Chapter Seven
Brett
I left Hannah to sleep beneath the tree. She’d looked so peaceful and had such a sweet sated smile on her lips—lips that had worshipped my cock so beautifully—that I didn’t have the heart to wake her. Not bothering to shower despite the oil on my body, I pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and unloaded the car. It took several trips, but once I had all the pots and plants set along the edge of the patio, the bags of dirt piled beside them, I put the last box on a dolly and wheeled it through the gate. After returning to the garage for my tools, I spent the next hour assembling the porch swing. The associate at the store had helped me select the proper hanger kit and after measuring to make sure there was enough distance behind the swing to keep it from slamming into the wall of the house, I spent another hour installing all the lag screws into the joists. I had to go back to the garage for two sawhorses to support the swing’s weight while I adjusted the chains.
Finally, I hung the swing and took a seat. It was the perfect height for me. I could easily set it in motion with a simple push of my foot. It might be a little tall for Hannah, but I was picturing her curled up beside me with her feet tucked under her or sitting on my lap, so this worked. I’d just returned from carrying the box, trash, sawhorses, and tools back to the garage when I saw the branches of the tree part. I’d picked up her clothes after I’d left the lair, but she’d managed to rob me of the opportunity to see her walk across the yard naked as she stepped out, her hair messy from sleep and the blanket wrapped around her like a cloak.
“Hey,” I said when she reached the patio steps. “Feel better?”
“Yes.” She looked at all the pots and plants. “I would have helped, but thanks for letting me nap.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, stepping aside so that she’d have an unobstructed view of the swing.
“Oh, wow! Brett, that’s perfect!” She moved toward it and then stopped. “I don’t want to get it all sticky. Let me go shower, and I’ll help with the planting and we can swing.”
“No, it’s silly to shower and then get dirty all over again.” Reaching for her, I tugged the blanket.
“But you’re dressed,” she said, her fingers gripping to retain her covering.
She’d been pushed past her limits and had done very well. I didn’t want to push her too far, too fast. Releasing my hold, I pulled my t-shirt over my head. “How about we share our clothes and the planting?”
Her nod and her smile told me I’d made the right choice. And the fact that she released the blanket and stood before me nude, told me she was losing at least a bit of her inhibitions. I slipped the shirt over her head, and she lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed me.
“Thanks.”
I could hear her stomach rumble and picked her up and carried her to the swing. “Don’t worry about the swing. It’s washable. We’ll eat first.”
By the time we’d eaten, swinging gently the entire time, and planted all the seeds as well as transferred the plants to their new pots, it was getting dark and we were both filthy. Oil was evidently a dirt magnet and streaks covered our arms, faces, Hannah’s legs, and my chest. When I pulled out the garden hose, she shook her head and held up her hands.
“Don’t you dare!”
Grinning, I arched my eyebrow. “Don’t plants need water?”
“Oh… I thought… yes, they need water.”
I turned and gave the plants a long drink, but when I moved to the pots that she’d planted with seeds, she came forward.
“No!” she said, grabbing the hose and then shrieking when water splashed her t-shirt.
“Hey, don’t blame me,” I said when she looked up at me with disbelief on her face. “You did that yourself.”
“Really?” she said and then turned the hose on me.
Never one to back down, I grabbed both her and the hose. “I think you missed a melon,” I said, soaking the shirt over her right breast as she sputtered. Once both breasts were beautifully molded by the wet shirt, nipples pushing against the fabric, I smiled.
“God, you are gorgeous.”
She stopped wiggling and giggled. “You are so bad. I just meant you have to adjust the spray to a gentle mist or else the water could blast the seeds right out of the pot.”
I held the hose out. “I can trust you, right?”
“Right. I’m only going to water the veggies.”
I should have known better. The moment she had possession, she turned the water on me again, this time directed at my crotch.
“Hannah Rose Griffith!”
She looked up at me with those big blue eyes. “Zucchini is a veggie, sir.”
I looked down to see that my cock was growing. “My, look at that, you do seem to have a very green thumb.”
Laughing, she adjusted the nozzle and finished the watering. After rolling the hose back on its reel, I saw her at the patio door, shaking her head.
“We are going to track mud all through the house.”
“Then let’s at least minimize the damage,” I said, scooping her up into my arms and not setting her down until we reached our master bath. Stripping her, I dropped my pants and joined her in the shower.
“Hands on the seat, legs spread,” I instructed, turning her to face away from me. Once she’d planted her hands and shifted her feet, I thrust into her. She moaned and then yelped when I swatted her right cheek. I let her know this wasn’t punishment by rubbing the sting away. Her pussy spasmed as I added a matching handprint to her left buttock. Pumping and swatting, as she pushed back against me, it didn’t take long before I was close to coming. “Play with your clit,” I said, wrapping an arm around her waist so she wouldn’t feel unstable with only one hand to brace herself.
The sight of her fingers sliding over her clit each time I withdrew was a gift. Every time she’d bent over to pat dirt around a plant, I’d gotten glimpses of her pink pussy lips. I gentled my swats and my thrusts, giving her time to get to the point where she was begging.
“May I come, sir?”
“We’ll come together,” I said, driving deep. It didn’t take but a few strokes before she came, the walls of her cunt squeezing along the length of my shaft, drawing my own release. Pulling her up, my cock still inside her, I kissed the curve of her neck.
“Like I said, absolutely gorgeous.”
We washed each other, hands roaming, fingers stroking. I shampooed her hair, loving her purrs of pleasure as I massaged her scalp.
The water was cooling by the time we stepped out. I wrapped a towel around my waist.
“I’ll clean up the mess,” I said, wetting a washcloth in the sink.
“No, I can do that,” she protested, wrapping the ends of her towel above her breasts.
“You go ahead and dry your hair, babe,” I countered, running a hand over mine which, being short, took no time at all to dry.
“Thanks.”
Giving her a quick kiss, I left the bathroom. By the time I returned, she was wearing a sky-blue nightgown and her hair was laying in soft waves down her back. Despite her nap, she was looking a bit beat.
I pulled on a clean pair of sweat pants. “How about a sandwich and some soup?”
“I’m not really hungry, but I’ll make you one.”
“I can make it myself. Why don’t you pick a movie and curl up on the couch?”
I chuckled when I brought my plate into the living room. It seemed my little recruit had a tendency to twist my commands while still obeying them. She was curled up on the couch, sound asleep; the video she’d chosen was tucked in the hand that also cradled her cheek. Setting down my plate, I scooped her up and carried her to bed. She never stirred as I tucked her in and bent to kiss her cheek. Though it was relatively early, her day had not only started hours earlier than was normal for her, she’d exercised, run a mile, spent several hours planting her container garden, not to mention the incredible sex we’d shared. I couldn’t fault her for crashing.
Eating my dinner, I watched the rest of a ballgame and then clicked off the TV and locked up the house. I slid into bed, moving to spoon against my wife, cupping her breast and loving the soft sound of pleasure she made even in slumber. Nuzzling my lips against her shoulder, I thought about the fact that while she’d had a bit of piss and vinegar throughout the day, she reminded me of the plants in her garden. The seed of our dynamic had been planted and would take both nurturing and pruning to coax it to blossom. But, the fruit of that labor would be beautiful. I was not about to let another month, much less another year pass watching her become stressed, unhappy, and so very lost. Putting the blame where it belonged, I vowed again to become the man she needed.