by Gabi Moore
The next few summers, when I pushed to do small jobs for Angelo here and there, I knew it was his wife that was quietly encouraging him in the background. I had never threatened her. But the fact that she had instantly and silently begun to give me special treatment was enough to cement in my mind just how important the thing I had seen was. How dangerous. Everyone liked to think that I had climbed the ranks because I knew who to sleep with. The truth was I had her on my side, giving me whatever I needed to keep my mouth shut.
It was sad, really, that I never got to play the most exciting card this whole game had dealt me. But Melissa was right. In the end, Joey had gotten what he deserved.
Chapter 20 - Jack
While I could never put it on a resume, having been a hitman is probably the best training you can have for a lot of other jobs. People think you have to be some kind of idiot, or some morally compromised thug to do the work that I did. But the truth is that you just need to remain calm. That’s it. If I was ever successful at what I did, it was because I knew how to relax when everyone else was getting riled up. When it comes down to it, knowing how to look at adversity square in the face and act calmly and rationally is all you need to be a good hitman – or a good anything, really.
That goes for chicken farming, too. If any of my old partners had seen me in the early days, I would have been a laughing stock for sure. But chickens are not that different from people. They get scared, they get territorial. You can predict how they’ll behave. You can always spot a good one, can always tell when one is going to be a disruption to the rest of the flock. I was probably the world’s only hitmen who retired to become a chicken farmer in Spain. But, fuck it. Sometimes life doesn’t pan out the way you quite expect it will.
I wiped the sweat from my brow, trudged up the stone path and hauled a few buckets of feed I’d prepared the night before. I was getting the real hang of staggering my yearlings and layers, so that each cycle I was getting a pretty reliable egg yield. One bucket under each arm, I walked over to the main camp, stopping for a second to turn my face up and into the warm yellow sun. It had taken us a long time to turn this place into what it was now, but it was beautiful, if I did say so myself.
It was a lush thirty acres, with a mature olive grove, a view to the North of the Bay of Biscay and to the east a faint blue row of low, softly undulating mountains. And chickens. Sweet, fluffy beauties who laid small eggs with yolks almost as deeply golden as the sun. I carried on walking to the camp, unlocked the gate with my boot and marched in. I heard a faint trickling noise. I followed it to the barn and realized with irritation that the borehole tank was leaking again.
I quickly sprinkled down the feed, turned the buckets upside down on the hutches and went to have a closer look. A long, thin dribble of water snaked all the way from a one-inch slash at the top of the barrel, making a muddy brown puddle at the base.
“Shit…” I muttered, and took my shirt off to lean in for a better look. The tank was new, but had this weird weakness right at one of the seams that had given me trouble before. Nevermind. Calm and rational, like I said. My previous repair hadn’t held. I’d need to fix it again, and soon if I didn’t want the girls to be running around caked in mud for the next week.
I kicked off my boots, too, and pressed bare feet down into the icy cold, squelchy mud. I could now see the problem. Luckily, the tear in the fiberglass was high up enough that it wouldn’t drain out the entire tank. Feet muddy, I went to fetch some tools: a handheld sander, a glue gun and a coke bottle. Not exactly high tech, but I’d be able to get in for better repairs later. I took some shears to the coke bottle and cut a square of plastic to patch the leak. After sanding the edges lightly, I’d apply some glue and paste it on, then pray the water pressure wouldn’t be enough to blow it off again.
“I leave you alone for one second…”
I turned to see her in the barn doorway, wide smile on her pretty face.
“Fucking thing’s gone again. I just need to patch it for a second, just till I can get that guy in to have a proper look…”
“God I love it when you work without your shirt on,” she purred.
I smiled at her sideways. I never knew why she found me doing impromptu hack jobs so sexy, but I’d go with it.
“Yeah? You like my big sexy glue gun, do you?” I said, and brandished it at her. The water continued dribbling out in a long, thin stream overhead. She walked in, took a look at it, then smiled at me.
“Oh yes I do, and I love your big old …coke bottle?” she said with a crooked smile, and held up the mangled plastic bottle.
“Yeah well, I’m Macgyvering over here, you’re a woman, you wouldn’t understand,” I said, and tried to lay on the patch at just the right angle. She giggled and turned the sander over in her hands before setting it aside. She came over, lay her hands onto my flanks and stroked me teasingly.
“Can you Macgyver later?” she said.
My hands froze. I loved it when she wanted it this bad. When she was so horny she’d trek all over this farm just to find me for a quickie under the brambles. I loved how coy she was, too, as if it wasn’t blindingly obvious from the first second.
Before I had time to answer, she had spun me around and was planting a big, juicy kiss on me, standing up on her tip toes to reach. The mud below squelched as she flopped against me, her greedy little hands moving all over me. I could still feel the warm sun on the cotton of her dress. Could smell it in her hair, even though it was braided tight into two pigtails on either side. She was my Evie, the same woman I had fled my home with almost seven years ago, the same woman that had helped me build this barn. She never changed though. Her face was still as bright and lively as it always was, and her little body still felt lithe and vivacious in my arms.
I smiled at her enthusiasm. Her tongue still wrapped around mine, she gave me a gently but decisive push and I went staggering back and into the tank, making the water inside heave and slosh. She laughed as the flow of water out the hole temporarily increased.
“You’re not helping, by the way” I said drily, and she gave me a devilish grin as her hands worked quickly to unzip my overalls.
“You’re going to get your pretty dress dirty,” I said, although in all honesty it wasn’t really a protest. When she had that look on her face, fuck, she could do what she wanted with me, and I sure as hell didn’t care whether she ruined her clothes doing it.
She took one more look at the dribbling water, then at me, then winced and quickly ducked her head under the stream, laughing like a crazy person.
“Evie!”
She came out form the stream, drenched, smiling at me.
“Well? Now I’m already wet, so it doesn’t matter,” she said and pattered her feet up and down in the mud to make her point.
“You’re wet, you say?”
She bit her lower lip.
“So fucking wet…”
I grabbed her waist and yanked her in for a deep, delicious kiss. Her pigtails hung damp and limp on my bare chest and instantly sent goosebumps all across my skin. Her cool, tight little body against mine in that hot and dusty barn felt like pure ecstasy. A few chickens were rummaging near the entrance of the barn but besides them we were all alone. The day was hot, my cock was rock hard and my beautiful wife was asking for trouble. Life was good. I could literally think of no way it could be better. Sure, gallons of precious water were pouring away over our heads with each second, but when I caught sight of her brown little nipples under her wet sundress, that didn’t seem to matter quite so much.
She pulled me under the stream as well, and that silvery rope bent and spread over us, dousing us in cool water that had been pumped from deep under the earth beneath us. The stream hit the top of our heads and then slipped over our skin, wound its way over our lips, dribbled down over our chins and finally went spluttering over the rest of our bodies. It felt amazing. She smiled at me, drops in her eyelashes, the water streaming down over her and giving her a strange, glassy
look. The mud pooled at our feet but I didn’t care.
I reached down, pulled up the edge of her little white sundress and slid the clinging fabric over her head, revealing her naked, puckered body underneath. She let me do this, lifting her arms and then shaking her two pigtails behind her, sending little droplets spraying behind her. The rope of water was falling right on her chest down, hitting square between her breasts and splashing out. She seemed to love this. She surrendered her weight into my arms and let her body flop backwards, opening up to the pelting of the water. She looked like some stripper in a cheesy nineties porno.
It was fucking fantastic.
I tore off her little panties, which weren’t holding up well against the rush of water, and she in turn pulled me close so her small hands could finish their work at my zip. She reached her hand into my still-dry boxer shorts and cupped the bulge there, before guiding my cock out through the slit in my pants and immediately gliding her fist up and down my shaft. Like I said, sexual desperation was a good look on her.
As her hand worked feverishly over that veined rod, I glanced down with concern at the mud, now splashing higher and higher up our calves.
“You’re a dirty girl, Evie, and nobody would ever say otherwise…” I said admiringly, then looked down at the pale stripe of skin on her scalp, between her two braids. Almost immediately, she dropped to her knees with a splat, sending mud flying in all directions, and leaning into my crotch so the water drizzle was now raining down hard onto the curled nubs of her spine.
Watching the water fan out and rain down over the curves of her hips and ass was just about the most perfect thing I’d ever seen. She took me in her mouth, just the tip, and swirled a hot, busy tongue over it, her lips locking around the shaft while her other hand stroked my abdomen. I leaned all my weight back against the tank and let my eyes flutter closed. Evie never slobbered. She never took the whole thing in her mouth. But fuck, she never needed to.
After she had worked over my cock till it stood straight up and ready, she pulled back and let the stream of water land at the base. It was wonderful. I reached down, grabbed one of her pigtails in each hand and gently guided her up to her feet again for another kiss. She was filthy; covered in mud and with a face full of mischief.
She didn’t need to be given any direction. With each of her hands propped against my shoulders, she lifted her one knee high to wrap her leg around the back of me, and jumped up a little to bring her hips level with mine. I grabbed her ass and hoisted her the rest of the way, bringing both her muddied feet clear off the floor. She smiled with pleasure at how easily I could carry her. She always loved that; loved how I could always pick her up with ease.
Now I was leaning back against the water tank, Evie was leaning into me, one leg hiked high up around my waist, and the water kept raining down on us both, first against her and then against me, depending on how we moved underneath it. I looked down at her sweet little pussy lips spreading open and pressing against me. I trailed a tender hand down from her navel to the start of that soft strip of fuzz. Her C-section scar was so light you could barely make it out anymore, but I still knew it was there, and took a moment to trace a little cross line over it before continuing my way down.
With one of her arms linked over my neck, she took the other and split her folds open for me, showing me those glorious silky ruffles that I’d start a new religion for if I could. The water was pummeling down onto the flesh of her belly now, sending little sprays of water onto her clit as I took a thumb and rubbed gently on that swollen spot. Her head fell back again. I did the same with the underside of my cock, her body slick with its own kind of water, twitching beneath my dick in anticipation. I excitedly lifted my hips to grind against her and felt the tank wobble and lurch behind me, sending a fresh burst of water through the top.
She laughed hysterically at this.
“You should totally plug that hole up,” she said and lifted her head to me again, impish smile all over her flushed face.
“Oh I plan to,” I said and, still supporting her in my one hand, used the other to guide the red knot of my cock into her. I always loved that first moment. The first few seconds of penetration, that first thrust inside. It was like drinking a tall, ice cold glass of water after a hot day. Like that first bite of something juicy and delicious after you hadn’t eaten for ages.
“Fuck you’re sexy,” I said.
She pulled herself up again and held my shoulders to lower down a little onto me. The water splashed away, the mud squelched beneath, the chickens clucked and fussed a little outside. I’d regret not fixing this leak sooner. But then again, with my cock half way in her already, there was nothing in this entire universe that I wanted to do more now than to put the other half in, too.
“Shut up. You’re sexy,” she said and pulled a tongue at me.
I frowned and flicked my hips up, sending a few inches of cock straight up into her. Her naughty face quickly dissolved into submission. She couldn’t help but to take in everything, take in whatever I gave her, since her body was pinned against mine and gravity made sure that the only way to go was down.
“Oh fuck,” she whimpered. I smiled. Not so tough, now, huh.
“Is that you wanted? Is that what you came looking for, hm?” I cooed softly into her ear as she struggled to adjust her weight to accommodate me. She nodded, her eyes half closed. I loved the little wet curls glued to the side of her face. She was certainly the hottest wet rat I had ever seen.
“All day, Jack …I’ve wanted it all day long. I needed it,” she said, her body still twitching to open up and let all of me in. My thumb went to work again on her clit, and the wetter she became, the deeper in I pushed, till the tightly coiled fuzz of her pussy lips met the base of my cock and could go no further.
“Fuck,” she said again, this time making the word sound extra dirty.
I steadied the foot she had wrapped at the base of my spine, locked my lips to hers and held her waist close. She winced and yelped a little with each curl of my hips, but soon those little yelps turned into moans, then to screams. The water stream was lessening a little, but still came down in a solid band onto us, splashing like a glaze over her naked tits and dousing us again and again in cool, fresh water. It was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. But it was also hot as hell.
Everything outside was cool and slippery and wet with tank water. Everything inside was hot and squirming deliciously, my cock in her, her little body wide open to me as I fucked her with long, smooth strokes again and again… slapping the flat of my belly against hers and she lowered all her weight down onto that hard pole and grinded away, her pigtails flicking water as they flailed behind her. The water had nearly run itself out. But we hadn’t.
I was fucking her hard now, and we both collapsed onto one another, holding the other’s body for dear life as our hips banged again and again into each other. I could always fucking feel when she was close to coming. I always knew by the way her breath suddenly went a little chaotic, and her hands suddenly clawed desperately at anything in their way, and her mouth slackened and deep inside, the little cunt stopped stretching with each pump and instead started to constrict back, tightening all along my length and pushing me right to the edge.
She snapped to attention and stroked the veins in my neck, staring deep into my eyes.
“Do you have lots of cum for me?” she asked, using a girlish voice she only very seldom used with me.
“Fuck, Evie, so much…”
“Good,” she cooed slowly. “I want all of it. Every last drop. Put it in me as deep as you can.”
I bit down hard on my jaw and felt my balls tighten and spasm, bringing on a huge release that went bursting through me. I cried out, cursing under my breath as my orgasm pelted through me. “Fuck…”
“Yes,” she moaned.
I could feel how the cum I was shooting into her had triggered her own orgasm, and soon she was following me in swearing and gasping, our bodies jerking hard against o
ne another with each delicious shockwave of our orgasms. She hopped off my dick and landed inelegantly in the mud, a look of relieved surprise on her face. We both stared down at the almost instant gush of sticky white that came sliding down her leg, down to her knees. The dribble of water overhead petered out and then stopped.
We couldn’t help but roar with laughter.
“I love it when we get the timing down so perfectly!” she said and gave me a naughty wink.
“Come here, you,” I said and grabbed her for a hug.
My still throbbing cock pinned between us, and her wet pigtails snaking loosely over her shoulders, we stood chuckling to ourselves for a moment, trying to catch our breath. I pushed her back for a second and peered again down at her legs.
“Hm, mud and cum, not your best look,” I teased. She playfully slapped my shoulder and laughed.
“I want to clean off but I’m afraid we don’t have any water left,” she said and took a peek behind me at the poor beleaguered tank.
“Yes. You and I suck at DIY. You know, when they said we’d never make it out here, they were right. I mean, we can’t even go half a minute without getting distracted and fucking. Not only don’t we maintain our farm equipment, we literally just fuck on top of it,” she was laughing loudly again, holding her belly. She knew I was only playing. If she wanted to burn our whole farm down just because it got her off, well, I’d be there first with matches and some gasoline.
I kicked the mauled coke bottle and watched it rolled into the mud.
“Eh, I’ll just call the guys tomorrow to come and look at everything. My two-bit plan wasn’t going to work anyway.” I smiled at her and smoothed away the damp hair from her forehead, and she smiled back at me. Her white dress was barely recognizable, crumpled in the mud, and her panties were completely MIA, so we both ran naked and giggling back to the main house for a shower.