by Xavier Neal
He does this shit all the time. Constantly. He’s the best fucking thing for my ego I didn’t realize was so neglected and so greedy.
“I’m…good. I’m really good.”
“Oh yeah?” There’s a short shuffling on the other end followed with complete cease of movement. The clear indication all of his attention is now on my words makes my smile expand wider. “Why’s that?”
“Because I have you.”
The light chuckle I’m given embraces me as tightly as his arms usually do. “Baby, when you start conversations this way they usually end up with me doing something I don’t typically enjoy…”
Twice! That only happened twice and how was I supposed to know he would hate the video game themed concert! I thought hearing classic video game sounds recreated by an orchestra would be amazing…And it was. Well. For one of us.
“What do you need, Ollie?”
“Nothing,” I reassure with mirth lingering in my voice. “Just called to tell you my boss saw one of my sketches that resembles you-”
“Me? You sketched me?”
“You know I sketch you.”
“But like a video character?”
“Yeah…”
“What type?” He begins to interrogate, intrigue clear as day. “Am I something respectable like a WWII pilot or pilot of a spaceship?”
“Why do I get the feeling you might’ve wanted to be a pilot as a kid?”
“Maybe…” Ford chuckles a little. “Anyway, what’d you draw?
“You as a cowboy.”
“Not the most original, but I bet I still look pretty good.”
“Your modesty isn’t going unnoticed.” After we exchange another round of snickers, I continue, “As I was saying, my boss stumbled across the free sketch, assumed it was for a game, and then offered to make it a part of one when he found out it wasn’t.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah! I mean I’ve got a week to sketch a few more, come up with a more concrete concept, but yeah! Basically, if him and his partner like what I pitch, I will get to be more hands on and help develop a game I came up with.”
His smile is apparent even over the phone. “Have I not been telling you how incredible you are?”
“You have.”
“Do you believe me now?”
“Just a little…”
Ford laughs again, loud, but still full of life. “What do you say we go and celebrate tonight?”
“Where?”
“Anywhere you want.”
“Does that include going to see Trouble in Toon Time?”
He groans his displeasure. “Yes…”
“Really?”
“Really. But if that’s what we’re going to see, we’re going to the theater that does food and beer, so I can drink my way through it.”
“Stop it…You don’t hate animated movies nearly as much as you pretend.”
“And you don’t hate westerns nearly as much you pretend.”
True. It has become so true…Funniest thing about our movie watching is we have found the perfect compromise. Fievel Goes West. Best of both worlds and is becoming our go to movie when there’s nothing else on.
“So…do we need to call a sitter?” I tease.
“She’ll be fine,” he reassures. “Maybe a little jealous we’re out all evening.”
“We’ll give her a non-bacon treat as a peace offering. Wanna bring something on your way or grab something together after the movie?”
“After the movie is good. I actually have to work the full day.”
“Oh.”
“I know,” Ford sighs. “I was hoping to be out of here early, but you know how that goes.”
“You run a company, Ford. They don’t typically like you to play hookie every day.”
“Not hookie. Just…an altered schedule.” My snickering causes him to snap, “Hey! I show up earlier now than I used too. The least I should be able to do is leave sooner. Keep things balanced.”
“Uh-huh,” I mock. “You should take that up with the boss…Oh wait...That’s you.”
He lightly laughs.
“You coming by right when you get off or going by your apartment first?”
“Straight over. I look decent enough for a children’s movie.”
“Animated.”
“More children than adults in the movie, Ollie, classifies it as a kid’s movie.” A voice says something in the background, which prompts him to end our call. “I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Bye, Farm Boy.”
“Bye, Darlin’.”
The minute the call ends my face expands into another beam bright enough to blind anyone who looks my way.
“And what did the boss man want?” Camilla’s voice questions from the doorway.
I turn her direction to see her eating a cup of yogurt.
With my smile still wide I proceed to usher her in, thrilled to be telling the other most important person in my life the good news.
At first I thought it was crazy to be this enthralled and invested in another person, but the truth is, life is so much better when there’s someone to share it with. Someone who supports and takes joy in your joy. Coming from a family of loners, of very independent and withdrawn people, it feels very unnatural to be this way, yet the more time I spend with Ford, the more I’m falling in love with it…and him.
Just as I prepare to squeeze conditioner into the palm of my hand, there’s a loud unexpected crash. I jump, sending the bottle tumbling to floor of the tub and the intended conditioner for my hair all over the wall.
This is ridiculous! I should be able to leave Princess Pinky out while I take a quick shower. She’s a pig, not an actual toddler even if their behaviors at times are eerily similar.
I quickly rinse off my hand, cut the water off, and grab my towel. Mumbling under my breath empty threats, I swing open my bathroom door to see Ford on his knees by the edge of my bed.
A deep sigh of relief is immediate. When I told him I’d leave the door unlocked for him to just let himself in, I didn’t think he would scare the shit out of me in the process. “It’s you making all that noise? Not Princess Pinky.”
His attention snaps up but his jaw drops.
Confused as to the change in expression, I ask, “What? What’s wrong?”
Ford’s eyes slowly dip down my body and the answer swiftly becomes apparent.
This is the closest to naked he’s ever seen me. While we’ve been actively groping one another like we suddenly see with our hands instead of our eyes, I’ve managed to skirt around having to be completely exposed. He’s seen both halves, just at different times. Never all at once. And never in the very bright light of my bedroom, which now feels as bright as a Broadway spotlight.
The moment my fingers start tugging to close the towel more, he unpleasantly snaps, “What are you doing?”
“Trying to…conceal myself. What are you doing?”
“Trying to get our hog from underneath the bed where she’s enjoying the celebration cupcake I stopped to buy you.”
Ford’s thoughtfulness causes me to coo. “Aw…”
His unhappy expression doesn’t waiver. “Why are you tryin’ to hide your beautiful body from me, Ollie?”
My lips unconsciously press together.
“I’ve already seen you naked.”
“In half.”
It’s his turn to look flummoxed. “What?”
“You’ve seen me naked in halves. Never the whole thing. Never all…at one time…”
Ford frowns at the response. “Why not?”
I don’t answer.
He adjusts his arm on the edge of my bed yet remains on his knees. With no room for argument in his delivery, he commands, “Come over here.”
The combination of his tone and his powerful stare create an unexpected wetness between my thighs. Heat begins to blaze its way from the tips of my toes to my already steaming face. A familiar longing festers between my thighs, and my body’s desire to ha
ve it filled is what causes me to drift his direction.
Once I’m in front of him, body nervously braced against the bed for support, he slides his hands slowly up my damp legs. My eyes struggle to stay open against the simple pleasure of his touch. As soon as he reaches the edge of my towel he gives it a sharp tug banishing it from my body. It hits the floor with a thud and my heart bolts to my throat.
Naked. I am completely naked in front of him. He can see everything. God, the lights are probably showcasing my stretch marks, the hairs I missed shaving, the-
Ford’s tongue gives my bare pussy a light, lascivious lick.
The force of the gasp torn from me causes my knees to debilitate me.
He barely lifts his eyes during his suggestion, “You may wanna sit down for this.”
There’s no time given to process what’s happening. Ford lightly pushes me onto the edge of the bed, throws my legs over his shoulders, and lowers his mouth to start salaciously sucking on my pussy. His fingers dig into my hips, latching me against his ferociously active tongue that seems to be in no mood for mercy. My body falls backwards yet my hips continue to beg for more. All too happy to oblige, Ford’s feast increases in speed and urgency. I curl my fingers into the sheets while whimpers fall freely from parted lips. Ceaselessly, he caresses my clit, responding appropriately to every shake and shudder his restless mouth seems to uncover. Each time he groans in approval of my wetness dripping onto his tongue, my pussy responds in a new-found desperation to keep him pleased by becoming wetter. The nonstop devotion to devouring me has my eyes screwed shut and obliterated my ability to focus on anything other than the orgasm racing to greet him. With no additional warning, I begin to come, his name chiming around the room like church bells. Ford’s face presses itself deeper between my legs, anxious to lap up every last drop of me as if he’s found the forbidden fruit of paradise. My voice shakes along with my legs until my entire body reaches a level of depletion.
Ford’s hot, heavy breath on my sensitive pussy during his pull away causes an additional bow off the bed. When I finally remember how basic body functions work like breathing and blinking, I let my attention settle on his beaming face, which is still happily positioned between my thighs.
He wets his lips. “Ready to go again?”
“Again?” I squeak, shooting up to my elbows. “You’re not…tired?!”
His face tilts to the side. “Ollie it was only like six minutes.”
“That’s it?!”
A cocky chuckle escapes. “That’s it baby.”
I’ve never come so fast from having a guy go down on me. In my defense, there have only been two and neither seemed very interested in educational tips on getting me off. Apparently to them eating a girl out was just a box to check off on route to sex. Still. I think my boyfriend might have a magical tongue…
Ford plants a soft kiss on my inner thigh before repeating, “Ready to go again?”
My pussy tightens in approval for more. I give him a small smirk, bite my bottom lip, and nod.
This whole going slow thing is only increasing in benefits and doubling up orgasms for me. Whoever said after thirty hitting ‘the bases’ one by one was a waste of time, clearly never had the pleasure of Ford Shaw between their legs…
“You’re just wasting money at this point,” Ollie teases between laughs. “Pretty sure you could’ve gone down to Target and just bought me like three of those stuffed animals.”
I drop another ten down on the counter. “That’s not the same.”
“No. It’s cheaper.”
The game operator chuckles and puts three more baseballs in my bucket.
Winning the stupid neon green tiger is about more than giving my girlfriend something to sit in the corner of her bedroom floor. It’s about commemorating not only our first major holiday as a couple, but the fact we’re testing the logos she helped create. It’s about having something around to physically remind us this little outing. Of her willingness to withstand a large crowd just to be by my side during something that matters…Fine. It’s also a little bit about my pride. I know I can knock over those damn bottles.
“Supportive Ollie.” I glance over my shoulder at her. “Be. Supportive.”
She snickers again, but surrenders her hands. “Fine. Fine. You can do it, Farm Boy. Show those big bad bottles you really mean it.”
The operator tries not to laugh as I turn to face her. “I said supportive, not condescending.”
“I believe I may have taken a little from column A and a little from column B.”
“Do you want me to give Princess Pinky the animal when I win it?”
“If.”
“When.”
Ollie’s laughter shifts my smile wider.
This woman has somehow effortlessly managed to become the only constant in my life that always brings me joy. Even when we’re arguing, just the sound of her voice is enough to keep me grinning like a maniac. I will say having a heated discussion on who should pay for gas in my truck probably isn’t nearly as crucial as what other couples fight about. But there’s something else I love about her. Our arguments are usually very light. Aside from who should get to pay for an outing, things are pretty playful. Seeing one another’s sides to a situation isn’t even a challenge, which is interesting considering how completely different we are.
I turn back around, pick up the first ball, and wind it up with everything I’ve got before I send it flying. The ball lands in the middle tumbling over the five-bottle tower in one shot. Rather than let myself get relieved this might not be another round of embarrassment, I put all my energy into staying focused on another flawless hit as he resets the bottle. The moment he’s ready, I repeat the previous action once again executing a win. With one ball left and my eye very much so on the prize, I say a small prayer for help while he sets them up for the final throw.
The operator gives me a taunting look. “Remember it has to be three in a row to win that prize…”
No shit. I came to that conclusion sixty bucks ago.
I let out a long, slow deep breath and line up my shot. The ball flies from my hands and tumbles over all five bottles.
Ollie squeals in delight behind me as I throw a victory punch in the air. “Yes!”
The operator gives an impressed nod. “First big winner of the day.”
He reaches down below to grab one of the stuffed animals still wrapped in its plastic protection. After he’s handed it over, we move slightly out of the way of other participants, and I tear off the cover.
With a proud smile, I state, “Happy 4th of July, Darlin’.”
She wraps her arms around it. “Happy 4th of July, Farm Boy.”
We engage in a brief kiss. Ha. We’ve learned our lesson about the consequences of a little too much tongue and a little too much heat out in public. Never thought I would be one of those people who would scan an area for all the private places he could finger his girlfriend without getting caught or one of those pervs who had to rub one out in the bathroom mid movie because he couldn’t wait to do anything about it any longer. Someway, somehow, Ollie has brought out the embarrassingly horny fifteen-year-old I was certain Carol Ann had murdered with a sledge hammer of sex rations years ago.
“Tell me I don’t have to carry this thing around for the rest of the night.”
I chuckle and drop an arm around her shoulder. “Embarrassed?”
“Not nearly as much as you should be for how much you spent to win it.”
Another laugh leaves me and I peck her with a kiss on the side of her head. “We can swing by my booth and drop it off with the team. Probably would be a good idea to check in anyway, since my big brother has the attention span of a Boxer puppy.”
Somedays it’s not an issue. But today of all days it will be. Having a booth at the annual Highland 4th of July Festival is a huge deal and a first for us to grab a space. We’ve never been given the opportunity to have such a vast population reached. We’ve never been given a chance
to have people buy our product like this. While we can’t sell them by the cases or bottles, we can sell them in plastic cups like the other vendors. Selling here could be great profit, but more importantly, it could be great exposure. That’s what I am really hoping for.
We arrive in front of the busy white tented area. Our large table has two lines set up. On one side, Dani from marketing has free samples to giveaway for simply telling her which logo they like better while Jamie is selling cups from the keg. Seeing my team so engaged causes me to stand a little taller, however the lack of management immediately lowers my shoulders back down.
