Craving Cowgirl

by Khloe Summers

  He moaned deeply, his hands now digging into my hips. I continued to bounce, enjoying the slight sounds of pleasure that dripped from his lips. Tucking my body tightly against his, I breathed in the scent of cinnamon and leather that twisted with his sweat. Here, I could feel him tensing, like a hard cord being pulled against itself. He pursued me harder, pushing from below, pumping his cock up faster. I tightened, squeezing down with each thrust, cupping around him as he came. Without pause, he moaned loud and delicious in my ear. The entire interaction lasted less than ten minutes. We’d both been deprived too long.

  “Sorry about that, I remember… lasting longer.” His voice peaked up at the end of his sentence, embarrassed by his quick release.

  I smiled, relaxing into the couch next to him. “Me too. We’ll have to do it more often.” Torturous twitching took over between my legs. I could have gone again, maybe even twice more. But he looked exhausted, his dick flaccid along his thigh. It had been a while for him. I shouldn’t push it.

  “You should stay here tonight. I could use the company.” I offered.

  Nodding, he gathered me against his chest. “I’ll stay until you kick me out.” Sweat from his pecs now suctioned my cheek to his body as the throbbing pursued. Sooner or later, I could nail him down again, but for now I’d try to enjoy this less sexual form of intimacy.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Hannah

  In the morning, he asked me to accompany his pickup of Sophie. His parents had made reservations at The Atrium in North Tahoe for breakfast. Having been in the mood to change my life, I agreed. Though, I really just wanted to stay home and masturbate. I was still horny from last night and watching him stretch from the bed in his thin boxers didn’t help.

  We arrived at the restaurant on the lake five minutes late. Kevin’s parents sat within sight of the front door, and once Sophie caught sight of us, she began jumping wildly and waving. “Dad! Hannah! We’re over here!” She wore a dark red dress with appliques of leaves and flowers in the bottom left corner of the skirt. Kevin’s eyes lit up at first sight of his daughter. It was hard to watch them together. His love for her somehow made me want him more.

  Standing at attention when we arrived at the table were Kevin’s parents, both in their mid to late sixties. His dad, a carbon copy of Kevin, though his blonde hair had gone white and slightly receded. He had a pleasant but reserved look on his face. His mom, a Martha Stewart looking woman, dressed to the nines, her hair perfectly quaffed and sprayed in place. Her look, not as pleasant.

  “You’ve brought a guest… and she looks familiar,” she said, reaching her hand out to touch mine in a strange suspended way that was neither a shake nor a hold.

  “This is Hannah, Hannah Adams. She is my…” he looked my way, wavering for a moment at the label, then snuggled into me, wrapping his strong arm around my waist,“… my girlfriend. She is the director of the Wildlife Rescue Center.”

  His Mother’s face dropped, the whites of her eyes bulging beneath her lids. “Yes Kevin, I remember who this is.” She whispered the words and covered her mouth as though I couldn’t hear her, though I was standing less than a foot away. “This is that porn girl. The girl with the billionaire.”

  My heart stopped; I couldn’t find air. I looked at Kevin, now rubbing the back of his neck and squeezing his eyes, as though telling his Mother to shut up.

  I stayed speechless, thinking of Sophie who was having a separate conversation with me about Becca who’d retreated to the unders of the monkey bars, a place I wish I were right now. As focused as I was trying to be with Sophie, I noticed the conversation turn to silence and felt his mother angle in on me.

  “I’m sorry dear, you may be very kind, but I don’t want you anywhere near my son. He has a daughter to think of, and he’s obviously thinking irrationally.” She looked down on me even though she stood much shorter.

  Kevin turned towards me with raised brows, “Well, you ready to go?”

  I nodded, fighting back tears, “I don’t want to mess up your breakfast, I can go.”

  “Thank you dear, I’m glad you understand,” his mom quipped, now sitting at the table, motioning to Sophie to join her.

  His Dad stayed silent, looking out at the lake as though all of this were not happening.

  Kevin took my hand, then waved towards Sophie, “I get your concern, and I appreciate all that you do for me. But, I’m an adult. You don’t get a say in who I date.”

  The weight of the restaurant bore into us as we laid our laundry out to dry, though Sophie seemed unaffected, continuing to go on about Becca.

  He looked towards me, “Would you mind taking her to the car? I’ll be right out.”

  Nodding, I let Sophie lead the way, her tiny hand tugging down enthusiastically as she spoke. “I’m hungry. Are we going somewhere else for breakfast?”

  I opened the car door, “Yes! What’s your favorite place?”

  Her eyes lit, ready to tell me her ‘most favorite place to eat.’ I’d expected her to say McDonalds or IHOP. “Home! Dad makes the best pancakes. He puts chocolate chips and sprinkles in!”

  Pancakes. Something so simple as pancakes brought me to dread as I thought back to Matteo’s citrus butter. Thankfully, Kevin opened the driver's side door before I’d had much time to fall.

  “Okay, where are we off to now?” His voice was chipper, void of any animosity.

  Figuring he was brushing things off for Sophie, I went along. “Soph says her Dad makes the best pancakes, better than any other place in town. So, I’d like to see this.”

  A smile lit on his face as he checked for Sophie’s agreement through the rear-view mirror. “Pancakes at home it is.”

  After we’d eaten breakfast, and I’d successfully pushed Matteo away from my mind. Sophie retreated to her room to gather games for us all to play.

  I looked towards Kevin, his face non-descript as we cleaned up the dishes, “I feel terrible about earlier. I don’t want to get in the way of the relationship you have with your parents. They’re doing a lot for you.”

  He continued scrubbing out the frying pan, “They are the ones in the way. My mom is always harping on me to find someone to date, to find a mom for Sophie. I finally like someone, and she’s putting you down. Besides, you made a mistake with that bucket list thing. It’s over now. People make mistakes.”

  I stayed silent, letting the combination of words sink in. I cared about Sophie, and I cared about Kevin, but I was in no shape to be anyone’s mother. Not at this point. And the bucket list wasn’t a mistake. It was the most purposeful thing I’d ever done.

  Opening my mouth, I readied myself to tell him he was wrong, but Sophie wandered in with a pile of games stacked higher than she could see.

  “I brought Candyland, Ants In The Pants, Don’t Break The Ice, and Hungry Hippos. Which one should we play? Whatever it is, Hannah’s on my team.”

  “Girls against boys!” I beamed, taking the games from her struggling hands. “I say we play them all. Whoever wins the most games gets to choose dessert.”

  Crooked teeth popped from behind her lips in a wide grin. “Yeah Dad, bet you can’t beat us!”

  “Yeah, Dad!” I repeated, nudging him on the arm. I wanted nothing but happiness for this tiny family that had been through so much. When Kevin spoke of Sophie’s nightmares, of her trouble with ‘losing’ her mom, I couldn’t help but feel as though there were parts of my story within her.

  Kevin poured us two cups of coffee and brought them to the table. This is where they shined. In their quiet moments at home. In Sophies erratic giggles—the kind that forced her head back and her mouth wide open. For hours, we played games together. Sophie and I, stacking up wins like the pancakes we’d eaten earlier.

  “So, I guess that means we get to choose dessert Soph. What should we make?”

  She leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Dad’s favorite is apple pie. Mom used to make it for him.”

 
Pulling back my head, I looked into her eager eyes. A pure, innocent desire to make her father happy. I couldn’t say no.

  “We’ll be back. We’re going to need some super-secret special ingredients.”

  “Wait, without me?” Kevin pitched, unfolding his arms around Sophie, who was now bouncing into his lap.

  “Sorry, Dad. It’s a super-secret.”

  “I guess I could work on the drone software for a bit. But I will miss my girl today.” He looked down at Sophie but glanced up at me as he spoke to let me know the comment was for both of us.

  “I’ll have her back in a jiff,” I said, taking Sophie’s hand to make our way to the store.

  Living in the city was convenient. Had we been at my place, it would have taken hours to get the ingredients and bring them back. At Kevin’s, we just took the elevator down, wandered around the corner, pulled a cart from the corral, and began pushing.

  It was strange to be in a market again, shopping like a ‘normal’ person. For months I’d been living off Italian delicacies and meals cooked by renown chefs or Matteo. Then, strictly whatever I could get someone to deliver to the house.

  Sophie took charge of the front of the cart, angling it towards the right aisles. It was apparent she’d been in this store dozens of times.

  “I think the apples are over here. We need the green ones. I remember Mom used green apples.”

  I nodded, steering the cart towards the apples. She was so proud of herself, so eager to please her dad, to see him smile. I was just thankful Mom used pre-baked pie crust.

  Sophie was well behaved, not at all what I was expecting, considering the hyper energy she displayed most of the time I saw her. No begging for candy at the register, and no erratically running around the store. Rather, she was calm and thoughtful; so we shared a bag of M&M’s on our way back up to the apartment, as we balanced full bags of apples, sugars, and spices in our arms.

  Kevin was still in the back working, so Sophie and I got straight to work. She washed, and I sliced as she told me the exact directions to follow. She was only five, so the commands were scattered and a bit off course, but she had the concept down: wash, slice, cinnamon, sugar (the brown kind), nutmeg (but just a pinch), and mix it up.

  “Okay, you have to taste the filling, make sure it’s good to eat,” she said, beaming her hazel eyes up in my direction.

  Spooning a bit out with the wooden utensil, I brought it to her lips. “How is it?”

  She widened her eyes, showing me the whites in confirmation. “Yes, this is perfect! This is the best apple pie I’ve ever had!” Her voice vibrated as she spoke, as though the sugar had gone straight to her nerves. I’m sure the bag of M&M’s was no help.

  “Oh, and cut a heart in the top,” she said, reaching for a butter knife. Her lips were covered in cinnamon and sugar, her tongue lurching up, gathering the last bit of sweetness from the spoon.

  Warmth filled my heart as I thought back to baking with my mother. And for a moment, I imagined Sophie was my daughter, that this was my life: Kevin working hard on software in the den, Sophie and I baking him an apple pie, laughing and smiling. It was premature, every ambling second of the vision, but I liked it more than I’d thought.

  Continuing with the spoon, only pausing to push back curls, Sophie’s tone changed. “Dad says Mommy needs time. While she’s gone, can you stay here with me?”

  Looking back at her innocent face, I was sure I would have sold my kidney to make her happy. Thankfully, Kevin rejoined before I found the scalpel.

  “I didn’t want to interrupt all the secret baking, but I smell pie, and I can’t wait to eat it!” His arms popped from his white t-shirt as he walked into the room, sending a shock of reality back into my groin. He had one too many white t-shirts.

  “Dad! You figured out our secret!” Sophie said, jumping into his arms from the stool she’d been standing on.

  “I did, but only because it smells like the best apple pie ever made!”

  Sophie smiled, spreading her sticky lips across Kevin’s cheek.

  “Hey Soph, why don’t you go color for a bit. I want to talk to Hannah.”

  Without pause, she left the room, bouncing up and down. “I’ll color one for you, Hannah.”

  Once Sophie had left the room, Kevin’s face turned serious, his steely eyes bouncing light, casting shadows.

  “What’s wrong? You look upset,” I asked, concerned something had happened while we were away.

  “No—not at all, you just seemed like you had something to say earlier. So, I wanted to give you a chance to talk.”

  It was kind of him to think of me, but I’d switched gears. “Oh—I don’t remember what we were talking about.”

  He sat down at the furthest corner of the dining room, inviting me in. “I’d said the bucket list was a mistake, and you were about to say something before Sophie walked in. I don’t want you to think I won’t make time for whatever you have going on when Soph is here.”

  He was so kind that I felt guilty for ever disagreeing with him. “Oh. Yeah, well… I just… I want to be honest with you. The bucket list wasn’t a mistake. It’s part of who I am. I enjoy sex, the wild craziness of it all, just as much as I enjoy us alone.”

  He nodded, then took a sip of his coffee. “Okay, but what if I can’t do that. What if I couldn’t bear to see another man’s hands on you.”

  I tilted my head, and shrugged, “What if I need to be with other women? What if I like to see you with other women? What if I want to fuck in the bathr—”

  “I don’t want any of that. I want to protect you from that. Hannah, you’ve been held hostage, you’ve been hurt, your body has been blasted all over the world—and you want to keep doing this? I don’t want that for you, or for Sophie and me. I want a nice quiet life with a couple of kids, and quiet Sunday afternoons walking in the park with the woman I love—I think that’s what you want too. At least, that’s what you used to say you wanted.”

  “Yeah, but the bucket list only went bad because people were after Matteo, they wouldn’t do that to us.”

  “Do you hear how deranged that sounds? How crazy it is that you think sharing the most private pieces of yourself with other people is somehow justified if the circumstances are right?”

  I shook my head, tightening my face to hide the wobble of my chin as I felt tears begin to fall. I hated that I couldn’t control my emotions. Why was I was holding onto some sex fetish so hard? Why was I more concerned with my explicit list than this charming guy that had just stood up to his parents for me? Why I was fighting for something that took up milliseconds of my life compared to all the love and goodness I could have with Kevin and Sophie every day?

  He could tell my wheels were spinning and laid his strong hand across mine on the table. “I want to protect you, Han. I want to keep you safe from all that Matteo put you through. I’m starting to feel things, and I’m scared that you can’t let go of him.”

  Maybe I did hold onto the sex to keep Matteo close. I had pushed past so much. I had gotten myself back to a ‘normal’ life. Maybe this was the last step, the step where I realize that ‘normal’ life isn’t about explicit bucket lists and exciting sex in exotic places. It’s not about whirlwind romance that sweeps you off your feet so fast you can’t breathe. Real-life is this; it’s sweet, soft, comfortable, and happy.

  I stood and walked behind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, narrowing my head into his neck. “I need you to feel as good as you’ve made me feel.”

  He turned his head slightly back, then snatched my waist, pulling me onto his lap. “You already have.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Matteo

  I looked down at my withering body. The muscles that I’d worked so hard to define now sleepy with little fuel. Hair had grown thickly on my face and head. I’d look certifiable if I were to show up like this in public—like I’d been cut loose from a fucking psychiatric center. Despite the w
ithering, I still smiled when my cock jumped at attention, showing its size against my thinning form.

  This had become my entertainment—masturbating in the wind as I thought about Hannah, as I replayed our bucket list, as I thought of more ideas.

  Reaching down, I gripped my dick, stroking its length with a dry speed that hurt the first few times, but I’d grown accustomed to now. She’s sitting on me. She’s taking in my length. I can almost feel her warmth bouncing on top of me. I reach up to grasp her hips, feeling the pressure of her curves beneath my fingertips. She’s facing towards the horizon, riding me like a cowgirl on a bucking bronco. I need her. I need her wetness. I need her warmth pushed against me.

  Continuing, I pull at my cock, tensing my muscles with the last bits of energy I have for the day. I imagine her long hair dripping onto my chest as she bends and arches. The salty-sweet scent of her come spread out on her legs as though she’d been ravaged. She continues to bounce faster then slower, creeping in slow circles to scrape my length into the deepest parts of her. I need this. She needs this. I lift my shoulders slightly off the sand as I feel a pulse of relaxation fire in my nerves.

  Rolling over, I continue with my fantasy, imagining her next to me. I feel her soft breath on my skin as she pants, tired from her ride. She looks beautiful in the afternoon sun. The orange rays have hit her face just right, causing a soft glow to form on her skin. I pull her in, feeling her head against my bare chest, her silky hair swallowing my shoulder as it drapes behind her.

  “I need you my Bella. I need you in my arms forever. You understand me… in a way no one else can.”

  She stays quiet, though I can feel her contemplating our options.

  I know she fears I’m losing my mind, but I want her to believe in me. I want her to see that we still have opportunities. “There’s one last thing. One thing I haven’t tried. But if I don’t make it, I will be gone forever, and you will be stuck here alone. I need you to know that I’m only doing this as a last resort. We will starve if we stay here much longer.”