CHAPTER SIX
Amy
I was beyond excited for my weekend with Brock. We’d had several smaller dates, dinner here and there, a quick lunch on my way back from seeing dad but this was something special. A whole weekend just the two of us. The fact that he invited me meant a great deal, especially when I learned he’d not visited his family home in quite some time. Somehow, I knew this was some sort of ‘facing his inner demons’ thing when he explained it had something to do with his parent’s death. That in itself – showed trust in our relationship. What more could I ask for?
I felt a little guilty for not inviting him to my own house, but maybe with time I would. I kept him from seeing where I lived, always meeting him somewhere else. I wasn’t ashamed of our house. It was a very nice house. Beautiful even, with pale blue shutters, a flagstone walkway, and pretty white trim along the roof. It was my stepmother I didn’t want him to meet. I didn’t want Penelope anywhere near someone I cared about. I could handle Penelope all right, but why open that can of worms if you don’t have to? She could be manipulative and nasty too. I didn’t expect a seasoned fireman like Brock would be intimidated, but why put him in that situation? Maybe it was me who was intimidated.
Brock picked me up at four at the Thirsty Turtle in a shining black Escalade with all the bells and whistles. Jane loved trucks. All trucks. I silently wished she were here to see us in this one—it would have blown her socks off. Unfortunately, it was Jane’s day off.
When he saw me, he gave a little wave. The driver’s side window lowered, and he broke out into a wide grin, tilting his head up so I could kiss him before going around to the other side of the car. I could climbed in. “You look amazing,” he growled reaching across my body to grab the seat belt. His knuckles tickled my bare wrist and currents of electricity zapped through me. I’d been thinking about this all day and barely slept the night before.
The silver buckled clicked firmly in place, he started the engine and we were off.
Although excited, I was extremely comfortable with Brock already. We hadn’t know each other long, but it didn’t seem to matter. Not to me anyway. It felt—right between us. Was it just the fantasies in my head? Would I wake up one day stunned? Wishing I’d taken my time? Regretful? Maybe, but right now I didn’t care. I sunk deeply into the leather seats, loving the way they hugged my ass. Hugged me. They were warm, the temperature-controlled air perfect, and I thought about how wonderful this weekend was as well. How no one, not even Jane—would know where I was—or what we would be doing. Was I crazy? I’d never gone away with a man in my life, especially without an escape plan. What if he…? Oh yeah, I certainly hoped so.
I sidled up closer, so close I could smell his aftershave, feel the heat of his skin through my clothes. Simply watching those strong hands on the wheel, the way the chorded muscles flexed and moved when he shifted, made all sorts of fantasies play through my head. Imagining his fingers between my legs had me squirming to keep my panties out of my crotch. I focused out the window trying to distract myself. We had a long ride ahead of us.
The scenery was kind of bland, Just trees with a few scattered houses and barns here, and there. At some point I actually fell asleep.
When I woke I knew we were getting closer. Brock told me it was deep inside the countryside and away from civilization. As the forests became dense, the more distant he seemed to be as well. I noticed his hands were white knuckled, his jaw tight. I don’t even think he knew what he was doing and it was like he’d forgotten me beside him because when I opened my mouth he actually took a second to react. “Penny for your thoughts,” I said, trying to get him to open up to me.
“Sorry,” he grumbled. “Just work stuff. Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about.” He patted me on the knee.
“Try me. I’m a good listener.”
He grunted, obviously contemplated what to say next. “No worries, little girl. Let’s just have fun, shall we?”
“But if I can help…”
“Amy, it’s none of your…” He stopped, probably knowing it was the last thing he should say to me.
“Oh really,” I said, trying to hide my hurt. “So that’s how it is. Well then, let’s just get everything out in the open before we go any further, Mr. Hot Shot.”
He shot me a puzzled look but then laughed. “Mr. Hot shot?”
“I’m sure in your position you’re used to ordering people around.”
The smile fell. “I…”
“It’s not your fault. We just don’t know each other well enough yet and I’d like to remedy that situation right now, Mr. Fitzgerald.”
“Isn’t that what this weekend is all about?”
I didn’t answer right away.
He grunted again and I could tell he wasn’t used to people questioning his motives. “Fair enough. Get whatever it is off your pr….your chest.”
I was quiet for several minutes, realizing poor Brock had struck a nerve with me. I needed to make things clear from the get go though. Honesty was always better. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like such a bitch.”
He laughed. “Honey, if that’s being a bitch I can take a whole lot more.” That made me feel a whole lot better.
His warm hand covered mine and I squeezed trying to loosen up a little. I had a sore spot when it came to my age. Add my four foot eleven height and people constantly made assumptions about me. AT fourteen people assumed I was more interested in music than science. At sixteen it was boys and at twenty they figured I didn’t have a brain in my head. I needed to explain that but not take my frustration out on him. So far, I wasn’t doing very well. “Okay, here goes. All my life, people haven’t taken my seriously because of my age.”
He gave me a sidelong glance, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Your whole life…? ” I tried not to let his comment bother me, but I could tell he wasn’t getting it so I dove right in, giving him the abbreviated version, without barely taking a breath.
“Okay, listen, while I sort of got off on the whole daddy’s little girl routine, you may as well know a few things about me. I’m not some starry eyed little bimbo with marbles for brains and… And I don’t sleep around.”
“I never said you did.”
“Right. Well… I’m smarter than most people think. I’m fluent in Latin, French, Spanish, and Chinese. I have a BS in literary education, one in astronomy, that took me an extra six months and believe me it was no picnic, a masters in International and Comparative Contexts, well, I will soon as I finish my last year of graduate school, and I’m not too bad with a pistol either. I don’t drink, smoke, gamble or…”
“Whoa! You what? And you have what? How old were you when you finished high school?”
“Fourteen, why?”
“Holy shit. I haven’t robbed the cradle. I’ve kidnapped Einstein’s protégé.”
Now I was the one laughing. Usually when I told people that, they were taken aback or defensive as if they couldn’t measure up. Especially men. “You aren’t put off by a woman with brains?”
“Of course not.”
I let out a breath, congratulating myself on putting it all out there without backing down.
Brock chuckled. A deep sexy rumble down low in his throat that had my core clenching and unclenching. I could listen to that voice all day.
“All this time I was wondering if we would have anything to talk about,” he told me. His hand caressed my thigh and I slid my ass forward, glancing at the bulge in his pants.
“I can talk about anything,” I said sweetly. “And on any subject. The moon, the stars, what’s going on in science…” I grabbed his penis through his pants making him groan. “I hope there won’t be much talking, though. Well, not in the beginning anyway.” My hand stroked along the denim and I heard his breath hitch, felt the car swerve slightly. “I just wanted you to know I’m not a dumb chic.”
“I never thought that,” he said. His fingers crawled up my leg until they settled on my crotch, a thumb hooked my waistband. I pushed against his hand encouragingly. “Brains and beauty. How can a guy get so lucky?”
Sliding forward, I unsnapped my jeans and then pulled down the zipper. Thick fingers brushed my soft curls sending electricity through my veins. “Mmmm.” I opened my legs but it didn’t really work so I made a tiny hop attempting to slide my jeans down.
“It’s so hot down there,” he rasped. “Are you wet for me, little girl?”
“Mmmm hmm.” Another hop and a wriggle. Now my pants were at my knees. Pushing them down further, I took them off. Brock laughed at my audacity. “Fuck yeah. Spread em baby.” Rocking my hips backward, my legs stretched wider and then I threw one leg over the back of the seat, displaying myself wide. He grunted as he watched me. I saw him glance in his rearview mirror and his eyes just about jumped out of his head. He licked his lips and swerved to the right a bit.
A blunt finger dove inside my core. First one and then two. My breath caught and so did his, a deep craving of release both of us shared and it was a good thing I wasn’t driving. If we were going to make it the rest of the way home without hitting anything we had to be careful. When he found the bundle of nerves between my legs, I bucked inside the seatbelt. “Come for me, baby. Christen this sweet ride of mine.” I bucked off the seat, my body rising with deep need, matching his rhythm.
“Oh baby, you feel so good. Come for me. Come, Amy Lynn. Come!” I could see his face in the rearview mirror. Hot slick desire exploded in his expression but then it was just a blur. I was so focused on the sensations, his fingers sheathed inside my pussy, the heat of his fine-sculpted arm which wrapped across my torso, heating my skin, all I could do was feel.
I felt the welcome rise of lust simmering in my veins and my hips tilted back, desperate for more. Faster. Deeper. He stopped and I almost cried. I whimpered with the loss of him when he put his finger in his mouth, sucked it greedily with his tongue. I enjoyed the sexy grin that spread across his face. The tent inside his trousers told me he was getting off on this and then some. My sounds. The way I was hopping all over the seat. Suddenly, my body slid over. “Whoops.” We almost hit a road sign but he quickly made corrections. I was so hot, we could have driven off the road for all I cared just as long as he finger-fucked me. “Sorry about that, babe.” A little protest slipped out but he remedied the situation.
“Oh god.” My appetite for him was off the charts. I wanted him inside me but I wanted this too. As an orgasm seized my brain, my labia puffed with fresh blood, my pussy drenched with juices that dripped along my crack. It lasted for awhile, gripping me so hard I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood. My core clenched into spasms and I almost yanked the seatbelt off. “Fuuuuck!” I keened.
Brock laughed. “Be glad to. Later.” Glancing down I tried to undo his pants but my arms were too short to reach. I wanted to taste him. To control that beautiful beast inside my mouth, make him come and say my name but I couldn’t. I smelled heady and raw, even to my own nose. When I finally finished climaxing, it was with thundering squeals of delight punctuated by calling Brock’s name over and over. After my body stopped pulsing, I pulled my pants back up, the sensations slowly lessening to a soft glow, inch by delicious inch. I was panting so hard I gulped at the oxygen, thirsty for more. Much more. “That…that was amazing. I’m still throbbing, even now but I…I want to return the favor..”
Brock laughed. “Honey, we have all weekend.”
I laughed. “We don’t want to get into an accident either,” I said.
Thirty minutes later, we drove up the horseshoe shaped driveway leading to Brock’s cottage. Or what he called a cottage. To me it was more like a mansion. “This is it,” he said. “My home away from home.”
“Wow, it’s huge. How many rooms do you have?”
“You mean bedrooms or other kinds of rooms?”
“Both,” I said, wondering what he meant. I finished pulling up my jeans and snapped them in place.
“Hmm, Not sure, but I think there are about half a dozen bedrooms including a billiard room, library, the den where my father’s trophies are kept, formal dining room and a home theatre in the basement plus various others I’ve probably forgotten about. I haven’t been here in awhile.” He breathed in the country air. “You know, everything seems bigger when you’re a kid.”
As I stared up at the roof, I felt a little uncomfortable. Now I knew he was rich or at least his parents were. I was glad I’d kept my house a secret. I would have been embarrassed about the humble three bedroom Cape Cod my parents had been so proud of once upon a time.
We parked the car before a large timber-framed house sporting five full dormers on a steep hillside overlooking a lake. Two smaller houses stood flanked on both sides.
“The smaller ones are for the help,” Brock explained before I could even ask. The help?
We got out of the car and walked around to the back of the house, the heels of my cowgirl boots clicking on the knobby pine flooring of the wrap-a-round porch. I didn’t exactly know how to dress or what to expect so I tried to go country. I’d gone with jeans and a baby blue button-up eyelet blouse that showed off my cleavage, my long hair braided neatly down my back.
“You’ll want to see this,” Brock said, leading me around the backside of the house. I could hear rushing water, but didn’t know where it was coming from. We placed our hands on the pine railing looking down. Several log cabins dotted the hillside. It was a pretty good drop from where we stood— perched on the side of a hill with hardly anyone within shouting distance but down below…Well, breathtaking didn’t begin to describe what I was looking at. A crystal blue lake sparkling in the sunshine wound through the forest as far as the eye could see. “Look straight down,” Brock said pointing below us. I had to lean forward a bit to get a good view and I got a bit dizzy. It was worth it though. A waterfall in all its glory fell in huge white puffs of foam right below our feet.
“What do you think?” Brock asked. “Gorgeous,” I breathed thinking this was by far the most beautiful place on earth. The sun was setting in a beautiful blue pink canvas above a spectacular valley painted just for us it seemed. Brock pointed over the horizon.. “That’s Intercourse over there. And in that direction, the mall. Ya know, I actually forgot how beautiful this is.”
“It really is,” I said as he took me in his arms. I molded to his hard comforting chest. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“You’re most welcome. I’m glad I get to share it with you.” Tipping my chin to meet his gaze he gave me a quick kiss and then turned me around so I could gaze out at the sunset.
“You haven’t been back since your parents died. Is that right?”
“Maybe once a year for awhile but then not at all. I haven’t been here in maybe six or seven years I think.”
“Really?” I asked, astonished. “Why is that? It’s so…beautiful. I’d want to live here all the time if it were me.” Already I was thinking about how wonderful it would be to sit on the veranda, reading or working on my thesis. I’d have a glass of wine by my side or maybe sweet tea.
“I don’t know,” Brock said. “Memories I’d rather not deal with I suppose.”
He didn’t elaborate and I didn’t ask. I was too absorbed in the beauty of the sky, the warmth of his arms around my body, my head upon his chest, the heat between us. He turned me around, tugged me closer slipping his hands below my blouse, My nipples perked below his touch. I loosened his belt buckle and just the top button. Then I slipped my hands in the back of his pants. I wriggled my fingers downwards until I got hold of one ass cheek. His skin was soft. Like butter inside my palm. I had visions in my head, tons of them, always had since I was fourteen. “Wanna make it with a really smart woman?”
He groaned and then unbuttoned my blouse slowly. He pulled it open. Without unclasping my bra, he pulled out my breasts. He licked each nipple one by one. “God your tits are gorgeous,” he murmured. I could feel the length of him against my groin. So hot and hard it made me salivate.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “Mmmm. I like that. Suck harder.”
“I see you’re a woman that knows what she wants and not afraid to ask for it too.”
“I always do.” With long slow precision, I unzipped his fly, slid down the zipper, and the delicious aroma of blood engorged cock filled my nostrils making me heady. When I tugged his brief down, he growled like a wild animal. He was fucking huge! Or was he simply more turned on right now? His briefs looked like they could burst from the beast caught inside them, and I wondered if men could ever get comfortable that way. Perhaps they needed to buy their trousers based on the size of their cocks. I didn’t know but he didn’t look like he was in the mood for questions right now.
My breathing was erratic, my heart racing out of control. Glancing down, I saw a bead of pre-cum on the head of his cock. I palmed the tip, and then put my hand to my mouth licking the delicious juice. Next, I pulled his balls from their nesting place, kneaded them briefly before glancing over his shoulder. “There. I want you there,” I said, pointing to a large wooden-slat Adirondack chair. I pushed him into it, which surprised even me. His eyes popped wide—a slow grin spread across his face. “Okay, little girl. You call the shots.” I leaned forward, breathed into his ear. “You like me to ask for what I want? This is what I want, Mr. Fireman. That long thick hose of yours. Inside my pussy…at long last.”
“Are you sure?”
“Uh huh.” I dove in for a kiss, letting my tongue swirl delicately around his palate, the rich aroma that was Brock sharpening all my senses with deep physical yearning. I didn’t think of another thought. Not the lovely surroundings. Not the fact we lived in separate worlds. Nothing. All I wanted was this man. This moment. This primal physical ache. My skin felt like it was melting . The flames in his eyes crawled up my body searing me with their heat.
Slanted sharply, the chair was perfect. I’d read these sort of seats got a man’s penis to a woman’s g-spot—without any extra movements or change in positions. It meant considerable less foreplay and higher orgasms. That is what I wanted, wasn’t it? Wasn’t being with a man better than a vibrator? I did have some pretty sophisticated toys after all. I giggled lightly, thinking of Brock’s cock with a battery in it. Instead of lowering myself over him, it would jump out of his pants and just plunge into me. I giggled again and he gave me a funny look but then smiled. No doubt he thought my laughs were of the nervous nature. If only he knew...
His handsome face stared up at me, grinning wickedly, his dick pointing north and I grinned right back as I ripped open his shirt, ran my tongue along his salted skin.
He was holding me by the hips, preventing penetration. I tried to take a breath but it came out like a little squeak. “I can’t wait, Brock. You’ve been driving me crazy this whole long trip. I need us to fuck.”
“But we haven’t…”
“I don’t care.” I knew what he was going to say, that he was big and I was small, that it was my first time and he didn’t want to hurt me. He’d want to stretch me some more. Maybe wait a while longer. More foreplay and all that. He was such a good man. Kind and gentle. But I didn’t want gentle. I’d prepared myself and I was as ready. I wanted rough. To be impaled by him. Bury him inside so deeply that there was no room for anything else.
Seated on the flat arms of the chair, I slipped off my shoes humming a strip tease song in my head. Then I stood and pulled down my jeans. Stepping out of them, Brock’s eyes riveted to my crotch, the pupils big and glassy—like marbles in the sun. As I took off my bra, nipples erect in the cool air, his tongue licked his lips.
“God those tits are going to be the death of me,” he growled reaching forward. His hands were so big and tanned, the size of my ass cheek actually. I gave him a warning look, held up a finger to make him stop. When I took off my panties and threw them over the railing, he barked out a laugh. “We’ll never find those, you know,” he said.
I shrugged. “Oh well.” I’d actually packed a spare pair in my duffle. I giggled, loving the free feeling of my nakedness and my own boldness about throwing away my panties. It was something I’d always wanted to do and never felt sexier than when Brock’s eyes drank me in. He did look a little tense though.
“Oh yes. And I’m on the pill, in case you are wondering.”
He nodded, the muscles in his face relaxing. “Then come here you little vixen. Bring that sweet pussy over to me.”
“Not yet.” I stepped away, knowing he was loving this side of me. I was too. His cock grasped between his fist, he stroked himself slowly. The heated look he gave me made the nerves jump along my skin with anticipation.
Breathing heavy, I hovered my body over him, hands bracing the wide wooden slats on the back of the chair, my painfully full breasts dangling above his face. He groaned and reached up, licking lightly at one erect nipple while the fingers of his strong hands grazed up and down my back. Then he kissed me sending a chain reaction of sparks that sizzled right between my legs.
I swung a leg over the chair and straddled him, careful not to lower myself onto that huge semi just yet, taking the heat of his engorged cock against my belly instead. Reaching down, I pressed my palm along his cock sliding down the length of it. Excitement mixed with anxiety shot through my veins. What if he was too big? What if I cried and he thought me a child? My throat nearly closed at the thought. I couldn’t take the humiliation. What if we didn’t fit… together. Was that really a thing? Could a woman be too small to accommodate too big a cock? Even a scrumptiously sexy one like this one? My chest squeezed. Whoa, this is supposed to be fun. No one ever died from having too big a cock inside her vagina. Dick in hand, I tickled my pussy letting the pre-cum slip inside my center and nearly jumped when the head pulsated along my palm.
He was big. Bigger than I’d expected, but then again I had nothing but pictures on the internet to compare.
I wondered if the chair were a mistake. The seat slanted sharply allowing deep penetration. Surely that would hurt. It was so much easier for a man. For a moment I had the ridiculous notion that Brock would get splinters in his ass but then I remembered he still had on his jeans. What the hell was wrong with me?
He sat, grinning as he looked up at me, bare chested with tiny silver hairs curling around his nipples. “Take your time, Amy Lynn,” He said with the most adoring smile he’d ever given me. “We have all weekend and I want you to enjoy yourself. I can wait if you’re not sure.”
He didn’t look like he could wait though. The glean of lust sparkled in his eyes. I half expected him to pull me down on top of him but he didn’t. Fuck! I wanted him so bad but I was scared.
He licked his lips and I got lost in those warm amber eyes of his. Kind eyes. Sexy too. I felt he could see into my soul and I didn’t want to disappoint him.
Sliding his long thick fingers from my hips up my back, a trail of heat skidded across my skin before his arms wrapped around me and he grabbed hold of both breasts squeezing like a fucking vice. I yelped at the pressure.
“Just relax, baby. Take a deep breath.”
I did and he was right. I did relax but not exactly the way I’d expected. He had other talents up his sleeve it seemed. Pulling and twisting at my nipples and then flicking them with his thumb turned out to be exactly what I needed to get me over my fear. It sharpened my desire tenfold. Now I thought, if I don’t fuck him I’ll die! My breath was coming in shallow little pants now. I almost couldn’t speak and when I did—the words came out desperate, my voice horse, like I was some sort of crazed nymphomaniac who hadn’t had sex in five years. “I want you, Brock. I want…this. I want you inside me more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.”
He chuckled. “That’s my girl.”
His hands grasped my hips as I lowered myself over him, letting his cock slide inside me—inch by delicious inch. “Oh, baby, that feels good but…but…I need more.” I saw his nostrils flare, a look of desire warring with patience furrowing his sweaty brow. My breath caught as our bodies joined in one huge impaling spike as he ground me down quickly, burying himself completely.
“Oh!”It caught me by surprise but I was so wet. So ready for him that I only felt a slight twinge of discomfort but only for a moment. I started to move and Brock allowed me to set the pace, holding back his own lust to plunge inside me even harder. Amazingly, it barely hurt and after a few minutes I melted over him like chocolate. I realized with happiness that all my preparation and pre-stretching had actually paid off. Brock didn’t know that though. He held himself back, probably thinking he’d been too rough with me. He wasn’t moving at all. “You okay?” he asked, his face creased with concern.
“Uh huh.” I smiled then I picked up my pace, his cock thrusting upwards as we made our own rhythm. He groaned but he was still holding back, his eyes closed. “Brock.” I was panting now, my senses on overload. “ Brock... Don’t treat me like a doll. Oh god. Oh my…oh…Oh!” I raked my nails along his back riding out the sensation that was slowly taking over every one of my senses.
Encouraged, he lifted and lowered me over his cock, pumping into me faster and faster with horrific violent jerks—burying himself tip to root. He groaned and grunted, his body pulsing, palms moist along my hips.
His shoulders were broad and firm. They fit my hands perfectly while his cock drilled up like a piston, taking me to the edge along with him, until the world started to spin, reality dropping out. “Oh…my….god!” If this was sex I was living on another planet all these years.
There was no one else in the world except this. Except us. Two bodies becoming one. Every sense was on fire, sweet sensation controlling every fiber of my brain. I’d come before with vibrators but never like this. Never with a body so giving that I wanted to shove my cunt into his mouth, to mount him in front of everybody and in front of nobody. We were outdoors for Christ’s sake! For all I knew, the neighbors next door would hear us or worse, they could show up any minute. I actually didn’t care though. In fact, it made it more exciting.
Brock’s chest glistened with sweat. He smelled of pine and soap and I wanted so much to kiss him again but I couldn’t stay still long enough to reach his lips. Too busy fucking is brains out. “Oh god,” Something seemed to grab me by the teeth. My voice shrilled as the highest orgasm I’d never known in my young life started to rise. And rise. And rise. I felt myself orbiting into a climax.
He wasn’t done with me. His cock kept pumping, grunting with the effort. “So…fucking…wet…for me.” I could feel bruising on my hips and I had the sensation of being on a merry go round. A wild slippery merry go round that would spin me off if I didn’t hold on too tight. My nipples tingled as he reached up and pinched, making me moan louder than I already was. I was so close and then I wasn’t. I was…there. The climax made me scream, hit me full force, and then my body started to shudder. As my heart started to slow, I realized it was over but Brock refused to slack off. He pushed up harder, this time digging his finger nails into my ass.
I felt sensitive now. I struggled to get free. To rise off his lap but he pulled me back down. “Almost. Almost, baby girl.” He was grunting and breathless, his own release mounting into what sounded like a magnificent yet endless fury. He went on and on it seemed.
I felt assaulted. Didn’t he know I was a virgin for god’s sake? So sensitive. So damn sensitive. “No. I can’t. I …Oh!” My body betrayed me as another orgasm started to build between my legs, grabbing me with its teeth.
“Fuck! You’re tight as hell.” He demanded more. A sex drive that was off the charts. If what I read was accurate about older men having a lower libido, they didn’t have Brock Fitzgerald in mind. Thick digits fondled my buttocks as he grabbed hold of both cheeks. He held on tight, preventing my escape as he continued his frenzied pace plunging upwards in an unbelievable demand of power over me. He growled and then leaned up so he could alternate between sucking on my nipples and ravaging my lips with that firm muscular tongue of his. The sensation egged me onto newer sharper emotions ,my skin prickling. “I…I’m coming.” I jumped off the cliff, my body spiraling out of control. Only stronger this time. Much stronger!
With a serious determined look, he stared into my eyes, gave several quick thrusts, as if claiming me with his body, and stopped. I fell into his arms, collapsing euphorically.
It felt wonderful and right. With a satisfied smile, Brock leaned back in the chair. Exhaustion stretched across his face, he moved a strand of hair from the side of my mouth. “Remember when you said you were a woman who knew what she wanted? Well, I know what I want too, Amy Lynn. What I want is you.” I leaned down, devouring him in a kiss, our tongues swirling and tasting each other more gently this time. When we broke apart, he said. “Getting pretty chilly out here. Let’s go inside.” I wasn’t cold though. When I looked down, I realized how muscular his thighs were. Besides his large hands, they’d warmed me with their heat.
“All right.” I pulled my jeans on and zipped them back up. When I bent over to pick up my purse, Brock pulled me back onto his lap and kissed me again with such passion I found myself laughing that he still wanted me like that. Then he laughed too.
“I feel like a teenager,” he admitted breaking off the kiss. His voice was loud, full of promise. “Okay, now we can go in.”
***
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw inside the house. The living room was massive, with a large rustic chandelier made of elk antlers and lights that looked like candles upon a circular metal ring. The fireplace took up an entire wall and a huge horn from some sort of animal hung over a stone mantle piece. The furniture wasn’t fancy, but looked extremely comfortable in soft leather, and there was a stuffed black bear in the corner, poised as if to strike. Photographs adorned the walls and shelves, just like Brock’s office, and all sorts of memorabilia like arrowheads, harpoons, and stuffed fish and animal heads were scattered throughout the house. “Wow,” I said. “So this is the travel cottage. This where you grew up?”
“No. This was where my family came for holidays and weekends. Some years we came often and others hardly at all. Depended on how much my father worked.”
He lead me into another room, pointing out different aspects of the log cabin, the hand sawn beams, the custom fireplaces with stones from Iceland, a staircase curved up in a kind of spiraling pattern, the steps made of golden milled logs of knotted pine. It matched the floor and ceiling. Everywhere I looked, felt warm and inviting. I imagined cookies and milled cider, woolen quits and roaring fires, maybe a dog near the hearth. I couldn’t imagine anyone not loving this house. It simply breathed hospitability and took my breath away. Almost as much as Brock had.
“So were you happy here? I mean, you haven’t come in a long time you said. I’m guessing it wasn’t because you work so much.”
He patted the large overstuffed loveseat seat beside him. I sunk into the rich leather and he slid over just a hair, giving me more room. It was more than that though. The fire was gone from his eyes. That look that I so craved a few minutes ago replaced by something else. “No. It wasn’t work that kept me away.”
“Then…?” I knew it might bring up something painful but I had to know.
He swiveled around on the couch so he could look at me, worry lining his forehead. I could see he didn’t want to talk about it, but he was making some effort. I appreciated that. If we were going to have a relationship, I didn’t want any secrets between us.
“There was…an accident,” he finally said.
“The one that claimed your parents?”
“Yeah. When I come here, it’s just…hard.”
But we’re here now. As if answering my unasked question, he went on. “But I’m forty one, you know. And it’s been a long time. I could have sold this place years ago, but I didn’t want to. Truth be known, I actually love it here.”
“It reminds you of your parents though. Is that it?”
“Partly.”
“And yet you brought me here. Today. After all this time.”
“Yeah,” he said chuckling. “I’ve no idea why.”
“Maybe you thought if you could replace that memory with a new one? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much?” He gave me a tight smile that absolutely melted my insides.
“You know for someone so young, you’re a very smart woman.”
I laughed. “Yeah. Maybe that’s why you didn’t throw me out of your office.” I reached for his hand and wrapped my fingers around his palm. It was warm and comfortable and I wanted so bad to be here for him. To be the one he barred his soul to. “Can you talk about it? It might help. It helped me after my mother died.”
“All right. My parents were not…ordinary people. They were amateur explorers although my father would never admit to the amateur part. He loved to travel and we went all over the world. Just the three of us.”
“The only place I’ve ever been with my parents was Disney World.”
Brock uttered a half-hearted chuckle. “Ah, the land of make believe. I tried to talk my dad into Disney once. Know what he told me?” He continued in a false deep voice. “Only a fool waists his time with talking animals and rides that make your ears bleed! Nope, there was no Disney for me to explore. Nothing so tame as that. When we explored a new place we explored it!”
“Sounds exciting.”
“It was, actually. By the time I was eight, we’d been all over the world. My mother did all sorts of research, planned what food we would take, what temperature we had to prepare for, bought our hiking gear…And my father…well, he picked where our next adventure would take us and then he mapped out our route.”
“So where did you go?”
“Everywhere. We explored caves, studied plants under waterfalls, crawled along cliffs or explored ancient ruins.”
“That must have been wonderful.”
“It is…when you’re a kid. But as I got older, I didn’t want to go anymore. The trips grew more rugged. Too rugged for a spoiled teenager whose only interest was playing video games and hanging out with my friends. There would be long periods where all we would see were trees or mountains and there would be nothing to do, no internet, no television, or it would rain nonstop for an entire month. While my friends were discovering girls, I was camped out in a rain forest in Brazil, with gnats and poisonous snakes to keep me company. One time, we had nothing to eat but bison for two weeks! And I hate bison. I missed my friends. I missed being with kids my own age.”
“Did you tell your parents that?”
“Yeah. For awhile they gave in. They let me stay with my grandfather. Well…until he got sick that is.”
“Dad said grandfather’s illness made him re-evaluate his life. That he was going about our trips all wrong. I had no idea what he meant. In my fourteen year old mind, I hoped he was going to take us on a real family vacation for once, with room service and maybe one of those indoor water parks. I got so excited and I knew the holiday break was coming up. I wanted to go skiing like other kids did and I would have loved to go to Disney World. Damn, at that point I’d go anywhere that had running water.”
“I take it, that wasn’t what he had in mind?”
“God, no! He took us to the Arctic. The fucking Arctic! By boat. I grumbled and complained the whole trip. On the third day, I set out in my little dingy, determined to catch some fish because I was sick of eating seal blubber. It was springtime and the ice was breaking off into little ice floes. I saw an opening in the channel so I thought I could squeeze through in order to get to a different fishing spot. I’d seen one of those Intuits the day before doing it, ice fishing only a few yards from our boat. Naturally I’d talked this over with my father and he refused to let me go. He said it was too dangerous. He was right of course but I didn’t know that. I was too stubborn. Deep down, I knew about the dangers but I was a cocky little shit, always angry about something. Always thinking about myself.
“You were fourteen,” I soothed as if that would give him absolution.
“I thought I was a man.”
“So you went anyway?”
“I did and sure enough the ice closed all around my tiny boat squeezing it. God, I was terrified then. It crushed the hull within minutes and I had to jump onto the sea ice before I was crushed too. Then it started to rain, soaking me with ice and snow.
I gasped. Goosebumps rippled over my skin and a wave of dread overcame me. I squeezed Brock’s hand, wondering what kind of monster I was for making him relive this personal horror. “You must have been…so scared.”
“I was. About an hour later, I passed out. My parents saved me but…” He threw up his hands. “Doesn’t matter now. It’s over and they’re dead.” His low dark brows creased in a scowl.
“What happened, Brock?”
He took a deep breath running a hand over the back of his head. “In my father’s haste to reach me, he’d kicked over the kerosene lamp in our boat. Part of the upper deck caught fire. My mother put it out but that was the end of our fuel too. We couldn’t go anywhere and our food was running low. The next two weeks, we waited to be rescued.”
“So I’m confused. I thought they died in the accident.”
“No. My father was diabetic. When I was hurrying that morning to get out on my dingy, I shattered one of his glass insulin bottles. It took an extra nine days to be rescued. By then, my father was dead.”
“And your mother?”
“She died six months later of breast cancer but everyone said it was from a broken heart.” Brock didn’t make eye contact with me, his gaze caught by some framed photograph across the room. I wanted to hold him, tell him everything would be all right, that it wasn’t his fault and he should stop beating himself up over it. “He should have brought more insulin,” I said instead.
He just looked at me as if the idea had never occurred to him. “Maybe.”
“Anyway you were just a kid.”
He was still staring at the photograph and when I caught his eye. He look away quickly and made to rise off the couch but not before I saw that his eyes were moist with tears. “Come on. That’s enough moroseness for one day. Let’s go see what the cook left us in the fridge.”
“The cook?”
“Yeah. He lives next door.”
As I followed him into the informal dining room just off the family room in the back of the house it was as if a light just went off and I immediately felt at home. It had a plain trestle table, six chairs and large windows which let in natural light. So much so—that if felt as if we were outside. Brock opened the massive stainless steel refrigerator and a slight whoosh of air cooled my face. There was everything and anything in there and judging by the fact that Brock hadn’t been here in awhile, I knew it had to be fresh. He took out a tray of cold roast beef, a tin of mashed potatoes, and another container of glazed carrots. “You like beef?” he asked.
“Love it.”
“Great.” He made us both plates and then warmed them in the microwave before setting them down between us. He lifted his chin pointing with his knife. “Look.” With one hand on Brock’s massive shoulder and resisting the urge to kiss him, I peered out the window, past the wrap-around porch, past the railing and the apple trees to a clearing a few feet away where five deer were grazing right below the house. My breath caught in my throat. I’d never seen deer so close before.
“They’ve lived here since I was a kid,” Brock said. “Well…maybe not the same deer but the same family of deer.”
“Oh.” I turned at the loud beeping of the microwave indicating our food was ready.
He gave me a linen napkin that I placed in my lap. Minutes later and with a glass of sparkling white wine, I couldn’t believe how good leftovers could taste. The meat melted in my mouth, the red potatoes flavored in olive oil, garlic and some other herb I couldn’t name and carrots were crisp but not hard. I almost expected a wine steward to appear at my elbow to refresh my drink. I sunk into my chair letting the flavors work their magic on my tongue, feeling relaxed. Very relaxed. I could tell Brock was relaxing too. I didn’t know how many people he’d told the story of what happened to his parents to, but I guessed it wasn’t that many. I was happy he’d told me.
After he rinsed off the dishes and refreshed my wine, he took me by the hand and pulled me to my feet. He’d given me a tour of the house already and I’d marveled at every room, each having been decorated in a charming yet rugged outdoorsy kind of style. “There’s one room I’ve saved for last,” he said breaking into a wide grin that melted my heart. “Come.”
His bedroom. I gave him a shy smile but my heart was racing inside my chest, my body shivering with excitement. “Why, Mr. Fitzgerald, “I said as he pulled me along. “Do you think you can have your way with me, just because you wined and dined my little ass?”
He didn’t answer but gave a half-hearted chuckle as he took my hand in his so he could lead me up the stairs. As we walked into what I assumed was the master bedroom I didn’t know whether I should follow or throw rose petals at his feet. It was not what I expected.
With higher ceilings than the rest of the house, tapestries everywhere below our feet, and a gauzy white curtain that fell in a sort of canopy over the bedspread, the king sized bed reminded me of a Sultan’s. I half expected two men to be fanning us with palm leaves or feeding us grapes while we lay gorging ourselves on fresh cheeses and raw oysters. The walls were covered in tapestries too and a crystal chandelier, the likes of which I’ve never seen in my life, glittered with hundreds of tiny colored lights. It was breathtaking.
Seeing my reaction, Brock smiled. “My mother’s room,” he explained. “The only room my father didn’t tamp down on her wild tendencies for extravagance.” I murmured my agreement as I took it all in. His mother must have been something, a woman who obviously was willing to make sacrifices to be with the man she loved. But roughing it with all this waiting at home for her? It was a far cry from crawling through caves, braving the elements, and climbing the highest mountains. She must have been one complicated woman. Either that or they were very much in love. My heart squeezed thinking of what they’d gone through. I could only imagine what it must have been like to see her husband die before her eyes. And Brock too.
We paused before the bed while Brock undressed me slowly, taking the time to taste, caress, and marvel over my curves every step of his sexy way. His tongue was like velvet, his fingers like feathers and when he removed my bra, it dangled from two fingers as he gave me a wicked grin. “Should I throw this out as well?” he asked glancing at one of the windows.
I giggled. “No. No, it can stay.” I unbuttoned his pants, and then pulled them down roughly, reveling in the glory of his magnificent cock which weeping at the tip. His thighs were like tree trunks, thick and dark and I ran my hands up and down them, feeling the chorded muscles.“Oh god,” I breathed, heat coursing through my core. With one hand cupping his full exploding balls, I stroked him and then dropped to my knees, ready to do more. “No,” he said, stopping me before I could take him into my mouth. “I want to try out the tub.” He pulled up his pants, but didn’t zip them, leaving the belt strap loose and hanging like a long rough tongue down the side of his leg.
“The tub?” I peered toward the back corner of the room where steam already puffed like fog between a half open doorway. Was it a whirlpool tub? One of those hexagon shapes with the little seats on the side? The perfect orgasmic chair for a woman! Next to the Adirondack chair, that is. I loved hot baths, but I’d never had company in one. The hairs around my clit tingled with desire.
Oh yeah. This could get interesting.
Pulling me to my feet, Brock kissed me hard before releasing me and turning me around, my back flush against his chest. I could feel his erection nestled between my hips as he pinched and kneaded both nipples. Endorphins skittered across my skin as visions of what he would do to me danced through my dirty little mind. The heat of the water as it caressed my naked skin. The smoothness of the soap as he washed me from head to toe. The way his seed floated on the bubbles. God that was hot! I could almost get myself off just thinking about it.
I wasn’t sure what he had in mind, but I was breathless with anticipation.
When he flung the door open, it smacked hard against the wall making me jump. He looked at me and chuckled, his face apologetic. Brock was strong. Real strong.
The first thing I saw was a deep marble bathtub with the faucet in the middle. Not a cool wooden Jacuzzi like I’d pictured, but honestly I didn’t care. “I love bubble baths,” I exclaimed, my skin all tingly. Softly, I kissed his neck, his chin, and then reaching on my tippy toes, kissing his full lips, teasing him with my tongue. A hand on his chest, it slid slowly down his deliciously hard body, but before I reached the bulge inside his pants, he grabbed my buttocks fast and pulled me close, assaulting me with his mouth with so much force, I couldn’t breathe. I gasped. “Bathe much?” I giggled.
Brock Fitzgerald knew what he wanted and who was I to deny him? He took my breath away every time he kissed me.
“I love your bubbles,” he said palming each one. Taking one nipple in his mouth, he swirled his tongue around the tip, biting it gently. He rolled the other between thumb and forefinger eliciting a deep primal moan from deep in my throat. “I can’t get enough of you, Amy Lynn.” His breath on fire, he kissed me again, only this time slower like he was savoring a good meal. Then he sat me on the tub. “Don’t move, little girl. Just watch and then I’m going to watch you. Later I’m going to lick your pussy until you come.” He growled into my neck.
“Mmmm,” was all I could say.
He stepped back a few feet and finished undressing—first letting his shirt slide off those glorious pumped shoulders. There was an undershirt beneath and that came off as well revealing a beautiful tattoo of an eagle on his right shoulder and nipples that were hard as dark caramel. I wanted to lick them in the worst way but he kept me at arms reach.
Brock finished undressing. He was all man— from the mysterious Indian tattoo on his beefy left arm—to the hard sculpted six-pack that dipped into the triangle of dark hair just above the tip of his sensational manhood. It was the first time I’d seen him naked from head to toe. His body breathtakingly beautiful and when he stepped out of his boxers revealing that deep-veined hard as a tucking stone cock there was weeping on the head. Just for me.
“Oh god!” His eyes mimicked my smile.
I’d seen naked men before. Maybe not in person, but I’d had a subscription to Playgirl magazine since the age of sixteen. The models were gorgeous and hot, leading me to do things I’d rather not speak of, but they’d never affected me like this. If Brock’s body was simply a dream I was having, I didn’t want to wake up. If it was love, I was in big, big trouble.
How had I been this close to the man and not known how gorgeous he was under his clothes? The entire body of Brock Fitzgerald was magnificent. The first time, it had been dark and during our last lovemaking, I was too close to appreciate what him. I marveled at the firmness of his ass, the contours of his thick powerful thighs, the plumpness of his balls drawn up close to those hard swaying hips. His skin wasn’t white, but it wasn’t olive either, more of an amber color like his eyes. I wanted to lick him all over and then fuck him until we were both too sore to walk. I had a feeling he wanted to do the same. He stepped toward me. Like a god, taking a new fledgling into its flock.
He sat down. Seated on the side of the tub and gripped my hand, kissing it first and then guiding it—sliding my fingers along the inside of my own thigh. “Touch yourself, Amy Lynn.” His voice was strong, masculine, commanding.
As he pushed my fingers toward my core, my face heated, and I shuddered when the tips of my fingers grazed my sex. This was something new, more intimate than even my own nakedness. I’d touched myself in the past. Absolutely. But never in front of someone else. It was…private. Something one did behind closed doors but when he looked at me like that I wanted to please him. His eyes darkened with desire, willing me to do his bidding. “Feel how wet you are, baby. You’re fucking drenched for me.” I leaned into him, loving the way he talked. So dirty and wrong my pussy was already throbbing.
“I want to touch you too.”
He caught my hands. “No. That’s not how the game is played.” He snapped his gaze up and down me, and then dropped to his knees. He pushed my hand between my legs, urging my fingers there. There. Deep into my crevice. When I started to moan, my body going stiff with the beginnings of release, he grabbed my hand, preventing me from coming, and I almost cried with the loss of my own touch.
Taking the moist fingers of my hand, he sucked the tips one by one. “Mmmm, you taste so good.”
Still seated on the tub, he guided me in our sex play. I was aware of how close his face was to my crotch. I urged my hips forward. “Please…”
“Not yet.” On hand on my stomach, he peered up through half lidded eyes, giving me the most devilish smile I’d ever seen. “Now touch those perky tits for me. Play with them. Pull them and pinch them.” My hands slid upwards, cupping my breasts. “You’ll like it, baby. I promise, especially when I do this.”
“Oh.”
He’d licked one finger and plunged it inside, sliding the blunt tip of it up and down my clit. “Oh god. I’m gonna come. ” Steam sizzled along my skin. Sticky juices creamed my inner legs. “Oh my god.” He slipped out of me when my hands stopped to hold his head, urging him toward my pussy, wanting his tongue.
“I like watching a woman pleasure herself,” he said. I cupped my breasts and threw back my head moaning when he resumed between my legs, coasting up and down while directing me with that dirty edgy voice of his. When he found the little bundle of nerves, I thought I would lose my mind, especially when he pulled out right before I came. “What…No!”
He licked a finger and then grabbed me by the hips “Touch your pussy while I watch.” He slid his fist down that beautiful cock and stroking it until it cried a single tear. My eyes popped, fresh juices flooding my core, my nipples growing harder as I tickled my own clit. I wanted him inside me though.
“Please.”
“Not yet, little girl.” He stood me up and turned me around, placing my hands on the tub, my hips tilted upwards. So that’s what he wanted. I was more than happy to oblige and happiness flowed through me. I felt the tip of his cock along my crease, his breath upon my neck. “I want you to come. I want you to scream. Understand?”
I nodded my ascent, pushing toward his manhood. So close. So fucking close. The heat of him felt like a hot poker as it slid downward, hovering just above my entrance. I lifted on my toes, whimpering for more contact.
“Lean down until your arms rest on the tub. And spread your legs more. Yeah. That’s it. God, you’re fucking sexy. Cross your arms crossed.” He slapped me on the ass, sending endorphins mixed with pleasure pain coursing through my body. “You are so fucking gorgeous and you’re mine. All mine.” Holding me by the hips and with no further foreplay, he plunged forward, sinking himself from tip to root.
“Oh!” I wasn’t prepared. Not completely. I felt as if I’d been ripped in two.
“All right, baby. I’ll go slow for a bit.” I felt him move in and out of me, caressing my tender folds as if he had all the time in the world. Gently. Smoothly. With barely any effort. I could tell by his breathing it wasn’t easy. In fact, he sounded like he was holding his breath.
And then it got better. Much better. For me. Every nerve inside my body began shouting for more stimulation. More friction. More everything. An orgasm started at the base of my toes building and building until I couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Harder. Harder Brock. Harder!”
I lifted my hips a little, giving him more depth. He took that as a sign I wanted it faster, his balls slapping against my ass, grunting with the effort as he filled me. I was still sore there, but then I relaxed. I could feel his fingers digging into my hips as he plunged forward from behind, his breath leaving a trail of steam along my skin.
“Say my name, baby.”
“What?”
“Say my name or I’ll stop.” I doubted that would happen but I squeaked out, “Brock,” in the middle of one of his thrusts.
I barely could breath, let alone speak, the searing along my core robbing me of oxygen and I kept losing my grip along the tub.
“Say my name,” he said again. “Fucking call my name, Amy Lynn.”
I screamed and shuddered. “Brock. Brock. Oh god, Brock. Oh!” I panted, my whole body pulsing like live wires as an orgasm grabbed hold and shook me but didn’t let go.
My hands were numb from gripping the tub so tightly and so was one leg. They’d gone completely numb, yet the rest of me was on fire.
His hands tightened around my hips and then slid across my ass. I was rising. Rising into the clouds. Rising over the valley below the house. Rising in sensation so keen, so acute, all I could do was ride out the brilliant emotion until spent. Exhausted.
Brock kept going though. And going and going.
Finally, I felt the loss of his cock as he slid out of me. One brown large hand grabbed hold of the tub and I felt something hot along my hips.
He’d come all over my buttocks covering me in hot pulsing bursts of white cream that dripped between my ass cheeks and slithered between my thighs.
“I told you..” I started but then stopped, intending to reaffirm that I was indeed on the pill and he had nothing to worry about. I loved this though. This feeling of dominance he had over me. Although, I liked him filling me too. But today…Today it was good.
I felt branded. Branded by a fireman!