Missouri Ch. 1

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Brad flies in to meet his lady love.
1.3k words
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Brad couldn't have cared less he got the window seat in the beginning of the flight. Now, though arcing down from the southern sky and getting a view of the big river, he was suddenly curious. He hadn't seen her for nearly a year. Which speck on the earth below might she be?

They had first met at Madison Square Garden last summer. She was a freelance trainer for the Annual American Horse Show, and he was doing the lighting for the event. He was up on the truss and saw her pass under him. Cowboy hat. Jeans. Cowboy boots. She couldn't see him. He wanted to talk to her. Just talk. And he did. First at the catering table, and then, over the next few days, coffee and dinner. On her last night there, they kissed. They both wanted more, but held back. Neither said why. Distance.

Since then there had been a few phone calls and emails. These though, they tried to avoid. Instead there were letters. They both felt the same way about the written word expressed on paper. More soulful, more romantic. And yet patient and subtle.

He could make out farmhouses and ploughed fields. Then silos and cars. Eventually even cattle. As the pressure of descent came over his head, he turned from the window and stared ahead, chewing hard on his own teeth.

He walked out the gate and across the lobby of the airport towards the glass automated sliding doors. Funny how even in what would be considered a stick state back in New York, you could always find airports trying to compete for a top modern impression. Once he crossed through the threshold, the building could no longer conceal the rugged nature and living beauty of the state. He walked on as instructed, and at the end of the road, he could make her out. She hadn't bothered to park in the lot, but instead pulled off the road and halfway under a tree. She was leaning up against the old flair-side Ford she had written of. It was a red, faded by the sun, time, and weather of Missouri. No cowboy hat today. Her hair hung long, brown like fine suede. And the sun lit its outline like a halo. She wore chaps. The cowboy boots too, with spurs no less.

He walked up to her and as he tossed his duffel in the payload, pulled her into his arms.

"Hey, Jessie."

They kissed for a deep solid minute. When they came apart, his arms still around her waist, he could smell the earth on her. It was in her hair and there was honeysuckle on her tongue and breath.

"You drive, Brad. I want to look at you."

He'd wanted to look at her too. The whole flight he'd thought of her. And as she walked around to the passenger door, he watched her rear swing side to side in tight faded jeans and thought of pulling them off. He wondered how he would drive.

They both climbed in and he put the old Ford in gear. She lurched forward and the road pulled underneath them. As she navigated he would steal glances at her during the few seconds she was not staring at his handsome, if rugged face. She was wearing an off white denim shirt with the top three buttons opened. He couldn't tell if she wore a bra or not. He had always noticed her breasts. Not at all because of their size. They were hardly large. Rather they were very round and moved with her, without moving about her. They were a part of her, not something outside of her to be admired. One more detail in the portrait. She was beautiful. Skin tanned without being unnatural. Nothing in her hair but dust and dandelion seeds. She was earth.

"I can't stand it anymore."

And with that she leapt upon him. Her hand was moving between his crotch and waist, not know where she wanted to be. Her mouth captured his ear and advanced on his neck. Stopping just below his lobe, tongue, and lips, and lung, worked him into a fit. He pulled the truck off the gravel road and there in the afternoon sun the made love for the first time.

She pulled herself on top of him, her jeans now around her ankles, and opened his pants. He was hard and had been since he saw her leaning up against the truck. She looked and took pleasant note of the purple hue at the tip of his cock. She held it in her hand and squeezed hard until a single drop of precum rose out of its eye. With her pinkie finger she scooped it up. He gasped as her finger bushed its tip and hole and she took the glistening droplet form her pinkie with the tip of her tongue. She then stretched a long shimmering line of it to his lips and followed it like a tether with her mouth. Another full kiss. And in the middle of it, her other hand still holding fast to his cock, she raised her pelvis, mounted hard, and pushed him deep into her. They both let out a high pitched sigh.

"Oh. OH shit!" she sighed.

And now they were both in full broil. Never had either made such intense love without breaking contact at the mouth. They could not be close enough to each other. With each movement they strove to make more contact with the other's body, while refusing to give up any they already had. This was not the usual back and forth ramming they had known with other partners. They moved together, each undulation serving as an attempt to further the penetration. The pressure on her clit from his abdomen grew heavy. She felt the bottom of the steering wheel pressing hard into her back. She knew her flesh was reddening into a curving bruise just above her ass. And yet she was in oblivion. She cared of nothing but there and then.

Her boots and spurs were still on and the sides of the heels dug into the undersides of brad's knees. Her spurs would only make contact with his skin occasionally, but each time he wondered would it be the feel of cold sharp steel pricking tiny holes in his flesh, drawing just the slightest drop of blood through the round patterned pinholes. Yet he too was enraptured. Her hair whipped across his face and chest when she finally broke the kiss.

She now writhed independent of him, still with the same total contact, and she pulled him into the fit with her.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck" the scream as loud as life.

He wanted to grab the steering will; pull himself even further into her, as though that were possible, and yet he didn't wish to remove his clawing hands from her back and shoulders. He wanted more hands and fingers. More of her. More flesh to hold and hold with. He slung his forearms around the steering wheel, pulling himself up and her even further into it.

Still she writhed and twisted, until at last she sank her fingernails and teeth into his neck and came as he did. His cock pumped cum into her and she reached down to let what she could spill out of her into her palms. She then lifted them up and let the cream slide from her hands into her mouth and down her throat. Then she dismounted and rubbed the remaining cum all over his balls and cock. She sucked and licked all of the cum and juice from her off of him and her hands and collapsed her head into his lap.

He pulled her up to him and she put a hand across his chest. They kissed softly on the lips. Just a little taste of each other's tongues. She sighed and pulled her jeans up. He put the truck in gear and stared up the road at her ranch.

"The house within sight and you couldn't wait?" he smiled.

"I couldn't wait till the airport."

The truck pulled into the yard and brad stared up at the hayloft as he got out. He then turned to Jesse's brown eyes and thought about the days ahead.

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 17 years ago
editing

While I throughly enjoyed the story, the need for some minor editing broke my concentration.

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