But shit, Morgans don’t give up easy. So I fucking dragged myself on hands and knees, god knows how long, until I got to the homestead. There was a house, a barn, and some other outbuildings, but no matter. Using my last ounce of energy, I heaved that barn door open and stumbled into a stall, collapsing on the hay.
I must have passed out because after that, there was nothing. I was out like a fucking light, dead to the world, sure I was gonna bleed to death in some godforsaken nowhere. Fuck my life. Literally, I was gonna die.
But then an angel of light came. Or maybe I should call her the devil, because what angel does the things she did?
The brunette had been sweet and innocent looking. She was curvy everywhere, huge tits underneath that big loose shirt, giant butt jammed into a pair of well-worn jeans. But it was her mouth that was a fucking furnace. Because yeah, she cut my jeans off to tend to my wound, and then my magic dong did it. As usual, my cock practically leapt into her mouth, the girl unable to resist.
Because I’ve got a damn huge fuckpole. And I’m not just saying this, it’s the truth. Girls have strained and tried, and only the best can take me all the way. That’s right, a lot of times, they can’t even get it in to the hilt, they squirm and scream, spreading their legs, pulling their vag lips wide, but the monster is just too huge.
So this girl’s reaction didn’t surprise me at all. The brunette thought I was out like a light, but actually I saw everything. I saw how her eyes widened, perfect pink pout opening into an “O.” I saw how her tits heaved, the nipples going stiff, how her butt wiggled like she couldn’t wait to sample me inside that sweet box.
But it was her mouth that did the work. Because without any hesitation, the little slut leaned forwards and licked me a long one. Fuck yeah. This was the best injury ever. I’d happily cut off my entire leg if it meant I was gonna get a hot BJ from a sassy brunette. I’d sacrifice all my limbs. Because she was so fucking good, those pink lips stretching wide to fit my girth, pulled so far that she paused, breathing heavy.
But girlie is a champ because she went down all the way, bending her head forwards so that my dick disappeared entirely into that hot cavern, lips pressed up against my pubes. It was so fucking wrong, I could literally see my dicktip creeping slowly down her esophagus, moving inch by inch down the swan-like neck.
But the little female did it, and pretty soon she was sliding up and down my pole like a pro, moaning with pleasure, filling her mouth with the good stuff. I should have shut up and let her finish, but that goddamn wound decided to break open again, and I grunted in combined pain and ecstasy. Fuck fuck fuck!
The brunette leapt up then, my cock popping out from her mouth with an audible sucking sound, chin slick and wet. I swear, she licked her lips, savoring the taste of my shaft like a satisfied Cheshire Cat. So I went with it.
“Do it,” I commanded, blue eyes blazing all over that curvy form. “Keep going.”
But the little girl flushed and literally ran out of the barn then, leaving me alone to suffer massive blue balls. It was then that I must have lapsed into unconsciousness again, the dark seeping to cover my vision. Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’d been the best oral ever, watching a sweet innocent mouth milk my monster, and now it was all over because of my fucking injury. I could kill that horse, sell him to Mexico for glue.
But now, I’m alive again. Yeah, that wound’s not gonna keep me down even though it throbs like a motherfucker. So I get up, stumbling to my feet, still pants-less. Yeah, like a real super-hero.
Grabbing a horse blanket, I wrap the stiff material around my waist before hobbling outside. Shit, this place is real run down. The big door is barely on its hinges, and even in the low morning light I can see how overrun the garden is with weeds.
This chick has gotta be running this shindig alone, because it’s too quiet for there to be anyone else here. And if there’s one thing a farm ain’t, it’s quiet. There’s always the sound of mice rustling in the grass, chickens squabbling among themselves, the huffs and pants of pigs. Not to mention the wind and the sun themselves. You think they don’t have sound, but they do. The rustle of the breeze and the bright beat of sunlight is enough music to fill my day.
So yeah, the silence is disturbing and means only one thing. This little female is all alone on the homestead. No shit.
Following the smell of pancakes, I step up to the house’s side door. It looks like hell on hinges, the paint peeling and chipped, barely hanging on. Slowly opening it, I let myself into the kitchen. Shit, this place needs repair too, but my eyes are immediately drawn to the brunette, all else forgotten.
Oh yeah, it’s her, that curvy figure wrapped up in a yellow apron, tending to something at the stove. She’s even more seductive than before, her breasts just about bursting through her shirt, and her hips are wide, swaying to some internal music. But then she turns and freezes at the sight of me.
“Sorry,” I grin. I’d meant to announce myself, not wanting to frighten her, but all that went out the window the second that ass started swinging around. What would it feel like to see that huge rump humping up and down my dick, vag lips hugging my cockpole tight? What would it feel like to watch that big butt jouncing wildly as she moans, fucking herself on my monster cock?
And evidently, the brunette’s having some dirty thoughts too because eyes wide, her gaze immediately drops to the horse blanket. Growling, I smile again. She likes it, even if she can’t see my dong through this huge, felted, wool shit. But before I can say anything, the brunette speaks.
“Are you hungry?” she asks quickly, and I suddenly remember I’m starving.
“Yeah. Famished,” I grunt, and she turns away quickly, hair falling forwards to cover her face, like she’s shy.
“Okay, sit down. I’ll make you a plate,” she murmurs, and I do as I’m told. Hey, when in Rome, might as well do as the Romans do. Of course, what I really wanted was to continue that oral, or maybe push something else into that perfect pout. But if she was gonna feed me, I wasn’t gonna complain. Besides, who the fuck starts off breakfast with BJ? Me, that’s who, but I wasn’t gonna push my luck.
And as I sit, I watch the brunette closely. She’s stressed and tired for sure. Her arms literally shake a little, preparing a plate, and I want to tell her that everything’s gonna be okay.
But who am I? Just some stranger who appeared out of nowhere this morning. So I keep my trap shut, letting her take the lead.
And sure enough, she turns to smile at me.
“So what’s your name?” she asks shyly, handing me a huge stack of steaming pancakes.
“Tyler,” I grunt. “You?”
“Maisie,” she says shyly. “And this is the Double H.”
I nod appreciatively, taking a huge bite of fluffy pancake. Shit, this stuff is good, Maisie’s obviously got a touch for food. Golden crusts dissolve in my mouth, perfectly complemented by farm-fresh butter and real maple syrup. I’ve died and gone to heaven.
She laughs a little, seeing the ecstasy on my face.
“I see you like it,” is her murmur.
“I more than like,” I grunt. “I fuckin’ love.”
She laughs louder this time.
“Okay Tyler, got it,” she says, suddenly going serious. “But I wanted to talk to you.”
Oh shit, has the time come? Is she gonna boot me off her property right about now?
“Listen,” I begin, cock hardening again. “Listen, about this morning ….”
But she doesn’t want to get into it, not just yet.
“Do you mind if we save that for later?” she bites her lip, embarrassed, looking down. “Is that okay?”
Hell yeah, I mind! That had been the best way to wake up, I’ll knock myself unconscious if a blowjob is the prize. But slowly, I nod.
“No worries,” comes my easy reply. “Later then.”
Maisie nods gratefully. She really is beautiful, and I catch myself staring at her every chance I get. Her skin looks so smooth and creamy, dark br
own hair falling down past her shoulders in big soft curls. Her body is toned from working the farm, but it’s her curves that get my goat. Shit, those have gotta be Double Ds, her loose shirt can barely even contain those giant tits. Plus, that ass. As she sways around the kitchen, it wiggles and waves at me, begging for dick. Aww, fuck, I’m so nasty. She just saved my life, and all I can think about is fucking her ass? Damn.
But I can’t act the dirty mofo just yet, it’s too early, even with all that’s happened. So I grin at her, and she smiles shyly back.
“So what do you do, Tyler?”
She emphasizes my name as if she’s trying it out for size, tasting it on her lips.
“I’m a farm hand. I travel around looking for work,” comes my reply grunt, glancing up to see her reaction. Surprisingly Maisie doesn’t judge when I tell her I’m a laborer, which surprises me. Most chicks these days want billionaires, tech CEOs, and fancy banker shit. I’m just a cowboy, a dude who works with his hands, rough and calloused. They’ll make a female scream, but no, I don’t do calculators.
“Really?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.
“Yeah really,” I grunt.
“Oh,” she says with a smile. “That’s a great job because my Pa started as a traveling ranch hand before settling down and buying this place. I’ve never trusted business guys,” she says with a shudder. “They’re like snake oil salesmen, sharks in suits.”
I almost laugh then because shit, I went to college and got my degree, even if I’m not using it. But she doesn’t have to know.
“Yeah,” I toss off nonchalantly. “Never understood how someone could be indoors all day.”
Maisie nods, cheeks flushing.
“I know, me neither,” she adds softly. “Away from the land, from the wind, the crops, the animals. All they ever do is stare at computer screens,” she said with a shake of her head. “I don’t know how anyone lives like that.”
Well, this wouldn’t be the time to get into my background. Because yeah, I work on a farm now, but it wasn’t always this way. Once upon a time, I was a man of letters, the dude with the briefcase and fancy watch. But clearly Maisie doesn’t like that type, so I change the subject.
“This is delicious. Thanks so much for whipping this up, you’ll have to give me your special recipe,” I compliment.
The brunette blushes, looking down before looking back up at me, a teasing smile on her lips. She’s sweet in a way that’s refreshing, so unlike a lot of the hos I hooked up with in the city.
“No thanks necessary, cowboy. So what brings you around these parts? How’d you come to be on my property?”
My brain buzzes. Frankly, the truth would have her run screaming, and I can’t take that chance. Not now that I’ve seen how her boobs heave, how her ass wiggles, how she craves my cock. Not now that I’ve seen how she’s able to take my full ten-inch pole in one swallow. Will her pussy be able to do the same? I have to find out.
So I lie like a mofo.
“Riding by, looking for work,” I grunt. “Damned horse saw a bee and bolted.”
“Really?” she asks curiously, tilting her head. “The horse wasn’t broken in? Bees are pretty commonplace in these parts.”
Aw shit, how to explain this? My brother swore up and down that colt was tame, but clearly, he was mistaken. So I made up a stupid story.
“It was broken in, but you know how these things go. Colt thinks he’s a racehorse, not some farm animal. Probably smelled a mare in heat a mile away,” I lie smoothly. “I’m gonna whip the shit out of him when I find him. If I find him,” I add, frowning, indicating my leg.
She nods knowingly.
“Oh yeah, when my cow is in heat, every bull for acres around is restless. One even charged over here from ten miles away, looking for Betsy, can you believe it? It was funny,” she giggled. “Because she hated him on sight, my little cow sat down and wouldn’t even look his way.”
Shit. How in the world had we gotten onto the mating habits of animals? The topic alone made me hard. But Maisie continues, innocent and beautiful.
“How are you going to get around without your horse?” she asks curiously. “How are you gonna get to your next job?”
Good question. Very perceptive.
“Well I can’t,” I drawl, leaning back in my chair. “Especially not with this bum leg. Besides, I need to repay you in some way,” I begin and watch as she scrunches her nose in confusion. “You saved my life, and it’s the least I can do,” I explain. “Honey, this place is in a bad state. There’s a shit ton to be done around here, and I’d be happy to help. Like your sink,” I point to the dripping faucet before adding, “I can fix that. And that cabinet needs to be realigned. Your barn door needs to be re-hinged, and that porch re-done. It’s amazing someone hasn’t stepped through the damn thing already.”
“You would do that?”
She perks up and I want to tell her I’ll fix everything, but I don’t want to let on. Not now, not so early.
“Of course,” I assure her.
“Well, there’s a bunch of things I need done down here and upstairs too. I’d be real grateful if you could fix a thing or two. I don’t have much, but I could pay you after harvest?” she asks hopefully, shooting me a pleading look.
A pang shoots through my heart. Damn, the brunette must really be up shit creek, and my softer side gives in.
“Maisie, you don’t need to pay me anything. Not after this morning,” I growl before standing before carrying my empty plate to the kitchen sink.
She blushes then, looking at her hands before looking back up at me.
“About this morning,” the girl begins tentatively, taking a deep breath. “I’m so sorry ….”
But I stop her right there.
“Naw, nothing to be sorry about, honey. Nothing at all. Let’s just leave it at that, okay? I appreciate you, and you appreciate me. It’s all good.”
Maisie’s face is bright red now, but she nods gratefully.
“Thank you,” she says quietly. “I’m not usually like that, I swear.”
Too bad, comes the voice unbidden to my mind. Because I wish you were like that all the time.
But instead, I merely look around the kitchen nonchalantly.
“You got a toolbox somewhere?” is my low growl. “Let’s get started right away.”
And the brunette smiles, jumping up in a flash and disappearing before coming back with a big red toolbox in hand. Oh yeah, this is it. Opening it up, there’s the full complement of nails, hammers, screwdrivers, and assorted hardware. Perfect.
As I move about fixing the sink and realigning the kitchen cabinets, we make idle chit chat, getting to know one another. Maisie tells me all about her life on the farm. Her father recently passed away and I was right, she’s alone on the homestead. Shit, an eighteen year-old girl trying to manage this place by herself? It’s fucking insane, I wouldn’t even be able to do it with a full complement of help.
But suddenly, her chatter stops.
“Tyler,” she says again, blushing. “Oh my god, I forgot to get you pants.”
I look down. Shit, the horse blanket is still wrapped around my waist. It’s a miracle it hasn’t fallen off yet.
I nod.
“No worries, just call me King Tutu,” comes my wry rumble.
And with a giggle, Maisie dashes upstairs, before coming back down with a pair of jeans.
“They were my dad’s,” she says, holding the denim out, “so they’re about five sizes too big, but hopefully it’s okay. Pa’s not here anymore, but you’re welcome to them,” she says, eyes filling with tears.
“Naw, no worries,” I reply. “And I’m sorry for your loss.”
The girl nods slowly, eyes faraway, carried away with her thoughts. But I don’t want her to feel sad, so a subject change is in order.
“Wanna turn around as I strip?” I ask wryly. “Or should I do it right here?”
She snaps back into the moment.
“Oh
of course!” she gasps. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
And with that, the girl flits away, leaving me in the room alone. Grunting, I drop the horse blanket and slip on the jeans. Honestly, if she wanted to stay and see my privates again, it’d be no big deal. There’s nothing she ain’t seen before.
But that’s too much too soon, and we have work to do, so I amble back out to the barn.
“Gonna fix some stuff out here!” I shout towards the house.
Her face appears up at the kitchen window, sweet and wholesome.
“Sounds good,” Maisie calls, and my heart warms unexpectedly. Shit, it feels amazing, a man on the range with his woman at home, tending the hearth. Very comfortable, and I get started, tooling away at the million things that need to be fixed around the barn.
And damn, but there’s so much, I can hardly believe it. From the walls that are caving in, to the rotted wood of the stalls. This place basically needs to be torn down and gutted, but I do the best I can. There’s the horse trough that needs to be repaired, the sagging stall doors that need to be re-set, and of course, the barn walls themselves. God knows what I can do for that, maybe put up a supporting beam or two so that they don’t cave in altogether.
But it feels good to work with my hands again, and throwing myself into it, the tasks become all-consuming. Before long, it’s dinnertime, and my stomach growls noisily. That’s right, I forgot about lunch, engrossed by fixing all this shit.
“Fuck,” I look towards the house, wiping my brow. “Fuck.”
Trying to clean myself up somewhat, I stride towards the homestead, this time the smell of juicy beef wafting through the windows. My stomach growls hungrily. If Maisie can cook like this, she’s got my heart already.
“Hi,” she greets when I enter the kitchen, stirring something at the stove. “Ready for some homemade meat loaf?”
Goddamn, she’s perfect because meatloaf is my fave. All the other kids hated it, but I loved it, and Maisie sets down a steaming pile in front of me, savory and aromatic, making my mouth water.
Buck Me Cowboy: A Secret Baby Romance Page 3
