"Say you'll be ready at ten. Bring that overpriced duffel bag you call a purse—and be sure to stuff sunscreen and bug spray in it. I'll bring the Frisbee."
Eric surprised her with the announcement. Well, first he surprised her with the surprise. The care involved in planning such an outing told Andi more about his feelings for her than words could ever hope to convey. Romance, in the world of Eric Olson, consisted of beaming obnoxious batters who insulted his squeeze and refraining from the intentional expulsion of bodily gases in her presence. The former came naturally. The latter required effort—just as the picnic planning required effort—and that effort caused Andi more alarm than the affection caused comfort.
Other than their little Chinese ménage dinner party, they'd never spent any time together that didn't involve some type of sexual activity. Foreplay typically took place in a bar or a restaurant before they adjourned to his hotel room for the main event—stopping in a back alley or linen closet if impatience got the better of them, which it often did.
"What's the occasion?" she asked when he showed up at ten o'clock on the dot holding a ragged bouquet of wildflowers that looked as if he'd plucked them from the side of the road on impulse. Andi detoured into the kitchen to put the flowers in water, selecting an empty beer bottle from the recycling in lieu of a standard vase. It seemed appropriate, and Eric found it amusing.
"I was out on my bike early—just exploring the 'burbs—and they reminded me of you. Sorry they're so wind-tossed. Not much I could do to prevent that. You 'bout ready to go?"
"Almost. I just want to put on shorts instead of this skirt. I don't recall you ever mentioning that you had a motorcycle. I…like the idea. It suits you." If the moisture level in her panties served as an accurate indicator, Andi more than liked the idea. She loved it.
Eric followed her into her bedroom and watched her change. As she wriggled into her favorite denim shorts, she asked, "Is that why you chose to rent that old farmhouse instead of getting an apartment closer to the ball park?"
"One of the reasons. I'm just not a big city kind of guy. I need space—and fresh air—and country quiet. I get all the togetherness and socialization that my temper can stand from my teammates."
"And then there's the hay loft…" Andi grabbed her bag and threw it over her shoulder. "Okay, I'm ready. Where are we going?" "Lincoln Park." "To the zoo? You're serious, aren't you?" "Just thought you could use a change of pace, doll. I know these trades threw you for a loop, and I wanted to make sure you know how much I appreciate your willingness to compromise. It…" Eric looked at the floor, tripping over his words, and Andi half expected him to scuff his toe on the carpet. "It means a lot to me, y'know."
She chewed on that as they made their way down the elevator to the parking garage. Just a few short weeks ago, such consideration for her feelings would've tripped all her alarms and sent her scurrying in the opposite direction. Now, however, she almost welcomed it.
Andi piled her hair atop her head, and Eric slid his spare helmet over it. Andi balked at it at first, the idea of the wind rushing through her hair playing in her mind, but Eric grew almost petulant in his insistence about it. She agreed rather than delay their afternoon any longer. He then provided a brief orientation on riding pillion with instructions to lean into the curves with him rather than following the reflexive urge to counter balance, and they set off at a modest pace.
Too modest. Andi wanted to kick him—spur him like the stallion she kept stabled at Tower Hill. The sensation provided by the motorized beast between her legs differed from that of a horse, but the desire to feel the air rushing past her was the same. City traffic limited the opportunity, though, as they wove their way north along scenic Lake Shore Drive.
Andi tugged on Eric's shirt until she could worm her hands inside and touch his skin. She pulled her body tightly against his, savoring the crush of her breasts against his back and enjoying the movement of the muscles in his torso as he deftly maneuvered the bike. His thin, black Tshirt hugged broad shoulders, and she felt the low rumble of his voice through her chest when they pulled to a stop at a traffic light and he spoke.
"You feel so damned good, woman. It's gonna be tough being out with you in a PG-rated place—with kids around and all. Not like a bar where I can indulge myself and finger you under the table."
In response, she drug her nails across his taut stomach. His rumble deepened into a growl that went straight from her nipples to her pussy. The combination of Eric's proximity and the bike purring between her thighs already had her motor in high gear. The park would undoubtedly be a delicious torture.
Eric wove past the parade of minivans lining Cannon Drive and slipped into a reserved parking place near the Gateway Pavilion entrance. Dodging strollers of both the wheeled and pedestrian variety, they made their way to the information desk. Andi raised an eyebrow as Eric tipped the attendant and retrieved a small cooler from behind the counter. He carried the cooler with one hand and pulled her along with the other.
They bypassed the exhibits and made a bee-line for the pond where a swan-shaped paddleboat awaited. With an exaggerated bow, the zoo employee motioned for them to board. It wasn't until they'd launched that Andi realized theirs was the only boat on the water. Eric opened the cooler, spread a cloth napkin across each of their laps, and proceeded to feed her a light brunch of crackers, cheese, and fruit as they paddled.
The atmosphere reminded Andi of Central Park on a much smaller scale. She could see the city's skyscrapers looming over the treetops, although the foliage muted the noises of nearby traffic. With each morsel, Eric's fingertips lingered at her mouth, allowing her the opportunity to nibble and suck on the digits. She watched his eyes narrow, clearly imagining her mouth doing the same to another part of his anatomy.
"This is like something out of a sweet romance novel. Not that that's a bad thing," she quickly added when Eric's shoulders drooped. "I'm just unaccustomed to it. Thank you." Andi leaned into him for a kiss.
"I promise I won't make a habit of it—and I still fully intend to fuck you senseless when we leave this place. My cock's been aching for you for a week. I'm not sure I'll be able to wait 'til we get back to my place, either."
She felt a momentary apprehension at the mention of going back to Eric's farmhouse, just as she felt the apprehension of entertaining Brad at her apartment. Minor things to many people, but to Andi they represented a huge deviation in her pattern of behavior. The frightening part was that she liked it.
Andi thought about that for a moment. No, she decided. Fear was effect, not cause. However, she realized her fear originated from the same source as her excitement: the expanding horizons. That was what she craved, what she enjoyed. Pushing her physical barriers had become routine. Sex still satisfied her, but it held no edge, no danger. The new dimension with Brad and Eric brought back her appetite for experience— the one that led to her uninhibited sexual exploration in the first place.
"Let's go. Pedal me to the shore, lover, and let's leave this playground behind. Let's not wait until we get to your place, though." Andi's voice was gentle, her tone more suggestive than forceful. "Find me an open field where we can lay in the grass under the sun, and I'll ride you. Then, we can climb back on your bike, and I'll let you show me your place. Most especially, you can show me the ceiling of your bedroom while you suck my clit and lick my pussy until I tell you to stop."
Eric jumped on the directive. He started peddling like a kid on his bike tying to get home in time for his favorite cartoons. Andi couldn't help but laugh at the uncharacteristic display of eagerness. He'd always been a cool customer, very conscious of his bearing and controlling the outward expression of his enthusiasm. Thus, his childlike excitement really turned her on, as did the knowledge that she had elicited it.
Eric nearly broke into a run as they maneuvered their way out of the park. As they wove through the traffic, Andi wondered at the risks he took and even more at her reaction to them. Instead of being afraid, she relis
hed the exhilaration. They headed out I-290, and as the suburbs fell behind, Eric really opened the throttle. Her arms tightened around him as the force of the wind buffeted her, and she laughed out loud at the feel of it. It whipped at her clothes like the impatient lover who was driving. She leaned forward into Eric, and he crouched low. The shift in her weight brought her clit into closer contact with the motor's vibration. Trees flew by, and soon the crowded urban lanes opened into farmer's plots and fallow fields.
Half an hour out, Eric slowed and turned onto a rough dirt road. The bike hiccupped before the back tire caught, and they leapt forward, leaving behind a shower of dirt and pebbles. Eric pointed at a grove of trees and shouted something over his shoulder, but she couldn't make it out.
The dirt road curved behind the foliage, and he slowed to a skidding stop with the line of trees between them and the highway. He pulled off his helmet and hung it on the grip of the handlebars, then reached to take Andi's. She grinned, pulled it over her head, and shook her hair out, knowing full well that the move was rather clichéd. From the look on Eric's face, it seemed no less effective for all its commonality. He visibly stiffened and swallowed as she lowered her eyes into contact with his.
Handing the helmet to him, she walked into the tall grass beside the road. She pulled her T-shirt over her head, and spun to throw it at him. He caught it as she reached down and undid the top button on her denim shorts. Eric bared his teeth like a hungry cougar. He stuffed the shirt in the helmet and dropped it on the ground next to the bike before exploding into a run at her. She let go of the zipper's tab and took off, holding up her shorts. He easily caught her around the waist and slung her over his shoulder. Andi giggled, bouncing while he jogged to the edge of the tree line. As he lowered her to her feet, she reached behind her back with one hand and undid the clasp of her bra, letting it fall away.
Eric's eyes grew round, and he dropped his head greedily to her breasts, taking one nipple and then the other into his mouth to nibble and suck. Andi closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of his mouth and teeth. A slight breeze blew across them, lessening the impact of a hot and muggy day, and she relished the feel of it on her face almost as much as his actions. Almost.
Her eyelids fluttered open as Eric sucked each of her nipples hard in turn and pulled away, his teeth barely scraping across them. It was excruciatingly delicious; their hard edges delivered sensations of pain that twisted into pleasure. She was so focused on what he was doing that it took several moments for her to realize what appeared over his shoulder.
"Eric, there's a farmhouse right over there." Andi looked at the white two-story with the wraparound porch. No one was in evidence either in its windows or in the doorway of the barn just beyond. "Uh huh. Do you care? I don't. I want you now!" She giggled at his tone, almost embarrassed at sounding like a schoolgirl but excited by the idea that they might get caught. The difference between their previous outdoor sex venue—dark, edgy, urban—and the wholesome country atmosphere wasn't lost on Andi. Their urgency for one another manifested itself in such delightful ways. "If someone is watching, let's give them one hell of a show!" Andi dropped to her knees in front of him and reached for his belt. His cock strained against the fabric, already hard under the denim of his jeans. As the belt came undone and she pulled the zipper down, it poked out, concealed by the black cotton of his boxer-briefs but making its presence known by slapping against her cheek.
She took the tip of it into her mouth, still encased in the underwear. The cotton pulled the moisture from her mouth. As she withdrew to lick her lips, she noticed that wetting it also caused it to cling, the hard head clearly defined by the grasping fabric. For a moment, she imagined what it would look and feel like if she could bring him off while they were still on the bike, before they reached the sanctity of his rented home. Only her desire to feel the bare soft skin laid over the hard shaft as it slid between her lips kept her from following through on the impulse. She would try it another time, when she'd not had hours of running around a zoo to build her hunger.
She pulled the clinging fabric away and pushed her hands inside the briefs to slide them over his hips. The hard cock again slapped the side of her face as it came free, but this time without an intervening layer of cotton, only the delicious feel of his flesh. Wasting no more time teasing, Andi engulfed him. She took pride in her ability to pull him all the way in at once and in the sudden, sharp intake of breath and moan that the act elicited.
His hands caught in her hair. He started to grip and then settled for letting them rest gently against her. She looked up to find him staring down. Maintaining eye contact, she slowly let his hard cock slip out of her mouth. His eyes closed and his head dropped back before she completed the move, and she felt his fingers spasm. She knew he was fighting the urge, trying to keep the tone sweet and romantic. While she'd enjoyed that aspect, she now wanted him to lose control. She swallowed his cock again and ran her fingernails across the exposed flesh of his ass. Digging them in, she pulled his hips toward her. The shock of painful pleasure and the heat of her mouth did the trick, and his hands tightened in her hair while a barely breathed profanity reached her ears. His hips thrust forward. She would have smiled had her mouth not been full.
Andi encouraged him with a throaty growl, and he finally began to fuck her mouth as she wanted. Enjoying the feel of the hard shaft running across her lips, she fantasized about there being an observer in the house, a lonely hired hand peeking from behind a lace curtain and stroking his cock while he watched them—or a red-haired woman in a gingham dress staring out the window over the sink and fondling the cucumber she was washing, considering it's other possible uses. The intense imagery made Andi wonder about her exhibitionistic impulses.
She stopped Eric with a firm hand against his torso and slipped her fingers into the back pocket of her shorts. Grasping one of the condoms she kept there, she ripped it open with her teeth and positioned it on the head of his cock. She rolled it out over the head and then followed it with her mouth. The unpleasant taste of the latex was tolerable because of the shiver that ran through his legs and the gasp that revealed his pleasure at the unconventional approach. The condom on, Andi stood, her denim cutoffs sliding down her legs as she did so. She pushed him down wordlessly with the same hand. He paused only long enough to pull the black tee shirt over his head and toss it on the grass, sitting down on it and leaning back on his elbows.
Andi stepped out of her shorts, nude except for the white lace of a flimsy g-string. She stepped over him and sank down, moving the thin strip of fabric aside and sighing as Eric's cock filled her pussy. Bracing her knees on either side of him, she bent forward to kiss him and began to ride.
As her nipples brushed across his chest, she bounced on his cock. The grass of the field rubbed against the outside of her legs while the bristly thatch of hair at the base of Eric's prick rubbed against her lips on every downstroke. He collapsed beneath her, staring up at her and cupping her breasts in his big hands, the tall grass framing his smiling face.
The combination of the hot sun on her back, the breeze on her bare skin, and the hard cock filling her pussy began to overwhelm her. With the anticipation of the morning, the dangerous thrill of being in full view of the house, and the sound and glimpses of the nearby Interstate through the trees, it became too much to contain. She felt the approach of an orgasm far sooner than expected.
One hand left her breasts and moved down to finger her clit, providing the final push, and her orgasm shot through her. Andi let her head fall back and cried out with the joy of it, uncaring of possible observation, lost in the sheer pleasure of the moment. Her muscles betrayed her, and she collapsed on his chest, her sweat mingling with his. Eric lifted her face in his hands, locking his eyes onto hers, then grabbed her hips and began to renew to motion. She could feel his thighs clenching beneath her and knew that he too was close. Bracing herself by putting her hands on his broad chest, she raised her body and began to ride him hard.
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Eric heaved beneath her, obviously unwilling to let her do all the work, thrusting on occasion. She watched his eyes and waited. He gave a series of short, powerful upward thrusts that nearly threw her off before she saw his unmistakable sign: a crinkling at the corners of his eyes and a biting of the lower lip. Just as his muscles began to spasm, she leaned down and kissed him. Eric's tongue slipped into her mouth, and she took it in her teeth and held it there firmly while he convulsed beneath her. She released it only after he relaxed, responding to his questioning look with an evil grin. He closed his eyes, a bemused look on his face.
They lay there in stillness, her head resting on his shoulder before he began to stir. A few timeless eternities passed before he shifted and stood, pulling up the jeans and snagging the T-shirt from the ground. He caught her in his arms and lifted her to her feet. "So, you want to ride the rest of the way naked? It's, um…not far." At Eric's grin and comment, Andi realized why he had been so unconcerned about observation. She looked over his shoulder at the farmhouse fifty yards away.
"Bastard!" she exclaimed without malice, striding defiantly to the bike and climbing on to the back. Eric walked over, retrieved her helmet from the ground and paused before reaching for his own, staring at her perched naked on the leather seat. "God damn, but you're beautiful!" "Oh, shut up!" Andi exclaimed, not truly upset. "You better have a
fucking cold beer in that fridge." Eric looked hurt as he climbed on the bike and kicked it to life
again, handing both helmets to her in preparation for the very short trip. "Hey! It's me! Beer is the only thing in that fridge…well, that and
ice cubes." "A hot day like this, we can find a use for those. Drive, stud." The rumble of the bike between her legs told Andi there was still a fun afternoon ahead.
CHAPTER TEN
Everywhere Andi turned, local buzz about the Cubs confronted her. Newspaper headlines, magazine covers, television commentary, as well as the snippets of conversation she overheard on the street and at the corner diner's surrounding tables. The team seemed poised to clinch the National League Central, and it electrified a city hungry for the end of the longest championship drought in sports. Fans were openly talking about forgiving Steve Bartman. She soaked it all up with a mixture of wry amusement and intense pride—amusement over her presumed influence and pride for her lovers, who performed over the last few weeks with a confidence and competence that thrilled her every bit as much as their sexual prowess.
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