Wrangler (30 page)

Lurching my hips upward, she leans down, feeding me, and the heat of her nipple ignites the primal beast within.  I suck deep, tasting her milk as it dribbles into my mouth, thrusting my hips into her in time with each suck.

With that, she tenses, her hips shifting into a new gear as her pussy drenches my cock, sucking and pulsing in her orgasm as I swallow.

I’m done, it’s too good and it’s been too long.  Her flesh fills my mouth, capturing my groans.  With a muffled roar I release my load, shooting it up into her scorching hot canal, and I imagine myself taking root again.

I told her we could wait, but she wants another baby in her belly as soon as God will allow, and I’m a good Christian man. So, praise the Lord and hallelujah because I’m giving my woman what she wants.

Our bodies lurch and shake together, my teeth nipping at her tender flesh before I release her, both my hands finding those full hips and holding them tight on top of me. Right now all I want is for my cum to find its way home.

My dick doesn’t lose any enthusiasm, that’s for sure. He’s still dense and hard as a branding iron. I scoop her around the waist and sit up to bury my face between her tits, ready for round two.  There seems to be no part of her body I tire of.  She is my home, in every way.

“That was fast, wrangler.  I don’t think you’ve cum that fast the whole time we’ve been together.”

“It’s that magic marauder you have down there where the action happens.  Gave me no choice.  Felt like your pussy was holding a gun to my balls and demanding payment.”

The music of her laughter fills my heart.  I’m ready again, but I hear someone else start to fuss a few feet away.

“Bethany’s awake.”

I grin. “Tell her to leave some for me.”

Rachel groans as she shifts and lays down next to me, flinging an arm over her eyes.

“You just lay right there. I’ll bring her, babe.”

My girl’s a trooper. She won’t let anyone else feed Bethany, not yet.

She said maybe in a month or so. She’s got one of those pumps so she can fill some bottles and I can take a little of the burden.  That’s fine with me, but I still get up with her every feeding.  I like to pull Rachel up between my legs as we lay in bed, her leaning back into my chest so I can stroke her hair while Beth takes her nourishment. 

It makes me feel like I’m part of everything.  And I told her, if she insists on doing all the breast feeding right now, then all the diapers are mine when I’m home, and I’ve stuck to that promise.  Just like my Dove, I want to be part of every moment of my baby’s life. Everything.  Good and bad.

I hop out of bed. The floors in this big old house are the original pine from trees they harvested right here on this land, about eighty years ago.  The bassinet is white wicker, it was my mom’s.

Bethany is smiling when I lean over.  There is nothing like the sight of your own baby, smiling up at you.  This little girl has me wrapped around every finger and toe, and I know I’m already outnumbered with her and Dove.  They both know just how to work me like fresh dough.

“Hey there, baby girl.”  I slip one hand behind her head and still can’t quite get over how delicate she is.  She’s got my dark hair. Her eyes are still milky blue, but they’re the same shape as her mamma’s.  She’s got the same warm skin tone too, and just the hint of a dimple.

Holding her warm tiny body against my bare chest, I climb into the bed, and Rachel moves into position between my legs as she takes Beth from me. Then she leans back and settles that little mouth on her breast.

The sight never gets old.  I’d give up every wink of my sleep to see this.

“My beautiful girls.”

I kiss Rachel’s hair, breathing in the softness, feeling the warmth and happiness she’s brought to my life. The feelings I have now, since I met her, I hardly even dared dream of them before.

“What time do you leave?”  She turns her head and I kiss her cheek.

“I’ll head out about seven.”

I’ve got a clinic over at Roger’s place today, about two hundred spectators will be there.

“You’re going to be tired.”

“I’ll be fine, babe.  You text me every hour after I leave, okay?  Otherwise I’m going to turn around and head right back here.”

Since Beth came home, I can’t seem to go an hour without hearing from my Dove, or I start to go a special kind of crazy.  She tells me I’m bordering on being psychopathic and I agree wholeheartedly.  No apologies here.

“Rooster going to be part of the clinic?”

“Yep.  Figure he’s going to be tagging along anyway, might as well do some work with him in front of the crowd.”

Once Arabelle arrived, instead of letting her board over at Roger’s I brought her to Jessie’s place.  The second Rooster got his eyes on that mare, he’s never been the same.  I told him I understand.

The first couple times I tried to haul Arabelle over to Roger’s for a clinic, Rooster broke through the fence and galloped down the road after the trailer. Cut himself up pretty good both times, I can tell you, so now they go everywhere together.  That boy’s got it bad as me, I reckon.

After I helped finish up the harvest at Jessie’s, I found a place about ten miles from there.  It was old, a training facility with barns and arenas and this house which is now our home.  We have four hundred acres here, and I’m still working on fixing everything up.  A hundred or so are woods, some are hay fields and the rest are pasture.  It will take a couple more years before everything is perfect, but it’s already home.

We got married two months after the night Leander slopped back down into our lives.  I told Dove she could plan whatever she wanted, as big as she wanted.

But, she decided she wanted it small. Just the two of us along with close family and friends. Jessie was there of course, and Crutch. Then there was Roger, Courtney, Enrique and Vanessa.  We all stood outside with a campfire, and I built this archway and decorated it with every rose I could find in three counties.  Every color made by God.

The preacher married us under the scent of roses and the chill of the early November evening.  But that’s what Dove wanted, and it made her happy, so there ya go.

We don’t talk about Leander.  He was on parole when he attacked Rachel, so after that, he was charged with attempted murder, false imprisonment, assault and Lord knows what else.  He’s good and secure back up at Jackson State for the next fifty years, and if he ever gets out of there and it ain’t inside a box it’ll be too soon. 

Rachel may be the forgive-and-forget kind, but me? Not so much. 

We’re coming up on our first anniversary and Thanksgiving is in less than a couple weeks.

Dove will be cooking.  And, listen, I love this woman like apple loves pie, but she can’t cook a leaf salad.  So I slipped over to Jessie’s yesterday after working in the barn with a few clients I’ve taken on.

I’m not sorry.  I begged her to please be here and help my girl cook, otherwise we’ll all starve.  Now, I’ll eat whatever she puts in front of me, because that’s my job.  But Lord, I’ve taken to teaching myself how to cook because her talents lie elsewhere.

I’ve got a surprise for her when I get back today.  I had the contractors take one of the small barns out near the hay field and convert it to a studio for her.  It’s taken them time to do it properly, but it’s done.  I had them put a big day bed built into the wall, a couple skylights.  Painted the inside all fresh white and put yellow and pink pillows everywhere.  There is a whole area for canvases and painting, a desk for writing, a new Mac laptop and Retina monitor.  Even a swing and all the baby stuff for Beth because I know she’ll want the baby there with her at least part of the time, and I don’t want her carting everything back and forth.

They are finishing up the last of the details in there today while I’m at Roger’s. There’s been workers out at that part of the farm since we moved in, so she doesn’t suspect a thing.  I also carved a big ol’ heart in the weathered front door with our initials inside. Guess I’m a sentimental sap when it comes to us.

I’ll take her out there tonight.  I’ve got about a hundred candles to light first, I want it to remind her of the cabin at Jessie’s that first night we were together.

She’s going to cry.  And if she cries, I usually do to.  I’m that kind of man.  The kind that cries with his woman.

Vanessa and Rachel have become close friends.  They take off sometimes and go out doing whatever it is girls do.  Lunch I think.  Rachel’s not much of a shopper, but she loves to decorate our place and Vanessa is helping her, so I just pay the credit card bill every month, smile, and nod like I know what I’m talking about when she asks if I like what she’s doing with the house.

Hell, if she’s in it, I like it. 

Tabitha and Roger seem to be gettin’ on here recently as well.  Roger seems to have lost his usual wandering eye, and from what he told me last week, he and Tabitha are coming here to Thanksgiving together.  Now I know my Dove must know something about all that shit, those two are thick as thieves, but she’s not spilled any secrets to me and I just play dumb.  It’s just better that way sometimes.

The house is filling up with antiques and brightly painted walls.  It’s an old farm house, way bigger than we need, but I intend to fill all the bedrooms with our kids, and Dove seems to be happy with that plan.  The white, three storey house has had new pieces tacked on over the years by owners that needed a new room or a bigger space. So now, all in total there are eight bedrooms here in the main house, then there’s a thousand square foot guesthouse with another two.

Now, I did gripe a bit when Rachel took to decorating my office down at the barn, but I lost that battle too.  Turns out, she did a great job.  It’s comfortable and clean, but she’s kept it rustic.  I’d do just fine with a wooden bench and a folding table, but she did it up right.

I shift over to grab the quilt and pull it over our naked legs, tucking it around her so she’s warm while Beth still eats away.  My head drops back, I close my eyes and like I do a few times every day, I thank whoever might be listening for that day I met my Dove.

CHAD

“I
f you don’t stop, the kids are going to know what we’re doing.”

I don’t stop, because I’d be shocked if our older kids don’t have a general idea of what happens when our bedroom door is closed.

I shove my tongue deeper into her clutching tunnel, swallowing the sweet nectar that streams over my tongue.

Today is our fifteenth anniversary, and the kids and I have a big dinner planned for Rachel.  They’re all downstairs making a mess in the kitchen, while I’m up here making a mess of my wife.

The years haven’t dimmed our passion for each other one bit.  We’re still on each other at least once a day.  Most days more.  I like waking her up with my mouth and putting her to bed with my dick.  It seems to be working so far, and it’s had a good long road test.

My formula for a happy wife has been multiple orgasms via my mouth, fingers and cock every day.  Say ‘Yes dear’ when she asks for almost anything, unless it’s a danger to her or our kids.  Pay the bills, and then some.  Not because she’s a spender, hell no, not her. But because I want us secure and safe, no matter what life might send us.  And last but not least, be the best father I can be.

We’re on child number eight right now.  Our last baby boy, Murphy, is a Trisomy 21 baby.  A sweet smiling Downs Syndrome angel, and if there ever was pure love on this Earth it’s him.

Our oldest, Beth, is the little mama.  She fights Rachel to take care of Murphy and that boy never has a chance to want for anything.  I’m so proud of all my kids.  And her, my Dove.  They’ve given me a life better than any dream I could have imagined.

I munch on Rachel until her pussy is swollen red and her voice is raw.  Only then do I come up over her and guide her onto all fours.  I’m giving her what she asked for this morning, she just didn’t know back then that I was planning to take the scenic route.

First I coat my cock with her slick cream, then scoop it onto a couple fingers and circle the dark bud of her ass.  We do it all, and my girl loves it all. She’s shameless, and that only makes her more beautiful to me.  I want to give her every pleasure, every sensation she desires, and sometimes that’s my hand on her ripe, round ass.

“You want my cock in your ass, don’t you, Dove?”

Her hips answer, raising up as she lowers her face into the white comforter.

I glide the tip of my dick forward, listening to the beautiful sounds she makes when I fuck her this way. She has special noises she brings out just for this. She loves how full it makes her feel, how owned.

Me?  I’ll love her and give her whatever she wants, but her ass is tight and nearly sucks my cock inside all on its own.

My slow entry has her moaning my name already, stretching her open as her hands grab fistfuls of the fabric.

From here, it’s faster, harder because that’s what she’s calling for.  We’re sweat slick and slapping together.  A stream of dirty obscenities fall from her mouth, making my dick grow another inch inside her.  My sweet dove has a filthy mouth when she wants it, and it gets me every time.

Can’t imagine where she learned to talk like that.

Her orgasm is so intense it makes her shake so hard I have to hold her hips in place.  I’m right behind her, my balls seize up and shoot her full of a nice round of hot cream.

Then I hear feet padding up and down the hall outside our door.

“That was so good.”  Rachel whimpers into the bed.

“At your service ma’am.  I love you, Dove.  Always.”

“I love you too, wrangler.”

With that, we clean up with a quick shower.  Roger and Tabitha are coming for dinner as well.  They got married a year after we did, and they have three little ones now with one in the oven.

Roger’s business has gone worldwide.  We’ve partnered on a few deals, with merchandise and such, but my heart is still in the hands on.  I don’t take on as many cases as I used to any more, and I stay as local as I can, but my reputation has gone global all the same.