by Ashe Barker
“It’s not, I didn’t hear anything. I just felt…” I shake my head, smile at him, embarrassed now. “I’m sorry, it’s just me and my over-active imagination. I guess I’ve not got over that messy business in Gloucester yet.” Deliberately shoving the unease aside, I return my attention to his erection, still superb and looking extremely ready for action. This time I clamber up onto the hay bale alongside Tom and lay next to him, my face close to his cock and my body stretched in the opposite direction, my hips close to his shoulders.
“Now, where was I?”
His answering, “Yeah, sweetheart, you were just there…” is sufficient encouragement to hold my attention for the next little while. I take the shaft in my hand once more, tightening my fingers around it as I return to my work of pleasuring him. I’ve become quite adept over the months. I know exactly what he likes and I love to provide it when I get the chance. As often as not I’m tied up so opportunities to explore are fairly few and far between. I’m determined to make the most of this one.
I raise myself over him, hold his cock still, pointing straight up as I run the tip of my tongue around the head, tasting the juices there, loving the saltiness.
He moans, shifts under my hands, under my tongue. “Christ, Ashley, that’s good. So fucking good…”
Stretching forward farther I take the head into my mouth and slide my tongue all around it, lapping at his saltiness, sucking slightly. His gasp of appreciation is all the extra encouragement I need, and I lean in further, take more. Reaching around I shove my hand under his thigh to stroke his balls. He thrusts upwards, and I take that as a signal my attentions are welcomed. I stroke his balls, cupping them to take their weight in my hand as he sometimes cups my breasts. I squeeze slightly, can feel the hard rocks held within the soft sack.
And suddenly, he moves. Taking my hips he lifts me quickly, placing my knees on either side of his shoulders, my smooth, swollen, sensitive pussy just above his face. I know what he’s planning, but even so, the feel of the tip of his tongue lightly tracing my clit is so exquisite, so delicately elegant that I lose concentration for my task, all my senses focusing there. He uses his thumbs to gently, delicately part my folds, to open me as he slides his tongue inside. My head drops forward, my mouth slackening around him as I absorb the consummate perfection of his touch. Then my rhythm picks up again, matches his as he gently, sweetly, tongue-fucks me. I return the favor, moving my head to take his cock deep into my mouth, and I’m sucking with each thrust, sweeping my tongue across and around, loving the taste of him as much as I’m loving the feel of him, of his tongue on my swollen, sensitive clit. Then, just as my relaxation seems to be total, as I begin to suspect I might truly melt, dissolve into a sweet, smooth, puddle of pleasure just seeping into the hay, he slips his fingertip into my anus. And I go off like a fire cracker.
I moan, then shriek, really shriek around his cock, and I suspect he took his life in his hands—or more accurately my mouth—at that moment as I try hard not to bite him. It’s touch and go—he touches and I go wild. My orgasm rushes at me, fills and consumes me, flinging me into orbit then spinning me around. Tom knows, knows what’s happening, and increases the pressure. He slides his finger a little farther in, flicks my clit with his tongue just a little harder, before plunging the fingers of his other hand deep into my pussy again. I’m shuddering, enjoying the aftershocks as he takes my hips again and effortlessly lifts me, turning me to lie beside him. Then he’s on top of me, his hips between my legs, his cock positioned at my entrance.
“Sorry, babe, it was you or me at that point. I want to come inside you, but you seemed so intent on what you were doing I needed to distract you. And it worked.”
My only response is a satisfied sigh of welcome as he slides into me, swift, smooth, filling me to the hilt. He reaches back, hooks his arms under my knees to lift my legs, opening me more fully for him. It’s perfect, so totally perfect, as he fucks me with such effortless skill. He angles his entry to enhance my pleasure—he knows exactly what, exactly where, exactly how. And within seconds it seems I’m spinning off into orgasmic orbit once more. I fling my arms behind my head, I’m gasping my appreciation, my gratitude as he brings me once more to a soul-deep, bone-rocking climax. I feel the waves of sensation flow through me, my body convulsing helplessly around his as he thrusts into me, deep, hard, fast. Unrelenting. And he’s there with me this time, his own breathing catching as he at last finds his own release and his hot semen pumps into me, filling me, flowing within me. I squeeze, clenching hard, that semen even more welcome than ever given our new goal. I want to grab all of it, keep all of it.
Just as I want to keep all of Tom. Next time he asks me to marry him, he’s mine.
A few minutes later we’re both fully dressed again. Well, almost, Tom seems intent on hanging onto my knickers.
“You go on back, sweetheart. I just need to fill up the water troughs in the poultry run. I’ll be along in a few minutes.” He kisses me, winks and turns to go.
I slip out of the barn, letting the huge door swing shut behind me as I make my way back across the flagged yard to the main house. I’m halfway there when I feel it again, that prickle of unease, that sense that I’m not alone. I spin around, my eyes raking the barn behind me, the blank stone wall and closed door giving nothing away. My eyes scan the near area, the farther horizon. Nothing. Nothing to see, but still…
I shiver, turn and run for the house.
Chapter Eleven
Tom’s more than a few minutes. It’s a full half hour before he returns. And he’s not a happy man.
“Someone’s been living rough in the barn.”
“What? How? Did you see him? There was someone there, I knew it…”
“Not anymore. But fairly recent I’d say. Loads of sweet wrappers thrown around, cigarette butts. Christ, lucky they didn’t set the place alight. Dry hay and smoking don’t mix. Cheeky bastards, I’d let them bloody camp there if they asked me. It’s the ones who sneak in I can’t stand.”
I’m baffled. “What do you mean? Who camps in the barn?”
“Hikers usually. And not in the barn, well not as a rule. In the fields. I’m easy about it, it’s not a problem as long as they respect the place, don’t do any damage. But I can’t do with people hanging around when I don’t know they’re there. Apart from anything else, I might shoot them by mistake. I’ve lost three chickens this week alone so there must be another fox out there and I’m looking out for the little bastard.”
A fox. It was no fox I felt watching me. Some pervert, voyeuristic creep, just some sad lonely bastard getting his jollies from watching ours. And whatever Tom says about no one else being there, I’m convinced we had an audience today. And what a show we gave him! If Tom does shoot him, I for one won’t weep. But I let it go. The only shred of comfort in all this is that it can’t be Kenny. There’s no way he’s managed to follow us here, he has no idea at all where I live now.
* * * *
And now, it’s early September. I stopped taking my pill nearly two months ago. My first period came right on schedule, but now, as of this morning, I’m an unprecedented ten days late. I’m optimistic, quietly confident.
I mentioned the possibility to Tom as soon as I suspected, as we’d agreed, as I’d promised. He smiled at me, crossed his fingers and offered to lick my clit for me, by way of celebration. I accepted his kind offer and spent the next hour or so spread out on the rug in front of the log burning stove, my knickers dangling from the back of the sofa and my skirt hitched up above my waist. My first orgasm burst forth readily enough with little or no real persuasion, the next two had to be coaxed from me. Tom slid a clit clip into place, and my engorged, sensitive little nub was helpless then under his skilled tongue and gentle teeth. And when he finally took the sensitive bud between his lips and sucked on it hard I screamed as I came apart. Only then, only after I was fully spent, did he slide his cock inside me and make sweet, gentle love to me, so achingly tender I felt tears b
rimming and trickling down my cheeks. I had never imagined, not ever, that life could be quite so good.
And this morning I’m just assembling my kit for a trip up onto the moors to replenish my ‘Autumn Shades’ portfolio when my phone tinkles. I wait a moment to enjoy my nice new ringtone—silver bells it’s called, or something like that—before picking up the phone to see Eva’s name there. I hit the green button. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself. Listen, I feel like some big girl company today. Are you planning anything special?”
“Not particularly. I was just going up above Top Withens to get some shots of the autumn colors appearing. It’s good light today.”
“Fancy some company? Me and Barney could both do with the fresh air.”
“I’d love it. Shall I come over to Black Combe?” I was planning to call and pick up Barney anyway.
“No, makes more sense if we come over there. Quads is it?”
“Too right. Can you borrow Nathan’s?”
“Already swiped the keys from his jacket. We’ll see you in about half an hour. That okay?”
I can hear Tom’s Land Rover outside, the engine note fading as he pulls up in the back yard. I smile to myself. “Tom just got back. That probably means I can sweet talk him into bacon butties or an omelet if you’re interested.”
“Interested? Do bears shit in the woods?”
“Not around here, as far as I know…but you’re the professor.”
“Ha ha. See you in ten.” I hear the click, and turn to smile as Tom, flanked by jubilant, bouncing, border collie madness, comes through the door. He looks across the room at me, one eyebrow lifted in silent inquiry. I smile, show him my crossed fingers. He returns the gesture before coming over to me. He frames my face in his hands.
“Maybe it’ll be as quick as this. Maybe not. But if not we’ll just have to keep at it. It won’t be easy, but maybe we should just pop back upstairs for an hour or so, for good measure…” His laughing eyes telegraph exactly what he has on his mind at this moment.
Pity I’ve just made other plans.
“Eva’s on her way over. We’re going out together today.”
“Oh? Hitting the shops? A spot of clubbing maybe?”
“No. The moors. Pictures. You farmers might be able to take time off whenever you want to, to…”
“To fuck our lovely subs until they scream or faint? Whichever comes first.” Always helpful, Tom supplies the missing words.
Even after all these months, he can still shock me into silence with his explicit, sexy, plain-speaking. I just stare at him, fumbling for an answer. “Er, yes…” Not the wittiest retort, on balance.
He laughs out loud at my obvious confusion. Prim little virgin I definitely am not, but even so…
“Right, well in that case you’ll just have to wait until later. I guess you’ll keep, and I’ll put the nipple clamps back in the drawer and go find my pinny. Will you ladies be requiring bacon sandwiches today then?”
“Please. That’d be nice.”
He just smiles over his shoulder as he lights the hob. Oh yes, Tom Shore can do ‘nice’ very well indeed.
* * * *
“Thanks, that was lovely. You know, Ashley, Tom’s bacon was one of the first things I ever ate when I first came here.” Eva turns to Tom, waggling the last of her sandwich in his direction. “And you still grow a good pig, if I may say so, Mr Shore.” She shoves the last of her buttie into her mouth and swallows it before licking her fingers delicately.
Tom just shrugs, modest to the core. I don’t think. “Most kind, Miss Byrne. More coffee?”
“Well, I don’t know. There’re no loos up on the tops…”
“Plenty of dry stone walls though, to nip behind.” Tom’s helpful advice is enough to convince Eva to hold out her mug for a refill.
Eva thanks him and turns to me again. “You know, Ashley, he really is very sweet. You need to hang onto him.”
She’s right, I do indeed.
“Maybe you could offer to have his children. That might work.”
Tom and I exchange a look, an inquiry, ‘Should we? And the answer, ‘Yes’.
“She already did.” Tom’s tone is even, deadpan, the sort normally reserved for asking someone to pass the salt. Eva glances up sharply, looks from one to the other of us, obviously trying to work out what she’s missing here. Eventually she turns to Tom, her tone equally casual, “Well, you should take her up on it then. It’s the best offer you’re likely to get.”
“He already did.” I put in my contribution, before Tom has a chance to answer for himself.
Eva’s eyes are darting between us, working it through, then, “Oh! Oh. My. God. Are you…? Are you two…?”
I laugh. “It’s early days, we’re not sure yet. But maybe, we’re hoping. Trying…”
With a screech of joy she’s leaping across the table to hug first me, then Tom. Then Barney for good measure as he ambles over, attracted by the commotion. The collies ignore us totally, clearly too cool for all this malarkey in a morning. Eva’s joy, in comparison, is quite unrestrained. “That’s brilliant, absolutely brilliant. Wonderful. Congratulations. Does this mean you two are, well…long term? Or maybe, oh, I don’t know…God. I’m babbling again. Can I tell Nathan? Can I text him now?”
“Yes, you can tell Nathan. That’s all right, isn’t it, Ashley?”
I nod, the silly grin plastered across my face in danger of becoming a permanent fixture.
“And yes, we’re long term. And no, we’re not getting married. I asked her and she turned me down. I might ask her again though, if I can get her in a good enough mood later.” His wink at me indicating just how he thinks he might be able to bring about that happy state, and it’s not lost on Eva either.
“Why did you turn him down? You must be mad. Didn’t you taste that bacon? And I daresay he’s okay in bed. Well, I wouldn’t kick him out, though I expect Nathan would.”
“Eva! There’s more to consider than bacon butties and, and…”
“Hot, sweaty, satisfying sex, multiple orgasms, a six pack and decent pecs?”
We both turn to stare at Eva. I’m not sure which of us is most startled, but she just sits there, smiling at us over her coffee cup, a picture of guileless innocence.
“Miss Byrne, you shock me. That’s not the sort of remark we normally associate with such a respected academic.” Tom’s dry tone belies the twinkle in his eyes as he reaches for more coffee.
“Have you been spying on us?” I glare at her sternly.
She shrugs, smiles sweetly at both of us before delivering her next killer blow. “Just a lucky guess. Well, why not marry him. He’s not totally minging.”
Tom’s expression takes on a distinctly frostier air now, suggesting he’s less than flattered by that assessment, but I do wonder if he might actually swallow his tonsils at her next remark.
“And he can manage a passable fuck by all accounts, and then a breakfast like this to follow. You could certainly do worse, Ashley.”
Tom gapes at her, his eyes glittering now with what I so sincerely hope is mirth, but I’m not entirely convinced. I manage, with not inconsiderable effort, to keep my face straight, homing in on her initial question. “It’s simple. He never asked me. Not really.”
“I did.” Tom dumps his coffee mug on the table with more force than usual, and has apparently recovered his powers of speech sufficiently to mount some sort of defense. He’s not come up with much of a rebuttal, in my view however.
“No, you didn’t. You offered to talk to my father. That’s not the same thing.”
“Ashley…” His warning tone is clear, the Dom asserting himself.
But now, I have a secret weapon, my hidden advantage. “Uh-uh, no spanking, right? And no whips. Your rules, and we agreed.”
Eva’s coffee shoots across the table as she coughs violently, gasping for breath. I reach out to pass her a cloth as Tom stands, moves around the table to pat her smartly on the back. Solicitous, he offer
s to fetch her asthma inhaler for her, but she manages to wave away his suggestion with a frantic flapping of her arm, her vocal chords still seemingly paralyzed. Satisfied her death is not imminent, he turns back to me.
“You two deserve one another. If you’re going to talk dirty I’m out of here. Is Nathan around?”
“Yes, he’s at home. In his office. Daniel’s staying for a couple of days so they’re planning a boy-fest—beer and football. That’s why I’m over here borrowing Ashley.” Eva’s still gasping a little, a distinct wheeze detectable in her voice, but her coffee now seems to be all going down the right way again.
“Beer and football, that’ll do me. I’m going over there then, so I’ll tell them the good news and raid Grace’s fridge since you two have eaten just about everything in sight. And, Ashley, you and I still have stuff to settle. With or without spanking. Given the prowess Eva seems so convinced I can drum up if pressed, I’m sure I’ll come up with something suitably memorable by way of teaching you the lesson in respect you so clearly need right now. And I am going to have that conversation with Bajram.” He nods politely to Eva, comes over to me, drops a light kiss onto my mouth and whistles for his dogs. “See you later, and take care out there. Have a lovely day, ladies.”
Chapter Twelve
We pass Top Withens at a steady purr as we make our way up the moor, the warm late summer breeze whipping our hair around as we climb steadily toward my favorite spot, my viewpoint. I marked the exact patch of ground with a pile of stones and come back here every couple of weeks or so to capture and record the seasonal changes, the repainting of the landscape by fickle weather and shifting light. The footprints left by my tripod are etched in the bracken, like some sort of moorland crop circle, or lunar landing strip. This is my very own little bit of England. I’ve claimed it, staked out my territory, and I chart its journey faithfully. It’s the same place, the exact same place, and different every time I come here. It takes my breath away, always stunning, almost airborne in its vastness, a terrifying beauty all its own.
