Getting What You Wish For

I first met Jack Reynolds the day I moved into the large boarded up house on Hwy 87. My Grandfather Jonathan Summours had died in a car accident ten years earlier leaving my Grandmother Eleanor truly alone for the first time in her life and increasingly lonely as each year passed. My Dad's family had owned and successfully managed one of the larger ranches in that area and knowing how much the ranch had meant to my Grandfather and my Dad, Grammy had stayed in the house, determined to make it work. Running the business was difficult at first, but with the help of her neighbor and old friend Jack Reynolds, she was able to keep it operating and more importantly profitable.

Grammy passed away almost a year ago, and since then, the house had been vacant.

I remembered the house from my childhood and the many wonderful summers that my cousins and I had spent running through the house, playing in the yard, fishing and swimming in the large pond behind the house. I would never forget the delicious summer barbeques and large, noisy family gatherings; it was a very special place, and I had to admit that my Grandmother leaving the house to me came as an unanticipated surprise.

At the time of her death, I was in the midst of a terribly unhappy marriage. I suppose a divorce was inevitable, but I still held out hope that my then husband Martin and I could save our marriage, and the last thing on my mind was moving south and taking on the responsibility of an old house. A year went by, and the fighting, yelling, and animosity continued. Finally, I had had enough. Fortunately, Martin wanted out as much as I did and the divorce proceeded without any major problems. As soon as it became final, Martin bought me out of my share of our house; I packed up my things, loaded them into my car and started driving. After almost three days on the road, I pulled into the winding driveway of the house that held so many memories.

I sat there behind the wheel and without knowing quite why I began to cry. Maybe it was thinking about Grammy; maybe it was the final release of tension from the divorce. Hell, maybe it was just the realization that a new door was opening for me.

As I sat there blubbering, a loud but measured tapping on the driver's side window pulled me from my momentary funk, and I looked up to see a big, tall man wearing a cowboy hat. Standing next to the car with an aggressively impatient expression on his sharp featured, leathery face his fist came down hard on the roof of the car. I sat there silently staring at him until he began tapping on the window again.

"Hey! You can't stop here. What do you want?" he shouted in a loud, gruff voice.

Now angry and refusing to let him intimidate me, with all my strength I pushed the car door open, forcing him to step back and I got out of the car.

"My name is Miranda Summours . . . I own this place. Who the hell are you?" I demanded, indignation dripping from each word.

A look of surprise momentarily flickered across his face before being replaced with a stern no nonsense demeanor. The man was about forty with thick dark hair that was just beginning to gray. Hard bodied, broad shoulders, flat muscled stomach and slim hips, he towered over me. The man took a step toward me, coming so close I felt as if he were about to pin me to the car door. So close, I could smell the faint scent of fading cologne, tobacco, and sweat that clung to him.

"So, you're Miranda?" He asked, taking in my body in a slow lecherous scan that made me feel vulnerable and exposed.

"My name's Jack Reynolds; I was good friends with your Dad when we were growing up and got closer to his parents, your grandparents after he went off to college and moved away."

He was standing too close, practically leaning over me now.

"I spent a lot of time working for your Grandmother after her husband died, coming by here checking on her, helping her run the ranch. She talked about you often. I caught a glimpse of you at her funeral, but we didn't get a chance to talk. I was surprised when you didn't show up to claim the house. When I realized the house was going to be left vacant, after a while I came by and decided it was better to board it up, you know, to keep the animals and vagrants out."

I squirmed away from him, my breast brushing hard across his chest as I did so.

"Well, thank you for being there for her," I began before realizing that he was staring at my chest. I glanced down and saw to my chagrin my nipples were standing hard and erect under my thin blouse, my involuntary excitement obvious. Blushing with embarrassment, I turned abruptly and headed for the house.

*****

Unlocking the front door, I entered and stood in the foyer silently looking about the lower floor, flooded by long ago memories of a happy childhood, spent with loving grandparents. The quiet of the moment was interrupted when Jack came up behind me and stood so close I could feel the warmth of this body.

"The house is yours," he said in a matter of fact tone.

"It's going to take some work to get it back in shape after being empty for so long, he added, but I'll have a couple of the boys come over to help you out until you're settled in."

"Thank you Mr. Reynolds, but you don't have to . . ." I began nervously before he dismissed my objection with a wave of his hand.

"Well, thank you anyway," I said as he walked away and headed back to his truck.

That was our first meeting.

True to his word, early the next morning Jack and two of his men arrived and began repairing the roof. It took the majority of the spring, but by early summer, the grounds were cleaned up, repaired and looking like it had during those summers when I would come to visit.

I liked being here. I discovered I enjoyed gardening and caring for the odd mix of animals (brood of chickens, two sheep, three horses, two dogs and three cats). As the weather continued to warm and the days grew longer, I also found that I liked and enjoyed Jack's company. We fell into a pattern where most afternoons, he would stop by to move something, fix something often staying for dinner. After dinner, we'd sit and talk, him eventually opening up about his growing relationship with my Grammy after the death of my grandfather. As for me, I found myself confiding closely held feelings about my often sexually abusive marriage, my final decision to divorce my ex-husband and to move here.

There were qualities of strength, experience, and kindness about Jack that pulled me to him like a magnet. Despite our contentious first meeting, my feelings, in the beginning, had been just a growing affection much as it would be for a daughter toward her father. As time went on, I began to know him better and to appreciate him for the man that he was. Those feelings slowly began to change. I wanted him and felt attracted to him as a woman would for a man. Sadly, as my feelings intensified, I could sense Jack trying halfheartedly to maintain a distance between us.

Coming out of one bad relationship, I certainly had not intended to enter into another one, particularly with Jack, a man almost twenty years my senior. Emotionally I think I understood why I felt this way, but physically, sexually, my body ached whenever he was near. It had gotten to the point where one night I awoke, prone on my bed, my body covered in a light sweat and a large pillow under my hips. I could feel a warm, wet pulsing between my legs and immediately knew what I had been doing. In my sleep, I had been humping, rubbing myself against the pillow until I had cum in a warm, soft orgasm. I had only been with one man sexually, my ex-husband Martin, but to my surprise, I realized that increasingly, my nights were filled with restless sleep and masturbation as I dreamed of Jack making love to me.

*****

Despite his unspoken and halfhearted efforts not to touch or encourage me, the physical desires on both our parts were undeniable.

The physical intimacies between us started slowly. One afternoon I was outside in my small orchard picking apples from the now heavily fruit laden tree that had flourished in the rear yard for many years. Jack who was always so cautious and controlled, quietly came up behind me. I gasped in surprise when he slipped his hands under my t-shirt and began to fondle my naked breasts. I sank back against his broad, hard chest as an electric tingling traveled from my nipples downward to my clit making me wet with desire for him. Jack kissed me hard and demandingly as he reached under my skirt and began to pull my panties down. In that moment of weakness, I have no doubt that Jack would have fucked me right there in my garden had not Bobby, one of his workers come looking for him. I'm sure the sexual tension between us had been obvious to others for some time, and when Bobby saw us together, he began to cough self-consciously, as he approached and we broke apart.

Jack left with Bobby and though a bit disgruntled I walked back to the house, disappointed and unsatisfied. Hurrying to my room, I lay across my bed, removed my damp clinging panties and found my sensitive swollen clit. Closing my eyes, I pleased and pleasured myself until the warm waves of orgasm flooded through me as I whispered his name, "Jack . . . Jack".

*****

After several more weeks of kissing, petting and fondling the frustration and tension were unbearable. One night while sitting out on the porch talking, I blurted out to Jack that I wanted to have sex with him. He gave me a not very fatherly kiss and told me that it wouldn't be right. He kept saying how sorry he was, that our age difference, his relationships with my Dad and my Grandparents weighted heavily on him, and he had decided that sexual intimacy between us would be wrong.

I was hurt and confused, "I don't care, I don't care, Jack," I screamed at him.

"You've been feeling me up, masturbating and fondling me for weeks. Why wasn't it wrong when I sucked your cock . . . why wasn't it wrong then?" Even as I yelled at him, I could see an erection growing in his pants that he tried to hide.

Jack put his arm around my shoulders, and wiping the tears from my face said in a dry, raspy voice, "Damn it, Miranda, I'm too old for you." Holding my face in his hands, he tilted my face up and tenderly kissed me on my lips. "I'd love nothing more than to feel your body moving under mine . . . but . . . but," he stuttered before I interrupted.

"I want you so much Jack," I whimpered, tears streaming down my face.

Clearly shaken and obviously not having expected my reaction, he stepped backward and sat down on the couch. I walked over to him, "it's not fair Jack . . . it's not wrong if we both want this."

Yes, I was the aggressor, I knew that when I knelt between his legs. In a moment of what I'm sure he saw as a perverted flaw in his character, he reluctantly let me unzip him and free his cock.

"Let me, Jack . . . please," I said lifting my tear stained face and looking into his dark, lust clouded eyes.

I lowered my mouth and covered his cockhead with it's warm, moistness. I could feel his cock growing bigger and pulsing. Jack began to moan, and his hips to sway instinctively upward into my mouth, trying to go deeper into the tightness of my throat. I forced myself to relax and despite him now holding my head on his cock, I managed not to gag. Working his shaft in and out of my mouth, he quickly responded, filling my mouth with his increasing hardness. I wanted him to cum in my mouth.

Holding my head tightly between his palms, he held it in the right position to accommodate his dick. Jack groaned as if in pain and began to thrust harder. I could sense his urgency, but just when I felt his cock stiffen and his balls draw up against his body . . . he pulled out of my mouth.

"No, no, nooooo," he mumbled as he pushed me aside, adjusted his clothes and hurried out.

Confused, I ran to the window and watched as he got into his truck and drove away. Oh my God! What had just happened? A heavy sense of sadness enveloped me, and my eyes stung with unshed tears. It seemed all I did lately was cry over Jack Reynolds.

Young though I was I was not naive enough to think Jack had denied himself female company and I suspected he was having sex with his current "friend" Bella. My heart and body ached, knowing that he was heading to her apartment to find his release instead of staying with me.

After that incident, he became even more standoffish and curt with me, but his new attitude only served to upset and anger me, and I promised myself that I would forget about Jack Reynolds and get on with my life.

*****

The summer continued, and one warm, humid night we found ourselves partying with a mutual group of friends. Though having come to the party separately, after a few drinks we danced, holding each other tight, our bodies grinding and humping under the dim light on the dance floor. A bit intoxicated, we went outside for fresh air where he pressed me against the side of the building; Jack slid his hand up my bare thigh and guided his fingers into my tight wet pussy. I could feel myself contract around his fingers as he worked them in and out of my pussy. My legs trembled, and I came in his hand, my pussy wet and grasping. He bent down and kissed me, and I thought to myself, "He says he won't fuck me because it's wrong, but he has no problem finger-fucking me in this doorway."

We stood there a few minutes until I had recovered before he escorted me back into the bar.

"Jack, Jack honey," a female voice called out above the noisy din of the room. It was Bella, his latest friend. I watched as she walked toward him, and being careful to rub her 44DD breasts against his arm whispered something into his ear. Glancing down, I caught a glimpse of her hand fondling his crotch before he reluctantly brushed it away.

"You know, it's getting a little late Miranda, he said turning away from Bella. Why don't you get your things, and I'll bring the car around and take you home."

As I waited for my shawl, I turned and saw Jack and Bella walking through the crowd, his hand resting casually, possessively on her ass. I knew he was going to have sex with her later, and the thought of him fucking her and not me, made my head pound with anger.

By the time I got into his car, I was buzzed, having had two straight shots of Tequila before I left the bar.

I sat in the passenger seat watching him drive and through a liquor induced haze I realized how aroused I was and how much I wanted to taste his cock. Reaching over, I unzipped Jack's pants. Of course, he was surprised at first, but he didn't resist, didn't tell me to stop or push me away. Instead he made himself more comfortable as he drove and opened his legs wider for me. He drove in silence, as I went down on him, sucking his cock, feeling the pressure of his hand on the back of my head, and then the instinctive thrusting of his hips until he came in a slow, oozing ejaculation.

He had never cum in my mouth before.

Twenty minutes later, we walked into my kitchen. Jack poured me a Tequila and a Bourbon for himself. We sat down at the kitchen table and finished our drinks. It was close to two o'clock in the morning, and though my head was spinning, I stood up and said, "Well, I know you have to go, Jack. Weren't you going to go by Bella's tonight?" He stood up and just looked at me for what seemed like a long time.

"Yes, I had thought about seeing Bella . . . but, if you want me to stay . . . I will," he said.

"I don't want to go, he added. I'd rather stay here with you Randa."

His look said it all . . . we both knew what was finally going to happen.

*****

A bit shaky, but emboldened by alcohol and lust, I watched as Jack removed his clothes, then mine and got down on his hands and knees. Jack spread his knees wide, allowing his quickly stiffening dick to hang down, his cock head beginning to leak. I did as he instructed; I massaged the small of his back, rubbing my hands slowly up and down the backs of his thighs, letting my hand lightly brush over his balls and my pinkie ever so gently press into his butthole, making him gasp and constrict his butt as his dick continued to harden.

I bent forward, kissing and licking his ass, my tongue making long, leisurely swipes along the length of his crack, causing him to shudder from its warmth and velvety softness. I reached under him and taking his now fully erect cock in my hand began to jerk him downward with an almost milking motion, as if it were a large, magnificent udder. Jack shivered, his body ready and eager to feel the indescribable pleasure of release. Jack's breathing increased when his hips started to sway and thrust faster. I could feel his balls tightening when I sucked them into my mouth and released them. My tongue running over his ass crack and his cock that now was rigid and positioned in a swollen, parallel arch under his a body.

I again massaged the small of his back and his hard muscled thighs, taking pleasure in seeing and hearing his responses when I played between his legs, licking and rimming him, gently nipping his butt cheeks and balls with my teeth. I sat back on my heels watching and listening but not touching him. His cockhead still swollen I could see his semi-erect but softening cock hanging downward toward the floor, a large droplet of pre-cum clinging precariously to his pee-hole.

I pushed my finger into his butthole and felt the pressure of his sphincter tighten around the first knuckle of my finger. I playfully bit his ass cheek and pulled away promising him that one day I would give him a prostate fuck that he would always remember.

*****

"Randa . . . Miranda . . . please baby," he murmured more to himself than to me.

I rolled onto my back and pushed myself between his knees until my mouth was directly under his cockhead. Opening my mouth, I licked away the pre-cum that had seeped out and hung in a thin, clear thread from his cock.

"Oh, GGGod . . ." he said in an agonized groan when my tongue teased his bulbous burgundy hued crown with light tongue flicks. The tongue flicks were followed by a soft feathering around the edge of his cockhead and the gentle penetration of his pee hole with the tip of my tongue.

"Please Randa, please," he said again, but this time loud enough for me to hear. He wanted me to take him into my mouth and kept trying to force his cock into that tight, wet opening. I turned my head away and could feel the friction of his cock stroke once or twice against my cheek before he grasped what had happened. He took a deep, audible breath, stopped moving, and remained motionless for several seconds. I turned my head back toward him and slowly ran my tongue down the length of his cock. I roughly sucked his balls into my mouth and teased them for several minutes before releasing them. Letting my tongue trace the hard pulsing vein that trailed along the underside of his cock, I licked my way up to his crown and allowed him to push the head of his cock between my parted lips and into my waiting mouth.

I sensed Jack wouldn't be able to take much more of my toying with him, and so there on my back, I let him mouth fuck me until he came in a torrent. His body stiffening and his cock getting bigger as it nestled deeper into my throat. Jack jerked hard and began to thrust filling my mouth and throat with so much cum that it easily oozed from the corners of my mouth, trickled down my cheeks and pooled on the floor in a small damp spot behind my neck.

He had cum for what seemed a long time, and when he had emptied himself, he pulled out of my mouth and lay down next to me, pulling me to him. We lay there for a while, him holding me in his arms. When Jack moved his hand downward, I opened my legs for him and quietly submitted to his knowing hand/fingers as he brought me to orgasm. My body trembled next to him, and I snuggled against his chest enjoying the afterglow of my orgasm and the warm comfort of his body.