by Brisa Starr
She begs me, “Please, Landon, I’m so horny.” She grunts and moans more.
“You like that, don’t you, baby?” I ask and massage her ass cheeks.
“Yes!” she cries. “Please, Landon!”
“Please what, baby?” I make her beg for it.
“Please fuck me,” she whimpers.
“Oh, you’re going to get fucked, my sweet girl. You can count on that.” She bucks under me, wanting more.
I probe her pussy lips with the shiny, swollen head of my engorged cock, slathering the head with her wetness.
Then I smack her ass one more time, just as I plunge the full length of my raging hard cock all the way into her.
“Ohhhhh!” she cries out in satisfaction.
“Fuck, Emma. You feel so fucking good,” I growl deeply.
Grabbing her hips and banging my cock into her, I groan, “I’m going to fuck you harder. Are you ready?”
I feel like howling under the moon, and something primeval takes over me.
I literally can’t do it softly right now, I have to take her rough, and she loves it. My sweet Emma loves getting fucked harder and harder. Faster and faster. My mind goes blank… I’m a 100% physical being now, no mind, just a wild animal. I want to lose myself inside my mate’s warm, soft womb. Forever. Under the stars on the golf course, in the desert.
My arousal is so high, so intense, I almost can’t take it. The feeling of her, fucking her, the risk of being caught — it drives me right up to the edge.
My muscles are burning, my abs scream like they’ve done a thousand crunches, but they’re not in charge — my cock is — and I dig deep and somehow find the strength to start slamming into her even harder. I own this woman, and she is mine to fuck as hard as I want.
“You’re mine, Emma. Do you know that? You’re. Mine. Now. And. Forever.”
“Yes, YES!!” she cries out as I reach under her and rub her clit, circling it wildly with my finger.
“Shhh... be quiet, Emma, or we’ll get caught,” and I smack her ass again, knowing that it’s hard for her to be quiet when she’s so aroused. I fuck her harder, faster.
“I’m going to come, please don’t stop,” she begs. “Please! I need to come!” My cock is about to burst my semen deep into her.
I smack her ass one last time and dig my fingers into her fleshy hips like a death-grip. She starts to come, her pussy squeezing my cock, and I let myself go, too. I explode as I feel spasm after spasm run the length of my cock, each shooting its own jet of my seed inside her.
We collapse on the ground and just lay there a few moments, motionless and silent, except for the panting as we try to regain our breaths.
Finally, I grab the top of the condom to secure it, and I pull out of her. I take off the condom, tie a knot on the end of it and set it aside. She sits up on my shirt while I pull up my shorts and button them. She looks at me, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she smooths her dress over her legs, pretending to be all prim and proper when we both know she’s anything but.
“That was worth the wait indeed,” I say and wink at her.
I lean forward and kiss her softly on the lips. Then I kiss her cheek, and she leans into it, and I kiss her forehead. I stand up and reach out my hand to her. She takes it, standing up and picking my shirt up off the grass. She opens the shirt’s neck and puts it over my head. And before I put my arms through the sleeves to pull it down over my chest, she kisses my chest.
“I thought the wait would be worth it,” she replies with a coy smile.
We suddenly hear a loud hissing sound that seems to come from all directions.
“Sprinklers!” I shout. “Run!” Emma and I take off in random directions. “Not that way!” I try to warn her in the darkness, just as — too late — she gets blasted by a powerful jet of water shooting thirty feet across the golf course and drenching her thoroughly from head to foot.
“Aaaahh!” she screams, which turns into something between a shriek and laughter. I start to laugh, too, when a different jet of water hits me from behind, drenching me, and I let out a whoop myself, suddenly feeling ice-cold in the otherwise balmy night. We rejoin and hold hands, running out of the way before the rotating sprinklers can get us again on their next pass, and we don’t stop until we’re back at the golf cart path, still laughing hysterically. I’ve never felt so free and had so much fun with a woman.
As we walk to exit the golf course, Emma, still drenched, shivers and snuggles up next to me for warmth. I put my arm around her wet shoulders and hold her tight as we walk.
My time with Emma has been the best in my life, and I’m not letting her go. Ever. I just have to figure out how to make this work long distance or convince her to come to Wisconsin. But that’s a discussion for another day. For now, we run hand-in-hand off the golf course, laughing like a couple of teenagers.
13
Emma
I wake up, roll over lazily and stretch like a lynx under the sheets. I turn my head to the side and see that Landon is not here. But I smile, noticing he’s made an attempt to make his side of the bed in spite of me still sleeping in it. He can’t even wait for me to get out of bed before he tries to tidy up. I snort… he’s so cute. I move to grab my phone from the nightstand when I see there’s yet another plastic Easter egg. This time, it’s yellow. It’s sitting on top of my phone. I start to feel warm all over.
That man.
That sexy, smart, romantic man.
A little joy bubbles in my chest as I see how focused he is when he’s on a mission. That mission is: me. He wants to woo me into a long-distance relationship, and I won’t say that I’m not intrigued by his efforts. I’m finding myself more captivated by him every day. Heck, every hour.
I used to love when Granny would tell me stories about her and Grandpa. They were a romantic couple until his last day on earth. They even showered together every day, from the day they were married until the end. Granny made me smile with her stories of their romance, always trying to outdo each other. As a young girl, I secretly hoped I’d find a man who was just as romantic with me as my Grandpa was with Granny.
I open the egg. Today’s note says, Thank you for last night. I hope your ass isn’t too sore.
I blush immediately from head to toe, but I sneak a mischievous smile to myself when I remember last night’s adventure on the golf course. I’ve never been spanked and… holy crap, it was such a turn on. The way Landon commands my body leaves my brain no room to question, deny, or think about anything other than my hot desire for him. Just thinking about last night makes my belly pool with fluttering sensations.
I’d do well to stop though. I have things to do! I sit up in bed, swinging my legs off the edge and run my fingers through my tangled hair. My finger combing efforts failing miserably, I hunt for my brush.
I find it in the bathroom, and I finish the job. I braid my hair and make it into a bun. I quickly brush my teeth and wonder, where is he? I look to see if he’s somewhere in the house. I call his name, but there is no answer.
He probably went to play golf. That means I might have some time alone. I have an idea... it’s spa-time! I’ll put on my favorite mud mask while he’s gone. I skip to my bathroom and dig out my small glass Mason jar with my special homemade mud mask. It includes Granny’s three favorite clays for detoxing and smoothing the skin, plus I added lavender essential oil for aromatherapy.
I slather the thick dark green stuff onto my face and smear it around. I even startle myself when I look in the mirror. I’ve been using this recipe for years, and it still gives me a shock to see it on my face. It works like a charm though and makes me feel pampered and girly-girl whenever I use it.
While it dries, I decide to make coffee and clean up a little, knowing Landon will appreciate it. Look at me... wanting to tidy up for a man. It matters to me though, as I like the idea of pleasing him. I know this will make him smile. If it were up to me, I’d let the dishes pile in the sink for the whole day before washing t
hem. But not Landon. Ohhh no. He washes as he goes.
Before diving into cleaning, I walk over to the coffee station to fuel my efforts with caffeine. As I reach for my coffee cup, I remember with a pang of sadness that my treasured cup is gone. I drop my head down and close my eyes as sadness briefly washes over me.
But I know better. I lift my head up and open my eyes. I know Granny would not want me staying upset about a broken cup. She would tell me to soldier on with my head held high and not be attached to material things. And she’d be right. As usual.
“You’re right, Granny, it’s time for a new day, and no thinking about yesterday,” I say softly. That’s exactly what I’m going to do, and I reach for one of the Mitchell’s coffee cups.
I smile brightly, push my noise-canceling ear buds into my ears, and turn on some shimmy-shaking music to clean to, while I wait for the coffee to brew. Standing with my back to the room, looking out the window, I jam out to Demi Lovato’s Sexy Dirty Love, dancing, singing, and thinking about the sexy dirty lover I’m sharing a house with.
With the upbeat music in my ears, I grab my coffee and sip it, feeling the delicious warm elixir traveling down to my stomach. I go back to dancing, shaking my hips and shoulders with no rhythm at all. I’ve never been coordinated when dancing in public, so I certainly don’t care when nobody’s around. I throw my hands in the air and really get into it. Yeahhhh! Hmmmmmm Yeahhh!
Just as I turn to dance my way to the sink and wash my cup, I see Landon.
“Oh my god!” I yelp and jump back. “You scared the crap out of me!”
He does a double take before grinning wide. Is my dancing that bad? He’s standing in the kitchen with his back against the refrigerator door, arms crossed across his chest. My face gets warm, and I think about how my cheeks must be flaming red. Wait... he can’t see my cheeks! Because... Aw, fuck me! I’m. Wearing. A. Mud. Mask.
Oh my god. The horror. I stop, stunned and just stare.
“And you dance, too?” he asks, laughing and stepping toward me.
“Well, I don’t know if I would call it dancing,” I say, trying not to show my embarrassment. I pull out my ear buds. “But I can’t believe you’re seeing me with my mud mask on.”
I turn to walk away, more like run out of the kitchen, and he grabs my hand.
“I’m surprised I didn’t scare you with it, like The Creature from the Deep Lagoon.”
“The Black Lagoon,” he corrects.
“Whatever,” I laugh, my facial movement restricted by the mask. “I’d smile, but the mud has hardened and it’ll crack.”
Amused, he reaches up to touch it. “Nothing you do could ever scare me,” he says with that wolfish grin on his face. I swallow hard when he adds, “Besides, I’m a dermatologist. I’m no stranger to mud masks. Though I’m going to have to teach you some dance moves.”
“Happy to entertain,” I sneer jokingly and pull my hand from his strong grip. I head for the bedroom to wash off the mask before he can pull me back. “I’m going to get dressed. I’ll see you in a bit,” I call out.
“Take your time. I need a shower myself. Care to join me.”
“No thanks!” I yell and close my door, relieved to be out of his sight. My shoulders drop with relief that he’s no longer seeing me this way. I wash my face and put on some moisturizer. While it absorbs into my skin, I get dressed, opting for something a bit sexy. I slide on a cute pair of short and frayed red denim shorts. Then a white tank top, eyelet design, that bares my midriff and buttons top to bottom, where it ends, just above my belly button. There. That ought to drive him wild. Though if he rips it off me like he did my dress the first time we made love, I’ll be out two articles of clothing. Oh well, it’d be worth it.
Standing at the sink, I apply some makeup, when I notice that light switch I’m not supposed to touch is lit. It’s alerting me that someone is using the shower and essentially warning me not to turn it off, or I’ll turn off the hot water going to that shower. Hmmmm. A mischievous grin creeps onto my face. I hesitate a moment, then flip the switch.
I go into the kitchen, and I hear him yelling from across the house. Ha! I got him. Yes! I relish my moment of victory. He comes running into the kitchen, dripping wet with a towel barely around his waist. Damn, he looks hot as hell. His sculpted abs and thick chest beg me to scrape my nails down them, when I see he’s ready to yell at me.
I look at him sweetly and shrug, “April Fools.”
“That’s not an April Fool’s joke!” he says, trying to stay pissed. Then, his eyes take in my outfit, and I see his erection start to lift his towel.
I slowly drag my attention from his hard-on to his eyes, “That’s my excuse.”
I turn to walk away, and he smacks my ass, jolting desire through my pussy. He retorts, “Payback is hell, my sweet.”
I turn around to face him and see his wolfish grin again, when Landon’s phone on the counter buzzes. He picks it up and reads a message. “Sadie says to turn on the news.”
He grabs the remote to turn on the TV in the kitchen. He flips the channel to CNN. A small smile forms on my lips.
We watch news updates on the pandemic and learn that the government has massively increased testing. With tens of thousands of new cases discovered all over the country, they estimate the lockdown will last at least another few weeks, maybe more. Nobody knows for sure. Then we see disturbing video of people at stores, all wearing masks and gloves like we’re in some alternate reality, their grocery carts overflowing with rolls of toilet paper, of all things, plus cleaning supplies and bottled water.
“Shit,” Landon says as he rakes a hand through his damp hair. “We’d better get to the store ourselves and stock up on things.”
He leaves the room and comes back five minutes later wearing tan cargo shorts that hang sexily from his waist and a form-fitting, black T-shirt that shows off his big muscles. He’s holding a surgical mask and rubber gloves. “I’m headed out. Let’s set up a staging area in the garage for when I come back where we can wipe everything down with bleach.”
“Great. I’ll go with you,” I say.
“The fuck you will,” looking right at me with eyes that say, don’t even try it.
“And why not?” I put my hands on my hips and narrow my eyes at him.
“Because we’re not going to double our risk of exposure by both of us going.”
“Landon, I’m not someone you can just boss around. I’ll go with you and help.”
He clenches his jaw as he tries to rein in his frustration. “There will be no discussion about this.” Then, he adds, “Besides, I need all the space I can get on the golf cart for the supplies, and if you come with me, I won’t have enough room.”
He has a point.
I feel a tinge of fear and worry come over me for the first time since hearing about the virus. It had seemed so abstract before, like something other people had to deal with. But now, I realize this is really happening. It’s dangerous to be near other people, and if we’re not careful, we could get infected. Maybe even die.
“OK. Fine.” I relent, giving him a sideways glance before heading to the refrigerator to take stock of things we might need. After agreeing on a list of items — eggs, cream, butter, and more meat — he leaves.
The gravity of our situation starts to sink in. It was weird enough that we’ve been staying home so much, but I didn’t have big plans for Sun City West anyways, so it sort of didn’t make me think twice. But seeing the news, and people dressed in protective gear, plus the thought that this could go on another few weeks sobers me, and I haven’t even had any wine yet today. Might not be a bad idea actually.
An hour later, Landon returns from the store, and I go into the garage to help him disinfect the groceries. We set up a table for staging things and wiping everything down thoroughly before taking them into the house.
But I’m shocked. Shocked at the number of packages of toilet paper I see. “Why on earth did you buy so much toilet paper?” I sc
reech. “We don’t need that much. Did you leave any for anyone else?”
“To make sure we don’t run out,” he replies matter-of-factly.
“There’s only two of us, Landon. We’re not going to run out!”
He looks at me, his eyes dead serious, his voice even, “We need to make sure we’re well-stocked, Emma. I don’t want any problems. And I don’t want to keep making trips to the store. It’s not safe. It was a madhouse with people wearing masks and trying to keep their distance from everyone, but it was so crowded, it was impossible.”
“Landon,” I say and throw my hands in the air, “we don’t need this much toilet paper! We’ll never use it all! What if the stores run out and other people need it?”
“I expect everybody else is doing the same because it’s flying off the shelves anyway,” he says as he continues wiping everything down with bleach wipes, still wearing his rubber gloves and mask. “Go inside,” he orders. “I’ll finish this.”
“Fine. This is ridiculous,” I snap and shake my head. “I can’t believe you bought all this,” I head inside, my heart full of disappointment.
A few minutes later, he comes into the laundry room and throws away his gloves. He takes off his clothes, stuffing them into the washing machine. He’s wearing only his boxer briefs now as he thoroughly washes his hands and face with soap and hot water in the laundry room sink.
“Why aren’t you wearing your clothes?” I ask.
“The virus could be on them. I’m going to shower and then meditate. Going to the store sucked, and I’m feeling a bit... tense.” He casts a sidelong glance at me. Is he suggesting it’s my fault that he’s upset?
“Don’t look at me like that. What the hell did I do?”
“Nothing.” He walks by me without a second glance. “Turn the hot water back on, please.”
“Big baby!” I shout after him. Then I do as he asked.
After his shower and change of clothes, Landon goes outside. I watch him as he settles into his favorite chair for meditating. I’m disappointed in his reaction to this virus and how he’s hoarding the toilet paper. It’s times like this that I realize the differences between us. This is the kind of shit that drives me mad about him.