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Now with Willow being at my mother’s and Stormy training, I’m asking myself why the hell I am doing chores when my house is empty, and my gorgeous girlfriend has been eye-fucking me for the past hour or so.
Just as I decide to give up and go inside to find her, she comes trotting into the barn as if she owns the place. She’s wearing a cowgirl hat, probably one of Stormy’s or Willows, with her hair plaited, along with cut-off shorts that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination to go with a plaid shirt that is tied in a knot, showing just enough skin to make my mouth water.
“Howdy,” she says, coming to stand in front of me with her hands on her hips.
I do everything I can to contain my laughter, but none of it works. “You’re really fuckin' cute,” I tell her as I pull her closer to me.
“And you’re sweaty,” she says as her hands rest on my chest.
“I think you need to be as well.” I pick her up, making sure my fingers are nestled into the opening seam of her shorts, finding out immediately that she’s gone without any underwear. “Jesus, Zara, you’re killing me here,” I say, only for her to place open-mouth kisses along my neck until she reaches my ear.
She tugs gently and whispers. “Yeah?” she asks.
“Ye-yeah,” I grunt, pushing my fingers into her core. She bites down on my ear and starts moving up and down slowly as I fumble our way to the back of the barn where the stairs will lead up to the hayloft.
Each step is more agonizing than the previous. The rough exterior of my jeans is rubbing against my hardened shaft creating the friction I need right now. The caveman in me is tempted to toss her over my shoulders and run fireman style up the stairs.
As soon as I step on the platform, I pull my hand out gently and set her down, only for her to go right for my jeans, working the buckle open and then the button and zipper. Zara pushes my jeans open and grips my dick, pumping me softly. My eyes are rolling back in my head, throwing me a bit off balance. I wobble, only to right myself by grabbing ahold of the overhead beam.
“Have you ever fucked up here?” she asks, bringing out a side of her that she saves for the bedroom. Zara is the most prim and proper woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing until the proverbial door is closed, then all bets are off with what may come out of her mouth.
“No, but I’m about to.” Reluctantly, I step out of her grip and stagger over to a few bales of hay and rearrange them for what I think will be comfortable for Zara.
“Come here.” I beckon her with my finger. As she draws close, I reach out and pull the knot that is holding her shirt together, loosening it so I can take off her shirt. Her barely there bra makes my mouth water, and as much as I want to make love to her right now, I can’t. Stormy isn’t far from the barn with her trainer and Willow could come back from my parents at any time.
“Put your hands on the hay bale.” My head nods toward the stack I created, and Zara obliges. With her back facing me, she shimmies out of her shorts and looks at me over her shoulder. The sight of this woman that I love, dressed as a cowgirl, showing me her ass and knowing that her pussy is glistening for me, has my cock leaking.
Bending over and rifling through my pocket to pull out my wallet, I realize that I don’t have it, which means I don’t have a condom. Zara notices the instant look of contempt.
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “No condom. I left my wallet on the dresser.”
Zara pushes off the hay bale and shuffles over to me. Her hand caresses my face, her lace-clad breasts push against my skin, and my dick jumps to attention at the fact that she’s so near. “I was tested after I found out about Van. My results came back that I’m clean.” She closes her eyes, and I get the feeling that she’s not only berating herself for bringing him up at a time like this but also thankful that he at least saved her the agony of a disease. “What I’m saying is that I’m clean, and I’m on the pill. If you want. . .”
Hell yes, I want, but I can’t exactly say that out loud.
“If you’re sure, Zara.”
“I am. I want this between us.” She leaves me standing there and returns to her previous position, again throwing me a look over her shoulder. There is no second-guessing, no apprehension on my part. I saddle up behind her and rub the head of my cock between her folds until she bends down even further, giving me an optimum angle.
I sink into her without abandon, moaning at the feel of her walls welcoming me. My hands rest on her hips, and I slowly move in and out until Zara slams herself into me.
“Harder,” she demands, biting her lower lip.
She could ask me anything right now, and I’d give it to her. My fingers dig into her skin as I use her hips as leverage to pound into her. Her sweet moans and the sound of our skin slapping together fill the barn. I lean forward and pull the cup of her bra down and grasp her nipple, tweaking it between my fingertips. Zara cries out more and reaches between her legs to play with her swollen bud.
The crunching of gravel catches our attention. Zara’s head shoots up, and she looks at me. “Hurry up,” she says. I do as she says and replace her hand with mine, massaging the hell out of her clit to make her come because I know that when she does, I won’t be far behind.
The slamming of not one, but two car doors has me thrusting faster than I ever have before. Zara is watching me, with a mixture of pleasure and fear etched across her face. When she nods, I know she’s about to peak, and I pray that once she starts, I’ll be right behind her. The thought of walking around with a raging hard-on doesn’t seem pleasurable to me right now.
Zara bites her lower lip to keep from crying out as her orgasm takes over her body. Her hand covers her mouth to muffle her sounds. I pound harder and relish in the feeling that I am doing this to her, for her, and that’s enough to push me over the brink.
We stay this way, breathing heavily, rocking in and out of each other until I pull out and quickly bring my jeans up. Zara does the same, and before we know it, we’re laughing our asses off.
“That was close,” she says.
“It was thrilling, but I need to finish the job.”
