Must Love Hogs

by Xavier Neal

  By the time a slow song finally greets us, I’m breathless, and utterly grateful to be able to rest my flailing limbs.

  Ford tips my chin up at the time his arm curls around me tighter. “My little geeky cowgirl…”

  “Farm Boy…”

  Our eyes dance together the same way we do. They stayed locked tight. Completely devoted to only each other. Inseparable.

  His hand moves to stroke my cheek, and the feeling of his rough thumb against my soft skin sparks a familiar ache I’m not sure I want to go long without soothing.

  He instantly recognizes the response. “You ready to go home?”

  My heart swells at the term.

  Home. My apartment. His house. Both are home now. Both are where we belong together. I’ve never had anything like this before. Sometimes it feels too damn good to be true.

  Unable to speak, I nod my desire, which is rewarded with his lips on top of mine. The faint hint of beer invades my mouth courtesy of his eager tongue. With his hand keeping me sealed to him, he relentlessly ravishes every bit available and groans his hunger for more.

  Ford abruptly abandons the kiss in such a manner I know it’s a way to maintain control. “Home.”

  “Now.”

  He groans a second time and darts the direction we came. On our way out the door, we swing by the bar where he informs Blake if he’s crashing in his guest room or on the couch to use the spare key. The threat of what will happen if he rings the doorbell instead brings a deep blush to my cheeks.

  Farm Boy wants me…And he wants me all night long, with absolutely no interruptions.

  The drive home is a steamy blur. Like fiends, our hands and lips wander every chance we get. Stop lights. Stop signs. Brief unexpected slowdowns. As soon as we hit the other side of the threshold to the house, Ford’s restraint shatters. His mouth drops to the crook of my neck and begins to consume like never before. My hands paw at the buttons of his shirt unable to get them open fast enough. Without a second thought, Ford yanks it open, the sound of buttons falling down the stairs like tiny applause of approval for moving everything along. I allow my fingers to trail over his chest’s definition on our trek to the top. Once he realizes we’ve made it this far, he leads us off to the right, his mouth now toying with my fingers.

  Bright moonlight illuminates his entire bedroom. My attention is only granted a brief moment of observation of my second night in it before Ford is commanding it’s his again. The beautiful basic style of his dark wooded bed, matching nightstand and bookshelves, are all things still worth fawning over in my opinion. Our mouths collide once more except this time our hands savagely shed the boundaries preventing us from the closeness we truly want. In a fury of reckless kisses and greedy grabs, we tumble onto his bed, my impatience to feel him deep inside reaching excruciatingly painful levels.

  Ford breaks away to reach for protection from the side of the bed he’s closest to, however, my hand flies to stop him. “Wait.”

  His heavy deep breath is filled with frustration. “Baby, please don’t tell me you wanna stop.”

  I give him a sarcastic expression at the same time my hand lands on his chest. “Not a chance in hell.”

  “Then I should-”

  “We don’t need them.”

  Ford’s uncertainty on how to respond pokes at the insecurity I have been feeling over the decision.

  “I mean…I don’t think we do.”

  He stays silent.

  “I’ve been checked. You’ve been checked. I’m on the pill…”

  His hand falls to my hip as he rolls over to face me.

  “And if…something were to happen then…” my ramble gets away from me, “then I’m glad it would be with you.”

  The green eyes I love more than life itself sometimes, begin to glow.

  “Not that I’m saying, I want that now or tomorrow or-”

  Ford’s mouth captures mine ending the conversation.

  I’m not ready for kids at all. Raising Princess Pinky has been a handful and a half, but I do know someday I want them with Ford. I want the family life he grew up in. I want the closeness I never experienced with my own. I want all of Ford Shaw. Every. Last. Bit.

  Our kiss deepens and he gently rolls me over onto my side. Ford’s body tenderly positions mine to be braced against his. He nudges my legs apart, tips our lips away from one another, and thrusts inside with such intensity, my pussy weeps for mercy. A breath is robbed from me, but Ford replaces the air with erotic rolls from his tongue to match the ones of his hips. His bare cock stretches me wide. Fills me with an unprecedented completeness. My muscles do everything they can to accommodate his size and praise its overdue return. I dig my nails into his forearm as all of my senses become overwhelmed with pleasure. Somehow I manage to pull my mouth away to catch a breath, which prompts Ford to pierce deeper. Each hard pump is sensuous and every heavy groan is gratifying. Our struggle to sustain oxygen turns into a sea of never ending panting. The constant prurient penetration of my g-spot causes my body to betray me, like usual, long before I’m ready.

  My head angles back towards his just in time to whisper, “I’m coming.”

  Ford clamps his hand on the back of my neck while the other bruises the spot it’s claimed on my hips. My pussy viciously squeezes his cock, anxious to complete the first condom free experience it’s ever had. His straining body that is trying to resist climaxing becomes an erotic sight all its own.

  The longing to have his orgasm overpower mine, I whisper, “Come for me, Ford.”

  There’s no question. No extra guessing. He relinquishes all control, pounds twice more, and finally feeds the greedy monster he’s turned my pussy into. Sweltering burst after burst surges inside and satisfied sighs are stripped from us both. Ford’s mouth nips its way towards mine, only stopping when they’re linked back together.

  After a moment of our tongues lightly touching, he whispers, “I love you Ollie.”

  “I love you too, Ford.”

  Our lips mesh back together, and I allow myself to get lost once more in our life altering passion. Which is exactly what falling in love with Ford has been. It has ameliorated my life in every way. And as scary as I thought it would be, as scary as people make it sound, sometimes change can be incredible. Sometimes change can be easy. Sometimes change is exactly what you need.

  The sound of cabinets being slammed causes me to groan in irritation. My eyes reluctantly open despite Ollie’s warm body nestled against me encouraging them to stay closed. For a moment, I gently stoke her shoulder blade, her arm, and the side of her face.

  I never thought my whole life would be found in another person. I never imagined someone would give themselves to me the way she has. Hell, I never imagined I could.

  After a gentle, chaste kiss on her forehead, I slip out of her grasp, grab a pair of yard work shorts and head downstairs to remind my big brother to have some goddamn manners.

  As I round the corner at the end of the stairs for my kitchen, I begin to scold, “Did you get so drunk you forgot the warning I gave you on my way out? I specifically said no-”

  My voice instantly stops.

  “Mornin’, Ford,” Carol Ann greets from where she’s sitting at my wooden table near the patio doors.

  No…There’s no way this woman is sitting in my dining room. This is a dream. A bad one. A goddamn nightmare, but not real. Not at all. She may have the same perfectly sun kissed skin and the same smoldering light brown eyes….and she may have the always perfect make up and the dirty blonde hair I used to run my fingers through, but she’s just a hallucination. A very unwanted figment of my sleep deprived imagination.

  I give my face a good scrub hoping to wake up.

  “You’re not going to say mornin’ back? Where are your manners?”

  Reluctantly, I let my attention drag itself back to the woman who walked out of my life six months ago.

  Six months ago. It’s been six months. Not a phone call. Not a text. Not a fucking word. S
ix months…The best six months I’ve ever had in my entire fucking life. Six months I needed to move on to what I really wanted in life.

  On a heavy sigh, I lean my body against the counter edge I’m closest too. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  She blows the steam away from her coffee. “Really? No good mornin’?”

  “No.”

  “How about a ‘good to see you, Carol Ann’?”

  But it’s neither of those things. It’s not a good morning with her here. It’s not good to see the face that couldn’t think twice about mine. It’s not good to be staring into eyes I could never truly trust. The only thing good right now is the fact the love of my life is passed the hell out from a night coming so many times she lost count.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I fold my arms across my chest. “And how the hell did you get in?”

  “I came to see you.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean why?”

  “What else could I possibly mean, Carol Ann?”

  “I don’t know! You’re always the one talking in circles.”

  “No. That was you. You were always the one who couldn’t say what she really wanted to say. You were the one who always made excuses and took our arguments in exhausting circles.”

  “This is not a good way to start a Sunday, Ford!”

  “You started this fight!”

  “You did! Why can’t you just greet me like the gentleman you are supposed to be!”

  I grit my teeth. “Why, Carol Ann? Why are you here?”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Ollie’s voice croaks unexpectedly from behind me.

  My head snaps around to see a look of betrayal I can’t handle.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Carol Ann growls back defensively.

  Both women turn their attention to me, and I shake my head in an irate fashion.

  I knew it. I knew life was going too well not to be disturbed.

  “Ford,” Ollie quietly calls to me.

  Innocently, I state, “I had no clue she was here.”

  She tugs the shirt I had been wearing the night before closed tighter. “Then how the hell did she get in?”

  “With my key.”

  Carol Ann’s words land like a ton of bricks on my shoulder.

  That she failed to leave behind. Took every fucking thing else. Gave away my goddamn hog yet somehow managed to remember to keep the key to my house. The one place she always seems to find herself back at….

  “You still have a key?” The defeated sound in Ollie’s voice expands the knot in my throat.

  “This is my home, hon,” Carol snaps nefariously. “Of course I do.” I’m not given a chance to comment. “Now what the hell are you doing here?”

  Ollie weakly sighs, “Leaving…”

  Without waiting for anything else to be explained or declared, she bolts back the direction she came.

  Instinctively, I yell, “Ollie wait!”

  I give Carol Ann a frustrated glare and take off after Ollie. By the time I enter the bedroom she’s somehow already yanked on her jeans along with her bra.

  “Ollie-”

  “Why does she still have a key, Ford?”

  “I-”

  “Has she had one this entire time?” She pulls out a t-shirt from her bag. “Has she been using it?”

  The accusation stuns me.

  Ollie tugs the gray Nintendo shirt on and continues to attack, “Have I really just been the rebound girl this whole goddamn time?”

  “N-”

  “Just some…thing for you to sleep with until she was ready to use her key again?”

  “No-”

  “Until she was ready to just let herself back into your life again? Until she came to her senses and realized how amazing you really are, which is something I knew after just five fucking minutes with you! It didn’t take me over a decade to appreciate that!”

  Her mouth increases in speed barely giving me a moment to catch up.

  “Was I your ego boost? Was I just your favorite toy in the city while she was waiting here at home? Was I some sick twisted reminder to you that you actually are a decent human being who deserved love? Did you ever even love me?”

  Anger surpasses all rational responses, “Are you seriously fucking asking me that question? Are you honest to God standing in my goddamn bedroom knowing what that woman put me through and accusing me of cheating on you?”

  Her own fury flares ferociously. “Are you honest to God standing in your goddamn bedroom telling me you magically forgot she had a key?”

  “Yes!”

  “How?!” Ollie shouts. “How is that fucking possible? Did she give you back the apartment key?”

  “Yeah, it was on the counter top.”

  “And at no point at seeing it did you ever stop and wonder about your house key? The place you actually loved and lived? Are you honestly telling me during all these months, you never once thought about the fact she had a fucking key?! That maybe you should get the locks changed! Or maybe Ford, just fucking maybe…you knew she had a key, you let her keep the key because you knew she would come back. That part of you wanted her to come crawling back. That part of you…hoped she would. So you could be together again. So you could have the perfect country life with cows and chickens and turkeys and eighteen babies like you always pictured you one day would!” Ollie snatches up her shoulder bag. “I’m going to get Princess Pinky.”

  She storms by and I reach out for her. “Ollie-”

  “Don’t Ford,” the tears sticking to her tone are unmistakable. “Just…don’t.”

  Ollie vacates the room leaving me in a reeling mess.

  Is she right? Did some tiny part of me expect for Carol Ann to come back here? To try to make things work? Did some teeny tiny part of me actually hope she would? Why? Because it’s so fucking familiar? Because we’ve done it for so long? Because it’s so…routine? Why didn’t I get my key back sooner? Why didn’t I change the locks?

  Further frustrated with my own stupidity, I dart out of my room, down the stairs, prepared to run out after her except another surprise greets me at the door.

  Mama’s look of unhappiness causes me to cringe. “Runt…why’s my future daughter in law a bawling mess?”

  The chance to explain is ruined as quickly as it was before.

  My mother’s eyes narrow and her plate filled hands start shaking. “The devil is alive…”

  “Mama,” my voice tries to steady itself.

  “Ford Bradley Shaw, there’s about to be dust in the wind if your ass doesn’t explain to me right the hell now why that insult to God’s green earth is standing next to your kitchen.”

  I start to answer when her tangent continues.

  “Did she stay here last night?”

  My mouth twitches again.

  “Did she interrupt this morning?”

  “I-”

  “Because I swear Runt I will-”

  “Mama!” My voice booms.

  It successfully snaps her out of the hate filled ramble.

  When our eyes lock, I question, “With all due respect, why are you here?”

  “Big Foot and Blake were placing bets on when you and Ollie would be out of bed based on an apparent ass kicking threat that was made along with a public display of affection that would make the average sinner look like a saint.”

  “Who’s phrasing?”

  “Mrs. Mueller. Apparently, she witnessed you two going at it in your truck at a stop light. Needless to say she wanted it known Jesus does not approve of your behavior.”

  The memory kicks the corner of my lip upward until an undesired scoff shoves it back down.

  Mama points a harsh finger at her. “You are trespassin’ and contrary to the boys’ belief, I shoot twice as well as their Pop. And I swear on my Daddy’s grave I will not miss you.”

  Carol Ann’s gasp causes me to encourage my mother to exit. “Look, I need to talk to her. Can you…Can
you go convince Ollie to stay? She went to get Princess Pinky.”

  Mama hums her disapproval and shoves the plate at me. “I’m not a miracle worker, but we’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank me by recommending I dig an eight-foot grave for what the devil dragged in.”

  “They bury people at six feet,” Carol Ann snips.