His lower jaw juts out slightly, as though he is ready to consume me, and he reaches down to take his cock in his hand.
“Then look, sweetheart. Look at how I fill you up.”
He pushes forward slightly, the head of his cock just against my tight, soaked opening.
“You are...you are so big,” I wince, “but I want you to keep going.”
“You tell me if you want me to stop,” Cole says, teasing the opening of my pussy with his cock, the precum dripping out, mixing with my desire, “but I don’t think you’re going to want me to stop once I start. You are never going to want me to stop. But I’m going to have to stop at some point, okay? Because you will need to rest. I don’t want to wear you out the first time. And then, I will take care of you. I will hold you. I will keep you warm. I will give you anything you want.”
I nod intently and take a deep breath as he pushes forward, the full girth of his massive size stretching my pussy open, making my lips spread open for him, filling me up until his heavy cock is all the way inside.
“Yes,” I moan, the hint of tears beginning to prick at the corners of my eyes. “Yes, that feels so good.”
“You,” he groans, taking my lips with his, pressing his forehead against mine, making me become lost in his eyes, “you feel so good. You are perfect, my sweetness.”
And I feel perfect. This could not be a more perfect moment.
And as he pulls out and presses against me again, slowly, torturously, I become more accustomed to his size. With each thrust, he feels more and more good inside me, more and more fitting.
Like he was made for me. And I for him.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he smolders at me, guiding my head down onto the bed.
“I didn’t know you were the romantic type,” I say, smiling. “I didn’t know you liked that cheesy stuff.”
“Baby, just because I’m big doesn’t mean I’m not a romantic.”
He shifts inside me, making me tremendously aware of just how big he is. His face tilts down, taking in my body, my whole body, and not just my curves or the swell of my breasts or the shape of my hips - he looks at my eyes, and for the first time I feel like I am being seen.
Like all of me is being seen.
Not just part of me. Not just the part that can be used. Not just the part that someone else can project their wants and fears and desires onto.
All of me.
But...but my head spins as he thrusts into me, hard and smooth all at the same time. But...but I know he wants me just like I want him. And I feel like I am being consumed by him, taken, claimed, marked and ruined for any other man who will ever want me.
Because I am his. I feel like I won’t want any other man again.
Like I’ve never wanted any other man before.
And even though I feel like he is seeing all of me, it doesn’t take away from what he is doing to my body.
The exquisite pleasure coursing through my veins, penetrating me to my core.
It’s freaking transcendent.
“Why have I never met you before, Cole?” I whimper as he drags his cock along the insides of my walls, making my pussy heat and gush with want and need.
“It’s my fault. I was away for a long time. But that doesn’t matter now.”
He kisses my forehead, and his beard scratches my skin lightly, making me giggle. He kisses my neck, and my eyes fall closed. I feel his hand make its way down my body, caressing me, pressing his fingers into every single inch of my flesh, and as it snakes down between us, I feel his fingers meet my clit, engorged with pressure and about to spill over at any moment.
“That feels so good, Cole,” I moan, bucking my hips against him. “Please,” I beg. “I need to cum.”
He pulls my body along the bed with his as he pushes himself up, moving toward the edge of the bed. He is standing before me, his perfect yet rough muscles freaking rippling under his tattooed, sun-kissed skin, and his cock is deep inside me. His fingers come down again between us, and his fingers find my exposed clit, and he presses two fingers on each side of it, pinching the flesh and rolling it between the pads of his fingertips.
And I lose it when he pulls his cock out of me and teases my opening.
“Cum for me, Valoria. Milk my cock with your pussy, drain me.”
His words are a beastly growl.
“Oh, my god, Cole,”
My words are a desperate groan as I begin to feel my body ignite with a spark of electricity deep inside my belly, and then overflow with the radiant heat between me and him.
“Cum baby, cum for me. Cum. You are right there.”
And I don’t want to. I want to stay here forever - on the razor-thin line between sex and the afterglow I’ve heard so much about, which I’ve only experienced as a faint outline, a shadow of something real, when I’ve masterbated furiously thinking about the eventual experience I’d have of finally having sex. But my fantasies never approached something like this.
Nothing will ever live up to this.
“I don’t want to cum,” I cry out. “I don’t want this to end.”
“Sweetheart,” he groans sweetly, protectively in my ear as he bends down to pick me up in his arms, my legs wrapped tight around him and his cock still buried deep in my tight, stretched pussy, “this is never going to end. Ever.”
He spins me around, pressing my back against the wall, still holding me up so expertly and like I am a mere penny he picked up from the ground, flipped, and tossed into his pocket. Light and like it could be forgotten. Discarded - and he didn’t have to do this. He did not have to pick me up back there.
He didn’t have to save me.
His mouth curls over mine, our tongues frantically entwined as I feel myself whimper and shutter against his body. With one hand he has my ass scooped up, his fingers pressing against my flesh, his fingertips grinding into me, and the other is snaking down between us again, grinding against my clit as he pummels into me over and over.
“I’m...I’m going to…”
My words come faster, my breathing becomes more ragged.
“Val,” he says, the word licking against my ears, my body, my heart.
And as I bury my forehead inside the curve where his bulging, muscular shoulder sweeps against his neck, I feel my pussy spasm against the grinding of his cock, the thickness inside me growing as I cum, and I close my eyes tight and feel my mouth open in ecstacy.
My world spins again as he turns me around and places me gently back on the bed, and pushes himself into me.
“Fuck,” he groans, “you are so fucking tight. And I love the way your pussy is fucking swallowing me up.”
He slips his finger under my chin and lifts it slightly, kissing me on the lips as he pulls his cock of out me. I look down and instinctively grab his cock with both of my hands, my legs still wrapped loosely around his hips. My pussy clenches up, still wanting, still desperate for him to be inside as I cum, but I pump at him, and his forehead falls against mine and he looks down our bodies between us.
“I want to be in that pretty pussy the next time I cum, princess.”
He jerks and shutters, and his cock explodes, and it looks like the pent up years of being alone have finally be thrown off his shoulders.
I’ve never seen anyone cum before, and I am so deliriously happy that he is the first person I’ve seen. And he cums hard - his cock explodes with thick streams, spraying onto my belly and some on his, too.
It is sexy, and I feel like his dirty princess.
Dirty and good.
So good.
8
Cole
I breathe.
I can finally breathe.
“It’s a shame they left your backyard like that. If I’d known...if any of us had known. I don’t know if we would have been out there had we known.”
Valoria peers out the large floor-to-ceiling window in my living room, surveying the trash left behind by her playmates. I’m starting a fire. The heat up here is suf
ficient, which is unusual for the homes in these hills. But I like the red glow. I like the smell. I like the crackling of the fire, the embers and flames.
And I want to see her perfect body fall against mine as the cool blue moonlight mixes with shadows thrown against the wall in the warm light of the fire.
“Someone knows. They have to get permits for that stuff. Property lines are not secret. They just don’t care.”
I get up from where I’m crouched in front of the fire and cross the room to the wall of firewood I chopped from the dead, fallen trees on the acres of land surrounding my castle. I grab a few more pieces and bring them over to the fireplace, crouching again, tossing them carefully into the flame. It’s starting to warm up.
Valoria comes over and puts one knee on the floor next to me. Her other hand comes down soothingly on my back, and I exhale.
“Careful, Val,” I say, but we are too far from the fire for her to really hurt herself.
She puts her head on my shoulder, and her long blonde locks fall against my bare chest. My heart thumps hard inside my chest, like new blood is being circulated by it. New blood is circulating through my body.
“I’m not afraid,” she says, putting her palms out carefully, delicately, testing how close she can get them to the fire without them becoming too hot. She pulls them back a little and rubs them together.
“Oh,” she says as she rubs her palms together, “that is hot.”
“Here,” I say, guiding her by the hand to the brown pleather couch facing the big window. I go back to the fire and crouch again. “Almost done. See, you have to make sure the wood is dry before you try to kindle it. You don’t want the wood to crumble. You want a strong, hot fire.”
I turn my face to the left to take a look at my Valoria. She has her chin resting on her hand dreamily, leaning over the edge of the couch, trying to get closer to the flames.
“You need patience for it, don’t you?” she says, her eyes flashing up from the fire to meet my gaze.
“You like to know how things work.”
I return my attention briefly to the fire again, and when I’m satisfied we’ll be able to enjoy a slow burn, I go over to Valoria and get close to her, taking her into my lap as I sit down.
“I guess so,” she says, slipping her fingers through mine. “God, your house is beautiful. This view. You should do something about the...I don’t even know what you’d call them. The criminals who left all their crap on your property.”
She breathes in deeply and puts her head on my chest. I feel my heartbeat speed up; and I want her to feel my heart beating against her ear. I want her to hear my body reacting to her; I want her to see what she does to me. I want her to know that I have no control over myself when I’m with her.
“Sweetheart, you’re worrying too much. I have people who clean up for me. And I pay them very well.” I chuckle to myself and I feel my laugh penetrate her as she looks up at me, smirking, biting her bottom lip. “I think my staff actually looks forward to the extra work. It’s like a bonus for them. And it’s right after their Christmas bonus, too. So I say bring on the vandals.”
I kiss the top of her head and she closes her eyes sleepily, her hand coming down on my chest.
I’ve never been this close to a woman before. I mean really close. The kind of closeness that makes you feel their heartbeat. The kind of closeness where you melt into each other.
I feel myself getting hard when she looks up again, those sassy little red lips smirking. They’re perfect. My feel myself steeling against her body when I think about how compliantly she begged for me, so innocent but with a secret dirty side she was just aching to uncover.
Valoria, an innocent virgin, grinding her ass up against my hard cock, teasing me, turning me into a fucking hopeless savage.
She feels it. She senses it. It’s the fire inside my chest, animating my heart, making my cock hard and it’s not just that, though. It’s the undeniable connection we have. It’s the undeniable connection I can feel between us.
And I feel drunk on her when she leans up to me, putting her lips on mine, so fucking softly, and closes her eyes, and smirks against my lips, sliding herself into my lap, facing me with each of her legs thrown lazily on either side of my thick thighs. She’s just wearing an oversized t-shirt I pulled from one of my drawers, and nothing on underneath, and I just have on my red thermal sweats, and it is like it’s our fifth Christmas morning together.
That’s how I feel. I feel like I’ve already lived with her.
She presses herself against me, but she doesn’t move her body against mine. She just kisses me, and my hands go to her milky, shapely white thighs.
And she pulls away from me after a moment.
“This is nice,” she mewls, her pretty eyes lost in thought.
She throws her arms around my neck, and I melt.
“If you need anything at all,” I start, moving my hands along her back, under her shirt, burying my face in her neck, “anything, you just tell me.”
“Okay,” she says, popping up. “How about telling me why you’re all alone up here?”
My heart stings when she says the word. Alone. Because she is right. I was alone. For too long.
“I like the privacy,” I say, pushing a few strands of hair behind her ears. “I like the solitude. I run my business from here. It’s easy to work from home with what I do.”
“And what do you do, anyway?”
“It’s boring,” I start. “It’s a tech thing. A website that hospitals use.”
She perks up inquisitively, like she wants to know more but doesn’t know what questions to ask.
“That doesn’t sound boring at all,” she says. “What’s the website do?”
I clear my throat and stand up with her, taking her hand into mine. Her delicate, sweet fingers slip between mine.
“It’s really not that interesting,” I say again. “It aids hospitals in coordinating with each other. Not much more to it.”
“That does sound interesting,” she says, playfully swatting at my chest. “You sound like a freaking hero to me.”
“I’m not,” I say, guiding her from the couch and into the kitchen just behind the living room. I glance out the window again and take in the view. It really is something.
It’s pretty out there beyond these walls, beyond the glass.
“It’s not like I’m a total recluse,” I say, “I have a lot of folks calling me at all hours of the day and night. That’s the problem with running a business that operates in multiple time zones. You have to be on twenty four-seven.”
“Do you get much leisure time?” she asks. “Like, what do you do for fun?”
“Let’s see,” I say, pulling her toward me by her waist. “I know what I want to do for fun.”
She sighs as I lean down, showering her lips with tender, slow kisses.
I pull away from her and guide her into the kitchen. My main living area of my house is open-concept; I did that on purpose because I wanted to be able to see outside from any place in my home. I didn’t want a lot of wall erected. I didn’t want to obstruct my view of the damn sheer beauty of the wild land I live on.
“This is really nice,” she says, looking around the kitchen. “Beats my little microwave.”
“No hot pot?” I say.
“No,” she says, laughing, “those are a strictly verboten item in the dorms.”
“You asked what I like to do for fun. One of the things I like to do is cook. I don’t do it enough. But I love to do it. And you have to eat. So what would you like me to make?”
“Ohh,” she says, rubbing her hands together. “Why don’t you make me your favorite dish?”
“Hope you don’t mind that I’m vegetarian,” I say.
“You are?” she says, perking up. “I thought you big guys are all about your protein and stuff. Steaks. Chops. All that stuff.”
“Some are,” I say, taking a few necessary pots and pans from the metal rack over the center isla
nd. “One of my neighbors up here actually raises cattle. It’s hard to do in the mountains, but he makes it work. I have a drink with him once a week at the bar and he tells me about the trials and tribulations of being a small business owner. He picks my brain sometimes. And there are others up here, organic farmers who raise chickens and hens. Lots of people here work the land and live off of it. Sometimes that involves raising livestock.”
“Sorry, the part I’m stuck on is neighbor. I didn’t see any other houses around here, like, at all.”
“His house is about two miles away, sweetheart.”
She smiles, shaking her head.
“You must really enjoy the peace and quiet, then.”
She’s partly right - and that’s why I came here. Not for the quiet part, so much, but for the peace.
But it’s evaded me, it’s eluded me. Every time I get lulled into a false sense of contentment, I find myself slipping.
I find myself slipping away from me.
That sweet peace of mind I’ve been looking for, it’s always been just beyond my reach. It slips away every time I think I’ve been able to grab it. It slips through my fingers like sand.
I can’t even pick it up and try again. It disintegrates into nothing every time I think I’ve caught it. I have to start all over again every time.
But looking at Valoria, something is different. Something’s changed inside my body, inside my mind.
Inside me.
“So what are you making me, anyway?” she says, taking a seat at the small kitchen table, slipping her legs under her, leaning forward on her elbows.
My favorite meal is a carb bomb. It’s comforting, and hot, and easy to make but it tastes fucking great. I make it whenever I have the chance, whenever I have time to prepare something, when my staff is off and when I have time and don’t have to peel back the metal on a can of soup.
And it reminds me of...of her, because it was her favorite. She taught me how to make it.
It’s one of the ways I am able to keep her with me.
“Penne pasta,” I say, “with a quick homemade marinara sauce. With crushed red pepper flakes. It’s not too spicy, just a little something extra. Finished with a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil.”
Mountain Man's Valentine Page 5