Blackfoot Ranch Pt. 03

This chapter picks up a few months after the previous one, with the MC visiting Montana again over Christmas. To read all the non-sexy stuff in-between and after, check out the full version later on.

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The main house had been incomplete when I was here over the summer. Now, Elena gave me a proud tour. We weren't ready to sit down together, to break the touch barrier, to address the almost-bursting dam between us.

I marveled at the transformation that had taken place since my last visit. The once incomplete and rough-around-the-edges structure had been lovingly transformed into a warm and inviting home. As we walked through the rooms, Elena's eyes sparkled with pride, and she couldn't help but share the story behind each meticulous restoration and modern touch.

The hardwood floors had been painstakingly refinished, restoring their natural beauty while preserving the character that came with age. The chandeliers, some of which were original fixtures, had been carefully cleaned and rewired, casting a soft glow that added an enchanting atmosphere to the communal rooms. The small details, like the intricate woodwork on the banisters and carefully chosen vintage furnishings, had been given equal care, blending seamlessly with the modern touches.

Elena's eyes shone with passion as she explained how she had meticulously sourced each piece, seeking to preserve the home's rustic history while infusing it with her unique style. The walls, once bare and weathered, now bore vibrant colors that complemented the natural surroundings. Grassy greens, water blues, wildflower yellows and burgundies. The rooms were adorned with contemporary art pieces, some collected and some her own.

We eventually made our way to the heart of the house--the spacious kitchen where we'd first spoken and connected. She had a pot of water already boiling on the stove; Mom had probably called ahead of me like the scamp she'd become in the autumn of her life.

"This place is stunning, Elena," I said, genuinely impressed and wanting her to know it. "It's like stepping into your own little lesbian fairytale."

She blushed slightly at the compliment, her cheeks tinged with a warm hue. "Thank you," she replied, her voice soft. "This house has always held a special place in my heart, and I wanted to honor its past while creating a space that feels like home to me."

"Well, you've certainly succeeded," I said, smiling at her. "It's a testament to your creativity and dedication. Only a few months and you've made something...truly special."

We paused while she poured each of us a mug. I picked out one of her loose-leaf teas that she put in its own strainer. We sat by the breakfast nook. Elena tied the curtains aside so we could watch the snow, which was picking up. I imagined Mom and the girls out on the lake, catching snowflakes on their tongues.

A few sips into the mug, Elena's eyes traveled back to my face. "I'm glad you came back."

"Me too."

Our eyes locked.

I laughed, "Why did you even bother pouring us tea when we both know that as soon as someone makes a move we're going to have sex again?"

That was it.

Elena stood up, walked around the booth, and cupped my face in her hands. Her lips were tender and gentle against mine, like a feather's touch, yet the contact sent an electric jolt through every fiber of my being. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, conveying all the emotions we had kept hidden during our time apart.

As we leaned into each other, our bodies found a natural rhythm that brought us closer. The warmth of her touch and the sweetness of her breath mingled with my own. My heart pounded in my chest, and I could feel the soft thud of hers echoing against mine. The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate. We were trying to make up for all the moments we had missed.

Our hands explored each other's bodies with a newfound urgency. I couldn't get enough of her. Her fingers traced the curve of my jaw, while mine tangled in her hair, pulling her even closer. The desire that had simmered between us for so long now ignited into a fierce flame, consuming us both. The soft moans that escaped our lips blended into a symphony of longing and pleasure.

When we finally broke apart, our foreheads still touching, we both struggled to catch our breath. Our eyes locked, and I saw a mirrored reflection of the depth of our emotions--love, passion, and a newfound sense of completeness.

Her eyes dug into mine. "Should we bring this upstairs? The California king arrived a few weeks ago and I haven't wanted anyone else to christen it with."

"Let me eat you out by the fireplace," I said, almost pleading. "That's all I can think about. I've wanted to just...just devour you...for months now."

She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Her gaze left mine and, instead, traveled over my body. Even covered up by a sweater and jeans, she wanted me. "Christ, you're sexy."

Elena took my hand and pulled me across the kitchen. The adjacent den had been renovated to be a plush, inviting haven. She lit the fireplace with a match on a pile of kindling, always the capable outdoorswoman. She didn't turn on any other lights as the fire caught ablaze, crackling as it ate at the logs. Warm, orangey light bathed us both. Her features were even more angular when lit up from below. The den had a large U-shaped sectional with tons of throw pillows and blankets for personalized relaxation. The faux fur rug was soft and silky underfoot. We stood on it for a second, almost unsure, like we hadn't been together before.

I closed the space between us and touched the hem of her sweater. When her soft breathing amped up, I tugged on the shirt and guided it up over her head. Her arms dropped back down, bouncing her breasts slightly. She hadn't worn a bra. I'd never had the chance to really and truly explore her, only catching glimpses, and this was it. I stood back a little just to admire her. Her breasts were large and sat on her somewhat full stomach. They were big enough that I wouldn't be able to hold them entirely in my hands. Her areolas were wide and dark, perky puffy nipples at their center. Unlike on her face, she had a smattering of freckles across her chest, probably from years and years of sun.

I leaned down and took one of her nipples in my mouth. She gasped. I wondered how long it had been since someone else had treated her the way she'd treated me. I hoped I could live up to-- not her expectations, because I knew she didn't have any, but to what she deserved. Her skin tasted perfectly clean, a little salty, and her nipples puckered immediately against my tongue. I sucked. I nibbled. I played with her until I found the way she wanted to be savored. She wanted me to suck hard enough to leave marks. The thought turned me on, too, so I worked my way around both of her tits, leaving reddish-purple circles on her skin. Each time, Elena breathed in harder and harder until her breaths became soft moaning gasps.

Knowing what I wanted, I pushed her back on the couch and started working on the button and zipper of her jeans. Breathless, she tried to tease, "Look at you, all dominant."

I flashed her a playful glance. "Want me to be something else?"

"No, no, this works for me."

I chuckled and tugged her jeans down. She helped me get them to the floor. I tossed them aside. She'd definitely been alerted of my arrival because she was wearing deep burgundy lace panties, boyshort cut, a sultry blend of feminine and masculine. I spread her legs and inhaled her scent, unable to resist. Her aroma was warm and tart. I knew that tasting it was going to change the way I viewed my sexuality forever.

First, though, I needed her to need it.

Leaving her underwear on for now, I kissed along her inner thighs. While I let my mouth search along every stretch mark and pock of her thigh, my fingers brushed from her hips to her ass to back again. Her body had all the marks of a woman with a full life: Muscles that tensed beneath thick thighs, a stomach full and round from countless indulgences, and skin worn with scars, stretch marks, moles, and more. I wanted to consume every part of her. As I earnestly, genuinely enjoyed each inch of her hips and legs, making sure that nothing went untouched, her voice began to bleed through her breathy moans. The sound of her letting go, even a little, spurred me forward.

I reached up and greedily tugged down her panties. I left them in the same pile as her jeans since we wouldn't be needing those. Elena had a full dark garden of pubic hair, neatly trimmed fairly short and with nice clean edges. It struck me just how womanly she looked naked. Paul had made countless nitpicks through the years about love handles, waxing, baby weight, killing our sex life before it had even begun. But I couldn't imagine why, now, taking in the whole history of Elena's life written across her body.

Sliding my arms around her hips to hold her close, I started with the desire to learn. I ran my tongue along all of her folds, spreading her labia apart, suckling at her clit, and dipping my tongue into her cunt. Just getting acquainted. I took mental notes at how she reacted when I touched different areas, which ones made her squirm and which left her silent. She tasted like earth, somehow, like the mountains and the spring water that flowed between them. Tangy, yes, and bitter, like I expected.

Once I had a lay of the land, I started with what I knew worked for me, figuring that the mechanics couldn't be all that different with the same hardware. My tongue made ginger circles around her clit, not quite sure where to go from there.

Sensing my need for direction, Elena wrapped one of her hands around my head and said, "Up and down, baby, with some pressure."

When she called me baby, a little moan escaped my lips. She chuckled at that. I listened to her, though, and started flicking my tongue up and down, right under the hood of her clit. I adjusted as she instructed me to, increasing the pressure until she bucked her hips and told me that was just right. I kept at a constant speed until she told me to speed up. All the while, I learned. I made sure that, for next time -- and there would be a next time, I swore -- I'd be able to do exactly what she needed.

"Now use your first two fingers." Her voice itself was a moan, barely intelligible and absolutely radiant with pleasure. "Don't thrust. Curl. Toward you."

I nodded, still using my tongue the way she wanted. Her pussy was drenched with both my spit and her own juices, so my first two fingers slipped inside her cunt easily. I'd never had my fingers in a pussy before, not even my own. It was velvety and textured at once. Hotter than I expected and slick like candy. I flipped my hand so that I could curl my fingers toward me. When I did that, she groaned loudly.

I would've grinned from pride if I weren't otherwise occupied. The tips of my fingers touched a rougher, spongier part inside of her that I knew was her G-spot. I worked hard to curl right on that with consistent pressure. I found the rhythm that her body set. Without words, she could increase my pace exactly how she needed just by grinding and moaning and clenching down on me. I could listen to her body, which sang loud and strong and clear. I timed the curling of my fingers with the pressure and release of my tongue.

In a few minutes of increasing intensity, Elena went from the stoic and dominant woman I knew to a breathy, gasping goddess who let go into the pleasure. I knew that I'd found exactly the right place and speed when I felt her cunt clench down, hard, on my fingers. I didn't make what I knew was a classic mistake of immediately rushing her through. Instead, I kept my pace consistent, even slowing down a little, as she burst into quick, hard contractions around my finger. I listened to the crescendo of her moans echoing through the house, lost in the myriad of senses playing around both of us.

A few moments later, her breathing slowed and she tapped on my shoulder. I looked up at her, a proud smile dripping with her spreading across my face. Elena gazed down at me, affection and satisfaction in her eyes. She didn't need to say 'good job' for me to feel it. She leaned down and kissed me.

The phone rang.

Elena laughed in her post-orgasmic delight, trotted across the kitchen, ass bouncing gorgeously, and picked up the phone. The conversation was only a minute or two. I stood up, still fully clothed, and wiped off my mouth. Then I grabbed myself a glass of water and downed it.

After she hung up the phone, Elena turned to me, her eyes positively sparkling. "Your mom says she's got the girls back inside for lunch and she doesn't want you driving back on the roads. Apparently, another foot of snow fell while you were down there and it's not going to let up any time soon." Then she grinned, all lit up with excitement and desire. "We're snowed in, beautiful."

I looked out the window for the first time. Just as she'd said, everything was covered in a thick blanket -- comforter, really -- of puffy snow. Then my eyes returned to Elena. "That doesn't sound too bad to me."

Elena got half-dressed in a cozy fleece house robe and got started on dinner, assuring me that it was necessary to start hours in advance. While she boiled vegetables and meat together for stock, she presented me with a perfectly toasted turkey avocado melt, which absolutely hit the spot for a snow day. I ate in silence for a minute. She was humming softly as she cut celery, leeks, and some other greens I didn't recognize on sight.

Curious but not wanting to prod too much, I asked gently, "When was the last time you let someone get you off?"

"Honestly?" She considered the question, stirring her soup with a big wooden spoon. "A long time, longer than I thought before you asked. Probably right after the divorce when I went through my whoring phase."

I laughed. "Yeah? How was that?"

"I had a veritable buffet of pussy up and down the west coast. Not bad at all." She gave me a coy smile. "Really, though, it was alright. I learned what I needed to learn about being gay and figured out how to start shedding my old life."

I took the last bite of my sandwich and decided that, if I was going to prod, this was as good a time as any. "Is it, like, a conscious choice? Or just not usually comfortable?"

"I don't know," she told me, completely earnest. "Maybe because I got married young. Maybe because we weren't in love. Maybe because, because because, right? I could think about it forever. I guess I've always just loved getting other women off so much that it didn't feel necessary. Honestly, I barely masturbate. Just doesn't appeal to me the same way."

"Interesting. Couldn't be me," I laughed, "but interesting."

Elena stepped away from the stove and took my face in her hands. "Was that a request, you greedy little slut?"

My mouth dropped open at her words. They sent a shock of desire right into my cunt. "I- it wasn't but- but it definitely could be."

She kissed me on the nose. "God, you're cute."

I blushed as she cleared my plate and set her soup to simmer. She turned around, then, leaning against the counter, and asked, "Anything else I can get for you before I fuck you for the rest of the afternoon?"

I shook my head 'no' which made her chuckle again.

"Why don't you go make yourself comfortable upstairs? I need to finish up some stuff down here, but I'll be up in a minute or two. Okay?"

I smiled through my blushing cheeks. "Okay."

I gave her a slap on the ass to make her laugh one more time before ascending the no-longer-creaking old staircase. I'd never really been upstairs before, only glanced inside the rooms when Elena toured me around, so I couldn't help snooping a bit. The master suite was at the end of one hall to the right, its double doors obvious. Directly in front of the staircase was the most lavish guest bathroom, with a clawfoot tub and double sink. There were four other bedrooms, but only two of them were designed as guest rooms. The other rooms were a craft room and a home gym/office.

The master bedroom intimidated me, to be honest. It had an entryway, like stepping into another era. The walls were adorned with rich, deep-colored fabrics, a mix of reds and golds, regal and sophisticated. The furniture was a blend of classic and modern design, with a large bed drowning in unique pillows taking center stage. The bed was dressed in soft, silky sheets, inviting me to sink in and relax.

Before I did get comfortable, though, I finished snooping around. A polished light wood vanity stood near the window, catching the reflection of the white light that filtered through the heavy, luxurious curtains, tinted by snow. The vanity was adorned with small trinkets and perfumes, hinting at Elena's attention to detail and love for beautiful things.

Beside the bed, there was an intricately carved wooden side table in the same color. With a small stack of books and a delicate lamp next to it, a plush armchair was tucked into the corner, offering a cozy spot to read. I could imagine Elena there, curled up with one of her teas and reading about, I don't know, ranch upkeep. Gardening. That sort of thing.

The master suite had an adjacent walk-in closet, its doors slightly ajar. Inside, I could see an array of clothing and accessories, neatly organized on hanging racks and shelves. The closet was half-empty, one entire side waiting for clothes, but there were no more boxes to be unpacked. She was waiting for someone to fill it. I tried not to pay attention to the way my stomach fluttered when I thought about my own clothes and shoes filling the space.

I ducked out of the closet to the door on the other side of the suite. The large bathroom was equally lavish as everything else, with marble countertops and floors. The dominant feature was the jacuzzi tub, beckoning me to indulge in its opulence. If we were going to be snowed in, I was definitely going to spend some time in there, soaking all the way up to my chin with jets punching into my muscles.

Now, to get comfortable. I figured the best thing to do would be completely comfortable, the way Elena would most want to see me. I stripped off my clothes and admired myself in the full-length mirror near her bed. Being with Elena made me see myself in a different light entirely. I wasn't the frumpy girl who had kids too young and was already spent. I was a woman with experience, fullness shaping my entire body, and there was nothing but beauty to behold.

I sat down on the bed. The silky duvet cover cooled my skin. As I lay on the bed, spreading my legs and leaning my head back, I could feel the weight of everything slowly lifting from my shoulders. The softness of the sheets beneath me enveloped me in a cocoon of comfort. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let the peace of the moment wash over me. The room was quiet, save for the heater quietly blowing. The snowfall outside created a soft and muted ambiance. The world had paused, for today.

The sound of the master bedroom door opening lulled me out of my relaxation. I'd practically forgotten that I was naked, pussy completely exposed, while I lounged. Elena's immediate look of lust reminded me, though. She paused and breathed in to memorize the sight in front of her. Unashamed, I put on a little show of turning over on the bed so she could look at my ass, too.

At that, Elena crawled onto the bed behind me and kissed the curve where my ass met my thighs. I leaned back into her, on my knees now, and she couldn't resist eating me out from behind for a minute. The sudden warmth of her tongue on my slit caught me by surprise, but the deep relaxation from before hadn't left my body yet. Instead of jumping or gasping, I arched my back so that she had more access. Elena licked up and down my pussy. Even though we were in a somewhat awkward position, I still enjoyed feeling how bad she wanted to taste and tease me. She backed up and lovingly massaged my ass for a moment. Then she spanked me. That made me gasp. Nobody had ever done that before.