by Cleo Page
It was just past five a.m. and the sun was peeking its head up over the horizon, casting a soft, warm light over the acres and acres of fields that were stretched out before us. No kidding it will be a few minutes before we reached the house. I could barely see it off in the distance, miles down the road that led in from the entrance to the property. “It’s beautiful,” I marveled aloud.
My first impression of the farm, as picturesque as it was, was about to be handily trumped by what I was going to see next. I heard it first. A low rumbling that was carrying over to the car on the morning breeze. I scanned the distance from left to right and felt my jaw go just a little slack when I reached the source of the powerful thundering. About a mile ahead of us and to the right, in a rich, deep green pasture, were three horses running full out. All three horses were a dark chestnut brown and you could see their muscles bulge as their coats shimmered from the morning light. Even more striking was that it appeared a large dog was actually controlling the pace and direction of the run. A very large dog. Wolf-like, really, and without a doubt every bit as majestic, possibly even more so than the horses themselves.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of the animals. It was incredible. The synchronicity and grace of their movements together with the immense amount of raw power was captivating. As one moved, they all moved. And so very, very fast. I actually felt myself getting inexplicably emotional just from seeing this brief display. I felt privileged. And awash with a peacefulness that I don’t know that I had ever felt before. Funny as it may sound, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. “This is what Randall was talking about.”
That was when Quinn finally piped up again. He almost sounded a bit taken aback. “Randall told you about how he runs the horses?”
I was still drinking in the amazing visuals of the pack of animals rounding a corner and making their way back toward the direction of the house. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. “He did. He said he had a very unique way of training the horses. That he used dogs to run them. Is that odd that he would mention such a thing?”
“Dogs. Right. Of course. Hmm . . . No. No, not at all. I just hadn’t realized to what degree he had shared with you the nature of the farm. He’s not generally so forthright with discussing the techniques we use here at R.H., but I wouldn’t say it was odd that he told you.”
“Well, he was right. He said that seeing the animals run was quite a moving experience. I really couldn’t have imagined anything as powerful as what I just saw. I am in awe.”
“It is indeed a spectacle that one never tires of.”
We drove for a few more minutes, in silence once again, and finally reached our destination. As the car pulled to a stop, I could see past the house a ways to what looked like one of many stable areas. Milling about, still breathing hard, were the three horses I had just witnessed in full sprint only moments before. Turning my attention to the house, I did a bit of a double take. I certainly must have been off in la-la land to not have noticed the ridiculously beautiful house that was in front of me. It was the kind of house that you wouldn’t just see in a magazine—it would be the reason the magazine existed in the first place. It was gorgeous.
We exited the vehicle and Quinn motioned toward the front door. “Just ring the bell. I’m certain Mr. Hemming will be along promptly.”
“Thanks, Quinn. And thank you for taking the time to pick me up and bring me here.”
“Not at all, Ms. Lyall.” Quinn got back in the car and drove off, making his way down another stretch of road that led from the main house—the main house!—to what looked to be another set of residences that were smaller, but every bit as lovely.
Before going to the door, I paused to take a deep breath and give my surroundings another visual sweep. Everything was so immaculately landscaped. It was all perfect. All of it. Nothing, and I mean nothing was out of place. Not a stone, not a leaf. It was as though I had been dropped off into the setting of a real-life fairy tale. Which was just fine by me. I’ve always been a fan of happily ever after.
It was time to call on my cowboy.
I stepped to the immense, solid wood door and rang the chime. Not more than twenty seconds had passed before I heard the latch turn. As the door slowly swung open, I felt a little surge of adrenaline send a tingle through the pit of my stomach. The sun was positioned behind the house now and was throwing its bright morning light through what must have been a whole hell of a lot of windows, because as the door finished its wide arc to being fully open, Randall was standing there backlit as though he was sent from the blue sky above. It was so bright, he was very nearly just a silhouette. One that was every bit as majestic and flawlessly sculpted as a classic Roman statue. I swear I heard angels sing—well, in my head, anyway.
“Connor.”
“Randall.”
That was all we could get out of our mouths before we reached for each other and found our mouths sealed tight by our first kiss. And kiss we did. Passionately, but delicately. Like the kiss of lovers who have been apart for far too long and are consumed by the joy of being in each other’s presence once again. We pulled apart slightly, neither of us wanting to break our full body contact, and looked serenely at each other. Randall spoke again first, “Shall we go inside?”
“My goodness. Yes.”
Reluctantly, we let go of our embrace. As our arms slid to our sides, we both reached to hold on to the other’s hand. Clearly neither of us wanted to be completely without touching the other. We walked hand in hand into the foyer of the house and Randall kicked shut the front door with a little flick of his heel. I smiled. “You’re just too cool for school, aren’t you?”
“Heh. Actually, at the moment, I’m pretty hot. I just got in from running some horses. I saw the car coming up the drive and made my way back to the house. I waited for you before I went to freshen up so you wouldn’t be standing outside wondering if Quinn brought you to the right place.”
“Hmm . . . Yeah, Quinn. Real laugh riot, that one.”
“It’s true. He’s a pretty intense fellow, but he always gets the job done.”
“Well, he got me here, so I’ll give him that.”
“See? Dependable fellow. Anyway, come with me. I don’t want to be any further away from you than I have to be.”
Randall proceeded to lead me up a grand staircase, down a hallway that had more doors than I think there are in the whole of my apartment building, and finally into what appeared to be the master bedroom.
“Now, Ms. Lyall.” Randall took a playful tone, adding a little more south to his sexy drawl. “I don’t mean to be fresh by bringing you straight to my bedroom, but my powder room is right through that door over there. I just wouldn’t feel right having you sitting all alone a-way downstairs after having just arrived.”
I played right along with him and brought out my inner southern belle. “Oh, a pure and pristine lady such as myself would never get the wrong idea from such a fine gentlemen.”
We both laughed at our little detour to the southern states. “Now, if you’ll excuse me for just a few moments. I’ll go clean up and do my best to make myself worthy of the company of such a beautiful lady.”
“Why, of course, sir,” I said, as he turned and went off into the powder room to shower. I did my best to play that one cool, but I know I blushed when he called me a beautiful lady. To be clear, I am no shrinking violet in any way, shape, or form. In fact, I had always felt great about myself. Who I am. How I look. Hearing such a compliment come from Randall made the words so real though. They had a weight and sincerity to them that made it feel like it was the very first time they had ever been uttered—and they were spoken just for me.
About ten minutes passed by in the blink of an eye as I sat on the edge of Randall’s bed and reveled in the peaceful calm that had come over me. There was something about this place that felt very comfortable. Like I was meant to be there. As I was thinking about the multitude of reasons why I might be feeling that way, my pea
ceful zen state got absolutely obliterated and replaced by a lusty firestorm when Randall returned from the powder room wearing only a plush, white towel wrapped around his waist. Immediately, I could feel the warmth spread inside of me as the area between my thighs took on more wetness than the Hoover Dam. I squirmed just slightly and sat up a little straighter, jutting my bosom forward enough that it would have been impossible to not notice my hardened nipples poking at the fabric of my fitted blouse. “Sorry, don’t mind me,” he said. “I’m not used to having someone here. I forgot to bring a change of clothes into the powder room with me. Just gimme a sec to grab something and I’ll go get dressed.”
“Wait!” What? Did I just say that out loud? Parts of me that were not my brain were obviously driving the speech bus at the moment. I really had no plan here, but I had to concede that I was in agreement with the blurt-y part of me that got Randall to stick around in that towel longer. My god, it was like looking at the embodiment of perfection.
“Wait? Okay. What am I waiting for?” he said. He genuinely sounded a little confused as to what I wanted him to wait for. That made two of us. This was definitely an on-the-fly decision making process.
I thought for a second or two and figured I had already dipped my toe in the pool, I may as well jump in. “Well,” I said, “I’m not sure yet. Maybe you could come over here and we can figure it out together.”
“Now, Connor. Don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t come out here like this to try and surreptitiously instigate some hanky-panky.” He quickly added, “Not that I hadn’t thought about it, of course, or that I don’t want to, but I don’t want you to think that’s all I asked you here for.”
“That’s not what I think at all. I can tell there’s something happening here. Something more. I’m, what some people would call, a pretty savvy broad.” I smiled a sweet smile at Randall that let him know I meant what I was saying.
“Well, I did get that impression. That you were a savvy broad and all,” he said with a little grin.
“Now, as it stands, you’re still over there and I’m still over here. You wouldn’t want to make me sad now, would you? Leaving me here all by my lonesome?”
“Indeed, I would not care to do that, Ms. Lyall. Not one bit.” Randall started to make his way toward me.
A few steps later, when he was standing directly in front of me, I reached my hand out and placed my palm flat on his stomach before he had a chance to turn and sit down next to me. “You stay there, mister.” I slowly traced the deep lines between each and every one of his abdominal muscles with the tips of my fingers. I could see the towel that was wrapped around him start to rise as I continued my attention by running both my hands down along his obliques and under the deep v-shaped cleft of muscle where his lower abs met his hips. “Now would be a good time to kiss me,” I said.
Randall lowered himself onto his knees in front of me, his stomach against the edge of the bed with my legs on either side of him. He delicately brushed a lock of my hair from my forehead and brought his hands to my face. His long, strong fingers wrapped all the way behind my neck as he held my cheeks, one in each hand. “I meant what I said earlier, Connor. You are a stunning woman.”
I closed my eyes as Randall leaned in and I felt the softness of his lips just barely touch mine. A small, tender kiss. Then, again, only this time a little more intensely. The next kiss found his tongue brushing my lips, and in an instant we were deeply, passionately exploring each other’s mouths. The intensity of our make-out session continued to build and soon Randall had deviated from my mouth and began to kiss across my cheek to my ear and down my neck. He had moved his hands to my sides now, the palms of his hands fitting just below the soft angles where the sides of my generous breasts met my rib cage.
He continued kissing my skin, moving now from the side of my neck, back to the middle and then down my chest to the top of my cleavage. He traced the top of the deep crevasse between my breasts with his tongue as he brought his thumbs up from underneath them and slowly brushed my still hardened nipples. I had started this fine endeavor, but he was most definitely happy to keep it going.
“Lean back, Connor,” Randall said. I listened and did exactly as instructed without any conscious thought. I don’t know if I was expecting him to crawl up onto the bed beside me to continue our smoochfest or what, but that certainly wasn’t what he did. Instead of moving forward, he began to journey down my body, kissing me through the fabric of my top. Running his hands right along either side of me at the same pace that he made his way ever downward.
He arrived at my waist and did not hesitate. While he brought his hands down to the outside of my knees, he continued kissing me through my clothing, only now I could feel the pressure of his lips through the material of my skirt instead of my shirt.
His chin landed first. As Randall kissed the top of my soft mound, his chin connected with my clit with just enough pressure to make my body jolt stiff. “My god, Randall. If this is just the opening act, I don’t know if I’ll be able to get through the whole show.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage just fine. I’ll be sure to help you through it.”
“If you say so. You seem like a trustworthy cowboy.” I heard one of Randall’s trademark chuckles, and then in one smooth motion he moved his hands up the outside of my thighs, hooked onto my panties, leaned back to gently help guide my legs together, and slid the drenched bit of satin and lace—very pretty, of course—down the length of my legs and off my body. “Well, now,” I said, “that was pretty darn smooth.”
“I’m more than just a pretty face, Ms. Lyall.” I laughed at Randall’s quip. Hot and funny, I thought to myself.
My laughter trailed off as Randall positioned my legs just as they had been a moment before—spread wide to either side of him—only now sans panties. The cool morning air against my wetness tickled and brought my attention straight back to the desire between my legs. The coolness was short-lived, however, as Randall moved his head back to where he was a moment ago. Hovering right above my pussy with his lips on my barely covered mound, I could feel his hot breath move past my soaked petals with each exhalation.
“You’re making me crazy, big boy,” I said as I rolled my head back and to the side.
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Randall declared, and proceeded to move himself down ever so slightly.
The anticipation of Randall laying his tongue on me was consuming me. I was beginning to writhe just from the idea of it. “Yes, Randall. Please.” He didn’t make me wait long, thankfully. A second or two passed that felt like an eternity, and then Randall brought the full width of his tongue down flat on my glistening nub. “God, Randall. Fuck!” I moaned as he slowly moved his whole head in an upward motion, bringing his tongue along with it. He repeated the motion again, but this time starting his ascent from just a little bit lower. Again and again he did this until he had finally worked his way down far enough that he would start his upward trajectory from the very bottom of my delicate folds.
On his next swipe, Randall changed things up and instead pressed his tongue forward between my slick lips. I had been caught in the rhythm of the first movement, so when the tip of his tongue broke through and started pressuring my opening, it was all I could do to keep from reflexively thrusting the full heft of my lower half right into Randall’s beautiful face.
Pulling his head back after that first tease of lingual penetration, Randall peeked up at me and marveled, “My god, woman. You taste incredible.” Then he lowered his head again and got straight back to business. This time he didn’t stop with just a hint of pressure, but pressed his tongue into my welcoming tunnel as far as he could, making sure to curl the tip skyward, and then slowly pull it back out. It felt like his tongue got deeper and deeper with each pass into me.
“Don’t stop, Randall!” I instructed him as I reached down to rub my wonderfully engorged and fully sensitized clitoris while Randall fucked my pussy with his tongue at an increasing pace. His tongu
e was amazing and reached depths of me that I didn’t think a tongue could get to, but I certainly wasn’t complaining. Randall reached his right hand up to my left breast and began to gently pinch and roll my nipple through my shirt as I brought my left arm over his right and held his head tight to me. The pressure was mounting quickly now and my whole body was beginning its movement to release. As my entire body began to tense up, so went my pussy, clenching ever tighter around Randall’s tongue, which was now probing me so deeply, I wasn’t even sure how it was possible. “Randall! Fuck! I’m going to come! Make me come on your face, Randall!”
At my last imperative, Randall brought his right hand back away from my breast and planted both of his strong hands firmly on my hips. There was plenty to hang on to, and Randall used all of it to lift my ass just slightly from the bed to get an even better angle at the pussy he was currently ravaging with his magic tongue. I started rubbing my button even more frantically as I closed in on the pinnacle of my pleasure. “Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!” I cried out as the whole world fell away and the waves of my orgasm began to crash through me.
I could feel my juices spilling out of me as my pussy spasmed over and over again. Some into Randall’s mouth and some dripping past his chin and down over my asshole, tickling as it went by and adding yet another level to what was happening. I dug my nails into the back of Randall’s neck as I rose and fell repeatedly. Being the good cowboy he is, Randall kept tight to me—for well longer than eight seconds, I might add—as my back arched and my feet pushed me up from the bed, bucking like a wild mare. I had come many times in my life, but never, never, like this.