Buck Me Cowboy: A Secret Baby Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  “Aiee!” the brunette cried out. “Ohhhh fuuuuuck!”

  And I grunted with satisfaction, a woman’s pleasure is my aphrodisiac. My hips began pumping in that sweet flesh like there was no tomorrow, pistons drilling away like a machine gone crazy. My hands gripped her waist as leverage, bracing the soft body to receive my hard pounds, her juicy form thrust forward on the bed a couple inches with each deep push, her face pressed into the mattress, small hands gripping the sheets.

  “You like?” I panted between thrusts. “You like?”

  And the girl couldn’t answer because she was moaning like a wild woman into the bed but I took that as a yes. Laurie’s pussy spasmed around my dick like a supernova gone wild, shooting sparks everywhere, her ass winking at me as I gazed as those luscious white cheeks jiggling this way and that with every hard thrust. And I wasn’t able to hold on any longer, the feel and sight of Laurie overwhelmed my senses and I gave it up. My balls tensed, going high and tight and with a massive roar, I spurted into her hot cavern, my man juices coating her channel with sweet, viscous milk, lash after lash of semen decorating her insides, so much that it bubbled up between our bodies, sperm dripping out of her hole.

  And Laurie screamed again then, lifting her head for a moment to let out a high-pitched shriek, her face a mask of ecstasy, brown curls thrown back.

  “Fuuuuuuck!” she screamed. “Fuckme fuckme fuckme!”

  And I knew what she was shrieking about. The feel of a man unloading, his hot juices creaming into a woman’s secret space is more than enough to drive a female over the edge, much less a recent virgin. So Laurie was just doing what was natural, going with the flow, riding the roller coaster of her first dick.

  And the brunette loved it. As I watched, her curvy body shivered once more before flexing and tensing, her pussy clamping down so hard on my dick I thought it might break off, her little body bucking like a wild bull it almost threw me out. But I was prepared and gripped her harder, smashing my groin against her butt, my balls pressed against that clit.

  “Oh no you fucking don’t,” I growled. “You’re taking every drop of sperm.”

  And the words just made the little girl shiver and shake once more before collapsing onto the bed, her hips still glued to mine as her face dropped into the mattress, heaving and panting, trying to get oxygen.

  “Ohhhh,” she moaned, eyes closed, a languid smile on her face. “Ummmm.”

  And I chuckled deep in my throat, trying to get my own body under control. Because I’d unloaded a huge mass into her, a giant deposit of my salty white, and I was wrung out, totally destroyed from the gauntlet I’d just run, the amazing time with this beautiful brunette.

  So slowly, oh so slowly, I began pulling back, enjoying the sight of my dick exiting her cunt. Her pussy muscles gripped me tight still and Laurie has what I call “slut cunt,” or a cunt whose pinkness hugs a dick even when it’s pulling out. I watched, eyes ravenous, as her sweet labia clenched around me, begging me to stay even as I pulled back.

  “Fuck, you’re a horny bitch,” I muttered, enjoying the sight of my fat member making its exit, completely coated with a mix of white, her cum mixed with my semen. It was dripping, shiny with the veins still pulsing, almost like I hadn’t had enough.

  And the girl just moaned again, exhausted, her little body put through the wringer from its first man-made orgasm. But I wanted one more trick from her. After my dick was all the way out, the hot pole flapping against my thigh, I bent to lick her pussy once more, spreading her folds with my fingers as I gazed at that sweet hole.

  “Bear down and push my cream out,” I cajoled. “Let me see that sweet sperm, how your pussy is so fucked.”

  And the girl sighed then, exhausted but obeying me still. Her abs clenched, her pussy lips twitching slightly as she concentrated, her face screwed up in thought as she flexed her groin area. And like magic, a bit of white welled up from inside before rising to the top, frothing creamily, bubbling out to run down her thighs, smearing the heavy drumsticks with the evidence of our fuck session.

  And to reward her, I bent down and licked it up, sampling the taste of my sperm mixed with her pussy juice.

  “Fuck little girl,” I said between laps. “I could do this forever.”

  And Laurie just creamed and sighed more, shooting me a sweet smile as cum spilled out from her hole.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Laurie

  I’m such a slut around Tucker that I can barely recognize myself. I was a virgin until a couple minutes ago, untouched and unwanted, my only experiences had been with a couple boys back in high school, fumbling and awkward. And oh yeah, there was Gary. But my ex is nothing compared to Tucker, absolutely nothing. In fact, now I suspect Gary must struggle with erectile dysfunction or some other anatomical problem because my delivery man completely blew that loser out of the water, it was like comparing God to an ant. Maybe I should mail a package of Viagra to Gary anonymously, it’d be a useful gift, heaven-sent.

  Because in one fell swoop I’ve been de-virginized by the hottest guy I’ve ever met, hands down. Tucker was so commanding, alpha and dominating, ordering me this way and that, forcing me to take his sperm, strumming my body like a fine instrument, making me scream, shudder and twist, give it all up to him.

  And what we’ve done is beyond my wildest dreams. I mean, I’d come with his tongue in my ass, my pussy clamping and twitching, spasming with the dirtiness of it all. And the cream pie? Oh fuck, oh fuck, and the fact that Tucker had licked my cream pie, sampling his own sperm was so nasty, so incredible that I could hardly believe it. But it only showed how masculine he was. The fact that he’d tasted his own sperm, been unafraid to go anywhere, push past any barrier, only underlined his maleness, that assertive masculinity that couldn’t be shaken.

  And I loved it all, adored these new frontiers that we were exploring together. So I turned my head to look at him, adoring, my body covered in a light film of sweat, exhausted, unable to do much more than shower him with adoration.

  “That was good,” I murmured, shooting him a sweet smile.

  And Tucker grinned back at me, flashing those pearly whites.

  “Yeah, pretty good wasn’t it?” he ground out, one hand lightly stroking over my curves, the hills and valleys that came to me naturally. “In fact, I’d say it was fucking amazing.”

  And I giggled then, my breath muffled slightly against the pillowcase.

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “Amazing,” I agreed.

  The big man just rumbled once more, chuckling deeply in his throat.

  “My last name’s McGrath by the way,” he dropped casually. “Just thought we should be on a last name basis.”

  And I flushed slightly. Oh my god, he was right. I only knew his first name, he’d been Tucker the Delivery Man in my head until two seconds ago.

  “I’m Laurie Holmes,” I said quickly. “Laurie Evelyn Holmes.”

  And the big man’s quirked his mouth at me, amused. Oh god, that mouth, those lips, where they’d been. I shivered again just thinking about it, my body tensing oh so slightly from the memory.

  But Tucker was unperturbed, coolly casual, always in control.

  “I know, Laurie Holmes, NYC Concierge has your credit card info. I know everything about you already,” he said with a sly smile.

  And I flushed again. God, I hardly seemed in control of my body around this man, it was beyond crazy, so wild.

  “Just wanted you to know,” I murmured, cheeks slightly pink. “Just in case, you know, for …”

  But what for? I bit my lip. Here I was, completely nude in front of a man I’d met twice in my life, a man who’d sampled my pussy and ass, tasted me everywhere, taking my virginity, and yet I was tongue-tied, not sure what to say next. Because where were we headed next? What were we exactly? A quick fuck? A drive-by, much-needed form of stress relief? Suddenly, I felt a little sad. Sure, I couldn’t expect much but at the same time, it sucked to think that I meant nothing to Tucker, that I was
just a momentary distraction and nothing else.

  But Tucker surprised me. He slapped me on the ass, his big palm leaving a handprint that flashed pink and then melted, my skin growing hot as he pressed his lips to the mark.

  “How about some pizza and beer tomorrow night?” he murmured against my white cheeks. “You free?”

  I was silent for a moment. Was my delivery man asking me out? Like on a date, where we got to know one another, talked and exchanged information about each other, revealing ourselves? Something in my chest bloomed and I inhaled deeply, suddenly ridiculously happy, a smile wreathing my lips.

  “Sure, I’d love to,” I murmured, looking up at him from between my lashes. “But after five okay? I don’t get off work until five.”

  And he grinned at me.

  “Don’t worry baby girl, I’ve gotta work during the day too,” he said, his voice like silk. “Seven okay with you?”

  “Sure,” I smiled again. Oh fuck, but my nips were growing tight with need. I tried to hide it, shifting my forearm to press against my breasts but nothing escaped Tucker’s observation. He just pulled my arm away to drop a kiss on one tip, and then the other, before reaching for his pants, pulling them back on, hiding that magnificent staff from my view. I hadn’t realized I was staring, mouth probably open, hungry for that man meat because Tucker just laughed when he saw it.

  “Oh you’ll get more of it, don’t worry baby girl,” he growled. “Just come over tomorrow night and you’re get your sweet fill, guaranteed,” he promised, his eyes on fire again. “But for now, I’ve got a couple more deliveries to make. Gotta roll, honey. The address is 501 Greenwich Street. Got it? Just remember 501, like Levi’s 501’s.”

  And my forehead scrunched for a moment as I pulled up a mental map of the city. He was inviting me to his apartment? How sweet, New York apartments are so small so usually people hang out in bars and restaurants. Furthermore, street numbers in NYC are completely predictable and you can pinpoint where someone lives based on little information, and in this case I was coming up with a “non-compute.” I gazed at him, puzzled.

  “Is that at the intersection of Greenwich and Venable?” I asked. “Right next to Bubby’s?” Bubby’s was a high-end breakfast place famous for its blueberry pie, but even more, Bubby’s was in the heart of Tribeca, the most expensive neighborhood in Manhattan. Tucker lived there? How could he afford it? Well, maybe he was splitting the rent with five guys, sharing a huge loft partitioned into multiple living spaces.

  But the delivery man just dropped a kiss on my forehead, pulling on his baseball cap, shielding his face once more, only that strong jaw visible.

  “Yep, right next to Bubby’s,” he confirmed, picking up his gear. “Now I gotta roll, customers are waiting.” And with a wink, he was gone, my front door clicking shut behind him. And I sprawled on my bed, lying back, my hair a mess on the pillow, my body completely sated and relaxed, but slowly starting to hum once again. Because I couldn’t wait to see him, couldn’t wait to get to know Tucker … and sample that big body once more.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Tucker

  I sauntered into the office, whistling quietly, coolly confident as always.

  My cousin turned to look at me, swiveling on his stool.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” Hunter asked.

  I just ignored him, throwing my shit down on my desk before sprawling in a chair. Man, I was sore like I’d been working out for hours, but it wasn’t from the gym. Oh no, I was wrung out from being buried in my best girl’s pussy, that cunt so tight, so small, that it sucked every last sperm out of me, draining me to the last drop. Fuck and it felt so good, I couldn’t wait to see Laurie again for more.

  Hunter strode by my desk, dropping a sheaf of papers.

  “Orders are up by fifty percent,” he said, “We gotta hire more staff.”

  I leaned back in my chair, hands behind my head, stretching, twisting my neck. Fuck, that girl had me bent out of shape, I’d probably pulled a muscle from the sex games alone.

  “Sure,” I grunted. “We can afford it, easy.”

  Hunter just looked at me, shaking his head.

  “Seriously man, as CEO of this place you’d think you’d want to run the numbers first or at least ask someone to run the numbers for you before making a decision. I mean aren’t you afraid that you’re wrong, that you’re dragging us into some black hole?”

  But I shrugged my shoulders. I was on top of the numbers every day, I knew exactly where NYC Concierge stood in terms of staffing and expenses, our revenues versus our profits. Even if it didn’t look like I was paying attention, I was on the dashboard constantly, scrutinizing our figures like a hawk. Besides as our COO, it was Hunter’s fucking job to bring me the numbers, help me make informed decisions.

  “These the spreadsheets?” I asked, eyeing the sheaf of paper.

  My cousin nodded.

  “Yeah, this is it. Let me know if you have any questions,” he said rolling his eyes before turning and walking away.

  I fingered the papers unenthusiastically, staring at his disappearing back. Because my cousin and I founded NYC Concierge together a year ago, it was my idea and Hunter agreed to come on-board to bring it to life. During business school I’d noticed a gap in the market and strove to take advantage of the opportunity. It’s always been an asset of mine, this ability to spot openings and manipulate them before anyone else got there, getting a first-mover’s advantage.

  Because sure, there are tons of door-to-door delivery services in the city, heck even Fresh Direct was getting into the game, going beyond mere groceries and expanding into personal care products and beauty items. But I wanted NYC Concierge to go beyond that. I was intent on creating a personalized elite delivery service, one where you could order absolutely anything and have it arrive on your doorstep within the hour if possible, no questions asked.

  And what set us apart was our technology. Like Uber and Lyft, we were app-driven, you ordered using your cell and we’d provide a countdown ticker to estimate wait time. That way, customers could leave the house, take their dog for a walk and run errands, all without worrying about missing the delivery guy.

  And of course, you can request a specific delivery person as well. That’s part of the charm, part of the “elite” aspect. A lot of rich people only want to work with people they already know, and this way we could gain their trust, build bridges before mining the one percenters for more.

  But of course, in our beta stage, NYC Concierge was open to everyone, we needed to test this shit, get everything going like clockwork before we restricted our service to the elites. And that’s how the lovely Laurie came to find us, ordering her bottle of shampoo and soaps. NYC Concierge had been doing some select promotions where people of any net worth could use our services, but the program was destined to be short lived at best. It’s not that we didn’t want to deliver shampoo and laundry detergent, that hardly mattered. It was the prices we planned on charging. That’s right, we’re working on a tiered payment system and for our bronze members, the cheapest category, monthly membership would be a flat ten thousand dollars fee. So yeah, this wasn’t going to be a service for just anyone, more like folks who flew in helicopters or had their own private jets.

  And in the meantime, fuck but this promotion was the best idea I’d ever had because it’d led me to the juicy virgin, her firm, fine form so succulent and tasty. I leaned back in my chair again, lost in my thoughts. Laurie was fucking amazing and my cock stirred a little just at the mental image of her. A virgin? How often did that happen in NYC? Girls these days lost their v-cards so early, in junior high practically. So to find an adult woman, shy and unassuming, with her hymen intact had been an incredible turn-on, and I was on it in a flash.

  And fuck, de-virginizing her had been amazing because the brunette was a slut, hands down. Letting me push my tongue into her ass? Coming hard that way, without any stimulation to her pussy? She was so sensitive, so attuned to my big body that th
at was all it took, I’d thrust into those sweet folds, feeling her barrier break, her shocked cry and indrawn breath all the proof that I needed that she was truly untouched, a nubile, creaming girl.

  And fuck, but I wanted more. Laurie was coming over tomorrow night and I wanted to make it special for her. Of course I was going to devour her again, help myself to a huge heap of tasty twat and ass, but I wanted her to be comfortable, to relax, to reveal the full sweetness of her nature. Every time I looked at her, those big brown eyes danced, her pink pout slightly open, begging me to kiss her. And I was going to, after I inhaled her form, savoring every sweet curve, every sassy jiggle of her plump body. Fuck yeah, I was going to treat this woman well, stop at no lengths to romance her like she deserved.

  But my thoughts of tomorrow night were rudely interrupted because Hunter had come striding back, his gaze suspicious.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” he asked, waving another sheaf of papers under my nose. “What the fuck? Why did it take you half an hour at this one chick’s place?”

  Goddamnit. The technology that was our strength was also a pain in the ass at the moment because of course my cousin knew exactly where I’d been, how long I’d lingered at each stop, how long each delivery took. I growled at him, my hackles rising, but then forced myself to calm the fuck down. No need to let the cat out of the bag, might as well be professional, this was a business after all.

  “An old lady asked me to help move some furniture around, so I said yes,” I shrugged casually. “Didn’t look like she had many options.”