My Sweet Sandy Ch. 03

Sandy and I hit the jackpot.

My parents were invited to join friends in North Carolina for an impromptu weeklong vacation. They left early and I crawled out of bed to say goodbye.

"Be good," Mom said. "No girls."

"Sure."

I watched them pull out the driveway.

No girls, she'd said. Nothing about forty year old women.

I'd texted Sandy the news the night before. She responded at once. "Pack a bag, baby. And plan out the dinners you're going to make me."

Sandy's daughter returned from Michigan in two weeks, so this would be our last opportunity to enjoy extended time alone together. Since I didn't have to concoct excuses for my parents, I'd stay with her all week.

My older brother worked for Dad's firm but still lived at home so he'd keep an eye on the house. He wasn't disappointed when I told him I'd also be gone. Neither was his girlfriend, I'm sure.

Sandy had coffee and blueberry muffins waiting at her place. She stood by the sink doing dishes wearing white capris and a blue and white floral top. The capris showed off her ass and delightful thighs. Her top highlighted her other assets with class and elegance.

The sight of her ass in the capris evoked pleasant recollections from a few nights ago. A vivid image filled my mind of Sandy naked and on her hands and knees. Her glorious ass thrust upwards as I fucked her. Her incoherent moans as she came. My cock throbbing inside her.

I kissed her. "You look gorgeous, if I do say so. I take it you're not working in the shop today?"

"Manuel can't make it. My friend Rachel and I are going to hit a spa, then lunch and some shopping."

"Do you still have time for coffee?"

"Of course. Sit down."

We drank coffee and talked while we ate the blueberry muffins. It was unrushed, no Manuel about to pull into the driveway and interrupt our time together.

"You don't have any deliveries today," Sandy said. "Maybe it'll be a good day to paint the barn."

It was a daunting task. She'd already purchased the five gallon bucket of bright red paint and dug out a paint sprayer from the shed.

"I don't know how to use one of those," I'd said.

"Then you'll need to learn. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

I did some research online over the next few days and felt confident enough to try. Of course, it was the hottest day of the year, humid and ninety degrees by ten in the morning. I'd rather work on something out of the sweltering heat, but Sandy was insistent.

The barn was a dreary brown with green trim. I don't know what whoever picked those colors was thinking. Some things should conform to expectations. A barn should be bright red with white trim whenever possible.

Taping off the molding took an hour, the sun beating down the whole time. The sprayer, once I got it working, was like magic. I finished by mid-afternoon, astounded at my progress.

I was shocked I'd managed it so ably. If I wasn't trying to choose between being a chef or an accountant, I might've considered a career in barn painting. Who knew?

I spent the next two hours painting the trim bright white, transforming it all into the American classic it was meant to be. The last corner was almost done when someone nuzzled my shoulder.

It was Galahad, inspecting my work. Sandy left the dutch doors into the stalls open in anticipation of the day's heat, fans turned on high in the barn to keep the horses cool but allowing them to go outside if they wished. Galahad had been chilling in his stall all day, enjoying the breeze and eating hay. He emerged periodically and watched me work before retreating back inside.

"What do you think, Galahad?" I asked. "Your home looks pretty sharp, huh?"

He didn't answer me. He just stared at the barn for a moment before returning to his stall.

I showered, dressed, and was prepping dinner when I heard Sandy's car. I went out to greet her, waiting for her reaction.

She stopped in her tracks. "The barn. It's so red! I can't believe it only took a day."

"Neither can I."

"Incredible. I knew you could do it, baby."

Sandy reached into her car and pulled out a multitude of shopping bags. "I went a little crazy."

I took a few of the bags and helped carry them inside. "How was the spa?"

"I'm a new woman." Sandy sat on the couch. "And here you were outside in this heat slaving away."

"That's why you're paying me. Now I have to get back to cooking dinner."

"You take such good care of me."

"I like taking good care of you."

After dinner we sat in the living room, drinking glasses of dry white wine. Sandy showed me the new clothes she'd bought. There were tops and pants, a few pairs of shorts, one bright blue dress, and a few pairs of shoes. I also noticed blue denim overalls.

"What are these?" I asked.

"Those? Just an extra pair of overalls."

"When do I get to see you in those?"

"Really?"

"Yeah."

She laughed "The slutty farm girl thing, huh? Okay, I can do that."

"Good."

She got to the last bag and stopped. "You know, I think I'd like to model this one for you."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I'll call you when I'm ready," she said, leaving the room with the bag.

I sipped my wine, imagining what she could be putting on.

"Baby, you can come up anytime you're ready," she called from upstairs a few minutes later.

I didn't go charging up. I finished my wine and climbed the steps with deliberate slowness. I wanted her to wait and to wonder, eager for my reaction. To ponder how I'll look at her while she basks in her glorious sexual power.

She was in there now. Waiting for me. Hearing my footsteps on the stairs. Knowing I was on my way.

The door to her room was ajar, a strange shadowy light beyond. I pushed it open and stepped within.

Several lit candles were placed around the edge of the room. As many as a dozen. Sandy had drawn the curtains and the candles were the only source of illumination in the room. They bathed Sandy in their flickering light.

Sandy stood by the bed, one hand on a thrust-out hip. Her hair was down and fell over part of her face.

It was the new nightie which drew my attention, though, light blue and made of see-through lace. A matching pair of panties was visible underneath. The delightful outline of her tits could also be seen through the translucent fabric.

On her face was an expression of feigned aloofness. She looked away, posing herself artfully.

In a playful mood, are we? Okay. I approached, meeting her silence with my own. The candlelight shimmered across her, shadow and light dancing. It was rhythmic, almost hypnotic.

I placed a finger under her chin and turned her face to mine. She kept up the pretended indifference, but only barely. The corners of her mouth quivered as she tried to suppress a grin. It was cute as hell.

I motioned for her to turn around and she did so, first stretching her arms up towards the ceiling. She inhaled deeply, her breasts rising as she turned and rocked her hips back and forth.

Sandy glanced over her shoulder and licked her lips. She opened her mouth, ever so slightly, but plenty to draw me in. I stepped closer and she shifted her body towards me, her wet lips reflecting in the candlelight. I inched nearer, still not touching her but close. So close.

We stared into each other's eyes. Sandy slid her tongue across her lower lip, tracing her tongue along its edge with tortuous leisure. Unhurried, she licked her top lip again. Both lips glistened, her tongue still moving around them in the fluttering light of the candles. She bit her lower lip.

It was too much. I've never longed to kiss a mouth more, and I did. It was like a dam burst, how we went from teasing each with our silent proximity to falling into a frenzied embrace.

Our mouths were locked, lips and tongues engaged in a frantic dance. Sandy's hands explored my body, pushing my shirt up and over my head followed by my shorts.

I was down to my boxers but Sandy wasn't satisfied. She yanked my boxers down to my knees and over my calves. I stepped out of them and she grabbed my cock, stroking it.

Sandy's hands ran up my arms and across my chest. They roamed up to my shoulders and neck. I could tell she took pleasure in my body, in feeling my lean musculature. It made me feel sexy as hell.

She drew closer, kissing my neck and then my mouth. Our tongues twirled and we pulled each other tight. Our hands criss-crossed each other's bodies, exploring freely as our groins pushed against each other grinding in rhythm. The tip of my cock rubbed against her pubic patch.

I needed her naked. I wanted the feel of her bare skin against mine. Nothing between us. No barriers.

I pushed her panties halfway down, reaching inside and squeezing her ass cheeks. I pushed them down further and she wiggled out of them.

Next went the nightie, quickly casting it aside. Sandy was naked at last.

We resumed kissing, mouths locked, arms around one another, and candlelight glimmering over our nude forms. We melted into each other, moaning as we made out. We were two animals desperate to mate, to possess each other. To merge.

Sandy kissed my neck and bit my earlobe. Waves of ecstasy radiated outward, across my torso, growing in intensity as she nibbled.

She kissed me again and whispered in my ear. "Time to suck your cock."

Sandy dropped to her knees and jerked my cock a few times, pointing it upwards and licking down its entire length. I let out a contented moan as she took me into her mouth. She sucked me hard and rough, her teeth scraping the underside of my dick.

I thrust my hips towards her face in time with her sucking, one of her hands grasping the base of my shaft and the other massaging my balls.

I could've exploded in her mouth given another minute, but Sandy was adept at sensing when I was ready to cum and at slowing me down. "You want to cum, don't you?"

"Hell yes."

"You're going to have to fuck my pussy if you want to cum."

Sandy stood, jerking my wet cock, and gave me a wet, open-mouthed kiss. I returned her kiss with fevered enthusiasm. Why do I love kissing her so much right after she's sucked my cock?

Sandy withdrew and went over to the nightstand. She tossed me a condom and fished around and took out a small green device resembling a large rubber ring which she slipped her finger into. What's this?

She smiled at me, arching her eyebrows. I put on the condom, sliding it onto my erection as Sandy crawled into bed. She lay on her back, her head and shoulders resting on pillows and her legs spread wide.

She touched something on the device and a gentle whirr sounded forth.

A vibrator? Interesting. "You got yourself a little toy."

"This is my little pal."

She pressed the vibrator to her clit and moaned. After our conversation last week, I understood why she added the toy and it was fine. More than fine, my horny babe playing with her toy. Working that clit while I pounded her pussy hard.

The way I saw it, I was a mountain climber and Sandy's orgasm was the summit. I didn't care how we got there so long as it got reached. If special equipment was involved as we set out from Base Camp O, so much the better.

I climbed into bed while Sandy worked her clit with the vibrator, already moaning loud. It was mesmerizing, Sandy running the vibrator over her clit in a circular motion. She was already breathing heavily.

I slid a finger into her pussy. She was soaked with arousal and my finger slid in easily. I fingerfucked her steadily and she kept working her clit with the vibrator, moaning louder and breathing deeper as it went on. With every breath, her full tits rose upwards.

"Oh fuck," she moaned. "Please fuck me. Fuck me, baby. Put your dick inside me."

Can't say no to that. I ripped open the condom wrapper and rolled it onto my erection. I got into position, Sandy taking her hand off her clit long enough to guide me towards her pussy.

I pushed the tip of my cock into her, backed off, and worked it in deeper. She was so drenched I slid the whole length inside her with ease. Sandy's eyes widening and her moaning increasing. I propped myself up on my arms and fucked her slow.

"Fuck me faster, baby," she squealed. "Fuck me faster."

I increased my speed and kept at it. She pressed the vibrator against her clit and moaned. "I'm gonna fucking cum. Oh, fuck!"

Sandy's eyes clenched shut. She was howling as loud as I'd ever heard her, a quivering mass of moaning orgasm underneath me. I pounded her pussy throughout while her screams and the omnipresent buzz of the vibrator filled the air.

I kept drilling her, eager for my own relief.

"What do you want, baby?" She said. "How do you want to cum?"

"I want to cum on your tits."

"Go for it!" Sandy grinned. "Squirt all over them!"

I gave her several vigorous thrusts, pulled out, and peeled off the condom. I positioned myself over her tits, spitting in my hand to lube up my dick, jerking it hard while Sandy contributed encouragement.

She grabbed her tits, squeezing them and pointing her nipples towards me. "That's it, baby, cum on these D-cups!"

Fuck, yeah, I will. Her words had me on the edge of orgasm in no time. My dick tingled with the rapid approach of orgasm and I jerked off faster.

Sandy pinched her nipples and licked her lips, moaning. "Spray that cum on my tits! Squirt all over them, baby!"

No holding back now, not anymore. The wave of pleasure rose to a peak as my orgasm arrived with a sudden burst of happy relief. My dick throbbed, a series of pulses in swift succession sending bursts of wet cum shooting onto her tits. I jerked it a few more times, a pair of smaller squirts hitting their mark.

I stroked myself gently, extracting lingering happy twitches out of my cock until they were all gone.

I lay on the bed beside her and we kissed. It was gentle and tender, the kiss of satisfied lovers. Warm and content.

***

Damn. It was even hotter than yesterday. I was out by the front of the workshop already drenched in sweat. It was eleven and already a hundred degrees.

At least relief was on the horizon. The forecast was for major storms in the evening which were supposed to cool things off. Good. They couldn't arrive fast enough.

I had bigger problems than the heat. Sandy was worried about the power going out due to the storm and wanted me to fix her generator. Of course, I knew nothing of the art and science of generator repair.

"It doesn't want to start for some reason," she said. "We're on well water out here. If the power goes out, we won't even have running water. It needs to start."

"I'll take a look."

"Do more than look."

I'd zero experience fixing things with engines. Dad's not a car guy so I never learned anything motor-related beyond checking oil or tire pressure. Growing up, we paid people for anything more complicated than that.

Now Sandy was tasking me with figuring out why an engine wouldn't start. Where to even begin?

I wheeled the generator out of Sandy's workshop and got to work. I followed the directions in the owner's manual, priming it and turning up the choke. I pulled on the cord repeatedly but the engine wouldn't kick in. What the hell was wrong with this thing?

Sandy hadn't run it in a while and a google search told me the fuel had likely gone bad. I'd have to drain the gas and maybe clean the carburetor.

I sat staring at the infernal thing, sweat pouring down my forehead. I wanted to say to hell with it, but failing Sandy was not an option. Out of the question.

Long story short, I got through the process, a sweaty mess by the time I was done.

I put some fresh gas in the tank and went through the starting procedure again. Nothing happened after the first two pulls but it roared to life on the third. Yes!

When Sandy heard the rumble of the motor, she stepped out of the shop and cast me a knowing smile. "What'd I tell you? I knew you'd figure it out."

Sandy walked off looking satisfied with herself. What was she up to? First the insistence on painting the barn and now this?

If I didn't know better I'd say she was deliberately testing me, but that made no sense at all.

***

I cooked dinner while Sandy talked with her daughter in the living room over skype. She made time every day to talk to her. I took care to be quiet, my existence nothing her daughter needed to know about at present.

I was plating harissa-marinated chicken thighs as Sandy said goodbye and entered the kitchen.

"Hey." I turned towards her. "Dinner's ready."

"That's good." Her eyes were moist.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine. I miss Jess so much. It's so fucking tough."

I gave her a hug and she buried her face in my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. She clung to me and stayed there. Hold onto me as long as you need, babe. As long as you need.

"Thank you," she said when she let go. "That helped. Isn't it amazing the many things a hug can accomplish?"

We ate dinner, talking about our days. She and Manuel had finished another piece, a hutch bound for a home store up in Nyack that she hoped would carry more of her pieces.

After dinner I went out to the barn with her and helped settle the horses in for the night.

"Have you ever ridden a horse, James?" she asked me as she poured grain into their buckets.

"One time in middle school."

"One time? Yeah, we're gonna have to correct that. Maybe tomorrow evening. It's supposed to be cooler, after the storm. You can get on Galahad."

The big one? "What about Guinevere?"

"Trust me. You don't want to deal with her mare attitude. She'll sense your fear and you'll be screwed. Galahad's perfect for you."

I turned towards Galahad in his stall. Goddamn, that was one gigantic horse.

"Go easy on me buddy, okay?" I whispered to him, scratching his neck. "I'll slip you extra carrots when I can. Deal?"

Once more, he didn't answer me.

Sandy finished getting the horses in for the evening in preparation for the storm. They had plenty of hay and water and were chomping on their evening grain when we headed back to the house.

The sun had just set as we heard the first distant peels of thunder. I opened the weather app on my phone. A series of storms had formed from the Hudson Valley all the way to Maryland. We were right in the middle, some of the strongest ones headed right for us. "Here we go."

Next came loud bursts of thunder and flashes of lightning, the wind kicking up and the first drops of rain falling. The thunder grew louder, several booms sounding like bombs going off.

The rain started coming down harder while Sandy comforted Günther who had retreated to his bed. "It's okay. Poor boy."

I stepped out onto the front porch to watch the rain. The porch was well sheltered, at least ten feet deep.

As the rain came down in sheets, Sandy appeared at my side with two glasses of white wine. I took one and she held my hand, resting her head on my shoulder. She'd changed into a summer dress with thin shoulder straps and a pink floral pattern. She wasn't wearing a bra and I suspected she had something in mind.

We sipped our wine and watched the storm from the couch on the porch--another of Sandy's custom pieces, as it happened--and cuddling on its cushions. A bright flash of lightning appeared, followed by the expected crack of thunder a few seconds later.

"Damn," I said. "This is a powerful one."

Sandy placed her hand on my knee and she kissed me. "I had the wildest idea."

"What's that?"

"Let's do it out here on the porch. Right on the couch."

"During the storm?"

"Why not? I've always wanted to have sex outside. What do you say?"

I placed my glass on the small end table to my left and kissed her. "I say why the hell not."

We made out, kissing with growing passion as I massaged her boobs. I kissed her neck and her shoulder, too, the strap of her dress slipping off.