by Maggie Ryan
“What? You don’t think I can do it? You don’t want to?”
“No, babe. I think it would be amazing to enter with you. With Stephanie and I both coaching you, I’m absolutely sure you’ll be ready.”
“Then why did you shake your head?” I asked, another forkful of eggs ready to go into my mouth.
“I was just imagining my beautiful wife, covered in slimy mud.”
Shaking my head, I took the bite before I spoke again. “That is where you are so wrong. I’m going to be so fit, so toned, so ready that I’m going to get through the entire course without a single splotch of dirt. By the time we cross the finish line, the sneakers I’ll be donating won’t even need to be washed.”
He burst out laughing and I huffed and stabbed at another slice of French toast. I squealed, the fork left on my plate as he plucked me out of my chair, holding me so that my feet were off the floor.
“Babe, it’s called a Mudder for a reason. There is no way you’ll come out spotless. But I’ll offer you a bet.”
“What sort of bet?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.
“You finish every obstacle and cross that finish line with me, and I will scrub every inch of this house.”
I considered his offer. “Nope. If I win, you will give me another massage in our Eden.”
“Now, that’s a deal,” he confirmed.
“Wait, what happens if I don’t?”
He squeezed my ass that filled his hands. “Then, you will walk totally nude across our yard, go into Eden, get down on your hands and knees, lift this beautiful ass, and wait for the snake’s bite.”
Remembering the initial pain of his cock entering my ass and how it had transformed into incredible pleasure when he’d filled me, fucked me, I smiled. “You’re on.”
“Sealed with a kiss,” he said, kissing me hard.
After returning me to my chair, we both finished eating and then refilled our mugs and took them out to the porch. Swinging, my feet in his lap, my back against the armrest, I said, “I need to call Stephanie and apologize to both her and Gary.”
He nodded. “You do. How about you ask them to come over later? I’ll grill some steaks and Gary can fill us in on what areas we need to concentrate on for your training.”
“That sounds great,” I said, pulling my feet free and jumping off the swing once he’d stilled it. I ran inside and grabbed my phone, coming back to join him.
“Stephanie, hi, this is Hannah.” I paused when she asked how I was.
“I’m good, but I wanted to apologize to both of you. Brett suggested a cookout. Can you come over later?”
A few minutes later, I hung up. “They’d love to and she’s going to bring a dish.” I threw my arms around him and hugged him. “This is going to be fun.” After a kiss, I sat back. “But, if you want to grill steaks, you need to go buy some.”
“I can do that. I need charcoal as well. Do you want to come?”
“Nope, Stephanie loves coffee and chocolate, so I’m going to make a cake… sort of like an apology you can eat.”
He set me off the swing and went to get his keys. I watered the plants and then went into the kitchen to make the best damn cake I’d ever made.
* * *
“I’m so glad you are all right,” Stephanie said, putting her arms around me when they arrived later that afternoon.
I hugged her back. “Me too, and I really am sorry for being such an idiot.” Releasing her, I extended my hand to her husband.
“Hell, no,” he said, using my hand to pull me to him before wrapping his arms around me. “I want a hug as well.”
I did hug him and then said, “I can’t thank you enough, Gary. Not just for saving me, but for forgiving me. I really appreciate all you did for me.”
“You’re quite welcome.”
Brett went to check on his coals, while the rest of us went into the kitchen. Stephanie had brought scalloped potatoes that she slid into my oven for their final baking. As I started slathering butter over corn on the cob, husks still on but peeled back, I grinned as Gary decided that the steaks needed additional seasoning.
“Why is it that men never agree on the perfect way to stack coals, what slivers of wood provided the best smoky flavor, or even how to season the meat?” Stephanie asked, giving her husband a look as she shook her head.
“Because each man is king of their own grill,” Gary said.
“But this isn’t your grill, it’s Brett’s,” she pointed out.
Gary didn’t hesitate to flip the rib-eyes over to season the other side. “Any man who leaves the star of the meal unprotected should know it’s fair game.”
I giggled and finished shaking herbs and seasoning over the buttered kernels. “Gary, do you really think I can be ready to do the Mudder Run? I can’t even hang onto the bar long enough to get all the way across yet,” I said as I began to pull the husks back over the corn so that the butter and seasonings would melt into the kernels instead of dripping off on the grill.
“Sure you can. Keep training with Brett and Steph and you’ll be able to swing across the bars and run the course like a pro .” Evidently he saw the doubt on my face as he grinned. “If I can conquer it, you’ll be able to as well.”
I rolled my eyes. “I hate to point out the obvious, but you’re a soldier. By that I mean, you’ve been doing physical stuff for years.”
“Yes, but I’ve only been doing it with one leg for the last year.”
“What?” I couldn’t help but glance down at his legs.
Stephanie laughed. “He means one leg provided by God, and one made by man.” She reached down and tugged up the edge of his right pants leg and I gasped.
Looking up, I knew my eyes were huge. “I never would have guessed. My God, you are like the Terminator!” Slapping my hand over my mouth, I felt my face flush. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t…”
“Relax,” Gary said with a grin. “I rather like to see an honest expression rather than one of sympathy, and I really like those movies.”
He grabbed the tray of meat and I took the platter of corn, still amazed that his gait showed no sign of his injury.
Setting the dish down on the side table by the grill, I said, “Brett, did you know that Gary has a prosthetic leg?”
His head snapped up, his eyes huge in an exaggerated look of surprise. “He does?”
Knowing I’d been had, I reached out to slap his arm, and then squealed. “Note to self: Never swat a man who has a metal spatula in his hands,” I said as my hands flew back to rub the sting away.
Stephanie laughed. “That’s why I’m grateful that it’s Gary’s leg and not his hand. Can you imagine having some artificial hand that never feels a burn or never tires landing on your ass?”
Evidently, I wasn’t through learning new things about our friends. I was pleased to realize I wasn’t shocked and actually felt closer to them. “How about we take ourselves out of swatting distance? I’ve got a pitcher of lemonade and a wonderful porch swing. We can watch our men dominate the grill instead of our butts.”
Stephanie linked her arm with mine and we walked away, both of us giggling as we each gave a bit of our own exaggeration by swaying our hips side to side.
Chapter Fourteen
Brett
I watched as Hannah bounced on the balls of her feet, glowing with excitement. Her ponytail swung with each bounce, and I chuckled.
“What’s funny? Is my number crooked?” She turned her head to look over her shoulder at the number twenty-three that was pinned to the back of her t-shirt.
“No, babe,” I assured her. “I was just wondering how long it would take before I had to hang on to your ponytail and pull you out of the mud.”
“Very funny,” she huffed. “It’s a good thing we’re on the same team so that you won’t feel bad when I beat you.”
Pulling her to me, I palmed her ass. “How many times do I have to tell you, the only one getting their ass spanke
d in the Griffith household is you?” She giggled and after a squeeze, I released her.
“I can’t help it. I’m just so excited!”
We were waiting for our turn to start the course. Times were staggered to keep the participants from falling all over one another. That didn’t matter so much for the initial run, but obstacles took longer to complete and muscles needed to be kept warm and pliant, so long periods of waiting for others to finish a challenge wasn’t good.
Stephanie was as excited as Hannah, her feet bouncing as well.
“Think they’ll have enough energy to finish?” I asked Gary.
“Not if they don’t stop bouncing while we wait. We’ll not be given the go for at least another ten minutes.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Hannah said. “We’re like the Energizer Bunny. Once you turn us on, we just keep going and going.”
There was a weighted pause and then all four of us laughed. Hannah’s face flushed but she shrugged. “Well, it’s true both here and in bed. So, gentlemen, if you want to cross the finish line, I suggest you manage to keep up.”
We’d all trained together as well as the women having trained separately. Hannah was more fit than she’d ever been in her life. While I would admit to worrying that she’d become too toned, that she’d lose the curves that I so loved, she hadn’t. She was still rounded and soft every place a man could desire.
“Remember, the goal is not to win. Our goal is to navigate safely and to have fun. You’ve worked very hard to get here and I’m very proud of you, Hannah,” I said. “Spotless or not, there is nothing more beautiful than the light in your eyes, the excitement on your face, and the bounce in your step.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hannah said, waving her arm. “We both know what you really mean is you can’t wait to see me fall on my ass.”
Chuckling, I pulled her in again, bending my head to speak into her ear. “No, babe, I just can’t wait to sink into your ass.”
Her face flushed and finally, it was our turn to start.
We set out on a slow jog. As our team leader, Gary set the pace. Hannah squealed and clapped her hands when we came within sight of the first obstacle. Two beams, set a few feet off the ground were lined up side by side. A narrow ramp allowed one to run up and if you maintained your balance, navigate the length of the beam without falling off into the mud below.
“After you,” I said, sweeping my hand toward the ramp.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, pointing to the second beam a few feet away. “You go on that one. I’m not about to let you ‘accidentally’ tip me off the beam.”
Chuckling, I went to the second beam, but didn’t start up the ramp. Instead, I watched my wife back up a bit, then take off at a faster run and fly up the ramp and then race across the entire length of the beam without a single wobble. She cheered as she jumped off the other end.
Once I was across, I cocked my eyebrow. “Very impressive.”
Each obstacle required a bit of jogging to get to them, again allowing time for people to conquer one and move on before another team arrived. The arrangement of tires required you to plant your feet and lift your knees high, but, again, proved not to hamper Hannah or Stephanie in the least. People who’d pledged money to support the participants lined the course.
Once we reached the first set of bars, Hannah watched as a participant didn’t swing beneath them, but crawled across the top.
“Hey! You never told me that was an option!”
Stephanie looked as surprised as Hannah. “I didn’t know it was!”
Gary chuckled. “You’ll see all sorts of creative thinking. Team members will help those who can’t make it finish. We don’t leave anyone behind… not on the field of battle and not on the course.”
Hannah clapped when the woman reached the end, turned around, and slowly lowered herself until she could drop to the ground.
“Are you going to go that route?” I asked as we approached.
“No. I’ve worked too hard, swung from too many bars to crawl over now. I’ll save that for the walls.”
She took a few deep breaths and then jumped for the first bar. I remember the first time she’d realized that the bars at the school yard and even at the obstacle course close to our house were not the height we’d be navigating for the Mudder. When she failed to reach it, I stepped up, wrapped my arms around her waist and lifted her.
“Hey, that’s cheating!” she said, looking down.
“Teammates, remember?” I said. When she nodded and I was sure she had a grip, I stepped back. “Now you’re on your own, babe.”
She took a deep breath and reached for the next bar. When she squealed, her right hand slipping, I was ready to grab her, mud puddle or not, but she adjusted her grip and continued.
“You’ve got this,” Stephanie yelled and she did. Swinging her legs, Hannah stepped onto the bar at the end of the expanse that allowed her to release the bar above her and jump down. We all made it across and I gave my wife a hug.
The next obstacle had Hannah pulling up, planting her hands on her hips and turning to glare at me. “You rigged this!”
“I didn’t set the course, babe,” I said, but couldn’t hold back a grin.
Gary nodded. “No one really knows what they are going to include. Each Mudder is different. But, we can take a time penalty if you want to walk around.”
“Not on your life,” Hannah said before pinning me with her gaze. “But, if I go under, I’m pulling you down with me.”
I lifted my hands in the universal sign of surrender. “I won’t let you go under, babe.”
“All right. Everyone tighten your laces. We sure don’t want to lose our shoes now,” Gary instructed, pulling a roll of duct tape from the pack he wore on his back. After we’d each retied our shoes, we lifted our feet and he taped them, securing them to our ankles. I did the same for him and then tossed him the tape. Instead of tucking it back into his pack, he passed it to Stephanie. “Tape my leg,” he instructed.
“Gary, we can take a penalty. We’re not trying to win and I didn’t even think about your leg,” Hannah said.
“In the words of my teammate, ‘Not on your life’,” he said.
Once Stephanie had wound the tape around and around where his prosthetic was attached to his leg, he tucked the roll back in the pack. We stood to strategize how to move through the obstacle.
“Everybody stay close. Do not hesitate to ask for help. Lifting your feet is going to feel like lifting lead before we’re done.”
“We’re going to get filthy,” Stephanie said, looking at the pit before us.
“At least it’s not very far,” Hannah said, evidently not seeing the sign that identified this obstacle as the ‘Mud Mile’. I wasn’t about to point it out either.
Gary had no such hesitation. “This is but the first pit. See that wall?” He pointed to a wall that was about fifteen yards away. Once he was sure we’d all seen it, he continued. “It’s five feet tall and will be slippery as goose shit. After we scale it, there will be more pits and more walls. Ready?”
The women looked at each other, at the edge of the pit, and then joined hands, shocking me when they screamed, “Hooah,” and jumped. Water and mud splashed up and they squealed, but it was far too late to worry about staying clean.
“They are nuts,” I said as Gary and I entered in the normal way… by walking.
“They are having a blast,” he corrected.
We weren’t halfway across before Hannah’s hand disappeared beneath the surface. “Forget my shoes, I’m going to lose my shorts!”
As the shortest of us, the mud didn’t rise to her waist, but to her breasts. Still, she slogged on, occasionally tugging up her shorts. Staggering forward, she was breathing hard as Gary and I planted our hands on the top of the wall and pulled ourselves up. At the top, we hung over the edge and extended our hands to our wives. Hannah grabbed my wrist with both of her hands and allowed me to pull her up, her entire front sliding along
the muddy surface. Once at the top, I held on while she swung her legs over and then dropped, straight into another pit.
It was by far the most difficult obstacle we’d yet done. We were all breathing hard, our legs trembling from the effort of lifting feet through mud that was determined to suck our sneakers off. I could actually feel myself stepping on shoes that had not been secured tightly enough to a participant’s foot.
“Oh, God,” Hannah said, bending over and dragging in huge gulps of air as we faced the last that this obstacle had to challenge with. It was a concrete culvert, mud cutting the diameter in half.
“We have to crawl,” Gary said. “Stay low and use your arms. Your feet will just slip. Hannah, you go first. Brett, go behind her so you can push if she needs help. Stephanie next and I’ll bring up the rear.”
The mud was thick, the holds nonexistent, but I enjoyed the sight of my wife’s ass wiggling from side to side as she buried her hands in the mire and pulled herself forward. At the midway point, she turned to look over her shoulder, her face streaked with mud. “For God’s sake, for a man who loves ass play, why aren’t you giving me a shove?”
Grinning, I scooted forward a bit and then planted my palms on her ass. “One, two, three,” I said and then shoved with all my might. She squealed but slid forward and crawled the last few feet. One by one we made it through. Standing, Hannah gave up trying to slough the mud from her clothes.
I grabbed her and pulled her close, planting a kiss on muddy lips. “God, you’re beautiful!”
She shook her head but smiled. “That was awful, but kinda fun.”
We began to jog again and both she and Stephanie waved when women they volunteered with began to scream encouragement.
My wife surprised me yet again when she didn’t even attempt to grab the rope that a spotter had swung across the pool. Instead, she walked into the water, took a breath, and executed a perfect belly flop. Coming up, she shook her head from side to side, sluicing water from her face and then her body. I could see her nipples going rock hard and knew it wasn’t from arousal. Huge chunks of ice floated in the water to discourage people from dropping off the rope. Standing, she ran her hands down her legs and then calmly walked out the other side.
