Page 17 of Brooding Mountain Man

Her gaze was on my cock, which I’d just freed from my jeans and underwear. She was actually licking her lips. But she still wore too many clothes.

“Get over here,” she said. “I want to show you something.”

She worked at removing her jeans as I crossed the short distance to where she sat. The sleeping bag was cool against my bare feet, making me aware that every single nerve in my body was on full alert.

Wearing only her silky briefs, she rose up on her knees, her hand wrapping around my shaft before I stopped moving. Nothing turned me on more than knowing how excited she got over pleasuring me. She seemed to enjoy giving more than receiving, and so did I.

Within seconds she had me hard as a rock and begging for release. I closed my eyes and savored the feel of her mouth around me. It was nothing compared to being buried deep inside her, but I’d have that soon enough.

“Oh, fuck baby,” I said. “Okay, keep that up and I’m going to come in your mouth.” I had to add, “And that’s not what I want.”

Those words seemed to do the trick. She released me but remained on her knees, one hand cupping her breasts.

“What do you want to do?” she asked, giving me that teasing smile that always did it for me.

“I want you on all fours,” I said.

That brought an even bigger smile, followed by her doing exactly what I wanted. She settled all fours on top of the sleeping bag, but I didn’t slide into her—not just yet. Instead, I lowered myself to my arms and licked her from behind, my tongue expertly moving over her clit in the way I knew she liked.

This was a new position, and I was surprised at how much she enjoyed it. She was gasping and moaning within seconds, seeming to have forgotten we were out in the woods. But nobody was around to hear us. If they were, there were hundreds of acres they could escape to for some peace and quiet.

“Oh God, just like that,” she said. “Yes, yes, yes. Oh, fuck. Oh, Lucky.”

Lucky. All my life I’d thought of my name as a bad joke. I had to have been the unluckiest kid alive. But I know even I had it better than some.

Since meeting Georgia, though, I felt more deserving of the name than anyone. And now we had a beautiful family and theperfect cabin not too far from the lodge where we’d first met. I ran a successful logging operation with one of several small crews in town. I’d learned the power of delegating—of turning things over to other people and trusting them to do a good job. Rarely was I disappointed.

“Oh, God, yes,” she said again, and then she let out a long, high-pitched wail that could probably be heard for miles.

When she went quiet, I knew she was ready for me. I rose up on my knees and guided my tip into her. Gone were the days of using a condom. We’d only done that the first few times. We’d both agreed we wanted a family, and when it happened, it happened.

Even now, if I got her pregnant again, we’d both consider it a good thing. Yes, our schedules were busy, but we always had room in our home and our lives for one more.

I closed my eyes as I slid deep inside her. Every time, it felt like coming home. It was like we were made for each other. Her pussy hugged my cock. A perfect fit.

“Harder,” she said. “Fuck me harder. I want to feel that cock deep inside me.”

The wind blew through the trees outside the tent, and that was the only sound but the slap, slap, slap of our bodies banging together as I thrust in and out of her. I went deep, savoring the feel of her surrounding me.

“Your hard cock feels so good inside me,” she said. “Yes, just like that. Fuck me. Oh God, I think I’m going to come again.”

Only then did I realize she was holding herself up with one arm. Her other hand was between her legs, massaging her clit and taking her toward her second orgasm in a row.

The realization that she was touching herself made it harder to hold out, but I did. I was a pro at that. I always made sure she came at least once before I came, and that one time was reserved for quickies. I’d been so caught up in finally getting her to myselffor a night, I’d forgotten to find a way to touch her while I was inside her.

“Oh,” she cried out, this time drawing the syllable out over several long seconds.

And then I felt her walls contract around me, squeezing me, making it even tougher to hold out. But it was okay. She was coming. I could tell by the way she arched her back and tilted her head toward the ceiling of the tent.

I finally let myself go, and within seconds, an orgasm was racing through my body. I cried out, my roar similar to the noise a bear would make. That would scare off anyone who dared to get too close to our tent, because I had a full weekend of lovemaking planned. And what I wanted most was privacy.

As we settled into our zipped-together sleeping bags, I was suddenly aware that in some ways, I hadn’t changed too much since falling in love with Georgia. I still wanted to live way up in the mountains, away from other people. But now, I wanted my wife and kids there with me.