In The Barn 5

The light from the skylights is muted, rainy-day light. He is standing alone in its soft glow quietly looking at our miscellaneous wood and building materials. He turns as I enter. Black hair messed from the hat he's removed, sculpted face lifts at my approach. Beautiful, he takes my breath away.

Seeing it in me, that perfectly shaped mouth lifts in a wicked smile, green eyes flash. He would reach for me but I am already moving into his arms. Pressing my breasts against his chest I tilt my head back as I stand on my toes to kiss him. His lips move with mine. Holding his face in my hands I lose time in the taste of his mouth, the velvet of his tongue and lips.

Breathless we break apart. I take him into the darker recesses of the barn, hidden should anyone enter. There my hands run over his shoulders, his arms and chest. I pull on his belt, loosen it. His eyes become green flames, hands on my hips. Kissing him again I undo his pants, pressing them back and down, uncovering his skin. My fingers brush against smooth flesh above his dark curling hair.

Dropping to my knees, I press my face against his hip, the hollow below. His breath catches and my tongue flicks out, its tip tastes his warm skin. I peal his pants away, gently drawing out his soft, warm cock with my hand. He says my name and I press my face against him again, his hand in my hair, caressing. He grows hard against my cheek. I stroke him, releasing the head from its foreskin. Another stroke and a bead of lubricant forms at the tip. I reach for it with the flat of my tongue. Tasting its sweetness, I swirl my tongue over him, before I take his cock deep into my mouth.

His breath comes in a long soft, "Oh!"

I take the head past the place of resistance and into my throat. He groans his pleasure. I work him there for a few seconds, tongue moving against the underside of his cock before releasing him to take a breath. Repeating that again and again I bring him to orgasm. His body tenses and in those last seconds I hold him deep in my throat, not allowing for that first pulse to complete its action; and then I let up on him, the next pulse succeeding in its expulsion, hot in my mouth."

"Ahh! Yes!" his cry sounds in the barn, fills my ears, pleasure unbound. I have my own little mini orgasm all through my body from it. I take all he gives, milking him with my mouth as I watch him from beneath my brow. His head is tilted back against the barn wall, throat exposed. I slow. He raises his head, green eyes on mine. Letting him slip from my mouth, I press my face into his groin again.

Drawing me up to him, he bends to kiss me, lips sweet and insistent on mine. When he breaks it, whispering my name and beginning to take me closer in his arms I slip away leaving him staring after me as I close the barn door, strangely satisfied.

Late in the evening he catches me on the porch, his hands on my ribs, circling my waist and sliding down over my backside. Without saying a word he draws me to him. His eyes flicker in the light. His lips curl in that wicked smile as he pulls me away to a dark corner.

"Oh!

I sigh into him, head at his throat, his scent makes everything spin. With a deft movement he turns me away by the hips only to pull me back against him. One arm about my waist, the other hand lifts my skirts, brushes over my thighs. My belly ripples beneath the skin. There is nothing between him and my sex, his fingers press between my legs. "That was very pretty, what you did for me this afternoon," his velvet voice in my ear from behind." You didn't give me time to say thank you, reciprocate."

His hand cups my sex, pressing the heel of his palm into the soft place above the bone there. His fingers part the lips that hide the gland beneath. My hips rock against him as I softly cry his name, clutching at his arms. He holds me tight, sliding a finger into the wet folds, then another. He whispers to me, calling me beautiful, telling me how wet I am, how perfect. He strokes the little bud. Grown now he captures it between his fingers, his thumb working it as I shudder in orgasm.

My head is on his shoulder, face turned to the skin of his neck. I lean against the length of his body, his arms crossed about the front of me, holding me there. My hair is loose, his face pressed into it. I pull him closer. There are sighs, and whispered words between us. Sometime long after my skirts have fallen back into place and night has come on fully he turns me to face him, his features obscured by the dark. I can feel his eyes on mine, his hand brushes my hair off my cheek. He bends in close, saying my name softly, I'm already smiling at him as he finishes with, "I love you."

My breath catches, my heart leaps at him. I know it's early for such declarations. I know too he is a careful man, says nothing lightly or without awareness. Pulling him close, my hands in his hair and around his back, I whisper it back to him.

I burrow into the sheets and blankets while I wait for him, breathing in our past lovemaking.

He is the counter to all of that. I heave a sigh of joy a hundred times a day for him and the desire that runs between us. It is the same for him and together we marvel at it.