Content advisory: m/f sex, oral sex
This is the final installment of the on-going serial about a working dude ranch specializing in prize Morgan horses and wild times with horny guests.
Griffin Anderson pulled on his boots and headed to the barn for his last check on the horses before he called it a night. He enjoyed his nightly ritual. The scent of the stable and the animals were pleasant and the soft whinnies of greeting from his favorite horses always brought a smile. It was a nice way to wrap up a day.
He loved the ranch and the horses. It was a fine way to live. Most of their guests came from cities and didn’t know what they were missing. Griffin couldn’t imagine living amid all the concrete coldness that passed for urban life. He was a farm boy and proud of it.
He sauntered over the freshly mown lawn. The smell of fresh clipped grass was almost as pleasing as the stable. Overhead, the stars were mostly obscured by building clouds and in the distance a flash of lightning warned of a coming storm.
Griffin loved storms. The louder and more dramatic, the better. He loved the light show and the crack of thunder. He loved the sound of a downpour pelting the windows and the roof.
The big sliding door had been left open to keep the breeze moving through the stable, but he would shut it after his rounds since a storm was rolling in. He stepped into the dimly lit interior. There was no need to turn on the main bank of lights. His vision was excellent and the few that were lit cast more than enough illumination. He walked slowly down the shed-row, stopping at various stalls to pat silky necks and offer a scratch behind the ears of his favorites.
The shed-rows consisted of stalls lining the outer walls and back to back stalls in the center to maximize barn space. The walkway formed a flattened U. Big sliding doors opened off both ends. He walked around the top and started down the other side when he came to an abrupt halt.
Chris Masters stood at the last stall where a mare and her two-day old foal were stalled. Chris stroked the mare’s nose and appeared to be talking to her. Chris was drop-dead beautiful and Griffin had been trying to work up the stones to approach her all week. He’d given up on catching her alone. Now it seemed that he might get the opportunity after all.
Not wanting to startle her but knowing he was going to, Griffin said, “Hey, Chris, you like the mare?”
She jumped then laughed. “You scared me. I thought it was just me and the horses.”
“It was. But I come down here every night to check on the animals before I turn in. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“It’s okay. It’s a byproduct of living in a city where you have to watch your back at all hours.”
“I’m glad I live here in the country.”
“Don’t blame you. It’s so beautiful here and I love the horses. My parents always sent me to horse camp when I was a kid. I think I was trying to recapture some of that.”
He joined her at the stall gate. “And did you?”
“No. It’s all different now.”
“I know what you mean. Life is so special when you’re a kid. It’s that once around joy that you can never quite get back once it’s gone.”
“Innocence lost?”
“Maybe. I dunno. Life has that magical quality when you’re a child. Adulthood wears it off and tarnishes what’s left behind.”
“There’s a lot of truth in that.” She sighed. “Pity isn’t it?”
“In ways. But life has its joys for us grownups, too.”
“True. Sometimes you just have to dig a bit before you find it.” She gave him a smile that rivaled the brilliant lightning flash outside.
“It’s going to storm. I’m going to close up the barn. You’re welcome to stay down here, just shut the door when you leave.”
A deafening clap of thunder made the mare, the foal, and Chris jump.
“I think you’re going to be staying with me unless you want to get drenched. Listen,” she said.
The roar of heavy, fast approaching rain grew steadily louder and then burst loose. Griffin had just hit paydirt. “I’m not going out in that. Tell you what, the barn manager’s apartment is vacant. Let’s wait it out in there. We can have coffee. If you want some.”
“Sure. That sounds better than sitting on a hay bale for heaven only knows how long.”
They walked side by side up to the other end of the barn and Griffin located the key hidden under a heavy pickle crock that the former manager had added for decoration and a place to hide the spare key. He opened the door and flipped on the light. “Come on in. It’s cozy in here.” He held the door for her.
She slipped past him and her perfume tickled his senses. He had no idea what it was but it sure smelled good on her. He had an instant visual of her entwined with him in the barn manager’s bed and getting that lovely scent all over him. His cock perked right up at the image his mind had cooked up.
“Have a seat. I’ll brew us up some coffee. There’s always some brand or other in here in case someone wants a cup.”
“Sweet,” she said. “I like a manager who is prepared.”
“Too bad he wasn’t as prepared when it come to regular ranch work.”
“Oh, you fired him?”
“Didn’t have to. He slunk out in the middle of the night about two weeks ago after he got his paycheck. It appears that he had a severe work allergy.”
“At least he left the apartment clean,” Chris said as she poked around before planting herself on the loveseat.
“No. He didn’t. My sister cleaned this place from top to bottom.”
“Figures. Sure you don’t want me to do that?” she said.
“I got it. I make a mean cup of joe.” He dumped in the coffee and started the brew cycle.
“I overheard one of your brothers saying you guys were going to a big show this weekend.”
“Yeah, we’re taking eight horses. I think we will do well.”
“Looks like you have in the past. I saw the trophy case. Very impressive.”
“Thanks. In this business you have to prove your animals are worth the asking price. I know we operate as a dude ranch, but the horses are a good part of our income.”
“Nice way to make a living. I’m envious.”
“I couldn’t imagine any other way of life.”
As he poured their coffee, Chris stood and went to investigate an old fashioned looking radio. She tuned in an old ‘60s station. “I love these old songs.”
He brought the coffee over as the Righteous Brothers’ Unchained Melody began.
“Will you dance with me?” she asked. “I love this song.”
She didn’t have to ask twice. He set the cups on the coffee table and drew her into his arms. She felt right in his hold. As they swayed to the lovely song, they moved as if they’d been partners for years instead of virtual strangers.
“You dance divinely,” she said.
“Thank you. So do you.”
“I had lessons.”
“So did I. Much to my brothers’ mortification,” he said and laughed. “When I was a kid, I pestered my parents until they enrolled me in ballroom dancing lessons.”
“That’s funny.”
“Not at the time. My brothers teased me mercilessly because I wanted to do something they thought was beneath a country boy.”
“Well, you were obviously a good student and they were a pack of fools for teasing you.”
She smelled so damn good and she was soft in all the right places. Then she fitted herself a little closer to him. In a maneuver to keep her from coming into contact with his appreciative cock which had assumed a half-mast state, he repositioned them into a more formal stance.
“What’s the matter, trying to hide what’s going on in your Levi’s?” she asked.
“Well. . .yes, if you really want to know. It seems Mr. Happy is enjoying himself immensely, and he’s trying to make your acquaintance in a most embarrassing way.
She laughed so hard she pressed her face into his shoulder.
As he was on the verge of taking offence, she straightened up and with a grin on her face, pressed herself full into Mr. Happy. He quirked an eyebrow and made no move to put space between them. If she wanted to feel his cock, who was he to stop her?
“I noticed you watching me all week. I waited for you to make a move.”
“You weren’t down here to look at horses, were you?” he asked.
“No. I love them. But I wasn’t here for a horseback ride.”
Here he was with a woman obviously interested and he didn’t have his wallet with him. Which meant he didn’t have a condom. Shit.
“Are you here for a bareback ride? Because you caught me off guard.”
“No rubber, huh?”
“Unfortunately not.”
She released him with one arm and dug in her back pocket. She withdrew a small foil packet. “I was afraid of that.” She held the condom up. “How about it, Griffin? Want to fuck? It’s my last night here and I want to go home with something to remember.”
Another song came on and they kept swaying to the music.
He chuckled and said, “But you came prepared. Apparently there are some things you don’t want to take home to remember me by. Don’t worry. I don’t have anything.”
“You may not have anything—and neither do I—but I don’t need you sending me home with something to tie us together for the next eighteen years.”
“No pill?”
“Nope.”
“Not a problem. We’re covered.” He took the condom from her and dropped it on the little table. His hands roamed down her back and caressed her firm ass and then drew her into tighter contact with his cock. Their swaying bodies created wonderful friction on his length.
Her hands crept into his hair and twisted into the strands. Griffin bent his head and pressed his lips to hers in a soft kiss. He ran his tongue along her lower lip, seeking entrance. She parted for him with a soft moan and he plunged into her mouth. She tasted of cinnamon and brown sugar as if she’d indulged in one of the cook’s delectable pastries.
He licked along her tongue in slow sensuous strokes and then she pushed into his mouth, conducting her own exploration. One of her hands left his hair and ran down his body, over his chest to his abdomen, past his navel, ground zero. Her hand rubbed over the bulge in his jeans then settled there.
Griffin groaned and thrust his hips forward, seeking more contact with her warm hand. She got on board with the idea and unzipped his jeans. Her fingers slipped inside the opening and wrapped around his cock.
“My goodness,” she said and explored along his length. “Some good DNA in your family.”
He laughed and rocked his hips slightly, sliding along her palm. Her nails gently ran over his skin and sent very pleasant sensations rippling through his dick.
Overhead thunder crashed and the lights flickered. “Uh oh,” he said. “Give me one sec, in case the power goes out.” After she retrieved her hand, he gathered up a half dozen candles, kept for the very reason he wanted them, and lit the wicks. He took them into the tiny bedroom and scattered them around in what he hoped was an artful arrangement.
He liked the effect so much that he didn’t turn on the lamp. The candles gave plenty of light for his purposes.
He went through the doorway. “Come on back,” he said as thunder cracked again in a volley so hard that the cups rattled in the cabinet. Several horses snorted. He didn’t have to invite her twice. She followed him into the bedroom.
He pulled the handmade quilt and the sheets back and turned to face Chris. She came forward and went for the buttons on his shirt. He reached for hers but she stopped him. “No. Let me do something I’ve wanted to do all week.”
He wasn’t going to argue.
Her long slender fingers quickly worked the buttons loose. He rolled his shoulders and shrugged off the shirt. Then her hands were on his jeans again. She undid them and shoved them down his hips. Griffin kicked off his boots and then his jeans.
“Sit,” Chris said.
He plunked down on the mattress, legs spread, and Chris stepped between them. She bent and kissed him then straightened before going to her knees. She grasped his cock at the base and leaned forward.
She planted a gentle kiss on the head then her tongue appeared and fluttered over the tiny slit before brushing lightly at the ridge and swirling back over the head. A groan escaped him and his hips jutted forward. His hands fisted the sheet.
Chris glanced up, met his gaze then took a considerable amount of his length into her mouth before sliding upward with a delicate sucking sound. When she reached the peak, she lapped around the engorged head with repeated small strokes of her tongue.
“Jesus, Chris. That feels fanfuckingtatic.”
She backed off him and grinned. “Of course it does.” Then she bent back to her task. She took a good deal of him in again, stopped, then swallowed down the rest until he filled her throat. She sucked gently, slurping on his cock as she slowly eased upward.
Griffin moaned and leaned back, supporting himself on his fists.
Chris bobbed slowly, sucking his shaft as she moved upward then taking him back in until Griffin felt the warning in his lower back. “I’m gonna come,” he said.
Instead of backing off, she increased her bobbing motions until he let out a howl. She jumped back, releasing him. His orgasm ripped through him and hot jizz spurted from his cock in strong jets. His hips pumped and hot fluid sprayed his bare stomach.
“Oh my God,” he said when he finished. He pulled the sheet free and cleaned himself off. “That was fucking incredible.” After he’d wiped the last of the cum off, he grinned at her. “Okay. On the bed. My turn.”
With the music playing softly in the background and the flickering candlelight dancing off her skin, she went into a slow striptease. As she danced, she unbuttoned her blouse. No bra underneath, her breasts sprang free and she peeled the shirt off, dropping it on the floor.
She kicked off one shoe and then the other.
Then undulating slowly, she unfastened her jeans, shoved them over her hips and wiggled out of them. Black lace panties quickly joined her jeans on the floor. Nude, she continued dancing around the bed until Griffin stood and grabbed her. He pulled her up against him, and his mouth claimed hers in a hard, demanding kiss. Then he backed off. “Get on the bed. I want to taste you.”
She climbed into the middle of the mattress and drew one knee up artfully. Posing for him.
He caught a view of pink, glistening skin. Cock pulsing, he eased onto the bed and positioned between her legs. She shifted and bent the other leg, giving him a full head on view of her pussy. Tight curls shrouded the delicate, moist prize.
He ran his hands down her firm thighs, spreading them wider. Then using his thumbs, he separated her folds, exposing the little pearl he sought. He stroked one calloused thumb gently over the little bundle of nerves and a soft moan came out of her. He stroked again, adding a little pressure. She lifted her hips.
He stroked down her soft flesh until he came to the little opening and he dipped inside. She was soaking wet. He spread her moisture along her flesh, teasing the sensitive skin before going back to her clit and massaging the little bud until she squirmed and moaned under his hand.
He bent and touched his tongue to the hard little nerve center. With a little cry, she thrust her hips up, giving him a face full of pussy. He grasped her hips and gently pushed her back down on the mattress. And while holding her in place he swirled his tongue over and around the little nub until she whimpered with need. He took the little bit of flesh between his teeth and gently nibbled.
“Oh my God,” she cried and tried to pump her hips but her held her fast to the bed.
He licked slowly along her folds, tasting her sweet flavor, lapping her up. His tongue found her entrance and pushed into her. He flicked his tongue in and out of her rhythmically. She groaned and her hands pushed into his hair, tightening into fists. He tongue fucked her until she squirmed and cried out.
He glanced up and met her gaze. Then he lowered his head and nipped her clit with a fair amount of pressure.
She screamed and thrashed in his grasp. He let go, plunged two fingers inside her and pumped hard. Her hips bucked and she rode his hand. Her pussy clenched around his fingers, squeezing and releasing in a powerful orgasm. When she finally stilled and lay panting, her body damp with a sheen of sweat, he reached over her and retrieved the little foil packet. He quickly sheathed himself and climbed up over her.
He pushed slowly into her tight pussy with a groan. Her walls clasped him in a firm grip as he began a slow pump.
“Oh God, fuck me hard,” she cried and bucked under him.
Needing no further encouragement, Griffin pounded her pussy. The bed groaned under them with each powerful thrust into her heat and the springs squeaked with the tempo of his pumping hips. He drove hard, giving her everything he had until he was sweat-soaked and panting.
“Harder,” she moaned as she strained to meet his thrusts.
Griffin’s balls banged into her ass as he pounded her with his increased pace. He panted, slamming into her until the little tingle warned him of impending release. “Come on, babe. I’m gonna. . .” He thrust hard. “Come. Any minute.” He kept pumping as heat worked forward into his groin.
Thankfully, Chris let out a howl and bucked under him, sawing on his cock, which totally undid him. He erupted in strong spurts. He kept pumping but slowed as they rode out their orgasms together. When it was over, they lay in a sweating, spent heap.
“Wow,” Chris said.
“Do you think you’ll be leaving Flying Figure Ranch with something to remember?”
“Yes, cowboy. I’ll never forget my last night here.”
~ Nickie Asher ~
Copyright © 2011 Nickie Asher
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.
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