by Dark Angel
“We'll let Nathan run everything.”
“Vincent,” I say, giving him what I hope is a warning look. I’m going for mildly threatening, but the smile Vincent gives tells me I’ve missed the mark.
“But, Isadora, I'm sure he's more than capable of running all three nations. He'll just persuade everyone to do exactly as he says.”
I don’t miss the sarcasm in Vincent’s tone.
“Vincent,” I say, laying a hand on his arm, “I know you and Nathan have never been close. You've never even gotten along. Do you think this can really work? Can the two of you be friends?”
“Well, we're trying. And we do have a common interest.”
Vincent brushes his lips across mine and I almost forget about our conversation, but I’m not entirely happy with the answer to my question.
“Promise that you two will be friends,” I say.
“I promise I'll try,” he says, pulling me closer, “but right now I'd like to know what you were thinking about.”
“Why?” I ask “Did I look worried?”
“Quite the contrary, you looked like you were thinking about something you enjoyed very much.” His eyes fall to my chest. My hard nipples obvious through the fabric of my dress.
“I was thinking about yesterday,” I say, leading us further down the garden path.
“I see,” Vincent says, and I hear just a trace of desire creep into his voice.
“Yes, about the food, about the wine.” I can’t resist teasing him just a little. “About Nathan’s fingers, about your big cock.”
His mouth quirks up at the corner. “You can do more than think about it, you know.”
“Oh, I intend to do much more,” I say, turning to kiss him. “I have some things to attend to, but we’ll follow up on this thread later. After Vincent’s evening jog, perhaps?”
The truth is, getting more involved in policy interest me, in an equal but totally different way than my husbands do. It gives me something to look forward to and make my work more efficient, for sure.
Chapter Thirteen
Vincent
“If he loves her like I do, can I accept that?” I’m talking to myself while I job…but no one can hear me sound crazy.
Everyone needs their quiet time, to get their thoughts together, to take a moment from everything else—all the pressures of the world—and to just escape. Some people write poetry or make music, some people drink—Nathan—but my thing is jogging, and it’s also very healthy.
I jog several miles then stop in the park to catch my bearings. I know that I’m going to see Isadora soon, but there are tensions in me that I don’t want to play out in lust, I want to exert them in my run, shower, then come back to her clean and ready. Ready to not be argumentative with Nathan. To accept the way that our marriage is going to be a partnership.
I jog far through the trail of the forest, but I can still see the castle off in the distance. The castle is so large and imposing it seems to be in sight no matter where I am. Bored with my run when I know that I’m going to kiss my beautiful wife, I turn on the trail and go back the way I came.
It’s quiet and the smell of nature surrounding me is delicious. as I approach the garden, slowing my stride to a cooling walk to slow my heart.
"Vincent!” Isadora yelps, her spine straightening as her eyes grow wide. Her eyes roam over the sweat glistening down my t-shirt and bare arms. “You think I would have heard you, as I knew you were jogging, but I got lost in thought and didn’t hear you coming at all.” She reaches for me, but I step back.
“I should go shower,” I tell her.
“No, stay.” She moves closer and grabs my arm, my tired, sore muscle bulging beneath her small fingers. I follow her to the bench and sit down, exhaling an exhausted breath from my jog. Silence fills the air around us, the night still and calm. A firefly flutters about the garden, his bulb flickering like a child flipping a light switch on then off as he keeps playing with it.
I look around at the breathtaking view. The way the valleys drop off, the hills, and not too far off is the pond and the horses.
I take a deep breath and with it comes all the delicious smells of the garden. It’s such a pleasant aroma this time of night. And it’s quiet out here. With all those diplomats, all those busy bodies, all the people who work around here, the castle–even as big as it is–can still be quite noisy.
I just can’t deal sometimes. I don’t think the noise bothers Nathan. Nathan is noise.
I look down at Isadora. Having her out here is so serene. It’s perfect.
“You like it out here?” I ask her.
“Oh sure, why wouldn’t I?”
She looks at my chest, which is fitted in a snug blue shirt, sweat drenching every inch of the gray fabric.
Her poised form is elegant, like an angel statue in the cemetery. Her face is perfect, her bone structure, how her cheekbones are classic strokes along her face. Her lips. I have to kiss her. Right now, there is no waiting.
So I place my hand on her chin and gently turn her to look at me. We kiss softly in the moonlight, and fireflies above her blonde hair portray a glowing halo.
She kicks up her little feet in her perfect shoes.
“Do your feet hurt?” I ask.
“Not really. Do yours?” She points. “You’ve been jogging all day, you even took meetings that way!”
“True. But I’m fine.”
“You don’t smell fine,” she teases.
“I said I’d take a shower!” I say, and we both laugh.
“Maybe take this off,” she says, pulling my blue shirt away from my perfect body.
“Well, someone’s in a frisky mood!” I say, fulfilling her request and pulling my shirt off.
She leans into me as I wrap my arm around her, and she looks up at me and I kiss her. Then she lays across my lap, just splaying out like so. The back of her head rests against my crotch. My cock senses action and starts to get restless. I’m sure she feels it, too, pressing against my jogging pants. These pants offer a lot of room too for my cock and balls to swing freely as I jog, but right now that room is depleting, and I’m so hard I want to pull my pants down and let my cock out into the free night air.
And into her.
She sits up, and her hair is an elegant mess, all over her face, and she slips my jogging pants down so the tip of my happy ready-to-go cock is out.
She looks down at it. “It’s so cute.” She touches the tip and it responds, wondering why its buddies—The Balls—are still in my pants. She obviously wants to play, so take the whole team out.
She draws near so she’s in my crotch, and she glides her tongue over me like a snake would.
“Tease,” I say.
“I’m not done yet.”
I wonder what she’s thinking.
She takes me back into her mouth and glides her sweet lips over my cock tight as a rubber.
“Oh…” My head falls back and my hand gets lost in her hair.
“You smell so damn sexy right now, all covered in sweat,” she says.
Isadora sucks my cock harder and I wanted to shower but if she wants to wash me off, I’m fine with that, too.
“Mmm…” My body shifts on the hard bench. If she’s not careful this could be a too much of a load for her to handle.
I wasn’t planning to make love to her here, but this is a sweet surprise. Of course, we do have all night.
“Oh…” She takes me down under another wave of pleasure. I pull on her hair. I try to not think about her blowing Nathan like this, although I’m sure she does.
She has the smallest mouth, the tightest lips, and I suddenly lose myself, and a stream of hot cum spurts into her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize, because it just goes everywhere, like a soda can that’s been shaken.
“Why?” she asks.
I reach around for a hankie and offer it to her, but she doesn’t need it. She’s licked me clean off of her.
“Because I made
a mess.”
“No,” she leans into me, this naughty smirk on her face, “I made a mess,” she corrects.
“Okay.” I look up at the stars and put myself back in my jogging pants. There’s a dark stain there where some cum hasn’t dried yet.
“Do you feel bare? Like your insides are on the outside?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“That’s what love is.”
“You think so?”
“I do,” she giggles. “You feel all gooey and vulnerable, like the slightest thing, like a raindrop, can puncture you.”
“Sounds scary,” I say.
“Oh no, it’s wonderful.” She gets close to me, and I wrap my arms around her. We’re quiet and happy in the moment, just lingering there and breathing, and it actually starts to rain a little.
“Do you want to go in?” I ask her. “I can’t have my princess catching a cold.”
“No,” she says. Then she stands up and kicks her little shoes off and her bare feet touch the moist, hard cobblestones. “I want to stay. I want to have sex in the rain.”
I watch as the rain falls harder, at a steady rate, to clean everything and make it new. Tomorrow, when the sun touches everything it will all have a brand-new shine.
The rain soaks her white dress, making it cling to her soft little body. She strips it from her body, revealing her soft, creamy skin. Her skin is moist and soft, and I can smell the rain on her.
I stand up and pull her close to me. My cock wants to enjoy the rain and the girl, too.
My fingers explore her. Her skin is so soft and wet and radiant. I kiss her hard and place my hands on her bottom and handle her the way I know she wants me to. She moans as she presses her body against me, and the rain loves us both at the same time. It feels so good on me, washing away the long, hot sticky day from my skin.
We find a spot over in the grass and lie down, our bodies pressing against the wet soil. We fall into each other the way the rain is falling over the garden.
“Oh, Vincent…” she coos, reaching down and sliding my jogging pants further down to my ankles. The rain washes that cum stain away, and it all flows into the dirt and the flowers.
I roll on my back and Isadora gets on top of me.
“I want your cock inside me,” she says. Her hair is wet and plastered to her pretty face, and the rain has washed her makeup off. She’s so naturally pretty it’s almost agonizing how much I want her. She places me inside of her, and I feel the velvet rush of her heat all over me. We kiss really hard, and I sink my fingertips into the soft, moist ground as she starts riding me. Her tits glisten with drops of rain, and I lift my hands, my fingers covered in mud, and smear mud over her tits, tweaking her nipples as I do. She laughs adorably at all of this.
Her hips move in a slow rhythm as I trail mud up her creamy flesh, our lips consuming each other’s. We’re soaked to the bone by the time I come inside of her. She slips to her side, and I hold her so we’re spooning, my arms around her as the rain softly taps our bodies. I kiss her shoulders, and her wet blonde strands are strewn along my face.
We actually drift to sleep for a moment but I pull myself out if it, wanting to get out of here.
I roll around on my back and look at her. There’s nothing prettier than the sight of Isadora sleeping peacefully, and now I’m torn because I don’t want to disturb her.
I look up at the sky. The stars are out now, those clouds that broke that delicious rain upon us have moved on. I bet tomorrow will be nice, maybe a little sweltering after the hard rain has left everything in a bit of condensation. As I think about wine, I start obsessing over the vineyards. I obsess over how everything helps it grow—every bit of weather, no matter how bad, temperamental or calm— it all comes together and helps things grow. I think the same about relationships. There has to be a mix.
I look at Isadora as she starts to wake up. She opens her eyes and looks up at the sky.
“Which do you prefer?” she asks me. “Day or night?”
“Oh…” I have to think about this. “I like my mornings,” I decide. “Everything feels like a new beginning, you know? I like to get up and look out the window and just, I don’t know, breathe the new days in—as cheesy as that sounds.
“That’s not cheesy,” she says. I appreciate her saying that, but I feel like it is. She shuts her eyes again.
“I bet Nathan likes night,” she says. “Marius came into town tonight, and I insisted he greet him along with his motorcade. He needs to be around a man that doesn’t make him crazy for a minute.” She laughs.
I look at her perfect little feet and for some reason,
“What about you?” I ask, not wanting to think about anything but Isadora.
“Me?”
“Yes, which do you prefer? Day or night?”
She must think about this.
“Well, it’s definitely not the afternoon…” she trails off, considering her answer. I see the bottle of French wine someone had placed by the bench and partake in a sip. It’s sweet and light, nothing too overbearing. An excellent surprise for a delightful garden romp…which is exactly what the plan must have been. I like it. “In the afternoon, you know how certain things sneak up on you? Like I don’t know, sad thoughts. You know how you said mornings are like a new beginning? That’s true, and at night is when you can relax and, well, do other things if you feel so inclined. I like the mystery of night. I like fireflies. I like the things you can see in the dark.”
“Oh, Isadora, that was great,” I appraise, taking another sip of wine. “I like you. And you clearly like night.”
Nathan is like night, I realize. Nathan is mysterious. Nathan is not the worst thing that’s ever happened in my life, and we both have exceptionally good taste in wives, so I can find myself growing accustomed to him.
She touches the side of my face like she always does, with those gentle slim fingers of hers, and I shut my eyes. It’s no longer raining, but the fresh scent clings to the air, offering a sweet hug around us.
“Do you think if we’re quiet enough, we can hear things growing from the ground after the rain?” Isadora says, narrowing her eyes but letting a wide grin spread across her face. She laughs. I love how she can be so falsely serious and break up any anxieties I might have.
“You can probably hear insects crawling,” I say.
I don’t know if this scares her or what, but she stands up and walks back to the bench. I watch her as she puts her dress back on, but it’s wrinkled and has a mud stain.
“Oh, your dress,” I say.
“It’s fine. It’s honestly nice to get messy,” she smiles. “I really like what we did.” She’s struggling with the zipper so I go over to help her. I zip it up, careful of her hair, holding it up so it falls graciously around her face. I zip it all the way up, and there’s something disappointing about putting clothes on her instead of taking them off—no matter how pretty she looks.
She turns around after I let of her hair go and it falls down over her breasts, and she laughs.
“What?” I ask. “Do I have something on my face?” I wipe at whatever might be there off.
“Yes,” she says. “Your hand.”
“Ah.”
I drop my hand and look at her.
“I’m a mess,” she says. “That’s why I was laughing.”
“I could give you a bath.”
“Okay.”
I start walking toward the castle when she tugs on my arm.
“No, no.” She points to the outside bath, in the middle of the garden over by the gazebo.
“What?” I’m amazed and very excited all at the same time.
“Why not?”
She walks over to the old porcelain bathtub, and I go over to the where the hose is hooked up to the golden faucet and turn it on; it drips around the hose onto the ground, lovely cool water hitting my palm.
I drag the hose over to the tub, and it snakes along in the tall grass to where she is once again taking off that dress.<
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“Here, sweetheart,” I say, offering my hand. I take her dress and carefully place it on the bench so it doesn’t get any messier than it is. I look at her, and I’m offered the gorgeous view of her backside. The moonlight hits her skin just right. I pick up the hose and douse her with it, and she cackles out loud and covers her breasts.
“It’s cold,” she says.
“What did you expect?”
“Maybe if we both got in, we could warm it up with our body temperatures,” she suggests innocently.
“That’s a thought,” I say, already taking off my jogging pants. “And we all know I do need a bath.”
“Yes, you’re disgusting,” she laughs. She picks up the hose and starts to fill the tub. I can feel the cool mist coming up from the water as it starts to fill to the rim. I get the bottle of wine and place it by the tub, considering what’s missing that could perfect this glorious night.
“We only need candles,” I suggest.
“We don’t need candles, Vincent,” she says. “We have the fireflies and the stars.” She lifts her little foot and places it in the tub, and I get in with her. The tub is small; it’s nothing fancy, but there’s just room enough for the both of us to squeeze in to it.
I laugh as she wriggles her ass between my thighs, the swell of her cheek brushing against my cock.
“Now, now behave yourself, princess,” I say. “Mind your manners.”
“You mind your manners,” she says. “You know what? We don’t have any soap.”
“It’s okay.”
“What will we use to get clean?” she asks.
I reach down for the wine bottle and watch her face explode with surprise as I douse some wine into the tub.
“Vincent, how shamelessly decadent” she says with wide eyes, watching a red cloud form in the clean, crisp, cold water.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” she cackles.
“Why not?” I say. Our bodies have been soaked by rain, the purest cold water from the hose, and now wine.
I splash it on my face.
“Is wine good for your pores?” she wonders.