Cut Loose

by Julia Wolf

  “You are delicious,” I rasped, then I went back to work on him.

  As my mouth moved up and down his shaft, James’ hands went to the back of my head and his hips started thrusting up.

  It didn’t take long before he was pressing my head down—still gentle, but firmly—and thrusting his cock into the back of my throat. His movements were erratic, frenzied. I slid my hand up his stomach, feeling the muscles tighten each time my tongue stroked the length of his shaft.

  “Oh god, I’m going to come!” he bellowed deeply. He was giving me a warning, an out, but I kept going, swirling my tongue around him until he thrust one last time and came with a wall-shaking roar. I kept sucking and licking until he stopped pulsating, then I pulled off, kissing the tip one more time.

  James slouched in his chair, his body completely relaxed with his arms limp at his sides and his head thrown back. He was panting and had his eyes closed.

  “Come up here, pretty,” he said hoarsely.

  When I stood up his hands shot to my shorts and he whipped them off me.

  “Well, that’s a choice,” I said, momentarily stunned. But I snapped out of it quickly when James grabbed my ass and pulled me toward him. He leaned forward and kissed my hips and belly, then he turned me around and pressed on the middle of my back, bending me over his desk.

  And nothing happened.

  I started to get up, but he pressed me back to the desk. I looked over my shoulder and James’ eyes were all over me. His gaze traveled down my back to my ass, then between my legs. I grew wetter under his perusal.

  Finally, he touched me. He ran a roughened finger from the back of my knee, up the length of my thigh, tracing over my pussy and up the seam of my ass.

  And then he was gone again.

  I didn’t need to look this time. I felt his eyes on me and I let him take his fill. James liked to watch me, and I couldn’t get enough of the feel of his gaze.

  His tongue was inside me before I could take a breath. He kneaded my ass cheeks and spread them wide so I was completely open to him. I’d never been so vulnerable with a man before, but James always made me feel safe. And hot. Oh, god, was I hot for him.

  I gasped and shivered, parting my legs to give him better access. James buried his face in my pussy, his beard, lips, tongue, and nose all working on me together. When his tongue moved up to my clit and his fingers pushed inside me, my hips circled on his face and my head shook back and forth.

  The fingers inside me curled, finding a spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids. He was overwhelming me with sensation, but I couldn’t get away. His strong hands anchored me, and his mouth was relentless. He licked and sucked and plunged until I forgot where I was and how I’d gotten there. The only thing that mattered was finding my release.

  I came, not with a whimper, but a scream. I might have yelled his name, but I wasn’t sure. The only thing I was sure of was the pleasure that wracked my body, leaving me limp and boneless.

  When I collapsed, James caught me and pulled me into his lap. His dick nestled between my ass cheeks and he was hard…again. And again, I was reminded he was only twenty-three and in his sexual prime.

  James pulled my T-shirt off and cupped my breasts together. His fingers pinched my nipples and I squirmed against him.

  A moment ago, I’d been so satiated, I could barely move, but now, with his hands on my tits and his cock pressing against me, I was buzzing with desire.

  I spread my legs so they were draped over the outside his thighs and he lifted me up, then slowly lowered me onto his cock. My toes barely brushed the floor, but I used what little leverage I could to move myself up and down on his shaft, rotating my hips when he was fully buried inside me.

  I leaned back against his chest and he wrapped me in his arms. His hands skated up and down the front of me, teasing my nipples, tracing the curves of my hips, then lightly circling my clit. We barely moved, gently rocking to create just enough friction between us to drive us both crazy.

  James cupped my jaw and turned my face to him. He licked my lips until I opened my mouth and let his tongue roam.

  His fingers on my clit and tongue in my mouth was enough to send me sailing gently over the edge, floating on a warm, caressing breeze of pleasure. This wasn’t the powerful orgasm he’d given me before. It was calm, all encompassing. My entire body flexed, then melted into him, and he held me through it all.

  James moved faster while I held on to the back of his neck. He gripped my hips, thrusting upward as he pushed me down on him and I let him take me, find pleasure in my body, fill me with his pleasure.

  He grunted and stilled, clamping down on my shoulder as he spilled inside of me.

  I lay back against him, my face next to his. Inhaling deeply, I smiled lazily. “Your beard smells like spicy oranges and me.”

  James rubbed his hands up and down my stomach and breathed into the side of my neck. “My favorite fucking smell in the world,” he rumbled.

  “I think my hangover is cured,” I mused, making him laugh.

  “I’m pretty sure you’ve killed me. How did you become this way?”

  I tugged his beard and smiled. “What way?”

  James opened his eyes and held mine. He stroked the side of my face with the backs of his fingers. “Just so…purely yourself. The more I know you, the more amazing I think you are. And I liked you a whole lot before I really knew you.”

  Love. I loved him. But I didn’t say it because it was too soon, too scary. Instead, I said, “I thought you were going to say some sex things.” I stroked his beard. “Thank you, James. I feel the exact same way about you. And all the sex things too.”

  James grinned against the side of my face. “I’ll never look at this room the same again, I know that. There were times over the last couple years it felt like a prison—”

  I cut him off, “And now it’s a sex dungeon?”

  He kissed my cheek and nodded. “Yes, Frannie, you’ve turned my prison into a sex dungeon. I feel like that could be both literal and metaphorical, but since you fried my brain with your sex things, I can’t figure it out right now.”

  “Then my work here is done. Nap?”

  James exhaled. “Nap,” he agreed emphatically.

  In the middle of his king-sized bed, our bodies were intertwined, and I rubbed James’ shoulders as he breathed deeply. I was on my way to join him in sleep, but one thought kept me awake. What did he mean when he said he’d been all in from the second he saw me? He couldn’t really mean that, right? That he’d been all in with me for months before we were ever together?

  I was tired and overwhelmed by my own feelings for James, so instead of trying to pick apart the meaning behind his words, I pushed them away and snuggled against him. There was always time for analyzing later, this was now, and now was so good.

  Twenty-Two

  I woke up to a smack on my ass.

  “Come on, let’s go see the goats,” James said softly next to my ear. Then he smacked my ass again.

  Without opening my eyes, I smiled and stretched. “If you were anyone else spanking me and talking about goats, I’d think you were using some weird sex euphemism.”

  He flipped me over and I opened my eyes. He had the biggest, goofiest grin on his face and I couldn’t help but return it.

  “Goats?” I asked.

  “Yeah, goats. It’s a beautiful day out, let’s not waste it.”

  I glanced at the clock—it was only just after nine—so I agreed. “Let’s go see the goats!”

  James had been out of town most of the week to work with the company that was buying his app. He’d gotten back two nights ago, but this was my first day off and I’d hoped we’d be spending it in bed. But goats were cool too.

  After I went home and changed into proper goat viewing attire—boots, jeans, plaid shirt, obviously—James drove us out of the city. On the way we stopped at an old-fashioned convenience store with a deli inside and picked up sandwiches for lunch.

 
I started to get nervous as we got closer to the farm. “So, uh, am I going to be meeting any other O’Malleys today? In my excitement about the goats I completely forgot to ask.”

  James glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “I thought you might not be quite ready for that, right?”

  I nodded vigorously. “Parents make me nervous. Even when I met Rachel’s mom—who is like the nicest hippie in the world—I broke out in cold sweats.”

  He chuckled. “Halloween is their busiest time of year, so once it’s over they actually shut down the farm to the public and take a vacation. They’re on a cruise in the Caribbean right now.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and sagged back in my seat. “I do want to meet them. The people who produced you and Ryan have got to be pretty awesome. But I think the goats are all I can handle today.”

  James reached over and squeezed my leg. “You’re good, Frannie. There’s no rush.”

  When we pulled into the gravel parking lot of the farm, I smiled. There was a large colorful painted sign that read “O’Malley Family Petting Farm.” Since I’d envisioned James growing up in the country, I was surprised the farm was on a busy road with houses surrounding it. Much like the old-timers at Bar Royal, the farm must have remained the same while the world around it grew and changed.

  I was a city girl at heart. I grew up in Philadelphia and lived in the middle of Baltimore now. Even though it turned out James didn’t grow up in the boonies, the fact that he lived on a farm fascinated me. Literally, I’d never known a real live person with farmers for parents.

  “How long has this farm been in your family?” I asked as we walked through a wooden gate.

  “My great-grandparents were the first American O’Malleys and they bought this land when they were in their forties. It was a true working farm, none of this petting zoo business. But once my parents inherited it, they didn’t want to be farmers, so they sold off some of the land to developers and bought some goats. They sell the milk to people who use it for cheese and soaps.”

  I laughed. “I love that. They just bought some goats, why not?”

  Holding hands, we walked across a grassy field toward a large pin. As we got closer, I spotted at least twenty goats waiting for us by the fence, a couple of them head butting the smaller ones out of the way.

  “Do you want to go in or just look at them from the outside?” James asked.

  I held my hand out to one of the babies and was rewarded with a lick through the fence, which made me grin. “Are you kidding me? I don’t have a farmer for a boyfriend for nothing! I’m going in!”

  “Okay, but if you get overwhelmed, just tell me.” James opened the gate and pushed me inside, then he quickly followed.

  I didn’t need to ask why I would feel overwhelmed because we were immediately surrounded by mehhhing goats. They were all colors, from black to gray to tan, some spotted, some with smooth coats. They were butting our legs gently but insistently.

  James headed to a little shed and immediately I was alone, all the animals on his trail. When he turned around with a bucket the mehhhing intensified.

  “Want to feed them?” he asked.

  “Um, yes!” I cried.

  He walked back over to me and tilted the bucket toward me. It was full of what I can only imagine was a goat feed mix. I reached in, pulled out a handful and tossed it on the ground.

  “If you want you can hold your hand out and they’ll eat it from you,” he told me.

  I did what he said and the sweetest little baby with big amber eyes came over to me and was licking the feed from my hand until a bigger goat head butted the baby out of the way.

  “Hey, you meanie!” I tossed the rest of the food and stood up. James was hauling a big bale of hay out of the shed. He had it up on his shoulder and I swear I almost orgasmed right then and there from the sight of my big strapping boyfriend being all manly.

  Quickly I took my phone from my pocket and snapped a picture. I was going to have to print that out and plaster it to my ceiling for those lonely nights when he was out of town.

  When James spread the hay out in the trough, most of the goats went in that direction, but my favorite baby stayed by me. I crouched down to pet it and it head butted me, knocking me right down on my bum. Then it walked right between my legs and looked up at me with its beautiful eyes. The baby looked like it was carrying the mysteries of the world in its little body and was just waiting for the right person to tell.

  I reached out and scratched it under its chin as it continued to stare.

  “What is it, baby? You can tell Tia Frannie.” I’d already decided I was adopting this goat as my niece or nephew.

  The baby cocked its head and then said, “MEEEHHHHHH” before it trotted away.

  I nodded. “Profound. Meh indeed.”

  James held his hand in front of me, pulling me to my feet when I grabbed it. He wrapped his arms tightly around me and held me against him. I circled my arms around his waist and hugged him back.

  “What did I do to deserve this? I want to know so I can replicate it in the future. James hugs are the best hugs.”

  His arms loosened so he could look at my face. He bent down and kissed me lightly. “When I met you, never in my wildest dreams did I picture you on the ground petting baby goats. You keep surprising me in the most amazing ways.” He kissed me again and tightened his arms. I nuzzled into his chest and he murmured against my hair, “And Frannie hugs are the best hugs.”

  “We’re in a fight now because you’re the best hugger and I won’t accept another answer.”

  He laughed against my neck. “Okay, I surrender. I don’t want to be in a fight!”

  “I like the way you resolve conflict between us, James.” I tugged his beard so he leaned forward and planted a hard kiss on his lips. “Anyway, I defy anyone to resist these sweet babies. I Googled, by the way, so I know they’re actually called kids, which I find adorable.”

  “Do you want to meet Ryan’s goat?” James asked when we finally broke apart.

  I nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I do!”

  “That’s Nimbo.” He pulled me toward a wooden structure and pointed to a brown goat at the top. He called out, “Hey, Nimbo!”

  Nimbo looked down on us and mehhhed rather cheerfully, if that’s possible for a goat. Then, he started bouncing around in circles and mehhhing wholeheartedly.

  I cackled. “Oh my god, I didn’t know a goat could embody a person’s personality, but I’ve learned they can. Nimbo is Ryan in goat form!”

  James called, “Nimbo, come down here, you’re not as cute as you think you are!”

  Nimbo defiantly gave him the evil eye and promptly turned away from us, showing us his fuzzy tail.

  I yelled, “I’m sorry James is so rude, Nimbo! You’re adorable!” But Nimbo wouldn’t forgive us, so we decided to leave the pin and walk over to James’ childhood home.

  Hand in hand we made our way across another field.

  “You know, I never liked holding hands before you.”

  He held our intertwined fingers up to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. “I only ever held hands before you, Frannie.”

  I nudged him with my elbow. “No wonder you’re so good at it.”

  “Nothing’s the same with you,” he said softly.

  I gazed up at him and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. “No, nothing’s the same. Everything’s better.”

  He took me into the two-story home he grew up in. The outside was covered with white wooden siding, which looked like it had been painted fairly recently. It had a wraparound front porch with rocking chairs that my friend Rachel would absolutely adore. The inside was plain but welcoming, with cream walls and oak wood floors.

  We went into the kitchen to have lunch. The room didn’t appear to have been updated since the fifties, but the vintage style was charming instead of outdated. James got out plates from the white cabinets and put them down on the table that was in the middle of the kitchen.

 
; As we ate our lunch, James told me more about the house—it had been built in the fifties—and what growing up here was like.

  “Ryan would push this table to the side and use the kitchen as his dance floor, the counter as his barre. From the time I could understand, I loved watching him. He always tried to get me to leave, but I think he secretly liked having me watch him, his little fan club of one.”

  I laughed because I could picture Ryan leaping across the checkerboard floor. I loved that he had a home where dancing for fun in the kitchen was encouraged.

  “My mom would have never let me do that. Dancing was Very Serious Business and I had to do it properly at a studio or I should be resting my muscles.”

  James cocked his head to the side. “Was she really involved with your dance training?”

  I scoffed. “That’s a fucking understatement. She ruled my training. Once it was clear I had some talent and could possibly make a career of it, she was no longer my mother, she was a coach, manager, drill sergeant.”

  “Jesus, Frannie, I had no idea. Do you know why she was like that?” James’ frown killed me. He looked so concerned, so sweet, that I wanted to fall in his arms and sob about my childhood. He made me want to tell him everything.

  I took a deep breath. “She was a dancer. Like a real ballerina in the Houston ballet. My dad knocked her up, and she never went back. I think he wouldn’t let her, but she never told me. So, she transferred all of her own professional hopes and ambitions onto me. I rebelled slightly by choosing modern dance instead of ballet, but I let her steer me in the direction she thought I should go. I just kind of gave up control of my own life.”

  James squeezed my hand and kissed it gently. “She must have been proud when you started touring with the company.”

  I shrugged. “She came to one performance. She told me I was the worst on the stage and she was surprised I hadn’t been fired.”