The Woodsman's Baby

Home > Other > The Woodsman's Baby > Page 52
The Woodsman's Baby Page 52

by Eddie Cleveland


  “No, I want to feel you when you cum. I’m on the pill,” my voice is breathy and I open my stance to accept him.

  Seth pushes the hem of my dress up so my bare pussy is exposed and he wraps his hand up in my hair, tugging it back tight as he plunges his thick cock inside me in a relentless thrust.

  “Ah!” It’s all I can say as my pussy makes way for his impressive girth. I can feel my walls hug him, squeezing down on his rigid member as he buries himself inside me.

  I place my palms on the wall and wiggle my ass back against him. I am rewarded with a stinging slap as he gives my hair another tug and plunges inside me further.

  I’ve never felt this full before. My head is under his control as he fucks me hard and fast from behind. I can feel every inch of his cock slide in and out of me. The ache in my clit builds again and I open my stance even wider, allowing him the deepest access possible to my center. I can’t help the moans that escape my lips as his balls slap against my pussy, driving me to the edge.

  “You’ve always been the one I wanted, the one I dreamed of, the one I wrote songs for. It’s always been you, Raine,” Seth manages to pant his words as he fucks me. Filling me fuller than I’ve ever experienced with every pounding thrust.

  “Oh. My. Ahh!” My eyes squeeze shut and my words turn into a guttural scream as my pussy clenches him, contracts against him, milks his cock while another orgasm overwhelms my body. My muscles all tighten and the white-hot bliss radiates through me, bringing me a level of pleasure I never knew was possible.

  “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Seth growls and fills me deep with his fat cock. I can feel the spurts of his cum erupt inside me, splashing against the walls of my pussy. His cock twitches inside me as he empties his seed.

  Seth pulls out and a little of our mixed juices slide down my inner thigh. I smear them into my skin, leaving a glistening sheen.

  I turn and face him and Seth kisses me sensually. Like he’s savoring me.

  He tugs his pants up and grabs my hand, leading me over to the couch. We both lie down; my face is pressed against his marked skin and I can hear his heart thumping inside.

  “That was amazing,” he rakes his fingers through my long locks.

  “I couldn’t agree more. It just sucks though,” I don’t want to be ungrateful or start pouting. I knew when I came here tonight that this could only ever be fleeting if it could be anything at all.

  “Why?” he meets my eyes and once again I’m transfixed by his soulful gaze.

  “I dunno,” I feel a bit shy, “I can’t imagine you’re in town for long. I guess I’m just saying I’m gonna miss you. I wish I would’ve given you a chance in high school now. It just seemed like our age gap was so huge then, you know? Like a few years was an impossible thing to bridge.” I trace over the art on his chest as I explain.

  “I know. That’s all in the past now anyway,” he pulls me closer. “But, um, well this is the last stop on our tour, so I was thinking about sticking around for a while. I’m not sure how long, but I am sure I’d like to take you out,” he trails his fingers down my back.

  “I’d love that,” I answer honestly. “I really would.”

  I lie in the heat of his arms and listen to his breathing grow deeper as he drifts off. It’s just incredible how life turns out sometimes. I snuggle into Seth and let myself drift into a hazy memory of him back when we were in high school. His sweet smile that has turned sultry over the years. His blue eyes that can lock me in place now. I never would have thought that he’d be the man who made my heart swell, and now I can’t imagine it any other way.

  THE END

  9

  Constructing Love

  Chapter 1 - Samantha

  Big Buck’s Steakhouse, I can’t help but shake my head as I tick my freshly manicured nails off the table top. Why would anyone want to go on a first date here?

  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some kind of snob. I’ve worked hard to climb the corporate ladder. You don’t become a senior marketing executive at one of the hottest advertising companies at the age of forty by slacking off. Sure, money isn’t a big worry now, I slide my hand over my pale pink, chiffon sundress, remembering when my budget was so tight that ramen noodles felt like a luxury.

  However, Big Buck’s Steakhouse is far from luxurious. It’s like if luxury developed a heroin addiction and lost every ounce of dignity and self-respect then, covered in scabs and track marks, began to work the streets. That would be comparable to how ‘luxurious’ this dive is. The only reason I agreed to meet my date here is because of how hot he is. I’m normally not a superficial person, but after spending the last year on endless first dates with other marketers, accountants and lawyers, I was more than ready to try something new. And Wyatt James is definitely different. First of all, he’s eight years younger than me and his body looks like it’s been carved from steel. Suiting since he works construction downtown.

  What woman doesn’t love a man who’s good with his hands?

  “Would you like another drink? Or are you ready to order now?” An exhausted looking waitress with silver-streaked hair and slumped shoulders startles me.

  I look down at my empty glass and then glance around the room. Where is he? Am I being stood up? My gaze settles on the aging men cozied up to the bar across the room and for a second, I wonder if one of those pot-bellied old timers is him. I mean, I used a picture from five years ago for my profile. I’m not proud to admit it, but it’s true. Who’s to say his picture isn’t some relic of his youth. Or maybe I’ve been catfished. Doubts begin to swirl around in my mind like a cyclone of anxiety.

  “Another drink for now, please,” I chirp at the waitress, my throat tight.

  This was probably a mistake. Maybe I should go ask for the bill instead. I begin to stand up when the door beside the line of ancient video game consoles opens up and, I swear, light almost shines around him angelically as he steps inside.

  Wyatt James.

  I lick my lips as I scan him from head to toe. He definitely didn’t use an old picture. If anything, with his skin-tight shirt clinging to his well-defined abs and his faded jeans cupping his round ass, he makes his stunning profile look like chopped liver. I didn’t think that was possible.

  I swallow hard and wonder if I should wave him down or something. Instead, I tuck a tendril of my auburn hair behind my ear that somehow escaped my sleek ponytail, and take a deep breath.

  Wyatt James spots me in less than a second and I’m relieved when a huge, sexy smile spreads over his full lips. Damn. I know people say men look better when they’re serious, but I love a warm smile that can just make you melt like that first taste of cotton candy on your tongue at the state fair.

  He quickly crosses the floor while the steakhouse and all of the sad people and its tacky décor fade from my sight. This man is so beautiful we could be meeting in hip waders in a swamp somewhere and he could make it feel like a tropical beach of glistening white sand.

  He walks up to me and shamelessly lets his eyes travel over my body before meeting my eyes with his icy blue ones. I clasp his extended hand and am surprised by how warm and large it is.

  “I’d recognize your beautiful smile anywhere,” he finally speaks, “I’m sorry I’m late, but I’m so glad you stuck around. I’m Wyatt James, your date. Mind if I sit down?”

  Chapter 2 - Wyatt James

  I sit down on the worn vinyl seat and feel my tension ease away. I love this place. I love the escape it provides. When I step in here, no one knows what my bank account looks like. No one cares either. There are only a few rules in an establishment like this one, hold your liquor, hold your tongue and hold the high score on the Big Buck Hunter game. Lucky for me, I’ve scored a hat trick.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I try to keep my eyes on hers, but I can’t help but let them explore her high cheekbones and her supple lips. I love when women don’t bury their natural beauty in caked on makeup and eyelash extensions. I can see from her pale pink, rose pe
tal lips that she’s not one of those girls who spends four hours getting ready for a date.

  In fact, she’s not a girl at all. From the fine lines that appear around her eyes as she smiles, it’s clear that she’s probably at the tail end of her thirties or early forties. Not that it detracts from her in anyway. I’m so sick of meeting up with girls in their twenties with no life experience or opinions. They’re still in the phase where they try on new personalities like they change clothes. I want a woman who knows who she is and knows what she wants. No games. No drama. And no sugar babies looking for a Daddy.

  “It’s ok,” she smiles up at me and I can feel my pulse in my neck. Wow, natural beauty doesn’t do her justice, she’s simply breathtaking.

  “No, it’s not. I don’t like to keep people waiting. My, um, my car broke down so I had to wait for an Uber,” I explain. I almost said ‘my driver was late.’ That would’ve blown this whole thing out of the water pretty quick. And the last thing I want to do is go on another mind-numbing date with a woman who’s only interested in my money. I know thirty-two isn’t exactly old, but I’m old enough to know that I don’t want a parade of pretty, empty gold-diggers in my life. I want to find the one. The one who can see past my fortune. The one who wants me because I make her laugh, because I make her cum, because I make her mine.

  “Don’t worry, I wasn’t here that long,” from the way she twists her pout to the side I can tell she’s telling a white lie. Trying to make me feel better about leaving her high and dry. It’s a nice gesture.

  “Well, I’m glad you didn’t walk out,” I answer honestly. “I’m sure you have better things to do than wait around, didn’t you say you work at a huge marketing firm?”

  “I do,” she nods.

  “What can I get ya?” Betsy, the regular waitress shuffles up and sighs.

  “Oh, I haven’t even looked at the menu yet,” Samantha, or Sam as she told me to call her when we texted, looks down at the plastic clad selections and furrows her eyebrows together.

  “You should get the Buckeye burger, it’s the best thing here,” I suggest and Sam crinkles her nose up.

  “Really?”

  “It really is,” Betsy answers in her flat, sad voice.

  “Um, ok, sure. I’ll take that with fries,” Sam sighs and hands the menu back to Betsy.

  “Make it two, please,” I grin but Betsy’s face doesn’t even try to twitch into a smile back.

  “Sure,” she plods away.

  “So you work in advertising. What firm are you with?” I try to continue our conversation.

  “Um, it’s just a bunch of names, you probably wouldn’t have heard of it. We’re more known for our ads. Remember that puppy-monkey-baby one?” Her eyes twinkle.

  “Really? That was you guys?” I’m genuinely impressed. That commercial was all anyone could talk about for a long time.

  “Yep, that was a brainchild of Schuster, Brixon, Dundonald and Thurstein,” she shrugs.

  “Wow, that is a long name.”

  “Yeah, not too sexy is it?”

  “Wait, isn’t your last name Brixon?” I scour my brain for the little information I could gather from Sam’s online profile.

  “It is,” she looks down at her hands.

  “Related?” I press her.

  “Yeah, it’s me. I’m one of the senior executives,” she tucks her hair behind her ear and looks at me from under her lashes.

  “Wow, that’s incredible!” I’m impressed. I can’t remember the last time I went out with someone who had a real career, let alone someone so driven and accomplished.

  “What about you? You said you were in construction, what do you do?” She moves back as Betsy unceremoniously plops our plates of food down on the table and fills my glass with water.

  “Thank you,” Sam calls out to her politely as Betsy rudely trudges off again.

  “I work for Lefevre Construction I operate the heavy machinery.” I partially lie. I mean, I do technically work for the company, but not on the job sites.

  “Oh, I know their work. They restored my condo! It used to be some nineteenth century factory and they did such a great job of converting it to lofts.” She plucks a fry from her plate and looks at it suspiciously before focussing back on me, “I wonder if you were part of that one?”

  “It sounds familiar. I’ve been at this a long time, so the projects all start to blur together,” I grab my beef burger with two hands and take a huge bite.

  Sam picks hers up and does the same and the cynical look on her face fades as her eyes grow wide. “Hey, this is actually good!” She takes another bite.

  “Told you, it’s the best thing they serve,” I smile.

  “What’s with this place anyway? Everything is ‘Big Buck Hunter,’ even that game over there,” she nods to the video console I’m all too familiar with.

  “Because Big Buck Hunter is only the best video game ever made. You’ve never played it?” I place my burger down and wipe the corners of my mouth with my napkin.

  “Can’t say I have,” she laughs.

  “No, no. We can’t have that! Come on, let’s go. We’ve gotta have a shoot off,” I stand up and hold out my hand to her.

  “No way,” she giggles, “sit down. I’m not going to play that.”

  “Oh come on, I’ll make it worth your while,” I wink.

  “How are you going to do that?” She raises a single eyebrow and tilts her head, exposing her long, sexy neck. I want to kiss a trail down that neck as I slide my cock inside her.

  Ok, that might be jumping the gun, just a bit. Damn, she’s smoking hot.

  “We’ll make a bet. If I win, you pay for dinner,” I wait for her to balk at the idea, but she doesn’t.

  “And if I win?”

  “Name your prize,” I answer, hoping she’ll say me… naked.

  “If I win, I’d like to get a tour of your heavy equipment sometime.” She counters.

  “Not sometime, we can do that tonight. I’ve got the keys so you’ve got a deal.” Sam finally grasps my hand and I lead her over to the run down game with the fake deer head hanging over it. “Oh, by the way,” I smile over at her, “you should probably get your plastic out now and hand it over to Betsy for the meal.”

  “Oh and why is that?” She grabs her orange mini shotgun confidently.

  “Because I’ve got the high score on this game,” I nod at the initials on the screen. “See? WJL.” I slide some quarters into the slot. “Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”

  Just like in the duck hunter game from the 80’s, a big buck appears on each of our screens and Sam brushes up against me, her breast rubbing against my arm as she hovers her mouth beside my ear, “I want you,” she whispers.

  “What?” My mind might not believe what’s happening, but my body is ready. My cock begins to harden, ready for every inch of this sexy woman.

  Sam lifts her arm without taking her eyes off me and shoots the buck on our screen dead. Stepping back she looks at me with a sly smile, “I want you… to show me your truck,” she laughs.

  I’m not even mad that she cheated. Not at all. “Betsy, can you box up the grub? We’re gonna head out,” I laugh and pull Sam into me. “You fight dirty, I like a woman who’s got a dirty side,” I murmur.

  Chapter 3 - Sam

  “You have the key for this?” I nod at the padlock and chain wrapped around the steel gate guarding the equipment. My shoulders droop as disappointment washes over me, I was really looking forward to watching Wyatt James work with his strong, large hands. There’s something about a man who knows his way around huge machines like these that makes me want to find out if he knows his way around a delicate body too.

  “Of course.” He smiles at me, finds the silver key on his ring, and opens the lock with a click.

  I follow him through the gate as he leads me by the hand through cranes, trucks and bulldozers that remind me of my little brother’s toy box from when we were kids.

  “Here we are,” he stops a
nd points to his rig, “Sam, I’d like you to meet Gertrude,” he flattens his palm against the door and smiles.

  “You named your steamroller?” I laugh.

  “First of all, it’s not a steamroller, it’s a compactor. And of course I named her. It’s bad luck not to!” He pats his hand on the metal side before opening the door for me. “Climb in, let’s take her for a ride,” he holds out his arm for support as I brace myself against him and climb in.

  “Ok,” I look around at the buttons and gears inside. “Phew,” I whistle between my teeth, “looks like this would get confusing pretty fast.” I point at the colorful knobs and nubs.

  “What can I say? I like turning things on,” the engine roars as he brings the machine to life. “And I love pushing all the right buttons,” he winks and I can’t help but giggle.

  As the compactor creeps forward the seat begins to jiggle wildly, smacking my ass as I bounce in place. Warmth spreads through me, racing to my blushing cheeks and down to my aching pussy. My giggles quickly turn to gasps and I open my legs just slightly and bite my lips when the intense vibrations hit my clit.

  “Mmmm,” the sound escapes me before I have a chance to clamp my hands over my mouth. “Whaddya think?” Wyatt James smirks at me, sliding his eyes over me shamelessly.

  “It’s, um, pretty cool,” I manage to get myself under an ounce of control and answer him, hopefully not showing him my O face before he ever gets the chance to take my clothes off.

  “Just cool? I guess I’m not doing enough then,” he revs the engine loudly and the pulsing need between my thighs grows.

  The sensation intensifies and it’s more amazing than any vibrator I’ve ever used. Even better than the bunny shaped one that has pink ears that flicker against my clit while the swirling, bead-filled dildo fills me. That one is my absolute favorite and these flurries against my clit make it look like it belongs in a scrap heap.

 

‹ Prev