The Filly & The Stud Ch. 02

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A match made to last, or a fling to be forgotten?
13.6k words
4.7
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Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 11/03/2005
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When she stepped off the elevator and slowly walked down the hallway towards her office it was something of a revelation as to what being a marathon runner actually meant. Because apparently it did not mean that you had strong legs.

She felt more than knew that she was walking bow legged, and despite her best efforts at rolling her shoulders back and walking upright, she was pretty sure that her bent over position might be permanent now. If this is what a weekend of never ending sex did to you, then the movies could have it! Not really.

She waved to the receptionist at the counter, turned right, and stepped into her space, dropping into the huge leather chair. It had been a present, two years ago, from another man who had entered her life, tried to leave his mark, and then departed the holding pattern when something more willing came along. But it was a good chair, nonetheless. Stretching her legs out, she closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, and letting it all wash over her one last time.

Sure it had seemed like a good idea to let him stay over, and the fact that they did not go to sleep until the sun was starting to show in the east again would not normally have bothered her. She did not think of herself as old, she could hang, and she could write her own book on positions now too, or maybe a website, in this day and age, after all just about every piece of furniture in her bedroom had become a prop for her to take it from him, rather like a badly edited scene from "Sex in the City." The man was like the energizer bunny, he just kept going, and going, and going.

Breakfast in bed had been rather fun, something that she now realized had been missing from a lot of her relationships lately in life. He mostly feed her, explaining that he was not much of a breakfast eater at noon, then put it up her ass again, making her scream with pleasure and pain, before they showered. She did suck him off, and for the first time, a man came on her face. Then he picked her up, and screwed her against the tile walls. Maybe he was ordering Viagra from Canada, or stealing his uncle's Cialis.

The most clothing she had worn yesterday had been a robe and high heels, and the robe had been only because she had a rather low cut satin affair, that he had approved after much begging on her knees with his dick in her mouth. He enjoyed having power over her, that much was clear, and she enjoyed him dominating her, she had discovered, much to her surprise. He had cooked dinner for her with what he found in her house, and then made love to her on the dining room table, another new experience. It had been slow and soft, with a lot of kissing and touching, almost like a trance, until she had exploded in a series of orgasm that had left her weak and incoherent, being carried to her bedroom, where he toyed with her all night. It wasn't until early in the morning today that he had slipped from her bed, made her breakfast, and then disappeared.

So, she asked herself, what exactly had happened? She had enjoyed more sex in the last seventy two hours than probably the whole previous year, all provided by the most skilled lover she had ever encountered, and for the first time from somebody she had not dated for some time prior to hopping into bed with him. But once they had done it on Friday, it had seemed only natural to keep that trend going.

"You coming?" Stella was leaning in the door, and the look on her face made it clear that she expected a full report on the activities that had occurred since last seeing one another, as they walked over to the other tower for the staff meeting.

"I guess I have to." Jennifer hated staff meetings, but she rose, grabbed her notebook, and followed her friend out into the hallway. "You would not believe me if I told you. I'll tell you over lunch, I'm still working it out in my head."

"You're walking funny. He must have wore you out."

"Tell me about it."

So Stella was patient until they were joined by Maggie at the table situated outside, underneath the massive shade providing umbrella's at Dean & DeLuca, each of them nibbling on their salad or sandwich, two of them expectantly staring at the third, until she finally relented.

"He didn't leave until this morning."

"Really?" Maggie had been born in the south, raised in the south, and lived in the south all her life. She talked like it, thought like it, and when she went to church on Sunday, walked like it. The fact that she had married a black man, even a running back in the NFL, was so scandalous that everything she said with any type of seriousness was a joke.

"Yes, really. It was great. He cooked for me, and I can now say that I've had sex in every room of my house, all in one day."

"That's sick." Despite having been named Mrs. Charlotte, and having come out the winner in a head-to-head vote between her and Ms. Charlotte, conducted by the local independent newspaper, Stella was a bit of a prude. Her husband was an engineer with Duke Power by trade, and that fit very well with her world view.

"I thought it was rather enjoyable."

"I bet!" Maggie looked impressed, and they both knew that the blond was trying to remember if there were any rooms in her house she had not had sex in yet. There probably were, Jacob had just recently purchased them a monster of a McMansion out on the lake.

The two had meet when she rear-ended him at a red light, destroying the bumper of his Escalade with her Jeep. Yet he had somehow been so smitten with the freaked out blond that he had not asked for her insurance, but her phone number. On the first date she had told him that she dreamed of a big house on the lake, a boat, vacationing in foreign countries, kids, and a Porsche. She had woken up to the Porsche the next morning, and they had been working on the kids ever since. He had even renamed the boat he already owned in her honor.

"Well anyways...I guess I'll stop by today and see him. If you guys haven't eaten at DiMaggio's yet, that new place downtown, I can recommend it."

"Wow, he went all out, or did you pay?"

"He paid." She shrugged. Jennifer had accepted along time ago that the number of single men in the state of North Carolina that made more then her was rapidly shrinking, and she was not above paying. But it had never come up.

"Impressive. Maybe being a ranch hand pays well."

"Maybe he wanted to get laid, and so he pulled out all the stops." Stella was never above raining on anybodies parade.

"If that's all he wanted, all he had to do was show up."

"Jesus, you are a little slut, aren't you?" Maggie shook her head, a huge grin on her face.

"Maybe. For the right guy, anyway."

But first she had to say hello to the right horse, so she headed to the horse farm after work, and walked back into the dim barn, over to the pen. "You know...I'm sorry I didn't spend more time with you the other day. But something...came up. I really apologize. But I'll make it up to you today!" Jennifer petted the horse gently, running her hand down her mane, trying to console her like a guilty lover with bribes of apples and sugar cubes.

"I took care of her." David walked into the barn, took her into his arms, and laid it on her. The kiss made her swoon, and she clutched him tight, kissing him back, until they broke for air.

"I've been meaning to ask you...you said you'd been thinking for a while on how to get into my pants..."

"I'd been plotting for about two weeks. Journey took, by the way, so you'll have your horse. I thought that if the whole getting you outside and working you up didn't work, then maybe having groomed and prepped your horse would, and you might give it up to me."

"Is that all you wanted?"

"Well, let's see..." he smiled, then kissed her again, taking a step back. "This is...a bit awkward for me. I've never been in a relationship like this before without having dated the person for a bit. You ok with me calling it a relationship?"

"What is it to you?"

"I guess I can't play this game with somebody that went to school for it."

Now it was her turn to smile, and then kiss him. "Not really. Just tell me what you think, I've got the G2 to figure it out."

His head visibly jerked at the military term, but she had dropped it on purpose. He slowly rolled his head from side to side, emitting two loud pops. He smiled at her mention of knowing a good chiropractor, then took her into his arms and kissed her again.

"So there I am...discharged from the Navy because my knees and back are messed up beyond belief, stumbling around. So my uncle, kind man that he is, offers me a job to give me something to do with all this energy and anger I have, and wow, this is a great place! Until you walk in."

He paused, kissing her soft lips, and cradling her in his arms. She had discovered that she was a big fan of these arms, the way they seemed to envelop her as they slept, the way they shielded her from the outside, creating a cocoon of protection and safety for her. "You are so gorgeous, so beautiful, and so damn smart. Wow. The perfect woman. Everything a man dreams of and I just want to touch you, to feel you, to taste you. But what am I going to say to you? What can a twenty-six year old kid offer a gorgeous and successful woman in her thirties? Well, the answer is sex. So I came up with a plan to seduce you, and it worked I'm pretty proud to say. But now I'm in this somewhat unpleasant situation of wanting to be with you, but having no leg to stand on."

"Why do you say that?"

"I just did."

"You think you have nothing to offer me?"

"Call it juvenile insecurity."

"I'll call it silly." She kissed him, pulling him close again. "You ever been with an older woman?"

"Yes. Ever been with a younger guy?"

"No." She hadn't thought that far ahead. "But the point at hand is that you are an amazing young man. And you don't have to feel bad. You aren't going to marry me tomorrow. We'll see what happens. You make me happy, and you provide amazing sex, which I've been in need of lately."

"What a sweet little girl. You want to change; I'll saddle her up for you?"

The impression on the pillow was slowly fading, but the heat from his body remained, and she could feel it as she ran her hand across the sheets. Last night had been slower, much slower than the times he had been with her before. He had followed her home, lit a fire for her in her fireplace, which she almost never used, drawn a bubble bath for her, and stripped her naked. The massage that followed was heavenly, as well as the experience of being in the tub, getting washed by his strong hands, and then getting to relax with a glass of wine as he went to make her dinner.

She wore what she now called "his robe", for him again and sat on his lap, letting herself get cared for, fed, caressed, and kissed all through dinner. When he took her to the couch and parted the satin, it was a moment she had been waiting for all night, and one that seemed to last for hours. It had been the most unhurried, unrushed, relaxed, just plain enjoyable sexual connection of her life, just the two of them, watched wearily from the stairs by her cats, making love on the couch, slowly, tenderly, over and over and over.

She could smell the oatmeal he had prepared her, almost taste the milk and orange juice sitting next to it on the tray along with the folded napkin, the single multi vitamin tablet that she took every day, and half a bagel with cream cheese. He was an attentive young man, and when she had told him her normal breakfast routine, she was sure that he had prepared it before rushing back to the farm to do his morning work. What an interesting young pup.

"So did I promise too much, or what?" Angie took a long pull from her Daiquiri, the straw changing colors as the cold slush passed through. She looked good for a woman of her age, all dressed up in the hot pink bikini and sunglasses, lying out next to her pool.

"What do you mean?"

"I told you that young men are incredible lovers."

"Yes, you did."

"And he's being rocking your world for how long now?"

"Almost two months."

"See."

"Yes, I see. No, you did not promise too much."

Jennifer stretched, let out a yawn, and then took a sip from her own drink, in this case a bottle of water. It was too hot and too early to be drinking. "I just wish he would relax, and stop worrying already. It's kind of silly at this point. He is a bit anxious about the fact that I make so much more money than him, and all that."

"I told you last year you would never get a husband as long as you make more than the president of this great country."

"Thanks for the advice mom. Jesus, men are so shallow."

"He's young, give him time."

A downside to the strong health care and banking industry in Charlotte is that the city is strongly isolated from the dips and shakes of the regular economy. Sure, some of the northern parts, focused on light manufacturing and the convergence of rail, interstate, and air traffic were not so lucky, but the areas generally south of uptown did not concern themselves with such matters.

Over here, Southpark Mall had undergone surgery over years to become one of the most upscale shopping areas in the southeast, and high-class boutique shops and restaurants flourished. Right across the street, the most handsomely decorated of all Harris Teeters gave off the impression of being a celebrity grocery store, with hardwood floors, wine consultants, and live, soft piano music.

That was his first stop, and he felt instantly uncomfortable in the place. There were women pushing baby strollers with prominent "LV" logos, and it was pretty clear that if you did not drive a foreign car manufactured in the last two years, you should probably park in the back, or better yet, go shop somewhere else. After all, how many grocery stores have valet parking?

But, it being Harris Teeter, the flowers he got were of good quality and reasonable price. Despite all the trimmings, the place was what it was, and that was a chain store, with controlled prices and some high school chick at the check out line, smiling at the hunk in the tight t-shirt. "Hot date?"

"The hottest." He gave her a warm smile, then walked back outside, and hopped back on the Harley.

Turning left out of the parking lot, he roared down the street, hung a right, and came up the hill to the light that let him turn into Phillips Place, another spot that had suffered the wrath of Charlotte's developers, supported generously by Wachovia and Bank of America. You could buy $500 shoes here, with handbags to match, and discuss whether your yacht should be blue or white at the appropriate consultancy. There was even a high-class movie theater, which always made him want to scratch his head.

He found the restaurant with no problem, and pulled right up. The kid working the valet spot just looked at him, so he asked the obvious question.

"You guys don't park hogs?"

"Ahhh...no!" Nobody can give attitude like a teenager, and David had a sudden urge to slap the kid senseless, but he spotted the purple CL, so he pulled forward, then backed into the sliver of ground between it and the curb, one of those spaces that's not really a parking spot, but since they messed up the curb measurements, they draw the line anyway.

"You can't park there." Attitude-boy was not yet done.

"Say's who?"

"You can't!" He shrugged his shoulders, as if that was it.

"I tell you what kid. If I come back from dinner with my lovely lady friend, and something has happened to my bike, I'm going to break your arms off, beat you to within an inch of your life with them, stuff one down your throat and one up your ass so that you can shake your own hand, and punt you into traffic. Any part of that you didn't understand?"

Color seemed to be needed elsewhere, as none of it could be found in the face of the young man, who was only nodding slowly. David seemed satisfied with those results, patting him on the shoulder as he walked past, still holding his flowers, and feeling a bit ridiculous now.

Walking inside, it was clear that once again his sense of fashion had failed him. His khaki pants were clean and heavily ironed and starched, but they probably did not mesh with the rest of the customers. Neither did the simple black t-shirt containing his muscular chest, with the EOD emblem, and his nickname emblazoned on the chest. It was a dress t-shirt, he had reasoned earlier.

"You must be David." The woman's smile was about a mile wide, and those gleaming teeth could blind somebody. She either had awesome genes and perfect hygiene, or could afford the really good treatments. He was betting on the latter as she pulled close, he could detect a faint hint of cigarette. There was something perfect about the smile, something that said she rehearsed it in front of a mirror so that she could flip it on like a light, and extinguish it when she was done.

"Yeah..."

"I'm Brenda, Jennifer's friend." They shook hands, then she lead him into the actual dinning room, past those waiting by the Maitre'D. Peons.

The woman talked incessantly, gushing about what a great person Jennifer was, and how happy she was to see her with a "handsome young man" like him, and how her friend was just so happy all the time now, which she blamed entirely on him. He thanked her as graciously as he could, and they finally arrived at the booth in the back.

Jennifer stood, and smiled at the flowers, letting him take her into his arms, leaning into the offered kiss. He tasted and felt her tongue, the feeling always having the same effect on him, and he did not want to let her go. But fucking her on the table right here was probably not in good form.

They slipped into the booth, and she kissed him again, thanking him for the flowers as he pulled her close. "You always hang out at places like this?"

"You don't like it?"

"It's nice...you could have told me how fancy it is." He kissed her this time, indicating the room with his head.

"Oh." She smiled a smile of embarrassment, and then kissed him. "I usually just come here after work, so I guess I never noticed it. Sorry. We can..."

"It's fine. You claim the food is so great, let's order."

He picked up the menu, and thought he would have a heart attack. Who the hell paid thirty dollars for a damn appetizer? That appetizer better come with a hot stock tip and a chick with big tits popping out of a scandalously small bikini to feed it to you! He told her so, and she giggled.

"I told you, it's my turn to take you out. And yes, get an appetizer; the portions are a bit small for a man of your appetite."

"You're kidding, right?" He actually seemed depressed now. He probably got along with horses so well because he ate like one, constantly, and in large quantities.

"No."

She giggled at the look on his face, and he could think of nothing else to do but pull her in close, and kiss her, long and hard, making her moan. "You are going to get it hard later on."

"I can't wait."

"You going to come and see Journey later on? You can feel the foal in her, and she's calmed down a lot."

"I guess I might have to."

"See if I can practice putting a foal in my little filly." He bit her neck, and she giggled before looking into his eyes, kissing him. He felt a serious moment coming on, so he kissed her again, and pointed to the menu. "You sure this is okay?"

"Jesus, just order."

But before they got to that part, a shadow fell over the table, and they both looked up at the tall man who had stepped into what David clearly considered personal space. He looked up at the smiling man, and instantly decided that he could take him, always the first judgment he made on people when he encountered them.

"Jennifer, how have you been?" But tall guy simply ignored the young man, beaming at the blond.