BIG MAN

by Penny Wylder

  We lapse into silence for a while, the only sound the crackling of the fire. Then Grant sets up another marshmallow, and we go back to playfully bickering about the proper way to roast them and which one of us is committing a cardinal sin by not putting the right amount of chocolate on the graham crackers first (clearly him, because you need two bars of chocolate to make a proper s’more).

  In retribution, or maybe just to prove his point, he smears some of the chocolate across my face, and then it’s war. I rub some into his beard, and he tackles me across the tent. Pins me underneath him, both of us panting with effort as I struggle to get free.

  “No use,” he tells me, those dark eyes of his going serious now. “You’re all mine now, City Girl. There’s no escaping.”

  I wriggle beneath him, arching up to press my hips against his. I can already see the bulge forming in his jeans, impossible to satiate as he is. That’s fine by me. I can’t get enough of him either. “How terrible,” I say, grinning. “Trapped by a Country Man.”

  “You’re enjoying this too much,” he scolds.

  I smirk. “Not my fault you make getting caught so enjoyable.”

  “What can I say? I like capturing city girls.” He reaches down to grab the hem of my T-shirt and tugs it up my body slowly. “Though I must say, this outfit screams country to me. Are you forgetting yourself down here on the farm?”

  “Maybe.” I raise my hips, lifting my body off the ground a little to balance on my shoulders and let him slide my shirt up higher, up above my bra, the lace peeking out now. “Or maybe I’m just remembering myself. Told you I was born as country as you are, didn’t I?”

  “You did mention that.” His dark eyes catch mine, a smirk in them. “I might even be starting to believe you.”

  I huff in faux indignation, even as he tugs my shirt the rest of the way off and tosses it down beside us. With my hands freed, while his are occupied, I reach up for his shirt too. I tug it off and run my fingertips over the stark outline of his muscles, tracing his pecs, his flat abs, then the deep V at his groin, pointing straight down to where I really want to reach.

  Before I can slip my hands down his jeans, though, he catches my wrists and lifts my hands again. He folds both of my wrists easily into one hand and pins it over my head, clicking his tongue as he leans down to kiss my neck, my chest, his tongue flicking into the hollow at the base of my clavicle.

  “Not so fast, impatient girl,” he murmurs. “I plan to take my time tonight.”

  He reaches under me and unhooks my bra, then pushes that aside, his mouth still on my chest. He kisses down the center of my chest, then trails his tongue along the underside of each of my breasts, one after the other. His other hand kneads my opposite breast, his palms rough against my soft, smooth skin. My nipples start to harden, especially when he wraps his mouth around one of my breasts and trails the flat plane of his tongue across my nipple in one long, slow lick. Then he pulls back a little to circle the tip of his tongue around my areola, teasing, and I gasp faintly, arching up into him. He moans against my skin, and I sigh with pleasure at the vibrations that reverberate throughout my whole body.

  He turns to minister to my other nipple, doing the same thing, tonguing along the top and bottom of my breast before he circles in on my nipple, sucking it hard into his mouth and gently rolling it between his teeth until I gasp and twist under him. With his hand, he rolls my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, keeping it hard, tugging gently, not enough to hurt, just enough to make the pleasant sensation fire through all my nerves, and I moan loudly.

  Only when both of my nipples are rock hard and aching from the attention does he begin to trail his tongue down my abs. He kisses, nips and licks his way to my navel, then dips his tongue inside, sending a shock of sensation all the way down to my toes.

  My legs drop flat under him as he reaches down to undo my jean shorts with one hand, the other still holding my wrists pinned. I struggle slightly against him, wanting to reach for his jeans too, wanting to reciprocate, but he peers up at me, those dark eyes commanding.

  “Relax, Sasha,” he murmurs. “You’ll get your turn.” Then he smirks and shoves my shorts down my hips, bending down to kiss the sensitive skin between my navel and the top of my mound, grinning at the way that makes me shiver. “Right now, it’s my turn to drive you wild.”

  I force myself to take his advice. To lie back and let myself go. He releases my wrists, and I don’t let myself reach for him. I only push myself up a little, high enough to look down and watch him as he peels off my shorts, then kisses my mound through the thin fabric of my panties. His lips are white-hot against my skin, and my whole body fires with want. I want—no, I need him. But at the same time, I don’t want this moment to end.

  So I force my usual impatient nature to quiet.

  Grant bites my inner thigh gently, just hard enough that I jump and gasp again. He loves making me do that, the bastard.

  “Sensitive City Girl,” he points out.

  “Only when you make me that way, Country Man,” I murmur.

  This time when he bites down, it’s through the fabric of my panties. Then he leans his head up, draws back just far enough to keep the fabric between his teeth, and pushes himself backwards, tugging my panties with them, using only his teeth.

  I catch my breath. Fuck, he’s hot. Especially now, looking up at me with blatant, sheer desire in his gaze.

  I lift my hips up enough to let him pull my panties down, and he inhales sharply as he does, drawing them down to my knees and leaving them tangled there.

  “Wet for me already,” he points out, grinning. “This is becoming a habit.”

  You’re becoming a habit, I almost say. But I swallow those words at the last moment, think better of it. Because he isn’t a habit. He can’t be.

  His tongue distracts me from any more thoughts along those lines, though, when he licks his way up my inner thigh, making my whole body go tense and loose at once. He trails his tongue up slowly, first up one thigh then the other, wet and hot against my skin. When he lifts his head to smile up at me, a dark, mischievous grin on his face, my skin feels extra cool in the evening air, the coolness compounding with the heat of his hands on my stomach, tracing my thighs. The contrast is delicious, even more so when he bends to lick directly across my mound, pressing hard enough with his tongue that I can feel the pressure all the way into my clit.

  He pushes my thighs apart in one swift motion, his hands digging into the plump flesh of my thighs, holding me down as he bends down to trail his tongue along my outer lips, one after the other.

  “Fuck you taste incredible,” he murmurs in between licks, before he parts my lips with two fingers and runs his tongue up my slit, all the way from the back to the front, licking up my juices which have already gathered there.

  My head falls back against the soft blankets, my eyes fixed on the billowing ceiling of the tent as I moan, long and loud.

  “I love this sexy, tight pussy,” Grant whispers, and his breath feels even hotter against my wet skin. He leans in to press his tongue between my lips again, pressing right against the entrance of my pussy, and I groan, my hips rising of their own accord. With one hand, he presses them back down to the blanket, and with one last push, his tongue slides into my pussy.

  Fuck. He feels incredible. My vision goes blurry, hazy, as I lose focus, distracted by him. He tongues each of my walls at a time, one after the other, as he inches his tongue deeper. When he’s speared his tongue as deep inside me as it will go, he curls it up and drags it down my front inner wall, a practiced motion that makes my clit throb and my pussy feel tight and wet with desire.

  He flattens his tongue to a blade and draws it out of my pussy, up over my clit, licking it once, hard. My hips jerk from the sudden flood of sensation, and I can’t control the sounds that are coming out of me anymore, the low, desperate moans.

  He keeps going, alternating between delving his tongue into my pussy and then drawing it out to l
ick my clit over and over, until it’s driving me wild, my whole body shaking and my hips bucking against his mouth.

  Then, out of nowhere, he sits up.

  I gasp, this time in protest, and reach for his head, trying to pull him back.

  He smirks and catches both my hands. Kisses my palms one after another as he watches me. “You want me to keep going?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I pant.

  “How badly?” he asks.

  I scowl, frustrated. “I…”

  “Beg me to make you come, Sasha. Beg me to lick you until you can’t stand it, until you scream so loud you wake up everyone for miles around.”

  Damn him. I press my lips together, frustrated.

  He lifts an eyebrow, waiting.

  I blow out a sharp breath of air. “Please, Grant.”

  “Please what?” he taunts, tilting his head with a smirk.

  “Please… Make me come.”

  “How do you want me to make you come, Sasha?”

  “I want you…” I lick my lips, swallowing hard. “I want you to lick my pussy. I want you to tongue me until I can’t stand it.”

  His smile widens. “Your wish is my command.” He ducks between my thighs again, and I bury my hands in his hair as he pushes his tongue straight into my pussy once more, circling it inside me.

  When he pulls his tongue out to pay attention to my clit, I pant louder, my breath coming hard and fast as I arch up to press my pussy closer to his mouth. At the same time I tighten my fists in his hair, pull him against me as his tongue laps across me again and again, over and over, until I can’t stand it, the pressure is building so high it’ll drive me mad.

  “I’m going to come,” I cry out faintly, trying to catch my breath. “Fuck, Grant, don’t stop, I’m going to come…”

  He circles his tongue right over my clit, sensing exactly what I need. That motion is enough to send me over the edge, and I scream with pleasure as the orgasm hits me. It rockets through my body, echoing all the way down to my toes and my fingertips, flooding my brain with ecstasy.

  My vision turns to blurry sparks, and my body shakes from the force of it, my pussy convulsing.

  Grant, for his part, doesn’t stop. He just leans back a little and slides one finger into me, even as my pussy clamps down tightly around him. He curls it inside me, drags his finger along my front wall with practiced motions, finding my G-spot easily. He adds a second finger, then leans down to tongue my clit again at the same time, and I cry out once more, my voice harsh from overuse.

  Fuck, I think, or maybe scream, I’m not sure. His touch keeps the sensation going, keeps my body hovering right there on the brink, as I brace for an aftershock. But with his fingers inside me, pressing against my G-spot, stroking in and out, filling me, and his tongue still lashing across my clit again and again, unrelenting, the second orgasm hits harder than the first. My hips buck, and I can hardly catch my breath, my whole body shaking hard.

  He finally draws his fingers out of me, only when my hips sag back against the blanket and my eyes drift closed, the sheer force of that orgasm making me relaxed, stunned. He sits upright and I peer down to watch him licking his fingers clean, one at a time, eyes focused on mine.

  But if anything, all those orgasms did was make me hungrier for him. Hungry to have him fill me completely, in the way only his cock can do.

  I reach up for him eagerly, and he falls across me on all fours as I fumble with the button of his jeans. He’s rock hard underneath, and it only takes a moment for me to shove his jeans down, his boxers after them, until his cock springs free.

  Now he’s the impatient one.

  “Fuck, Sasha.” He grabs my legs and spreads them wide, kneeling between. I arch up to wrap my thighs around his waist, as he lines up his cock with my soaking wet entrance. “You are so. Fucking. Perfect,” he murmurs as he stares into my eyes, slowly, slowly pressing into me.

  He feels incredible. My pussy is already sensitive from the double orgasm, and the feeling of his cock spreading me, stretching me to my limit, drives me wild. I tighten my legs around his waist with every inch he pushes into me, and when he’s finally completely inside me, I wrap my arms around his shoulders too, hold him there inside me for a moment, just savoring the feeling of his cock, his body, him, here with me.

  “Fuck you feel so fucking incredible,” he murmurs.

  “I fucking love it when you fill me up,” I gasp. “I can’t get enough…”

  “Good.” Those dark eyes latch onto mine. I could stare into his eyes forever and never get tired of this look he gives me. Like he cannot drink me in long enough. Like he’s almost scared of what he feels for me.

  I know the feeling. I am too.

  “Neither can I,” he admits. Then he’s drawing back, out of me, and I gasp a little in protest. But it doesn’t last long—he thrusts back inside me a moment later, and I buck up against him, eager, insatiable.

  Grant starts to rock back and forth, thrusting into me slowly at first, but building momentum. I meet him thrust for thrust, arcing my hips to push up against his with every moment. Before long, we’re both gasping, clinging to one another, my nails digging into his back and his hands so tight on my hip I know he’ll leave marks tomorrow. I don’t care. I want those marks. Evidence of how much he wants me—how much I cause him to lose control.

  Before long we’re both thrusting as hard as we can, fucking hard and fast, my whole body alight with pleasure, on fire for him. Sensitive as I am, it doesn’t take me long to build back up to the edge, my clit throbbing with the force of the last two orgasms still.

  Grant unhooks my legs from around him, flings them up over his shoulders and keeps fucking me, his cock dragging right over my G-spot now, the head rubbing along it until I cry aloud and feel my toes curl, my nerves catching fire with another orgasm.

  “Fuck. Sasha… I’m…”

  Grant is lost now, driving into me, all animal now. Before long, I sense him nearing his peak, and I tighten my pussy as much as I can, clenching hard around him. He moans aloud when I do that, and I feel his cock tense and jump inside me as he comes, squirting deep inside me, coating my insides with his hot cum. It feels white hot inside my pussy, like a balm after all the hard fucking.

  When he pulls out of me, we both laugh softly at the hot rush that trickles down my leg, puddling on the blanket beneath me.

  Grant collapses beside me, still breathing hard. “That…”

  “Was incredible,” I finish, curling against him. He’s slick with sweat, but then, so am I. Our skin cools together in the night air, and we lie there beside the slowly dying fire, soaked in our sweat, the scent of sex mingling with the smells of the outdoors and the fields and the wild, until we’re both shivering. Only then, reluctantly, do we sit up and reach for our clothes.

  But Grant stops me before I tug mine back on, a spark in his eyes. “Why redress?” he asks with a shrug. “If we need to go shower anyway.”

  I laugh. Then lift my eyebrows, watching him. Why, indeed?

  He douses the fire, and then, with our clothes tucked under our arms, hand-in-hand, we pad back across the fields. This time we’re not just barefoot, we’re completely naked. But there’s something so freeing about it. About feeling the night air on my skin, the moonlight illuminating us, the bright stars overhead our only witnesses.

  I could get used to this, I think as we reach the farmhouse again, and Grant opens the door for me, bows me inside with a wink, ever the gentleman.

  That’s the dangerous part. I could very, very easily get used to this.

  10

  Grant Werther

  What is this girl doing to me? I’ve never felt like this before.

  I thought I was going to go crazy at the Johnsons’ party, watching her strutting around in that sexy, tight little dress. And when I won the bet after we played pool, it took every ounce of self-restraint I had not to bend her over the table and claim her right there, onlookers be damned.

  We’ve spen
t the last two days since the party doing nothing but fucking. Well, working on the house, in between. But those hours tend to fly past in a daze, with half my mind focused on the next time I’ll get to strip her down and take my time making her come again and again. I barely even notice the work I’m doing, because I’m so focused on thinking about her tight little ass, her sexy breasts and her perfect pussy. The way her voice goes throaty and sultry when she’s trying to turn me on (which really doesn’t take much). The way she gasps when she comes, or how her pussy always contracts around my cock when her orgasm hits with my dick balls-deep inside her.

  Fuck. I’m getting hard now just thinking about it, and I still have to finish this fence before nightfall. We’re running short on days now. Short on days and time. Something I don’t want to think about.

  So I just keep focusing on the work. The work and Sasha’s perfect body.

  Not to mention our conversations. Over dinner every night, she tells me about everything she accomplished during the day, her eyes bright with excitement. She doesn’t even notice it. She doesn’t hear the way she’s enjoying this, getting down and dirty, putting some callouses on those smooth, sexy city hands of hers.

  At night, we lie side-by-side out in the yard, counting stars—or ignoring the stars when we lose ourselves in each other more often than not. But just last night, after we fucked hard in the grass, covering ourselves in dew, I pulled her onto my chest to watch the night sky, and she sighed, cuddling into me.

  “I feel more relaxed right now than I have in years,” she whispered, and I held her tighter. Willed her to hear her own words. To realize what they mean.

  But she doesn’t.

  This morning over breakfast, she popped in with a cheery smile, talking about what a nice vacation this has been. A great break from the work she’s going to have to go back and slog through as soon as we’re done. She went on a twenty minute rant about work, and I didn’t say a word, just buried my face in my cereal bowl, because how am I supposed to respond to that?