The Stars in the Sky (Giving You ... #2) (27 page)

"How you doin' with our little buddy? Okay?"

I nodded.

"Gonna titty fuck you then bend you over."

"Yes," I gasped.

"No anal though. We'll need to work up to that."

"Whatever you say," I gasped, again.

He stood before me, and then leaned over and put his cock between my breasts. I squeezed them together with my arms, unable to touch him, unable to feel him, my hands tied together with the reins still, and he let out a groan.

"Fuck yeah, baby," he growled, as he went faster and faster between my breasts. His cock hit my mouth and I opened it, to lick the tip, to let him in as he rubbed himself against me up and down, the vibrator in me pulsing.

And then, after a few more thrusts, he stepped away, turned me around, still bound, held my hands over my head, bent me over the blanket on the hay, popped out the vibrator, spread my knees, and thrust in.

There was no other way to describe it—he was banging me in the tack room.

After thrusting hard for a while, he slowed his pace, snaking a finger down to my clit. "I could go on, but I think I'll let you come now."

He rubbed me on the outside of my pussy, while filling me from within, and the tension built up, and oh, oh, oh, finally, finally, a release. I screamed, my body vibrating, my pussy vibrating, my hips raised and pressed against him, riding out the biggest orgasm in the history of the planet. It tilted the galaxies.

I saw stars.

But he didn't let go, and another one was on its heels and holy shit, I came again, not as big but sweet and beautiful, and I screamed again.

After all this time, after this wait, after all the tension that we felt over the past two weeks, having him inside me was so heavenly, hitting the right parts, repeatedly, over and over, as he fucked me against the hay.

Fucking brilliant.

He didn't last long, slippery from my juices and the lube, and hard for days. He increased his thrusting into me at a serious, marked pace, all the feelings, all the nerves tingling, and then he released in a huge shudder, collapsing into my back, pushing me into the blanket.

We breathed together, his flat belly going into my butt, his chest on my back, his mouth on my neck.

After a bit, he pulled out and ran his hands down my sides.

Then he untied my wrists, massaging them gently. And then he untied my ankles, doing the same. And then he gathered me, naked, into his lap as he sat down on the hay, my arms wrapped around him, my legs across his lap. I snuggled into his neck and kissed it, knocking his hat off again.

"That wasn't all that kinky, Will."

He smiled. "I know. I was just breaking you in. That was only the first round."

Equal

WILL STOOD NAKED IN my room in the bunkhouse, his toned torso glistening from the warmth of a summer's day and the activities from earlier, his hands tied to the top bunk, his cock hard, a satisfied growl emanating from his throat.

To rewind.

After the trussed chicken routine in the tack room, we both felt much more relaxed than we had been for two weeks. I also felt really close to him. We’d made it through our initial attraction, the questioning because of our beliefs, the passion of getting together, but also the reevaluation of whether we should be together. It felt like we had shown each other ourselves and both of us liked the other. Loved the other. It felt like we were unafraid to be who we really were with each other, because we trusted that the other one would accept us for who we are. Will didn't care that I cussed at him all the time or got mad at him for his politics. He wasn't going to change them for me, but he also didn't make me change for him. And despite neither of us asking the other to change, both of us had changed for the other.

As silent as he was, he had a way of showing me that he had the biggest heart of anyone I had ever met. He didn't brag about it, he barely talked about what he did, but his actions spoke volumes.

Oh, and he took care of my body like no one ever had before.

I had sat, nude, snuggled in his lap on the hay bale, tracing his arms, tracing his side, tracing his face with my fingertips. He put his chin on the top of my head and said, "God, you're spectacular. You're the whole thing, Marie. The whole thing."

This just made me snuggle into him more, which was barely possible. I pressed my eyes shut to keep any tears from forming.

"I love you too," I whispered, and he squeezed me tight.

I heard his heartbeat against my ear, felt his arms around me, and clung to him, my ark, for a long time. I had never felt safer with another person. After we’d settled down from the intensity of our sex, I kissed him, long and wet, then I climbed up, and started getting dressed, stepping into my panties and pulling them up, then my jeans. He watched me for a moment, then arose to get dressed himself.

As I slid my bra straps up my arms, I informed him, "You know, I have a kinky side too."

He let out a chuckle and grabbed his jeans, putting them on.

"Yeah? You gonna show me?"

I buttoned up my shirt and smoothed out my hair. "What I need to figure out is how much
I
can push
you
?"

He leaned over, hands buttoning his fly, and kissed me gently. "Pretty far, I'd say."

"I bought you a present," I told him slyly.

"Yeah?" He pulled on his t-shirt.

"A sexual present." He got his head through the neck hole of his shirt and stopped, an eyebrow raised.

"Now I'm really interested."

I smiled at him. "It's in my room."

He nodded and looked thoughtful.

We finished getting dressed. Will hung up the reins, I folded the blanket and grabbed the items he had bought, and together, we put the tack room back together. Then, hand in hand, carrying the blanket and bag and faux fur, we strolled over to the bunkhouse.

"We should move you in with me," he mused, as he glanced around my room with all of the bunk beds, "’specially now that we gotta week off before the next set of kids come."

My stomach got all nervous and tingly and butterfly-ey. Moving in with Will. Letting go of my studio in Santa Barbara. Commuting to my master's program. All of it. Stomach freaking out. I aimed for cool, but probably failed miserably. "We're gonna do this?"

"You don't wanna?"

I let out my breath. It was a big step, but yeah, I wanted to stay with him. Forever. So, I smiled, and said bravely, with as much nonchalance as I could muster, "Fine by me." Then I thought of something. "We didn't get to christen this room."

He leaned over and spoke low in my ear. "No one’s around."

God, he always could make me shiver. Then I looked at him and smiled. "Okay. Do you want to get cleaned up first?"

"I'll go get a washcloth. We can shower after." He purloined one of mine, went down the hall, and came back with it, dampened. "Strip," he ordered.

I smiled at him. "Not so fast, Mister. This is my turf. I'm in charge now." That eyebrow of his got raised, with amusement. "This is the way you're going to try out being a feminist, Will. Let me try something on you that I think you've never done before. Equal play, bub. If you don't like it, fine. We'll stop," and I opened up the brown package and took out the tiny, purple plastic toy, putting it in his hand.

Chuckling, he said, "A butt plug?"

"Have you ever used one?"

"Sure." Interesting.

"On you?"

He looked taken aback. "Uh, no."

"This one is for you."

He looked at me incredulously. Then he burst out laughing, the big, full-on male laugh that I’d only heard a few times.

I pushed him in the chest. Hmm. Yum. His chest. "Try it. You're sexually adventuresome. You’re open in bed. Try it. No one has to know. This one is supposed to be for guys."

He shoved his hands in his pockets, scuffed his boots on the floor, and looked up at the ceiling.

I kept going. "I'd never been tied up before like that. No one had ever tried to
not
give me an orgasm before. This isn't going to suddenly make you not you, it's just an experi—"

"Shit. Okay," he interrupted.

"Okay?"

"Yeah. Just don't fuckin' emasculate me."

I looked him straight in the eye. "That will never happen. This is the type of feminism where you get a blow job, which I'll admit is kind of strange, but it's because I want to do it, not because you're telling me to do it."

"Darlin'?"

"Yes?"

"Sign me up."

But I was serious about this issue. Will had said that he wasn't a feminist, but he never did anything to make me feel lesser than him. He was just all dude, all man, all guy, and he liked to drive. I think he just had a problem with the label, but not the concept. I felt like I had plenty of say around him. Sex and politics could get messy, and Will and I lived in that messy world, and I didn't know if we would ever leave it, or indeed, agree on everything. But I didn't care anymore. He was a loving, caring soul, and generous and gentle. The label that he liked didn't matter, just as the labels I liked didn't matter.

Well, they mattered less to me than they did before.

What this meant was simple: I wanted the chance to be in charge. I knew what I liked, sexually, and I let him push me on all fronts and I liked it when he took control. It was fucking hot. But now I wanted the chance to push him, to see how he would take it.

"Strip, cowboy," I ordered.

"Shit, is it gonna be like that?" he muttered. But he said it with a smile and started taking off his boots.

"Yep. Now, gorgeous."

His shoes shucked off, his shirt, gone, his pants a distant memory, he stood before me, all brawny guy, and my own personal sexual playground.

God, this was fun.

"I want to tie you up."

He snorted. "Seriously?"

"Yep," I said, and I pulled out a cotton, woven belt of mine, with rings for a closure, from the chest of drawers.

"Now how ya gonna do that, darlin'?" he asked, teasing me.

"Hands together." And he put his wrists together in front of him. I wrapped the belt around his wrists, and then fastened it to the top bunk behind his head. "You okay?" I asked.

"I think so, yeah," he said. "This is fucking weird."

Using the washcloth he’d dampened, I cleaned him off, which had the added bonus of making him fully aroused. I washed him and stroked him.

All clean and wet, I licked the tip of his cock, and he let out a groan. I let my lips go all over the place, tonguing his balls, licking the entire length, getting his taste in my mouth. I played with him, teasing him. His hands over his head, he leaned away from them and toward me, letting me love him up.

But then I took the lube out of my back pocket, and he looked down at me, heated, but leery.

"If you don't like it, you don't have to do it, and I'll never tell a soul."

He nodded.

I reached between his legs, with my fingers, and explored. When I got to the right spot with my finger, he hissed at me, but didn't object. I put even more lube on my hand and played with him, while I sucked on his cock, and he moaned in pleasure.

Then I got out his little toy, lubed it up, and carefully reached around and inserted it.

"
Fuck
," he said loudly.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "More than."

"It feel good?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Different sensation. Fucking hell."

"Okay, darlin’, here we go for reals," I said, and I started sucking on him in earnest. I kept going and going, using my hands, using my tongue, using my lips, using my throat, until he came, shuddering, into my mouth, and collapsed, leaning against the restraints, my shoulders holding him up.

I carefully removed the plug and wiped my hands off on the washcloth. Then I stood up and untied him.

And then he grabbed me in the biggest hug I’d ever received from him, his eyes gratified, his voice low, saying, "That was phenomenal, babe. I’ve never come so hard. Fuck, I love you."

We got him dressed again and lay down on my bunk for a while, just holding each other.

And then he helped me pack up and move into his house for real.