FieldofPlay

by Frances Stockton

  Deliberately, his fingers tightened, guiding her downward. As she descended, he kept his grip. Bracing her back against the pole, she was seated, facing him.

  “Put your legs over mine,” he said. “Get ready to ride.” When he turned that dial on the wall, he must have set a timer. The horse lifted up, slow and steady, then dropped back down just as slow.

  Grace draped first her left leg, then her right over his thighs. Feeling a little exposed, she knew she wouldn’t resist whatever he asked next. “Lift up with your thighs.” The carousel horse continued its upward, then downward motion.

  Dallas’ hands remained at her waist, lifting her up as the horse descended. He shifted a little and brought her back down as the horse rose, his cock sliding inside her soaking hot pussy just as the horse lifted back up. Creating a curious tandem between their grinding hips and the rise and fall of the carousel horse, Dallas fucked her like no one had ever tried.

  “Oh, Dallas, oh, feels amazing,” she crooned, confessing nothing more than the truth.

  Swept into the horse’s rise and fall and the feel of Dallas’ big cock penetrating her, Grace was propelled into a realm of pleasure so great she wanted to reach out and grab the brass ring like she’d seen on carnival carousels. She was heady and dizzy, a little giddy. Filled to overflowing with his enormously thick cock, she wanted more and more.

  Dallas knew. He began lifting her higher, thrusting harder, letting the horse’s freefall work magic on her senses. The rhythm combined with the joining of their bodies hit Grace where she needed the most, deep, deep inside her pussy, filling her. She felt every inch of him. On a downward plunge, she felt the elusive knot of tension inside her belly pull tighter. Unlike when she came with clitoris stimulation, this time she was certain her orgasm would be deeper, stronger.

  He shifted his hips, deliberately holding her still as her inner muscles started quivering. The horse lifted and fell. Dallas ground his pelvis into her, finding her clit, sliding up and down, in and out, ascending and descending.

  Like he knew what she needed to come, he hoisted her up, plunged her back down, again and again. Each time his thick cock stroked her walls, filling her to the hilt. Wanting to hold on to the experience of being fucked by Dallas McKay, Grace squeezed her thighs tight.

  With a powerful pelvic thrust, Dallas growled low in his throat and kissed her quick. “Come, Gracie, give it to me now.”

  Grace’s inner muscles drew so taut she feared something would snap. Dallas ground his hips once more. She came on a deep rush of indescribable pleasure that swept through her so completely every muscle and fiber of her being felt it.

  “I’m about to come,” he murmured, gripping her hips. His cock swelled impossibly bigger, pulsing inside her vaginal walls. Kissing her softly, he continued the gentle rocking of his hips in the same rhythm as the slow and easy rhythm of the horse.

  “Your pussy squeezes so damn tight when you come, you drain me.” Sweetly, he kissed her forehead. “Don’t ever think I’m going to let you go back to coming alone, baby.”

  His warm lips cascaded over her cheekbones and nose and then returned to her mouth. Kissing her deeply, he swept his arms around her and held on. Not once had she worried that she’d fall off the horse. Not once had she thought about touching herself to come. It was wonderful to know that Dallas McKay let her fly higher than she’d ever gone before because she hadn’t gone there alone.

  “I can’t believe I’ve had sex on a car and a carousel horse,” Grace murmured when he eased back. His hands came to her face. His thumbs etched her bottom lip.

  “Next time, we’ll try my bed. I want to lay you down and tongue that juicy pussy of yours until you come so many times, you soak my face.”

  “You can’t do something like that,” she said.

  “Are you daring me?”

  “Ah, no, I mean, won’t you hurt something? Sting your eyes, maybe?” She flushed because there’d once been a mishap with her previous lover where she’d come while he was tonguing her. He’d made such a fuss over the mess, she’d never asked him to go down on her again.

  “The taste of your cream is like ambrosia,” he promised. “Whatever assholes you’ve been with before need to be hogtied and horsewhipped for failing you, Gracie. I’m going to swallow you up.”

  Kissing her softly, he managed to hoist her up. His semi-hard cock slid out and she almost cried for the loss. Dallas helped her down from the horse. At some point it had stopped.

  “Would it be okay if I went to get my clothes?” she asked, stepping down from the platform. She didn’t know how long she’d stay, but she needed to find some order to calm her chaotic emotions.

  “I’ll get everything,” he said. “Why don’t you go on upstairs?”

  “Which bedroom is yours?”

  “First on the left, the master suite,” he answered. “Help yourself to a spare toothbrush, a shower, whatever you need to be comfortable. I’ll be up soon.”

  Grace walked away. She went to get the black t-shirt, but it was useless. “No clothes, Grace. Go on up, you won’t need anything for awhile.”

  Not even sure where her panties were right then, she returned to the great room where she’d seen the staircase. She climbed the stairs and found his master bedroom, along with a very big dog snoring inside the darkened room.

  Chapter Five

  Like the rest of the motion-activated lighting in the house, twin lamps came on as Grace entered the room. Though it’d been dark, the bulbs gave off a soft glow that didn’t make her flinch.

  She had to give Dallas props for his decorating taste. Instead of going for fashion and trendy, he’d opted for cozy and inviting with its yellow and white pine walls and fresh woodsy scent.

  Max reclined on a dog bed twice the size of anything she’d ever seen in a store. He raised his head when she’d entered, wagging his tail expectantly.

  Since he was a dog, she didn’t mind going over to him naked. He couldn’t complain or point out her faults. Giving him a gentle pet, he nudged her for more. “You are a cutie, but we won’t tell your daddy, okay? I think he wants people to think you’re a wolf in a dog suit.”

  There was a majestic way Max held his head. She knew big dogs like this could have health problems, but felt certain Dallas was the kind of man to watch out for what was his. He’d take care of his dog.

  Not sure what she should do next, Grace looked around. Dallas’ bedroom suite was enormous. Two huge leather lounge chairs, a leather sofa and a braided throw rug resided in a private nook with a fireplace and a stone hearth. His king-sized bed looked enormous with a cast-iron frame and an undraped canopy high above. It was made up with a multicolored quilt, a giant star at its center and smaller ones at the corners.

  Colorful hand-woven rugs were strewn around the yellow pine flooring. Here in his room, he’d crossed Southwestern décor with what she thought was Sioux and other Native American cultures.

  The fireplace drew her eye. There was a shadowbox hanging on the wall above the mantle. Grace went to it, discovering a headband with long cascading feathers was centered in the box. Around the headband were arrowheads and pottery chips and small bear figurines.

  Along the top of the mantle were photos. Recognizing Dallas in a framed portrait of his family, she hoped she wasn’t intruding when she reached for it. He stood in the center, his height much greater than the handsome Hispanic young man to his left. Grace guessed the younger man was in his mid-twenties. A Hispanic young woman, looking similar in age and looks as her brother, stood to Dallas’ right. Her hand was lovingly draped over his biceps. An Asian man who looked only a year or two younger than Dallas was crouched low with a Native American girl perched on his knee.

  Between them all, a loving older couple sat side-by-side, holding hands. Quinn McKay had a deep Texas suntan, kind blue eyes and sleek silver hair. A black cowboy hat sat on his head. Mary McKay was a small redhead with brown eyes. She’d not gone gray yet, but laugh lines had formed at the cor
ners of her mouth and crow’s feet were around her eyes. They looked to be in their sixties and seemed very proud of their children.

  Grace hadn’t expected such a unique blended family, but she wasn’t surprised. As someone who appreciated her family very much, it was touching to see the parents who reared Dallas into the man he’d become. In this photo, and the assorted array of individual poses with his brothers and sisters, Dallas wasn’t the famed wide receiver for the Griffins. He was a man, a brother and a son.

  Carefully, she replaced the picture and stepped back. If she’d been able to think of him as a football player and her client, she might have protected her heart after tonight. But his confession about his birth parents, his amazing skill as a lover and his genuine fondness for his family sealed the deal.

  In less than one night, Grace Daniels fell in love.

  “Max, I’ve been blindsided,” she muttered to the dog.

  Max slapped his tail on his bed. Going over to give him another scratch behind the ears, she sighed at how soft he was. Trying to steady her nerves, she retreated to the bathroom.

  The first thing she saw when she turned the lights on was a porcelain claw-footed tub. She almost caved and took a bath. Maybe she’d get the chance on their next date.

  Since she did feel a little sticky from the ice cream and smelled strongly of sex, she opted for a shower. Fortunately, Dallas’ bathroom was loaded with every modern convenience, along with a warmed tiled floor, scattered bath mats and a huge shower.

  The shower stall was so gigantic the Griffins’ entire offensive line could fit in there. Holy smokes, a shower filled with men like Dallas and even coach Kyran Black? Some of those guys were human mountains of muscle. The tight ends had, well, very tight ends! The two running backs that played in tonight’s game weren’t as tall as the receivers, but they were quick, agile and strong. That was so not fair to a woman’s reawakened sexuality. And really, the shower might only fit three of the guys plus a woman.

  Making quick use of the toilet to change her thoughts, she cleaned herself with a tissue and went to turn on the shower. The problem was there seemed to be fourteen knobs and showerheads. Actually, there were six, but the complexity of the setup took some getting used to. Her first attempt to turn on the water caused a blast of freezing water to spray her in the face.

  She yelped, shaking her head before adjusting the sprayer and the temperature. This time the water was too hot. “Yikes!” she cried out.

  She jumped out of the way and tried to turn the whole thing off. Suddenly the bathroom door opened and Dallas charged in. “What the hell, Gracie?”

  “So…sorry,” she stammered. “Water was freezing, then too hot.”

  Totally naked, he swung the clear shower door open and stepped right in as if he owned the place. He did, of course, but Grace instantly tried to cover herself when he adjusted the knobs, turning off the water.

  “After what we’ve done already, you’re hiding?” he demanded, catching her wrists and lowering her arms. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine, I’m fine,” she said, trembling. The drastic temp changes made her shiver.

  “Come here, baby.” His arms went around her, feeling so warm and oh so familiar.

  “I just wanted to take a quick shower before, you know, the date’s over.”

  Dallas reached for one of the knobs on the far side of the shower wall. Warm water cascaded down from a foot-wide brass showerhead above their heads, soaking them both.

  “Nothing’s over,” he declared. “Okay?”

  “Uh-huh,” she sighed, loving the feel of his arms around her and clean water drenching her skin.

  Once they were both wet enough, Dallas picked up a brown bottle, squeezed out a generous glob of shampoo and returned the bottle to a shelf.

  “Turn around,” he said.

  Grace turned until she faced the wall. Strong fingers began to massage her wet scalp, working the shampoo into a mild lather. It smelled like Dallas, spicy male and sandalwood.

  “Shampoo feels and smells amazing,” she murmured, letting him massage. His fingers were deft and strong without pulling or snagging her hair.

  “My kid sister makes it,” Dallas told her. “She’s very crafty, makes soaps and shampoos and jewelry, predominately. She’s also makes Apache blankets and such.”

  “Your little sister is Apache?” she asked, recalling the sweet teenage girl from the photograph.

  “That she is,” he answered proudly. “At eighteen, she’s quite the entrepreneur with her own internet-based product line.”

  “Did she also make your necklace?”

  “Sure did,” he said. “She gave it to me for my thirtieth birthday.”

  His fingers continuously worked shampoo through her hair. When he was done, he shifted her so the water could rinse the thin lather. “The shampoos and soaps she makes are all natural and sulfate free. They work great even though don’t lather like the processed stuff you’d get at a store. Every month, she hooks me up with a supply.”

  He picked up a slightly smaller bottle, tipped out a nickel-sized amount, and smoothed it through Grace’s hair from scalp to end. More water came down upon her head, rinsing the conditioner away.

  “I can wash myself,” she insisted, meaning to grab the bar of soap on the shelf.

  Dallas got to the soap first. “I know. It’s a lot more fun this way.”

  “Yes, it is.” She couldn’t deny it. Being pampered by Dallas McKay was better than any shower fantasy she might have had, even one filled with football players.

  After soaping his palms, he dropped the bar back to its shelf. Dallas settled in behind her, his semi-hard cock lining up with the crack of her butt. Warm sudsy hands swiped over her face and throat, caressing down until he cupped her breasts. Still a little worried that he’d notice the thin traces of scarring from her reduction, she gasped and rose to her toes. Fortunately, she hadn’t gone for anything radical regarding the reduction and her surgeon had been very talented. Most of the time, she didn’t notice the scars unless she was looking with a very bright light.

  “Easy, baby, I’ll go real easy,” he promised, smoothing his thumbs over the taut flesh. He didn’t press or push or pinch, he cleansed and massaged gently. “Your nipples are so responsive. I wonder what it’d be like to use nipple rings on you.”

  “No one is piercing my nipples, McKay.”

  “No piercing, don’t worry,” he assured. “The rings would circle you here.” Both index fingers twirled around the base of her nipple. “They’d keep you erect and very sensitive. Add a chain, oh, baby, that’d be sexy as hell. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, enticed by the idea. She’d seen and heard about nipple jewelry. She’d just never thought she’d wear anything like that.

  “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he told her as his big hands smoothed from her breasts to her abdomen. His long fingers stroked through her pubic hair, washing her there before his middle finger speared through her slit.

  The soap was very mild and didn’t sting at all. In fact, the warmth of his tender stroking soothed her swollen clit. He seemed to know she needed to slow down before she became too sore to do anything but sleep it off.

  Dallas washed her quim with gentle swipes of his hand and then reached up for the handheld showerhead she’d intended to use when she’d gotten into the shower. Minimizing the force of the spray, he rinsed the soap from her body and her pussy until thin streams of suds slid down to her feet.

  “Now it’s my turn, Dallas,” she said, turning around.

  She needed to feel his warm vibrant skin beneath her fingertips. “You’re such a beautifully built man. You remind me of a Native American warrior from another era,” she admitted aloud, seeing the similarities of the movie character and Dallas’ handsome face.

  “I’m honored,” he said. “But, Gracie, don’t talk about another man when we’re naked or fucking.”

  “I didn’t mean to of
fend you,” she assured.

  “Just a warning, baby, I won’t share my woman, even with a man from the past.”

  Testing him a little, Grace backed up. “So there’s no chance at a three-way fantasy, huh? That’s good. If you’d ever suggested sharing me, you’d be singing soprano for a month.”

  Dallas winced. “Ouch, I can give you the fantasy, but there’s no way I’d let another guy fuck you.”

  Extremely curious to learn how Dallas could give her a three-way fantasy without another man, Grace blushed at the possibilities. Wanting to show him that she trusted him, she went to get the shampoo.

  “I washed my hair after the game,” he said.

  She reached for the soap instead. He’d been right about the lather. The glycerin-based bar was predominately scented with sandalwood, herb leaves and what looked like cloves. It didn’t make an intense lather, but combined with water from the shower, she was able to fill her palms with a sudsy sheen. Quickly, she replaced the bar of soap and faced Dallas.

  He rested against the back shower wall, watching her. Sidling up close to him, she ran her palms over his face, throat and muscled chest. She soaped his nipples, spending precious time scraping her nails over the dark rosy-brown nubs and quarter-sized areolas. His nipples grew more pointed, so she scratched and gave a little pinch.

  A minute ago, he’d been semi-hard. Grace didn’t know how long it’d been since they’d had sex on the carousel horse, but Dallas’ cock stuck out from his nest of pubic hair almost at full mast. The foreskin has rolled back some, giving her a lovely glimpse of his velvet-smooth glans.

  Aware that the Alpha in him was very strong, she was turned-on by the idea of pleasuring him. She trailed her hand over his pecs to his rippled abs and finally to his impressive erection, cleaning him. He’d dropped the handheld shower and it continued to drip. She grabbed it with her free hand to rinse the soap.

  “You’ve done so much for me tonight. Now I want to give back,” she confessed. Turning the showerhead off, she dropped it back down and reached out to touch his cock.