Ranger Ben: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  I’ll never sleep again let alone tonight until I know if he likes me that way or not.

  If he does, I have no idea what I’ll do. But if he doesn’t, then I’ll probably die of embarrassment, so I really can’t win and I think it shows in my expression as I feel myself pouting. Huffing on the spot.

  Like a spoiled child who doesn’t know what she wants. Even though I know deep down all I want is Ben even though I don’t know how that’s gonna happen until I tell him how I really feel.

  I just don’t have the courage to say so, or the wherewithal to handle it if he rejects me or even accepts me.

  “Let’s just have some dinner, huh?” he says finally, leaving it there for now as he prods the searing steaks, asking if I still like it bloody and underdone before he flips them.

  Chapter Eight

  Ben

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing when she apologizes for seeing her naked. I know she must’ve wanted me to see her like that, but I can’t figure out why she’d need to apologize.

  Maybe in case, I told her dad? Not that I’m telling him much when it comes to how I really feel about his only daughter.

  Yeah, there was a lot of steam, but I got an eyeful and it’s been etched on my brain ever since.

  Every time I look at her now, I want to see her naked all over again, bouncing on my fat cock until she screams my name.

  But like I tell her as well as remind myself, I made a promise to her dad.

  And, well. I wouldn’t want to ruin two friendships if I made the pass I know I want to if it meant she wasn’t ready, or worse.

  If Stacey decided tomorrow or in a year’s time that it was a bad idea to have me tell her how I really feel.

  I don’t know which is worse.

  Not having her while she’s so close, or the idea of losing her and her dad altogether if I do tell her.

  If I press the point and show her how I feel.

  If it isn’t plainly obvious anyway.

  I’ve never been so damned hard in my whole life, not even when I was her age did I ever feel so potent.

  So virile.

  So needy for anyone like feel for her.

  And so it stands between us, this silent yearning.

  I know she wants something to happen, but maybe she just wants s kiss or to know a man actually does find her attractive?

  Who am I kidding though, I felt that charge between us when our fingers touch.

  I felt it while I watched her in the woods as much as I felt it when I carried her back to my truck.

  As much as I feel it now.

  We eat in silence, with only the storm outside interrupting every now and then with dimming lights or a creak or groan from the building.

  I’m always able to eat, but it isn’t long before I notice she’s only pushing food around her plate.

  “Not good?” I ask, a little surprised. My steak is excellent and I’m already eyeing hers if she doesn’t want it.

  “Maybe something else?” I suggest, wondering if the size of the steak is too much for her, or just not what she feels like eating right now but she smiles politely and says the food’s nice and eats a little but nowhere near the amount I’d prefer her to eat.

  I finish mine and make some small talk, mostly about the weather which is so lame, but given our current situation, it’s not too corny.

  “You’re gonna need your strength,” I remind her, making her smile as she catches me eyeing her food again, as well as her chest which I only notice is resting on the table.

  To think I wear that robe most nights and here she is a few feet away from me, buck naked underneath it.

  I feel my loins stirring again, trying to think of something else to say, anything else but swiping the table clear and hoisting her up onto it so I can fill her.

  “You wanna help me here?” she finally asks, puffing her cheeks, looking defeated by the plate of food.

  I readily agree on anything to change the subject until she stands up and moves over to my side of the table and takes the empty seat next to me.

  She slices off a little meat and holds the fork to my mouth.

  I notice her hand trembling but I play along, my hard on springing back to life as the beat of my heart pounds against my ribs.

  She feeds me a couple more bites like this before I put my hand over hers, guiding it to my mouth before I set the fork down.

  This is not in my imagination right now.

  I turn a little in my seat, keeping her hand in mind.

  “Are we flirting?” I ask her, interested in her response.

  She looks shy and embarrassed, but she nods her head then lowers it.

  “It just feels like—” she starts, trying to find the words.

  My hand squeezes hers and I mumble something about not wanting to hurt her dad.

  “He doesn’t have to know about us,” she says, suddenly looking up. Her blue eyes so clear, so beautiful.

  So innocent.

  “Don’t you want to even just kiss me? Just a little?” she asks, her lip trembling, her face clouding with the fear of rejection.

  My instinct tells me she’s asked this question at least once before with someone else.

  Maybe someone who didn’t treat her anywhere like she deserves.

  “If I kiss you, Stacey,” I warn her. “I won’t want to stop. And I won’t be done with just kissing… I’ll want all of you. All to myself, forever.”

  And I mean every word.

  Feeling a part of my heart ache for my best friend, annoyed at myself too for not having more self-control.

  But I’m only talking to her, right?

  “Then kiss me, Ben” she whispers, her eyes misting over and her whole body shivering, looking like a wave of supreme arousal, and every last effort at self-control is leaving her.

  I can feel it leaving us both as I move closer to her.

  “I won’t stop,” I try to warn her again, but she only shakes her head, whimpering. Begging me to kiss her.

  “Then don’t ever stop,” she manages to say before the whole room, the ranger station, even the approaching hurricane outside all disappear.

  My mouth hot and wet over hers, I taste her sweetness. Feel how soft she is and my moan is one of tender resignation as I hold her face gently in both my hands.

  She yields to me completely, and I feel her chest pressing against me, wanting more than just my mouth on her lips already, I can tell.

  Whatever game we’ve been playing, trying to pretend or ignore this is what we both need vanishes in an instant.

  It’s clear she wants more than just kisses, and her own hands jerk and yank at her robe, only making her kiss me harder and with some violence when my hand finds one of her ample breasts.

  I’m eager to take it into my mouth, but I can’t get enough of her sweet mouth either.

  It feels like both of us have had a fuse lit by bringing our bodies together, and each of us is afraid our time might run out if we don’t act now before something explodes.

  We clumsily shift our seats and in a moment, she’s straddled my lap and I have both hands moving over her as her moist heat grinds onto my dick straining against my pants as our kissing moves to tongue fucking, our hands and bodies all signaling the same need.

  Shifting my chair back, and letting her take some air, I announce that dessert is ready.

  Shoving the plates to one side, I lift her up easily so her rump in on the table and lift her legs so they’re over my shoulders.

  “Lay back,” I tell her firmly, noting she has no problem with the idea of me feasting on her glistening mound as I cup her chest briefly, pushing her back gently.

  “I’m gonna kiss you some more,” I tell her. “Right… here,” I growl, and with three of my thick fingers stroking her slick valley she throws her head back, moaning loudly, swearing. Gripping my neck with the soft flesh behind her knees as I go down on her for the first time.

  Hearing her swear like this, inhaling all of her, and
knowing just how bad she needs this gives me immense satisfaction. But I still have to fight the urge to take out my dick and stroke myself to relief.

  You’ll get your turn, I tell myself.

  My whole mouth over her hot, wet pussy sets it quivering and her whole body shudders as she swears loudly again.

  The sound of her pleasure even drowning out the tempest outside.

  “I’m gonna make you come in my mouth, Stacey. I wanna eat your little cunt out until you come all over my face,” I groan, greedily lapping at her soft lips, savoring the sweetness of her essence and marveling at the smoothness and softness of her body as she starts to buck and writhe under me. Pushing herself up against my mouth and letting me slide both hands under her ass, which I start to knead with both hands.

  Maybe the hurricane wiped out the whole ranger station. Why?

  Because it sure as hell feels like I’ve died and gone to heaven, that’s why.

  Her vocal sounds of pleasure tell me I’m doing everything right.

  More than once a hand of mine moves up to her inner thigh, stroking its way down to her pussy and letting my fingertips explore her tight, quivering hole until she’s tossing her head, almost insane with arousal.

  Begging me to fuck her.

  Pleading with me to make her come.

  I stop and start for a time, maybe selfishly, but she’s the most beautiful thing in the world and I want to enjoy her as much as she’s enjoying this.

  But I know just how close she is, I can sense it. Feel it in her body as well as her twitching honey pot.

  “Ben…” she stammers, gripping my hair tight with both hands, gasping for air, unable to even speak anymore.

  I only let out a low groan, a deep growling sound that I feel resonates through her until her breath gives out and she calls out my name again.

  “Ben… Ben, I—”

  Her climax is sudden but not quick.

  Her whole body stiffens under my touch and then jerks and twists while I cradle the nub of her swollen clit between my lips. Gently massaging it as she shudders before I taste her release filling my mouth with a new wonder.

  A new heat and a new level of pleasure that washes over her in waves that seem to take minutes before they even start to subside.

  In the end, she’s spent and I hear her sobbing gently as I move up to kiss her face, holding her close to me, enveloping her in my arms.

  “Oh Ben,” she sniffs. “I’ve never felt anything so… Oh, I love it. I love you,” she cries.

  “Tell me it can be like that every time,” she demands as I kiss her tears of release away, still feeling her pulse and quiver under me.

  My hands exploring every inch of her I can, kissing her nipples, her stomach, and her neck.

  Clasping my hands over everything I coveted with my eyes and now I can claim as my own.

  “Mine,” I remind her, making her sigh and finally relax.

  An almost catatonic, dreamlike state where she goes limp and is only capable of short bursts of little sounds or single whispered words.

  I pick her up and bundling her back into the robe which covers her like a huge blanket, I carry her to the couch in front of the fireplace.

  There’s a gas flame tonight, given the weather, but I want to keep her comfortable. Keep her warm.

  Safe.

  I think she’s drifted into sleep after I crouch by her for a time, holding her still, until I move to leave.

  Her hand reaching firmly for my now constant arousal, her tiny fingers circling the damp outline of the plum shaped tip of my aching hard on.

  “What about this?” she murmurs dreamily.

  “This is here whenever you want it,” I remind her, kneeling beside her again once she opens her eyes with a start.

  “Oh, Ben. I should have said something. I don’t want you to think I’m leading you on…” she whispers, fretting.

  “What is it?” I ask, suddenly full of concern.

  “I’ve never. I mean… I’m a virgin,” she finally says, falling back onto the cushions and looking up at me. Her face crimson with shame.

  Almost as if she’s told me some terrible secret, but to me, it’s the best news I’ve ever had.

  Stroking her cheek with my finger I tell her why. “That means that whenever you’re ready. I’ll be your first. And most importantly, you’ll be my only from now on,” I explain, glad when she heaves a sigh of relief.

  “You’re not mad?” she asks innocently.

  “Why would I be mad?” I almost laugh, beaming like a fool. Like the man, I am now.

  The luckiest man alive.

  Chapter Nine

  Stacey

  I almost thought he’d be mad.

  That after only getting pleasure myself that I figured Ben would expect me to… Well. That’s what all guys want, isn’t it?

  So I’ve heard anyway.

  But he’s not mad. He’s actually happy I’m a virgin. And he’s definitely not pressing me to go all the way if I don’t want to.

  It’s one thing on a long list of things I can remember being taunted about, being a virgin. Way before college even. But even in college, there were still those who wanted to try and shame me.

  It was never something I made known to anyone, just something mean kids and even meaner adults cooked up, adding the hashtag #virginforareason to their mean tweets and texts about me being a little on the chubby side.

  Stuff like that would never have bothered me, but they made a point of showing it to me, needling me with stupid nicknames and those fake dates until I would finally get upset enough.

  But it was never enough for them just to upset me, they had to outdo themselves every time.

  I wonder what they really expected me to do. I even asked one boy point blank when it was clear our ‘date’ was a wind up just so he could get a rise out of his jock teammates.

  “I want you to know, that no man in his right mind is ever gonna wanna tap that fat ass!” he exclaimed, laughing with such intensity, such cruelty that I almost deferred a whole term so I wouldn’t have to see him again.

  But Ben isn’t those people.

  He’s a warm, sweet, loving man.

  Old enough to be my father, sure. But age is just a number and if years is what it takes to have that level of maturity as well as tenderness, then I can understand any girl who has a thing for older men.

  Feeling his own arousal through his pants, I worry he’ll feel like he’s been shortchanged still, but he laughs it off, explaining how hard he’s been since he saw me in the woods, he’s getting used to it.

  “It pleases a man to be so hard, and it pleases me, even more, when I see you so happy,” he tells me truthfully.

  “Don’t you need to like, I dunno, let some out or something?” I ask, making him shrug before he looks at me intently.

  “All I have down here is for you, Stacey. I wouldn’t waste a drop anywhere else.”

  I should feel better, but I can’t help feeling a mixture of curiosity as well as guilt how I must somehow be depriving him of his natural instincts.

  “Just rest will ya?” he smiles, shaking his head before kissing the top of mine.

  “I’m gonna be right over here, at my desk, doing a little bit more ranger stuff,” he tells me as I stifle a yawn.

  I’m full of food and having had the biggest and only climax of my entire life so far, I’m in no real rush to do anything much.

  “Do you need to do a lot?” I ask sleepily, trying to focus on his answer, but it only ends in me fighting off sleep until I close my eyes. The sounds of the storm outside suddenly less threatening.

  As if I could lay here in Ben’s robe forever, listening to him talk and tap away on his computer.

  He’s checking the movement of the storm cell, and sending out more text notifications in case anyone is still in the area.

  He also has to monitor and report all the data from the ranger station’s sensors back to somebody else. A college researcher, I think he s
ays, but I’m so sleepy I can hardly tell between his actual voice and the dream I slip into.

  The one where he’s hovering over me, filling me up with that huge member of his.

  Making me relive the pleasure of my climax over and over again until it feels like the only sensation I’ll ever have again.

  I can hear Ben asking me some questions, about my dad. About college, and if it wasn’t for the huge crashing sound from outside startling me awake, I know I’d drift off to sleep quite happily.

  “What was that?” I gasp, sitting up, wondering if I imagined it, like sometimes when I feel like I’m falling or hear a noise that isn’t real that jolts me awake.

  Ben spins his seat around, his head cocked to one side for a moment before he says everything’s okay.

  “Sounded like a tree coming down,” he murmurs, and turning back to his computer, he brings up what looks like a view of the outside of the station.

  “You have cameras in here?” I ask, sounding bashful again.

  “Only outside and over the public service counter. Not in here,” he says casually, scanning the screen until we both see it at the same time.

  A huge, splintered stump is not far from the building. A huge tree falling in the other direction away from us, thankfully.

  He makes a low sound, concerned.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “I think we’d better stay in the basement, after all, Stacey. The wind is getting worse, but more than that, it’s changing direction. If we do get a twister…” he muses thoughtfully before looking over to me.

  “Nope. My mind’s made up. I think we should head downstairs, just let me grab my laptop.”

  I’d rather stay here, warm and cozy, watching Ben work.

  “It’s plenty warm down there too,” he promises, reading my thoughts before asking if I need the bathroom.

  “The one thing it doesn’t have, unfortunately, so go now if you have to,” he recommends before grabbing a laptop and phone in one hand and scooping me up to carry again with the other once I shake my head.

  “I’m good,” I lie. Suddenly not wanting to be an inch from Ben, even for a moment.