Her Maine Man

by Owner

  Sound faded and motions slowed. Even the whisper of the breeze in the trees muted. The glow of the moon accented Maddie’s beautiful face, playing up soft angles and hollows. Her lush mouth parted and her violet eyes flickered with darker specks of color. Unable to hold back, he stepped forward and pulled her to him. The moon spewed down a wisp of fog that swirled around his head and slowly engulfed them both as he breathed in the sweet, tart scent that was hers.

  “I think a year is going to be too long to wait in between our visits.” His eyes made contact with hers, static and heated.

  “Shh.” She hugged her arms around his neck and rode his zipper by resting one of her long-limbed legs alongside his hip.

  Jon sucked in her shush. His penis found the sigh of her breath and the weight of her leg erotic and arousing. His cock reacted by poking at her mound. He groaned, dropping his head into the curve of her neck and shoulder, drawing her silken flesh between his teeth.

  Her musky, moist heat seared through the crotch of her panties and the fly of his slacks, the khaki material bulky and heavy and binding. She ran her fingers through the hair along his nape, scratched her fingernails up and down his spine in a light, teasing motion that melted his bones. All but one. His hardening cock strained against the barrier of his zipper with relentless muscle spasms.

  “Maddie,” he murmured. “I don’t know how much longer I can stand here.”

  “Then we’d better lie down.” Her voice sounded sultry and clung to him, thick like the night air. She moved away, back to her Jeep, leaving him in the starlight, breathless, with his hard-on pointing moonward.

  He watched her leave and watched her return, mesmerized by the undulant tempo of her body. When she stood before him again, she had a plaid blanket and a sexy smile that told him everything was under control. For once, he didn’t care whose.

  She took hold of his hand in her soft one. With a creak of the white picket gate, she led him onto the grassy yard. He helped her shake the blanket open underneath a sprawling tree. They stood on either side and stared at each other for the longest moment.

  Opening her arms, she held them out to him, and somehow he restrained himself from jumping her bones. He stepped onto the blanket and into the circle of her welcoming arms.

  “Jon,” she whispered against his neck, her voice hot and breathy. “Let’s hurry. The lobstermen get up early.”

  So he hurried. He dragged her down onto the plaid blanket, then knelt over her. He stripped her blouse and shorts from her toned body, stopping only briefly to admire her breasts and belly and lace-covered crotch. When she was down to nothing but her white, lacy panties and bra, and her white, high-top sneakers, he stopped and leaned back, settling his butt onto his heels.

  “Leather’s always been a big turn-on for me. The blacker and shinier the better. Your leather sneakers go so against type, and yet, I’m so rock-hard my dick’s about to crack like cement.”

  She laughed, light and lilting. “I find you irresistible, too. Who knew I was hot for khaki?”

  He looked down at his pants and chuckled. She reached up and with a tug unzipped him. His cock wriggled in relief, bursting free as Jon shimmied out of his slacks and skivvies. Maddie unlaced and yanked off her sneakers before lying back down, splaying herself before him, the moonlight dancing on her flesh, her skin glowing, her white lacy underwear flashing like neon.

  While he peeled off his shirt, she trickled her hand over his naked thigh, edging upward toward his pulsing prick. “I’ve been thinking about your fantasy.” She ran the tip of her finger around and around the rim of his cock. “Staying with you all night wasn’t really a fulfilling fantasy. Not an erotic one. I still owe you a favor.”

  His heart halted its beat. He flung his shirt aside. She flicked her fingernail, gently, along the slit of his erection until a drop of pre-cum leaked. She smeared the thick moisture over the opening and the pulsing crown. His dick trembled and his balls tightened.

  “Maddie.” He stilled her hand. “You don’t have to convince me.”

  She smiled, her mouth curving softly at the corners. Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down atop her. He went easily.

  “What’s your erotic pleasure?” she purred the words against his mouth in gentle, moist wisps.

  “I can’t believe my luck.” With a groan, he brushed stray strands of her hair away from her face. “Hunee, undo your hair while I think.”

  Pushing himself up, he straddled her waist as she did what he wanted. She unknotted the braid and threaded her slender fingers through the strands, arching her neck as she did, exposing her delicate throat. He struggled not to shove his dick into a tempting orifice—which was a tossup between her mouth and her vagina. His erection stood rigid against his stomach, eager, willing, like a junior exec awaiting corporate instructions.

  He glanced away to gain control of his immediate urges and concentrate on the opportunity that had fallen into his lap, so to speak. He didn’t have any outdoorsy, grassy-assed fantasies. His imaginings involved certain positions, or sexual aids and toys, or particular settings or locales, which were all indoors on comfy, velvety, body-contouring furniture.

  Which ones could he adapt? Body positions from his mental list earlier in the evening flashed through his mind. Some were workable, others weren’t even in the running.

  When she shook her hair free and it splayed about her face and shoulders, shimmering in the light the moon bounced about, he tangled both his hands into its silky fragrance, massaging her scalp. She closed her eyes, seeming to lose herself to the sensations his fingertips elicited.

  Her mouth opened on a sigh, and he suckled first the top lip and then the bottom one, while his turgid dick pulsed near her breasts, stretching to touch her softness or a nubby nipple. Slipping his fingers from her hair, he eased away from the excruciating torment of her body.

  She fluttered her lashes open, and he murmured in a low, persuasive tone, “Please, take off your panties and bra.”

  Sliding off her lap, he knelt at her bare feet. With slow, languid moves, she snaked off her panties and bra and settled onto her back again. She licked her bottom lip and waited.

  “Tell me your fantasy.” Maddie couldn’t fathom what was taking Jon so long to make up his mind. “I’ve been dreaming for days, not to mention the nights, about our next lusty adventure,” she said to hasten him along.

  The touch of his hot lips and body had her aching and wet to push her carnal boundaries further. What was their pact for if not to relieve their pent-up frustrations, emotional and sexual? Since she’d found out he was ferrying off the island Friday morning, and this was their last encounter, her hormones rampaged white-hot with desire.

  “Let’s tangle our bodies and see where our limbs take us.” He dove on top of her and kissed her mouth, slipping his tongue inside, simulating a sexy rhythm that added to the slickness already dripping between her thighs.

  He crooked two fingers into her hot, wet vagina, duplicating the tempo of his tongue. The duality of the thrill drove her to the edge fast. She pumped her hips to force his fingers deeper and higher. When he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her clit, a sensational jolt shot through her. Her womb milked his fingers and wetness trickled between her folds.

  Panting, she pulled her mouth from his. “I need more of you, Jon. Now.” Impatient, she wriggled beneath him.

  “I was reading the Kama Sutra online recently, and a particular position intrigued me. Want to stand up?”

  Stand up? The Kama Sutra?

  Maddie’s heart pounded with sexual interest. Expectation gripped her vaginal walls as he slipped his fingers from inside her. His dark, smoky eyes met hers, and the hunger she saw in their depths fired her nerve endings. Heat flushed her entire body. She nodded. “I’m fascinated, too.”

  She’d never had sex while standing up and her stomach flinched with excitement. In one fluid move, Jon rolled away, snatched up his pants, and stood alongside her. He remove
d a packet from his trouser pocket and rolled a rubber onto his stiff shaft. Holding out his hand for hers, he waited, apparently to give her an opportunity to change her mind.

  She grasped his hand, eager and willing, and he yanked her to her feet. When she thought he’d kiss her and hug her close while she wrapped her legs around his waist, he instead turned her so her back was to him.

  She felt the heat of his body behind her, and the warmth of his breath on her neck. He licked the sweet spot behind her ear and nibbled at her earlobe. Reaching around to the front, he stimulated her clit with his fingers. She spread her stance wider and leaned against him, feeling his chest against her spine and his hard-on nudge between the cheeks of her bottom. He felt iron-hard and her insides quivered to have him mount her.

  He tweaked her nipple and her womb contracted. In a belly-dipping whisper, he said, “I bet you can touch your hands to the ground if you wanted to. You’re in such great physical shape.”

  “I am…I can.” She let her head fall forward while he kissed her nape and the curve of her neck and shoulder. Fire raced through her veins instead of blood.

  “Now,” he coached.

  “Uh-huh.” As she leaned forward and her palms rested on the soft wool of the blanket, he supported her around the waist with his arm.

  The fingers of his other hand were still inside her, massaging her clit and moving back and forth against her wet folds, igniting, teasing while ripples of delight lurched through her. He slid them away, slow, tormenting, dragging his fingertip across her clit at the very last. She groaned, wanting to tell him not to stop and yet she knew instinctively something better was coming.

  Gripping her waist with both hands, he said in a throaty voice, “Spread wider, hunee.”

  When she did, he entered her from behind, her vaginal lips opening to accommodate his girth. With the plump head, he nudged back and forth, taunting and tantalizing. She closed her eyes and lost herself to the sensuous motions.

  “Maddie, when blood flows to your head and your breathing becomes shallower, your perception of our sexual activity will alter blissfully. Climaxing in this state can lead to the ultimate orgasmic experience. Ready?”

  “After that description, I can’t wait.” Her tone was breathy and heat flushed her face. His predictions were coming to pass already. She ground her rear end in circles to spur him into penetrating her fully. The crown of his penis felt titillating, yet unfulfilling.

  At last, he gripped her waist with both hands and thrust, hard and fast. Her vaginal muscles clenched around him. Each repeated lunge pushed her closer and closer to climax. Each thrust jolted her G-spot and inflamed the front walls of her vagina, spiking her pleasure to an insurmountable acme. His depth and control were unerring while their flesh slapped erotically with each stroke. Soon she felt light-headed and euphoric. She became aware solely of the sensations of her body as her mind drifted. Her body began to spasm. Waves of orgasm rocked though her while Jon’s pounding, driving strokes increased.

  With a muffled cry, she came in a forceful climax, her body melting in an ecstatic release. With a loud groan, Jon came—plunging deep and remaining embedded while his hips stopped bucking and his penis convulsed.

  Panting, she sagged forward, but he slipped his arms around her waist and kept her from falling. After he withdrew, he tugged her upright, taking her weight against his body, kissing the side of her neck. His breath felt ragged and moist. She tilted her face back and he touched his mouth to her cheek and then her lips.

  “That was incredible.” Her breath still unsteady.

  “You were incredible.” He punctuated his words with intoxicating kisses to her lips.

  “I hate to go,” she purred, feeling dreamy and gratified. She reached back and captured the back of his head with her hand. “But we have to leave before the lobstermen start out for the bay, and we become the catch of the day.”

  He nodded, unenthusiastic.

  She understood how he felt. Leaving had been easier a few days ago over on Rose Island. Since he arrived on Bain Island—his sexual prowess and humor luring her, his nearness impossible to resist—parting seemed to become more difficult by the minute. If he stayed here much longer, she’d never want him to go.

  But that could only lead to disaster, especially when she inherited and if she became the head of the Bain family. Jon couldn’t help but meddle with her family and friends. Suppose he said too much to the wrong person or at the wrong time or someone overheard. Too many variables.

  They began dressing, sorting out clothing as they went along. He tossed her a bra. She threw him a shirt.

  All too soon, he flung the once again folded plaid blanket onto the hood of his Jag while he leaned against the door, not seeming to care if he scuffed the paint. He pulled her close for one last kiss. Her heart fluttered with loneliness when their lips met.

  An odd sensation when she knew her loneliness was yet to come.

  Maddie couldn’t pull away from his mouth. But how hard was she trying, with her arms clinging to him like a neck brace?

  How to say goodbye? She struggled for the right words. They weren’t saying farewell forever. There was always next year. Her heart thudded unhappy about that. A year was a long time.

  In the end, Jon took over and she was glad for his strength. He loosened her arms, smiled into her face. “You have the sexiest eyes of any woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He laughed at himself, an endearing quality that made her smile. “That didn’t come out as romantic as it sounded in my head.”

  “I think they’re the most romantic words I’ve ever heard. And you’re a man who knows his words.”

  “Looks like this is it.” He bumped his forehead to hers.

  She closed her eyes, unable to keep focus with his and not tear up. Why was this so difficult? And so sad? She barely knew him. And yet she knew him better than anyone—outside of her father.

  He chucked her chin. She blinked her teary eyes and smiled up at him. “Did you mark our weekend on your calendar?” he asked.

  She nodded. “At home and at work. Not that I’ll need a reminder.”

  “Me either. I’ll never forget the past several days or the ones to come.”

  Her heart thumped. The man truly did have a way with words. “I’ll take the early ferry that Friday,” she promised as they hugged closer and tighter, serenaded by the sound of cicadas.

  “I will, too. We’ll meet on the ferry. Let’s seal that with a kiss.” He leaned in and their lips touched, warm, tender, taking each other’s breath away.

  Then the sudden glare of a harsh spotlight hit them. They tore their mouths from each other’s. Shock widened his eyes and his jaw hung open. She was sure her face mimicked his.

  “A motion detector light?” he muttered.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Still embraced, they stared into the blinding light and blinked until their eyes adjusted. A dog barked. In the open door, wearing a floral, cotton housecoat, stood Mrs. Muttley with a spotted hound heeled at her feet.

  “Who’s out there?” she called, and the dog yapped again.

  “Are those binoculars hanging from her neck?” Disbelief sounded in his voice as he sidestepped away from Maddie in a swift move that came way too late.

  Just then the dog vaulted from the doorway, dashed across the lawn, and crashed onto Jon’s chest, taking him down like an underwater diver in lead boots.

  “Down, boy. Down, boy,” he coaxed as the hound washed his face with great lapping licks. Sputtering, he tried to stave off the huge tongue by turning his face from side to side.

  “Who’s there?” the woman demanded. “Don’t make me sic my dog on you.”

  “What does she think she did?” He gasped for air beneath the hairy forepaws of the hound.

  “It’s me, Mrs. Muttley. Maddie.”

  “What are you doing out there?”

  “I was showing the view to my friend.”

  “The shoreline or my hou
se?” She lifted her binoculars. “Do you want to borrow my glasses?”

  “No, thank you. We’re done.”

  “She probably knows that already.” He flipped onto his stomach and scrambled to his feet with the dog’s front paws still hanging onto his shoulders, which was quite a feat. “What do you think she was doing with those spyglasses, if not watching us…ah, on the grass?”

  “I’ll see you at PT tomorrow,” the woman called out. “Get over here, Spot.”

  “Not until Monday.”

  “I’ll see you on Monday, too, dear.”

  “You don’t have an appointment tomorrow. You were supposed to be inland with Mr. Muttley visiting your sister until Monday.”

  “Maddie,” he begged while Spot pawed his shoulders and licked his nape and hair.

  “I have it marked down and that nice receptionist promised to call me.”

  Jon bowed, buckling under the dog’s weight. He didn’t look like he could last until she hashed out the mix-up with her client. Besides, the woman’s confusion looked like a job for Lyndsey’s redheaded finesse. “I’ll have the receptionist call you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  Jon was down again, Spot sniffing him like a bloodhound with a criminal. “Have mercy, Maddie. Talk to her another time about her appointment.”

  “Lyndsey will call you.” She figured the less detail, the sooner the woman would retrieve her dog and go back to bed. “Good night, Mrs. Muttley.”

  “Good night, dear. Spot, get in here. Now.” Mrs. Muttley flicked the outside light off and the dog bolted for the house, his tail slithering in the door at the last second.

  “Are you okay?” She stared down at Jon, whose face glistened in the moonlight. “You look…clean.”

  He frowned, getting to his feet. “And you don’t.” He pinned her arms and started licking her cheek. She squirmed and giggled.

  “You smell like wet dog and fresh grass. And I don’t,” she teased before breaking free and tugging his arm. “Let’s leave before she remembers we’re here and wakes Mr. Muttley. If she saw us naked in the moonlight through her binoculars, hopefully, once she goes back to bed she’ll think it was a dream.”