“Uh, yeah… sure, I mean, whatever you say.” I replied in a series of stammers. It must have been obvious that I was nervous, because Jackson laughed.
“Don’t worry little girl,” he said, “I got a tent you can use. I’ll just sleep in the truck. We can start off at first light tomorrow.”
“God, this man,” I thought. In my quarter-century of life, I’d never known anyone like this. Here I was, a girl from Miami up in the mountains of Montana with a real life John Wayne. I noticed that just thinking about him got me a little bit wet. I tried to ignore it out of embarrassment, but watching him put the tent up, laying the bedding out and starting a little campfire to cook on just got me more worked up.
***
After a Spartan supper of baked beans and hotdog wieners, we reclined on an extra sleeping bag Jackson found in the back of his truck. I sat so close to him that every time he shifted his weight, he brushed against me. I have come to realize that it was probably on purpose.
“Hey, listen Frankie, sorry about this.” He said.
“Oh, no, no don’t worry about it.” I replied, “this is kind of fun. I haven’t camped out in a long time. The stars up here are gorgeous and I know I’m safe with you around.”
I can’t believe I said that. I mean, it was true and all, but that was something I meant to keep in. He didn’t seem to mind though.
“Well,” he began, with that cowboy drawl of his, “that’s nice of you to say. And yeah, you’ll be just fine. It is nice up here, isn’t it?”
So far away from any city lights or, really, anything at all, the sky was darkening to a forest of candle lights against a black background. I lay back to take it all in and was quite surprised when my head came to rest in the crook of a muscular, powerful arm. When I looked over at Jackson, that same gentle, honest smile from before was on his lips.
“I’ve been watching you for, what, three weeks now?” He said, looking deep into my eyes. “You are something special, Frankie. Something about you really gets me going. This is a lonely job, yeah, but I’ve had other assistants before. You’re different though.”
‘Flabbergasted’ is a really funny word, but that’s what I was. I turned as red as the leather of my boots, but couldn’t look away from him. This, right here, this was a real man. I’d never been with one of them before, I realized.
“I…uh… thank you,” I smiled, fully aware that I was the color of a beetroot. “I don’t know what to…”
As I lay there with my head nestled in his elbow, blushing like I’d never gotten a compliment before, my cowboy tossed his hat away and rolled over to face me, running the back of his hand against my cheek. He pushed a tendril of hair away from my eyes and looked at me a moment longer before he leaned in and kissed me. I might have been unable to speak very clearly, but I wanted to make sure he knew that I wanted him, so I put my hand to the back of his head, holding him close to me. The stubble of his mustache made a delicious scratching sound as we parted and I pulled him in again, stroking his face with my lips before pressing my mouth to his, deeper and harder than the last time.
Breathing him in, kissing him and holding my hand to the smooth skin at the back of his neck, I was still in a little shock that all this was happening to me. While I pondered the universe, this beautiful cowboy above me brought a hand to my chin, pulled my lips apart gently, and slid his tongue into me. I moaned as his French kiss penetrated me, and closed my eyes. With all my boyfriends, I had always been the one that played leader in our escapades, but this time, I decided, Jackson was definitely in charge. A guy who could control huge horses was certainly capable of taking care of me.
Reclined against him, I answered each of Jackson’s kisses with my own. It was hard – very hard – not to try and rush ahead full-speed, to try and wrestle his clothes off and get down to business. I got the distinct impression that even if I had tried to speed things up, it just wasn’t going to happen. This cowboy was kind and gentle, but he was also clearly determined to make the best of our night alone. He was in no hurry at all, we weren’t going anywhere for a very long time, and he knew it.
The sky was full dark now, but the stars and the nearly full moon cast a ghostly but wonderful pale light across the small plateau we were on. Jackson was framed against the sky, highlighted by it. Shadows cast by the moon on his face accentuated his cheekbones and full lips, and from this distance, less than three inches away, I could see that he had smile lines at the corners of his mouth to match those on his eyes. Almost as though he knew what I was thinking, he drew back from me for a moment and smiled one of his disarming, genuine smiles that I had seen more in the past half hour than I had in three weeks. He traced a hand up my jawline, brushing my hair away again, and kissed me, and then he propped up on an elbow and unbuttoned the top two buttons of my work shirt.
Jackson pressed his warm, full lips to the skin of my chest as he slowly unclasped each button and let my shirt fall to the side in a cascade. His breath against my skin tingled and warmed me all the way down my chest. He lingered around my navel, nibbled gently at me, and traced circles with the tip of his tongue. As he did, goose bumps rose in a flush of heat that covered my belly and made the place between my legs more wet than it already was.
When my shirt was fully unbuttoned, he undid the top of my jeans, pushed them down just a little bit, and kissed me three times, tracing the zipper of my fly down. He pressed the hot tip of his tongue onto me over my panties and tasted me all the way back up, pausing again at my belly button to nibble and tease. Achingly slow, Jackson traced the line of my abdomen back up, lightly kissing the whole way. He brushed his lips under the curve of my breasts and unhooked my bra. After he freed me from the tight bra I wore to work in, he leaned back on his arm and beheld me for a few seconds.
“I’ve never told you this before,” he began, “but you are gorgeous, Frankie. Absolutely gorgeous.” His eyes took on a kind of thousand-yard stare when he spoke, as though I’d entranced him somehow.
I expected to blush again, but this time I took it in stride. It was my turn to lead a little, I thought.
I smiled a wicked, sultry smile, and reached over to him, pulling his mouth to mine for another quick, hard kiss before pushing him down to the pink, sensitive skin of my nipples. I led his mouth to my left one, and he volunteered his hand to the right. Jackson engulfed my nipple in his mouth, circling and teasing the tip with his able tongue and gently pinching the other between his fingertips. As he enjoyed me, he moved his arm out from under me and straddled my legs for easier access. He cupped one breast in each hand and squeezed the base while he played with my nipples. Somehow, this seemed to make my already sensitive nipples light on fire under his touches. They stiffened, soft skin of my areolas pebbling, as he squeezed, sucked and pinched.
I squealed in pleasure when Jackson switched nipples and warmed the right one with his hot, delicious mouth. In spite of the kneading and playing he was doing which had me so ready for him that I can’t describe it and the wetness in my crotch that had soaked through my panties and started on my jeans, I managed to start popping the snaps of his shirt apart. The skin of his chest matched his face – browned by years in the sun but still soft and supple. The hard muscles of his chest and stomach were, like the rest of him, totally different from anything I’d experienced before. This hard, manly cowboy was nothing like the pale waif of a boy who dumped me three months ago. This, I reflected for what seemed to be the eighteenth time, was a real man.
My man’s excitement matched mine, I noticed, when he shifted his weight and a thick hardness in his jeans brushed against the top of my exposed panties. I was horny before, but that drove me wild. As he sucked at my tits, I fumbled with the belt buckle that kept Jackson’s treasure locked away from me. He lifted himself off me a few inches and I was able to get him unhooked. I bit my lip out of nervous habit, trying to pull the hard piece of leather through the hoops on the buckle but I couldn’t manage to do it. He sensed my mixture of frustratio
n and urgency and reached down to help. Taking my hand, he squeezed my fingers around the belt and pushed it forward. When the belt hung down limp, he coached my fingers to the button of his fly and then onto his zipper to pull it down.
This slow, deliberate love making was completely outside of my experience. I’d never been fucked by a man who wasn’t in a hurry to get to the end of the line, who wasn’t far more interested in himself than in me. Jackson seemed to be just as pleasured by all of my little gasps and squeals and moans as he was by my fishing around his now-opened pants for that big tool I felt pressed against my crotch. My fingers looped around the fiery skin of his manhood, and for some reason, just touching him sent shivers up and down my back. The thought of this horse breaker inside me was enough to get me bucking my hips against the hard jeans on his leg, desperately trying to rub myself on him.
He ran a finger from my chin to the top of my underwear, and as he hooked it and began to tug them down, the tiny hairs on my skin prickled up. Every part of me wanted his touch, it seemed. I lifted my hips into the air and my cowboy slid my panties and jeans down and off over my feet in one movement. I think I was finally getting to him – he stood up and took his own clothes off just after he undressed me. When he crouched back down over me, he gazed at my nakedness, ran his hands down the sides of my body and kneaded his fingers into my waist as he kissed my belly.
I knew I was wet, but I had no idea that my sex was so soaked that he could just slip two fingers inside me. As he slowly rotated his fingers in my pussy, hitting all the spots that sent surges of electric pleasure through me, Jackson lifted his lips from my belly back to my nipples. I moaned a long, low purr as he thrilled my button with the tip of his thumb and nibbled gently on the stiff peaks of my tits. Not only was this cowboy strong and gentle, he knew what he was doing with a woman’s body besides.
I rolled my head back, resting it on the sleeping bag we’d sat on to eat, and watched the burning stars as my desire for this man exploded with every suck, nip and swirl.
“Oh, Jackson, this is incredible,” I said as my breath quickened and the air around us got hotter and thicker with our growing ecstasy. In return he smiled at me again and kissed me, twirling his tongue into my mouth in time with the massaging sweeps of his fingers in my sopping hole.
“Harder, work me harder, baby,” I moaned as he withdrew from my lips and watched me writhe under him while my climax built.
He drove his fingers deep into me and grinded his palm against my clit as the walls of my pussy started to quiver around his fingers. I spread my legs as wide as I could and pushed down against his hand as the waves of my first orgasm gushed out of me in a torrent of sweet juice that dripped down the insides of my thighs and the back of his soft, brown hand.
Slowly, Jackson withdrew his hand from within me and sucked a finger into his mouth, tasting my sex. “Jesus, Frankie,” he began, “this taste – your taste, everything about you is unbelievable.
This velvet-voiced, silver-tongued horse breaker had finally pushed me too far.
With cum dripping from between my legs, I pushed myself up onto an elbow and reached down to take his heavy member into my hand. As an afterthought, I ran my fingers around my inflamed pussy to collect my moisture and then stroked it onto him. He was thick and long in my hand, “this cock,” I said, “is going to fill me up. I need it so bad. So, so bad.”
As I traced the veins from base to tip, Jackson began to thrust himself gently against my hand. I gripped him and pumped, using the wetness from my crotch to lube him. The stars all around us cast a white light across our bodies; the light bounced from his cock to my eyes as I took in all the curves and lines of him down there, hovering inches away from my slit. I guided him to my opening and touched the tip to my lips.
“Aah!” I shrieked softly as he pushed his head in while I looked into his eyes. He moved into me in slow, deliberate strokes that stretched me and teased me by equal measures. His prick dipped in an inch and then back out almost all the way. He thrust in two inches the next time, and then backed out. Halfway in, all the way out he teased me again, and drew another expectant gasp from my lips.
I stared, again, deep into Jackson’s eyes, and as I did, he slid himself all the way in to my still-gushing sex. I arched my back, tilting my hips to let him in as deep as he could go. When I felt the smooth, hot skin of his sack against me, I squealed again and reached down to grip his firm, beautiful ass in my hands. With two handfuls of cheek, I pulled him into me as hard as I could, refusing to let him back out. The deep, hard grinding of his body against mine thrilled and filled me until I couldn’t contain myself. Sounds that I didn’t know I could make came out of me, and he took that as a welcome cue to give me his full length, hard and deep.
Jackson pulled out almost all the way and then drove in to the hilt. The slap of his balls against me almost made me cum again just from the sound, but he quickly pulled back and stroked in again. I wanted this to last at least for a few minutes more. I never felt these things before – the slick sound of him moving inside me, the scratching of his stubble against the skin of my breasts when he bent his head, our scents mixing in the air – all of it made this experience something akin to a first trip to a theme park. I figured this was a good time to try something else I’d never done before.
“Oh, it feels so good,” I started, in short breaths, “I want to be on top, let me ride that big, hard cock of yours, please, please.”
Another smile.
He withdrew and laid back, holding his cock straight up in the air for me to use as a sort of landing path.
I faced away from him and crouched down to one knee, leading him in with one hand and massaging his smooth ballsack with the other. When he was all the way in, I began to rock back and forth, rolling him around inside me. He was in so achingly deep that I could feel him bump against the deepest parts of my dripping pussy every time I grinded down on him. I hunched forward, one hand holding myself up off the ground, and the other pulling and fondling his balls. His hands scratched gently at the skin on my back, raising another trail of goose bumps as I slammed down onto him over and over again.
Waves of heat began to radiate upward from my kitty filled with this cowboy, and I propped myself up into a squatting position to make the road to my second cum a little longer. I leaned back and lay against his chest, keeping one hand at the entrance to my hole and relished the feeling of his sliding in and out of me. Jackson’s hands came to my chest, and his playful pinching and squeezing made me sex-crazy again. I stood, letting his rod slip out of me.
“Alright, cowboy,” I said in my best grown up voice, “I want you to finish me off from behind. I want that big dick deep, and I want you to fill me all up with everything you’ve got. Can you do that for me?”
Jackson grinned an impish grin and replied with a curt “Yes’m,” as he moved around behind me.
I dropped to all fours and opened myself wide to let him in. As I looked backward, between my legs, he moved into position and shoved himself deep. I could tell by the grunting back there that his first stroke was almost his last.
“I... Jesus, you’re so tight, so wet... I’m not gonna last long,” Jackson said, his voice a hot, pre-orgasmic whisper.
As soon as he said that, the muscles of my pussy started to grip and twitch more and more with each long, languid thrust he made. I reached between my legs and pulled his sack up to feel his heat on the opening of my slit and pushed back into him as hard as I could. On the third stroke, he grabbed my hips tight and slammed into me quick and hard. His cock got stiffer and harder inside me and I felt the skin of his sack contract as his orgasm built. As he began to explode, his hand went around my waist and he pressed hard on my clit as he desperately thrust into me over and over, filling me with his hot, sticky cum.
His jolting, humping and the way he was playing with me made sure I didn’t last. His sloppy, wet strokes sent torrents of my juice running down my legs and over his cock and as he pushed
into me, still hard, my pussy tightened and convulsed around him. Waves of hot pleasure shot through my ass and up my lower back. It felt, for a second, like the light of all those stars above us was moving through me, so hot was the energy coursing through my body. I breathed hard and heavy, almost getting winded as my inner walls held him tight and refused to let him go until they were through. Inside me, our juices mixed and I felt him began to go soft when my pulsing stopped.
“Oh, my God!” I exclaimed and collapsed in a heap on the sleeping bag by our little campfire that somehow still burned.
As Jackson relaxed down beside me, I noticed that his hat was close by. I reached over, grabbed it, and placed it on top of his head.
“Now, there you go. A proper cowboy again.” I said.
I rested my head on his chest and closed my eyes.
“You know,” he said, “we’ve got another contract coming in next week. You gonna stay on staff? I could really use someone out here that’s as good as you are with... the horses...”
I smiled this time.
“Somehow, I think I’m going to be coming out here for a while.” I replied.
I heard him moan a little, and then I closed my eyes. The last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep was the feeling of his hand brushing against the side of my cheek.
From Francis Ashe
Check out my other erotic stories at my Amazon Author Page
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Twitter: @FrancisAshe
Email: [email protected]
Blog: francisashe.wordpress.com
A BDSM Love Story
By Marie Shore
Chapter 1
The first day of school is something I always dreaded as a child. Now, being the parent, I couldn't wait for it to start again. My 10 year old son, Nathan, had other ideas on the subject. He whined at me as I herded him into the car to do some clothes shopping. "Aww Mom, I don't want to back to school." "Sorry Kiddo, it's the law." I cheerfully replied, getting into the car. After glancing in the mirror to make sure he had buckled himself in, we started off towards the local K-mart.
Steamy Stories (Volume 1) Page 6