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“Will wash out, roll over.”
She does, and I once again put oil in my palm and rub my hands together. I go to work on her thighs again, watching her as her eyes close in pleasure. I’d love to say I am a gentleman, that I keep to my task of a simple massage, but, well, with her, there is no staying on task. Her moans are making it very hard to concentrate on what I’m doing. So much so that I pull her thighs apart, my fingers caressing them as I lower my head.
My mouth takes her in, my tongue lapping at her slick folds.
“Yes…” Her hips rock against my mouth as I take control of her thighs, holding her open so I can devour her fully. My tongue flicks, circling her clit, then dives into her core, caressing, tasting. Humming, I move faster. “Fuck…”
The biggest turn on for a man is knowing that his girl is wild for him and what he is doing to her body. I watch her, my tongue flicking her clit hard and fast. Her hands go to her breasts, her fingers pinching her nipples hard.
“Dean…”
She’s panting, her body rocking as she starts to tighten. Her body tells me her orgasm is close. I shift, my fingers sliding into her with ease; I add a third, her hips bucking as my fingers curl against her inner walls. My pace does not change. They stroke her hard and fast until she explodes, coming with a scream.
“I need you…” she gasps out. “Inside me, now, please.” With her words, she puts herself in a position I love: hands above her head, gripping the covers, her legs open for me. I pull my boxers off and crawl up her body, capturing her mouth in a heated kiss. Her hum of excitement rolls through me, and my dick jerks. I need her so much, but I need to savor her exquisite body.
“I love you, so much.” I kiss down her neck, nibbling the soft skin.
“I love…you too…” She is squirming now. She knows what I want, need from her. “Take me, Dean. Fuck me hard. I need you.”
Sliding along her body, I move to line up the tip to her entrance. I slide in slowly, closing my eyes as she tightens around me. When I am fully seated in her heat, I lean my head down and take her nipples in my mouth, teasing one at a time until she is begging again. My hips slowly move, pressing myself into her fully before I pull out to slam back in. The slow, methodical thrusts teasing us both until I need more. I sit back, pulling her up on my legs enough that when I thrust, I am hitting against her walls. Sending her higher and higher toward orgasm.
“You feel so good,” I grunt out as I pound into her.
“Dean! Yes!”
When she comes around me, squeezing so tight, I shatter, my seed filling her. My hips are pumping, prolonging our pleasure until I collapse. I roll to my side, taking her with me. We lay there, breathing heavily.
A few moments pass, and our breathing returns to normal. “I need another shower…” she giggles.
My lips tug up into a smile. “A shower, you say?”
“Yeah…but not yet. I’m afraid I can’t move. My muscles are all dead.”
Chuckling, I place a kiss on her temple. “We can shower in the morning.” I shift away from her, moving to get a washcloth to clean her up. Once she’s settled, I take care of myself, then join her back in the bed. I push the blankets off to the floor and pull a fresh one from the linen closet. Once back on the bed, I pull her into my arms and kiss her softly.
“How about we take a little nap, then I’ll get up and cook us some dinner?”
“Can we have breakfast for dinner?”
“Absolutely.”
Our bodies are so relaxed, we crash without a second thought.
Watching Ness with the animals that are slowly growing in number, I can’t help but be happy that she is living out her childhood dream of having her own little farm.
Don’t worry, I am extremely happy with all of this as well. I’ve said it time and time again: I will always do what makes her happy. It makes me happy, and I feel fulfilled if she is happy.
The alternative is a place I never want to visit. It would kill me to know she isn’t happy or in a good place mentally. I mean that literally because her father has said as much. His ‘if you hurt her, they’ll never find your body’ speech was one I took to heart.
If there’s one thing I know, no one fucks around without finding out. I like myself alive, thank you very much.
The farrier is here checking hooves and making shoes for the horses. I watch as he works. The ten-year-old Paint gelding, Picasso, has great patches of white and a brown. He reminds me of the horses you see in the old Westerns. The ones that the Native people would ride bareback. Majestic is a good word to describe him.
He’s standing, one leg extended slightly, his hoof on a round top as the farrier files his hoof. He stands still, being a very good boy. He doesn’t seem to mind the older man working on him.
Picasso is a smaller horse, standing at fifteen-one-hands. I’ll be honest, I don’t really understand any of that, but it’s what the measuring thing they used to determine his height said he was. He’s a gentle horse, mild-mannered and very chill.
Now, the big horse is a female Bay. Again, I’m not sure what Bay means, even after Ness explained it to me, but she’s pretty. Her body is a light sand color. Her legs, mane, and tail are jet black. The color contrast is eye-catching to say the least, but that isn’t the first thing you’ll notice. Or maybe not the only thing. She’s huge, especially standing next to Picasso. Seventeen-three-hands and as with Picasso, she’s majestic AF, as the kids today say.
