Page 80 of The Fed Sex Man

Jo

Wearingnothing more than my panties and bra, I was on my back in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Tyson was lying beside me, in his boxer shorts. We weren’t engaged in sex, nor had we been. At any other time in my life, I would have viewed the chaste situation as a complete and utter failure.

On that night, however, I saw the celibate moments we shared as progress.

“You have no idea of how much that meant to my father to get the ice cream maker going again,” I said.

“I imagine it’s the same feeling I had when I got the Cobra running. When I drive it, I feel close to my father. Your dad will probably have the same feelings when he makes ice cream.”

I tilted my head to the side. “You’re probably right. His mom and dad made him ice cream with that rickety thing. They were pretty frugal. My father is, too. It’s probably at least part of the reason he hasn’t replaced it.”

I never had a chance to meet my grandparents, but I’d heard plenty of stories about them and their meager way of living life. They farmed the land they owned, making use of everything the land produced.

The farmland had three oil wells on it. My great-grandparents had farmed the land for their entire lives, never relying on the earnings from the oil as a means of income. They believed a hard day’s work was a necessary element of living a fruitful and rich life.

My grandparents believed the same thing.

My father had no knowledge of the amount of money produced by the oil wells. It was his belief that the farm provided the income required to keep his parent’s heads above water.

He’d no more than graduated high school when his father was hospitalized due to problems with his heart. Within weeks, my grandfather was paralyzed and blinded by the spikes in his blood pressure. A short period of time later, he died.

My father worked on the farm for over a decade, keeping the bills paid, the family fed, and the cupboards filled with canned vegetables that the farm produced.

Upon my grandmother’s passing, my father learned of the wealth the family earned from the oil wells. He never mentioned any resentments for having forfeited his career in football, or his college education. Instead, he claimed a feeling of pride for having done what needed done in a time of need.

“I think everyone from your parent’s generation is frugal.” He rolled onto his side. Our eyes met. He held my gaze. One corner of his mouth curled up slightly. “You went on and on about my father looking like me, but you didn’t bother telling me you and your mother look so much alike. She’s beautiful.”

I blushed at the remark. “Thank you.”

He kissed me.

I liked it when he kissed me.

It wasn’t like that was in the books. Actually, nothing was like what was in the books. The sex we had was earth-shattering. A chapter had yet to be written that could accurately describe the feelings I felt when Tyson was inside me.

Every time he kissed me lightly my mind went blank. My body tingled. My heart raced.

When the kisses were more aggressive, my legs shook. My pussy tingled. I became soaked.

The reality of Tyson was so much more pleasing than the fictional equivalent.

“I like it when you kiss me,” I said.

“I like kissing you,” he replied. “It’s weird. I’ve always hated kissing.”

I felt blessed. And curious. I was always curious. It was hard not to be. “What makes it different with me?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, whatever it is, I’m glad you’re feeling it.”

His eyes smiled. “Me, too.”

He remained motionless for quite some time. During that time of silence, his eyes scanned every visible inch of me, up and down, up and down. As I prepared to ask him what it was that he was looking for, he kissed me again.

While embraced in that kiss, he slipped his hands beneath the cups of my bra and began kneading my breasts to a rhythm I matched with my gyrating hips. In a moment, he was on top of me, grinding himself against my leg.

The kiss became more aggressive. Juices flowed. My face flushed. His erection grew against my thigh, making clear that he was as pleased with the kiss as I was.