by Jake Irons
Chapter 7
Eli
I think I was going to say “okay.” I was going to ask Chelsea if she’s okay. I heard her cry out. I thought maybe she slipped.
If she did, she somehow landed in the bottom of the tub fucking herself. And the sight of her is about to kill my dick.
Her skin is flushed from the top of her head all the way down to her toes. Her tits are incredible: big, round, and heaving. Her shapely legs are spread, and she’s got two fingers knuckle-deep inside herself.
Chelsea’s beautiful brown eyes are wider than her legs. But her fingers are still moving. At least until I murmur, “Fuck…”
Then, as if the spell is broken, she snaps her legs together.
“What the hell,” she cries.
I hold my hands up, glancing at my dick, which is standing up for her as well.
“I can’t believe you’re in here!”
“I heard you—”
“Oh my God, I know,” she wails. “I’m going to die now.” She covers her face with one hand, and I step toward the tub.
“Don’t be embarrassed. You think that’s not the hottest thing I’ve ever seen? You touching yourself in my bathtub? Chelsea, you’re a goddess… I’ll just go. You do whatever you—”
“I’m horny, okay? It’s been forever, and you’re…really hot.” She folds her arms over her breasts, looking defensive. “I was tired, and tense, and—”
“No…” I take a small step toward her. “Chelsea, that’s the thing here. I don’t care.” I hold my arms out. “My bathtub, look—it’s a free country. Do what you need to do. I’ll leave you in peace.”
I notice her gaze drop and almost come in my pants. “Seeing you do that,” I manage, “makes me hard as hell.”
“That happened on the four-wheeler,” she whispers.
I look from her down at myself, then put a hand over my face before I scream in frustration. “It did, yes. As long as you’re here…” I shake my head. “I’m going to go now.”
I turn toward the door, not wanting to menace my surprise houseguest—no matter how hard my dick is now. As soon as my shoulders are squared away from her, I hear a “No.”
I don’t believe my ears, so I don’t turn back toward Chelsea until she whispers, “Eli.”
I turn slowly.
“Come back over here…”
I swear to God, my body lights up like a fucking firework. “You want a hand?” My dick throbs with the words, more so when Chelsea nods.
Her eyes are wide, her teeth clamped on her lower lip, as I kneel by the tub.
“Good girl,” I murmur. “You’re so fucking beautiful…”
Slowly, I reach over, covering her hand with mine, urging her fingers, which are right there are her tight cunt, to push inside. She gasps, then moans as I work her fingers in and out. I tuck my thumb under her hand and find her clit, and Chelsea shakes. She pants and writhes as I rub her clit and she takes over the finger-fucking. In and out…deep in, and shallow out. She whines when I urge her fingers fully out, lifting her hand so I can taste her.
Then I reach back down and cover her with my hand. I curl my middle finger up, slowly, shallowly, just barely parting her lips. She rewards me with a mewing sound that might just rip these jeans.
I find her clit and push my palm against it while my finger slides deeper into her pussy. I add a second finger and her ass comes off the tub. I push her back down, and she rocks against me as I fuck her with my fingers. She moans, and I feel her tighten around me.
“Oh fuck! Oh yes!”
Her right hand covers mine and her left squeezes my arm. I feel her throb around me and I spread my fingers, making her feel full as I continue thrusting smoothly, still teasing her clit with my palm.
“Oh God!” Her knees clamp down around my arm. “I’m gonna come!”
Chapter 8
Tara
Holy fucking hell. Did that really just happen?
It really fucking did.
Holy hell.
I blink at Eli as he grabs a fluffy white towel and offers me his hand. I grab it and rise on unsteady legs. He wraps the towel around me, then scoops me up and carries me out of the bathroom.
I don’t have time to feel more than slight shock and the afterglow of my orgasm as he carries me into the living space, then to the closed door perpendicular to the bathroom. I try to think of something clever to say, but I’m distracted by his strong arms, and the hard length that’s jutting into my backside.
He opens the door, and I get a brief glimpse of his bedroom—cedar walls, beige carpet, small wood-burning stove—before he drops me onto a large, king-sized bed.
The towel disappears, and Eli’s big, warm hands caress my breasts as he stretches out over me. He teases my nipple with his fingertips and then gives it a little nip, which makes me whimper. I grab onto his shoulders and squeeze. I love how big they are.
I try to grab his shirt and pull it over his head, but I’m not having much success.
“Get naked,” I demand.
He gives me one final nip then sits up with a smirk. ”Say please.”
I run a fingertip around my nipple. “Please…”
Eli pulls his shirt over his head, and I’m happy to report there must be a gym somewhere up on this mountain, because he is cut as fuck. His chest is bulky, his shoulders are wide, his arms are bulging, and he has like an honest to god eight-pack.
He wiggles his eyebrows. “Like what you see?”
“Get those pants off!”
“What’s the magic word?”
“The magic word is I’ll do it.”
I sit up, grab his belt, unfasten it, and unbutton his pants. I pull them down, revealing gray boxer-briefs and a sinful bulge. I dig my fingers under the elastic band and slowly pull his boxer-briefs down. First I see a bush of brown hair, then a thick veiny shaft, and more shaft, and even more shaft. When I finally pull the underwear off his fat, purple head, his erection pops up like a jack in the box, and bobs.
I slide to the edge of the bed, swing my legs over so I can sit up. I caress Eli’s balls—his nice, heavy balls—with one hand and stroke his dick with the other. He sighs and grabs a handful of my hair as I lean down to lick his head.
I take it in my mouth and lick all around it before lathering his shaft. He makes an “Mmmmm” sound, and I lick my way back up. I cover his head again and take some of him down my throat. I’m pretty good at deep-throating, but he’s so thick it’s going to be a challenge. I take a few inches then come back up and run my tongue down to his balls and back up. He moans, and I swallow a few more inches. I suck and suck and both of his hands end up in my hair, urging me to go deeper.
I come up for air and circle his head a few times with my tongue, and he steps the rest of the way out of his pants. He pushes himself back down my throat, as deep as he can get, and I almost gag, especially when I see what’s around his ankle—a gun?
Eli’s loud moan reminds me of my mission. His fingers in my hair tighten as he pulls out of my throat a bit and then pushes back in. He does this again, faster, and again, harder, and again, deeper. He moans loudly and I feel him swell. Then he pulls out.
“You’re fucking amazing at that,” he sighs.
“But you didn’t come,” I whine.
“Were you hungry?” he asks. He pushes me so I’m laying flat on the bed with my legs hanging off. He lifts them and puts them over his broad shoulders. “Me too.”
His blue eyes burn as he leans down to place a soft kiss on my clit.
“Ooooh.”
He kisses me again, then slides his tongue down my slit, dipping into my wetness before licking back up to my clit. I moan and buck, and he pushes me back to the bed with his mouth. Sucking me. Tasting me. Driving me crazy.
“Oh fuck.”
He slides two fingers into me, and I can barely contain myself. I’m so full. I rock against him, and his fingers sink deeper. This is a better angle than in the tub, and his fingers are big
. I moan and arch off the bed. He pushes me down with his tongue again, and I gasp.
I clench and unclench around his fingers. I’m already close to coming, but—“Inside me,” I gasp.
He lifts his head. “Hmmmm?”
“Fuck me!” I moan.
“But I haven’t tasted everything.”
He pulls his fingers out, licks them, and then replaces them with his tongue. Oh God I didn’t know a tongue could go that deep. He’s literally tongue-fucking me, and it only takes a few thrusts before I’m over the edge.
“Fuck! Oh fuck yes!”
I lay on the bed, panting, barely aware of him as he climbs up between my trembling legs. Then I feel something warm and round circling my pussy, setting my nerves on fire again.
I lift my head to look—I see his massive, swollen head. I sigh and lean back as he stretches his beautiful body over mine. I notice his eyes are darker now—like the sky at dusk.
He bends to kiss me full on the mouth, and I taste myself on his lips. Then he takes his cock in hand and rubs his head up and down my slit.
“You want it?”
“Yes,” I moan.
“Tell me you want it.”
I swat his hard chest. “I want it!”
He rocks his hips forward, thrusting into me, and I am so full. So, so full. He pushes again, and I moan as he goes deeper. So deep it hurts.
His balls bounce against my ass as he fucks me hard and fast. I return each thrust, lifting my ass off the bed and forcing my legs wider, straining to take every inch of him. I grab my bouncing breasts and squeeze as punishes my pussy.
He groans. “So fucking tight.”
I clutch his biceps. Claw his neck.
“My nipples,” he pants. “Pinch them.”
I do, and he groans again, and I groan because that’s fucking hot.
I pinch them, twist them, but it’s too hard to focus on that with the pounding he’s given me. I lift my shoulders off the bed so I can reach around and grab his ass. I squeeze it and urge him deeper.
“Fuck,” he groans.
“Harder,” I cry.
He fucks me harder. He pulls himself out almost to his head and punches inside of me, back out again and back in, over and over as my heart gallops and I don’t think I can take anymore.
“I’m gonna come,” I cry.
“Me too,” he groans.
He pulls almost out one more time, then slams inside me.
I come, screaming.
Chapter 9
Tara
I open my mouth, overly conscious of his eyes on me, intense as they wait. My mouth waters as the delicious tangy smell of Eli’s steak fills my nose. I close my lips around the fork, and my taste-buds erupt into applause.
“Mmmmmm,” I say. I close my eyes—no, no, I’m not going to make another orgasm face. Not over food. “This is so good,” I tell him before I’m finished chewing.
He smiles and pretends to wipe sweat from his brow. “It would have sucked to find out all these times I thought I was making decent meals, I was really making crap.”
“This is better than decent.”
I’ve already got my next bite loaded, so I pull the trigger and survey the scene.
We’re sitting at the kitchen table, across from each other. We’re eating off brown, earthenware plates, and what we’re eating is delicious: two generous portions of venison wrapped in bacon, a Greek salad, and, in honor of our shared heritage, buttered rolls.
Satisfied with my review, Eli turns to his own plate, and I try I focus my attention on the meal. It’s legit good enough to distract me from being awkward, which is kind of impressive, since the hands that tossed this salad were tossing me like half an hour ago.
That was a pretty terrible joke; that’s something I do when I get nervous or embarrassed: make terrible jokes. Fortunately I didn’t make it out loud, and Eli can’t read my mind. I think. I hope he can’t. He fucked me so good I might actually believe him if he told me he could.
ELI! ELI! IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, I’M READY FOR ROUND TWO!
I brave a glance—his attention is on his plate. He seems awkward, so
I swallow my bite and take a stab at conversation. “How did you learn to cook like this?”
“Practice,” he says.
“Mmmmm, it definitely paid off.” I take another bite and try to savor the flavor. Eli’s eyes return to his plate. I sigh—oops, his eyes are up again. I must have sighed too loud. “I’m envious,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow. “So that sigh had nothing to do with me?”
“Why would it?”
“Because I’m acting ‘weird.’”
I smile innocently. “Are you? I wouldn’t know.”
He rolls his eyes, then opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. “I’m sorry for coming inside of you.”
I choke on my wine, and he stands up. I hold my hand out, clear my throat, and laugh. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”
He sits back down. “Maybe I should have softened my delivery.”
“It’s fine. And don’t be sorry about…you know. I would have stopped you if I needed to, but I’m on birth control.”
He shakes his head. “I should have used protection.”
“I’m on birth control,” I repeat. Then something unpleasant occurs to me. “Do you, uh… do you have any, um—”
“No, definitely not,” he says quickly. “I’m clean. And I didn’t mean to imply anything about you either. It’s just—the Murphys have potent sperm.”
I laugh out loud. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
“My dad had three brothers and two sisters.”
“Wow. That’s a lot,” was also my reaction when I read that a week ago. “But seriously, don’t be worried. Not only do I take my birth control like clock work, but it’s not a good time for that to happen anyway.”
He nods. “Even with birth control I like to double down, just in case.”
“Is that why you come to bed with a gun?”
I don’t know why I asked it—I guess I was more curious than I realized. And maybe a little nervous. Especially since he wears it around his ankle. I grew up around guns, and a gun around the ankle is a secret, hidden gun…not exactly a wear-around-the-house gun.
Eli’s reaction isn’t comforting. His face goes still, completely still, except for his eyes. Well, they’re still, too, but slightly wide, and they’re making me unstill with their intensity. When something finally does move, it’s his lips.
“You want the truth?” he asks quietly.
I nod, although now I kinda don’t.
“I’m wearing this gun in case you were sent here to kill me.”
“You’re…what?” Is he serious? He looks serious. His face hasn’t changed and it’s super serious and his eyes are super intense and watching and—oh God that’s a smile. He’s grinning now.
“You scared the hell out of me!”
“I couldn’t help myself.”
I frown/smile. “You need to learn to help yourself,” I say. “I’m a poor, defenseless, innocent girl with a broken ankle over here!”
“Innocent?” he asks, eyebrows raised.
It takes me a moment to realize he’s referring to the sex, and not my nefarious plan. “Excuse me?” I demand.
He grins. “I’m kidding. And to answer your question, there’s a cougar that wanders onto the property occasionally.”
I gulp. “I take it you don’t mean a sexy older woman.”
“A mountain lion.”
“A real mountain lion?” I squeak.
“Yep.”
“And he lives here!”
Eli nods. “His room’s downstairs.”
“What?!” He grins, and I roll my eyes. “I know he doesn’t live in the house! But does he live near it?”
“No, he doesn’t. His den is a few miles northeast, I think. He just shows up from time to time.”
“How often is from time to time?’”
&nbs
p; Eli takes a bite and considers while he chews. “Well, sometimes on snowy evenings. If I’ve cooked something yummy.” My eyes widen. “And especially—especially—if there are poor, defenseless, innocent girls about.”
“Har har har.”
“I only notice him maybe once or twice a month.”
“What does he do when you see him?” I ask.
“We’ve only come face-to-face a few times. Typically I find tracks, or droppings. Sometimes Acer starts barking like crazy, and I assume Herman is around.”
“Is that his name?”
Eli nods, and I smile. Herman. “I don’t know that it’s a male,” he says. “In all probability it’s a female. But I called her Herman the first time I saw her. She just looked like a Herman.”
“Oh my gosh, that’s hilarious and terrifying.” I really want to see this mountain lion. “How close have you gotten?”
“Too close. One time I walked up on her during her mealtime. A fawn. I was maybe twenty yards form her when she started hissing.”
“What did you do?”
“I backed away, and not slowly. As soon as I turned the bend I ran like hell.”
I laugh. “As inexperienced as I am, even I know that’s not what you’re supposed to do.”
His smile is grim. “It’s about the worst thing to do. You’re supposed to face them and talk in a loud, stern voice, then back away slowly.”
“What is a ‘loud, stern’ voice going to do?”
Eli shrugs. “I don’t know. That’s when I started carrying the gun, though. And in case you’re wondering, I don’t carry it holstered to my waist because that reminds me of my stepdad.”
I nod. His stepdad was a cop. But I shouldn’t know that. “Oh?”
“He was a cop.”
“Oh.”
Eli turns his attention back to his food, but I’m not done with him yet. “So…what do you do for fun around here? When you aren’t hunting mountain lions?”
“Being outside, mostly. Hiking. Gardening. Star-gazing.”
“Star-gazing, huh?”
“Don’t give me that look.”