Chapter 38

Chapter 38

While Richie was in the shower, the two women sat down on the sofa and talked.
Mrs. Sambora wanted to know all about the girl who captured her son's heart. Richie
rarely brought ladies to meet his mom. Since Heather, she had only met Denise and she didn't
think very highly of her.

"Denise wasn't there for my son. She was there only for herself and my Richie deserves better." she said to Harley.

Feeling it best to keep her thoughts on that subject to herself, Harley nodded with a smile. Harley told her she lived in Nashville andhad a strong passion for horses.

"What do you do for a living, dear?" Mrs. Sambora asked.

"I'm a musician." she answered.

 "Like my Richie?" she asked. Harley smiled,

 "No, not quite like him. I don't play an instrument, but I'm a country singer and songwriter." she said.

"Are you famous?" she asked Harley.

 "Yes, she is very famous, Mom." Richie was walking into the room.

"Oh, well, I don't really listen to country music. How about children? Do you have any?" she asked her. Richie cut Harley off before she could answer.

"Ma! Enough already!"he said.

"No, it's ok, Richie." Harley said, looking back at Mrs. Sambora.

 "Unfortunately, I don't." Harley answered.

 "You say your 43, right? Have you ever married?" she asked. Richie was embarrassed at this point.

"Mom, really?" he asked, feeling Harley wouldn't want to get into the "Tim" story.

Harley reached for Richie's hand, as he sat on the coffee table across from them.

"Yes, I was married before. We were married for nearly 15 years. He passed away from lung
cancer 3 years ago. As for children, I've never been able to. We tried but nothing." Harley
explained to Mrs. Sambora.

"I'm so sorry. I feel I've pryed." she said with empathy in her eyes.

"No, not at all. Feel free to ask me anything, at anytime." Harley said, reassuring her.

"I don't know if Richie told you but I lost my husband to lung cancer. So we have a common bond,
honey." Mrs. Sambora said, grabbing Harley's free hand. Harley flashed her a smile. Richie
spoke up,

"She knows, Ma." he said.

Mrs. Sambora looked at her son thoughtfully,

"She's a good woman, Richie. She's been through hell. Be tender and loving to her." she instructed.

Harley's mind went to the activities that Mrs. S. interrupted, thinking of how he had fucked
her earlier, 'tender as a jackhammer'. Causing her cheeks to flush, with a giggle. Richie
was on the same thought. Harley's giggle made him want to lay her back down. Her giggles
drove him wild. Then he had an idea,

"Ma, how bout that nap? You must be tired?" he reminded her. Mrs. Sambora nodded,

"I could probably sleep till supper." she said.

"I'll take you to your room, Ma." he said.

"Have a good rest. It was lovely meeting you, Mrs.Sambora." Harley said, causing Richie to look at her with complete adoration. As his mom made her way out of the living room towards the first floor guest bedroom, Richie leaned in, pulling Harley close to him with his arm around her waist, whispering quickly in her ear,

"Go upstairs, now!" he ordered her, as he released her.

As quickly as he did that, her breathing quickened and a familiar ache began between her legs. Waiting until they were out of sight, she did as he requested.Sitting on the edge of the bed when he walked in,

"She settled?" Harley asked

He didn't answer. She stood when she saw the smoldering look in his eyes. Meeting him halfway
between the door and bed. Standing a foot apart, looking in each other's eyes. Richie brought
his index finger over his lips,

 "Quietly!" he said in a low and husky whisper. Instructing as he lingered in her eyes,

"Take em off."Harley was on fire with excitement, feeling her own wetness. Quickly, she undid her pants and slid them off.

"Panties too." he demanded.

Harley swallowed hard. Her fingers clasped her panties and pulled them down till they fell to the floor. Still holding his stare, Richie unbuttoned his jeans with one hand, pausing for a second before the zipper went down. Harley shuttered, as she felt if the wind blew too hard, she'd cum. Richie turned her around, pulling her up against him. His hands on her hips, he trailed small, light circles, as he reached her clit, rubbing softly. Harley moaned softly,

"Shhhhh, absolutely no noise. Or I will stop." he whispered in her ear."Control your breathing.", he ordered. Harley had no clue how to do this but she had to.

Richie began gliding his finger on her clit harder, causing a sharp intake of air.

Harley felt two could play this. Licking her fingers, she reached behind her, releasing his rock hard cock and pumped it with a firm grip. Causing Richie to suck in a breathe, through clenched teeth,
Harley let go, turned around and whispered in his ear,

"Control your breathing or I'll stop!"

Richie had enough play time. In one swoop, his arms went around her waist, lifting her up,

"Wrap your legs around me." he whispered.

Harley did as he asked, as he put her up against the wall. She was eye to eye with him, holding her in place with his chest pressed against her. Guiding himself as he thrust inside her with fierce force. Harley's mouth flew open with a gasp. At the same time, Richie's mouth covered hers. He was fucking her hard. Breaking free of the kiss, Harley wrapped her arms tight around his shoulder's, biting near his neck to keep from screaming in ecstasy. Feeling it build inside her with every thrust of his hardness inside her.

"Oh God! Fuck me!" she whispered.

Thinking to herself, 'fuck, I spoke! He told me not to speak or he'll stop!'. Richie didn't stop. He was over the edge himself. Lowering her slightly, she thought he was going to hold true to his promise and stop.

 "No, please don't stop!" she cried. His lips crashed down over hers. Harley soon realized, he lowered her, to allow him to fuck her deeper.

Two mind blowing thrusts sent her into a hard orgasm. Controlling herself was more than she could do. Richie brought his hand up to cover her mouth. With another deep pump inside her, his body jerked hard and froze. His face twisted in what looked like agony but was pure pleasure. He did well at maintaining his breathing and noise. It was his face that told the story.  Letting go of her mouth, he walked them over the the bed and lay down with her, covering them with a throw blanket, from the foot of the bed. Holding her close to him,

"I'm sorry, Ms. Stewart. I may not have been very tender with you." he said with a grin.

"Tender as a jackhammer, Mr. Sambora! I love your idea of tenderness." she said, smiling. She kissed him softly and drifted into a post orgasmic coma.