The Filly & The Stud Ch. 03

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For better or for worse.
8.8k words
4.72
47.8k
20

Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 11/03/2005
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Leaning her forehead against the window, she felt the cool glass calm her, her eyes tracking the form in the yard. For whatever reason, he did not like the riding lawnmower, and instead used an old fashioned push one that he had found in one of the barns. Moving at almost a jog, he went line by line, meticulously cutting her grass. He was cute when he did, stripped down to his shorts and sunglasses. Next, she knew, he would clean the hot tub and the deck, and if she kept up her pace of writing on this paper, the outside of her house would be pressure washed before dinner.

With a sigh, she pulled back, walked around her desk, and dropped down into the chair. A slow gaze circled the room, traipsing across the diploma's she had earned in her life, the prestigious awards she had been given, and pictures of people and places that she valued. He had come in earlier to light the fire in the small fire places, but other than that he rarely entered her office, leaving it for her to work. Even on Saturday's like today. Damn that man and his discipline!

Finally she focused back on the screen, back on the words she should be, needed to be, typing and forced her fingers back to the keyboard. The paper would not write itself, and the grant that she was operating under required certain things by certain dates. There was work to be done!

She heard his footsteps approach, then pass, and she knew he was in the laundry room. She could hear him humming, and then Tiglon went by, followed shortly there after by Liger, who at least stopped in the door to look at his mommy. But then he was past, too, and she heard him walk by again. It was a strange game he played, putting treats in his pockets, leading the cats to follow him all over the place as they tried to figure out what smelled so good. But it kept them occupied and prevented them from bothering her, which was the point. But she wanted to follow him around, as well.

"I should get it out of my system." She realized that she was talking to herself, and sat back. Like an addict, she told herself. If she gave in, that would not help her at all. He might refuse her anyway, as she had made him promise to, to make herself work. Maybe she should just not let him come over, she thought. But that would require saying no to the hottest man alive, and she doubted her will power.

Standing, she softly tipsy toed out into the hallway, and looked out into the kitchen. He was standing in the pantry, back to her, digging through cans, and she silently approached, wrapping her arms around him.

"Hey baby." His hands reached down, enveloping her, and she smelled the freshly cut grass and the chemicals on him. Combined with his own scent, it was intoxicating.

"I'm weak."

"I know you are. You need your stud to take the pressure off?"

"Please, please, please!" She was surprised by the fact that she was begging, and he wasn't even doing anything to her. His hold on her was incredibly powerful, and when he turned and lifted her onto the counter, she could not help but smile at the evil grin on his face.

"You know what you do to me, don't you?"

"Yes. And I love it." He kissed her, long and hard, then pulled her shorts down, and dove into her pussy. She screamed, unable to help herself, as he sucked her clit into his mouth, and assaulted her pussy with his tongue, wave after wave of pleasure shooting up her spine, her body and mind reeling under the feeling he always gave her.

He was relentless, his tongue lashing her, driving into her as his hands were all over her, her ass, her face, her tits, groping, fondling, touching, exploring. Sucking her pussy, licking it, nibbling on it, devouring it, he made her cum over and over, her whole body shaking, everything else blocked out but the intense feeling of pleasure she was enjoying.

So when he stopped, she was surprised, sitting up to look into his eyes as he pulled her against him, shielding her from whatever was behind him. "There is somebody at the side door."

"Huh?" Her mind was not yet fully back on-line, and she only realized that play time was over when he pulled her shorts back up, then moved past the pantry to the door, and she heard it opening.

Angie walked in, with Traci in tow. "Somebody is looking for you. Bad moment?"

Jennifer smiled, trying her best to catch her breath surreptiously, wondering what the hell the woman could want here. "You go to the wrong house?"

"Apparently so. Markus told me I could find David at the horse farm, but they told me to come over here, but I guess I were not sure on the directions." Traci smiled at Angie, who was beaming with self-satisfaction, while trying hard to not get caught ogling David muscles as he moved back around the kitchen and took Jennifer in his arms.

"I thought we were going to meet tomorrow."

"I'm in a rush to wrap this up, it appears now that another company is making a bid for the development, and I want to be back in Charleston tonight to have it ready to present tomorrow." The woman was still smiling, but there was something deceitful about it, at least to Jennifer.

"Ok, let's talk." He indicated the front door, and the two walked outside, sitting on the steps. Jennifer could see them through the glass next to and in the door, and could see them both gesticulating, talking with their hands. Then she laughed, and touched his still naked shoulder, a move she thought WAY unnecessary.

"Young men...so gorgeous."

"Huh?"

"I said he's gorgeous. You ever get jealous when you see him at the stables with other women?"

"A little bit. He smiles and is friendly, maybe even flirty, with everybody. But it's just him, it doesn't really bother me."

"Sure?"

"Sure." She smiled at her friend, and then made a cupping motion with her hand. "No drink today?"

"Rich skipped his usual Saturday morning golf game. I'm rehydrating from the exertion." She held up a bottle of super overpriced luxury water. Of course. Dasani would not do.

"Congrats." Jennifer smiled, and then looked back out the window. Bitch, she thought, keep your hands off my boyfriend.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"I'm surgical with this bitch."

"You sure about that?" Eric did not seem convinced. Bespectacled, wearing a t-shirt that looked way out of place on his skinny frame, and dressed in rather unseasonably heavy blue jeans, he looked rather lost aboard the diving boat that had been their home for the last eight days.

"Positive. You just watch and be amazed." Turning to the boathouse, David yelled up to the young lady standing next to the captain. "Send the alert?"

"We're all clear for blast!"

"Roger that." Turning, he winked at the man, and then picked up the remote control, looking out across the water. Here goes nothing, he thought to himself. About a half ton worth of nothing. "Fire in the hole, fire in the hole, fire in the hole!" His voice echoed across the empty water, and he twisted the detonator.

One might have expected a muffled blast; maybe a mushroom shaped wave or a ripple in the water. A geyser maybe, a show of some kind. But one would have been mistaken.

The hull ruptured very cleanly, just as he had planned it, and the old cargo ship started to fill with water. Then there was another explosion, ripping another hole into the water line. But the weight was not even, and when the third charge went, bending the spine of the vessel, it weakened the already straining material to such a point that it cracked, like a two by four over a knee, both pieces sinking on their own. They sank beneath the water a bit faster than planned, so when the other four charges blew, neither piece turned as much as hoped for, but they had been overly optimistic. When they settled on the shallow ocean floor, the cutter was already above them, with David dressed in full diving gear.

"I'm going down to make sure all the charges blew."

"If they did, drinks are on me tonight." Eric was clearly relieved that the part of this job dealing with explosives was over.

"Can I get that in writing?" David rolled into the water, then waited as Traci followed his maneuver, smiling from behind her mask. He did not return the gesture, instead signaling that he was going down and slipping beneath the surface.

It was glorious, and the man was good to his word, so they all sat around the massive table at "Aw Shucks Oysters & Raw Bar", laughing at the funny things that had happened over the last two weeks, drinking to their accomplishment, and eating the food that their more than happy employer was paying for. They had come in ahead of schedule and under budget, two things apparently rather rare in the real estate business.

David was not impressed by the work, nor by the planning that the company had done. They had an Engineer, Eric, and that was about it. He had done a whirlwind recruiting tour of the local Air Force base, the Naval Weapons Station, and the College of Charleston, pulling a team together in three days. It had taken another three days to get the demo ready, inspect the ship, and have it towed to the site. Another six days of drilling, diving, prepping, and building charges, and now the backbreaking labor was finally over. He was glad. He missed his baby.

But there was something there, he admitted to himself, something to be had out here. He had never considered his skill in explosives to be all that marketable outside the law enforcement market, an area mostly closed to him due to physical limits imposed on his body by the explosion that had ended his military career. But apparently he had been wrong. Eric had been talking to him about it for two weeks now, and even now he would not let up.

"You should really go to school for it. With your skills and discipline, that would be a snap. Really, what you want are certifications, for building inspections and things like that. Commercial demolition man, I'm telling you! Big bucks!" The man loved his field, that much was clear.

"Not sure how good I am in the class room setting."

"You'd be fine. Just keep your eyes on the prize." He slapped the younger man on the back, downing the rest of his beer.

"I'll do that." David stood, pulling out his cell phone, and walked out onto the porch, flipping it open. "Hey baby."

"You guys done down there?" Despite the technology, he could always tell when she was in her car, because she talked louder then she needed to, not really trusting the hands free technology provided by Mercedes.

"Yeah, I'm coming home tomorrow."

"Who you talking to?" Traci had walked up, leaning against the railing, her body way too close to his for comfort.

"Jennifer." Focusing back on the phone in his hand, he tilted his head to side, listening to the love of his life telling him about how her study had been accepted for presentation at some conference out in Arizona, the smile on his face telling the world how happy he was. "I told you they would take it."

"Yes, you were right. Are you done playing with explosives now?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah."

"Not sure. I might...I might have found something."

There was a short silence, and he could tell that she was not happy with the answer. He did not blame her. Despite them not having known each other, the fact that an explosive device had almost killed him deeply affected the way she thought of this work. And she was not a fan. "You think this is something you want to keep doing?"

"Not that big a market, but it is a skill I have. One of few that's marketable."

"David..."

"We'll talk about it when I get home, ok?"

"Girlfriend mad?" Traci was still there, coming closer, and he took a step to the side to evade her.

"Who was that?"

"Traci is here."

"Do you need me to let you go?"

"No! No, I want to talk to you."

"I'll talk to you when you get back here." The line died, and he looked at the piece of plastic linking him to her. Son of a bitch!

"She nervous you playing with dynamite?"

"Yes, she's not a big fan of explosives."

"I like things that go bang." The look in her eyes again, that combination of lust and hunger he had seen before, as she moved towards him, her arms wrapping around his neck. Her face was clearly moving towards him to kiss, and for just a split second, he hesitated. Then he tilted his head to the side, hand at her jaw, gently diverting her.

"What are you doing?" Anger flared in her voice, and he stepped back, using the moment of indecision on her part to break the lock of her arms without having to use force, putting room between them.

"This isn't happening."

"Why not? What does she have? I'm here, I'll rock your world, and I won't try to hold you back." She smiled her most seductive smile, yet he somehow got the impression she had practiced it. Probably on live targets, he reasoned. "What do you want to be, her boy toy, or my partner in bed and in making a ton of cash?"

"What?"

"David, wake up! She's using you for sex! You're a smart guy, you can figure it out."

"What do you mean?" He suddenly realized that he had backed himself into a corner by moving along the railing, and now his only exit was blocked by her standing between a table to his right, and the massive stone waitering station to his left.

"I'll break it down for you. You are a hot young stud, who sees something in her. She's an attractive older lady, who sees a big dick in you. Come on, she's a doctor who has dated nothing but doctors for ten years. You think that's going to change all a sudden? Her and Markus have been having lunch and shit for two months now!"

"What?"

"I found out about it three weeks ago. We were...reconciling, I guess, but when I found out, I broke it off. I pulled you down here not only to help me with this, but to get you away from her. Just see what you can do standing on your own!"

"Ah..."

She stepped in close again, surprisingly fast, her body pressing against his. Wow, those were big tits. Her eyes were on fire with desire, and her hands traced across his chest and broad shoulders, her voice a raw whisper. "I'll be so much better to you."

Jennifer sat on the floor of the kitchen, watching the small metal door. He had cut it into the larger wooden door before leaving for Charleston, convincing her of its genius.

"You can let the cats out, and they can come in whenever they are ready! Nothing else can come in, and they can't go out unless you want them to! That's genius!"

She was not convinced, but by now realized that it wasn't actually that bad, once her two babies had gotten used to the collars that held the magnets acting as keys. The two could not escape the backyard, and so now she could come home, open the door, and then close it to keep the bugs out. But her babies could play until they were tired, and then come home.

Or in this case, until they were soaked by the rain. She wondered if they had been huddled under the porch, waiting for it to pass and gotten soaked, or just running around the yard getting soaked. Her bet was on the latter. Tiglon had let himself be dried somewhat with a towel, but Liger was having none of that, running around the kitchen and shaking himself. He looked like a porcupine, with hair sticking in all directions.

Tiglon came back over, finally satisfied he was presentable enough after a serious self-cleaning affair, and sat in her lap, looking up at his mommy, and giving off a pitiful meow. She smiled, rubbing the small critter, and made a noise right back.

"I'm not sure he agrees."

With a start she jumped up, making the small cat leap from her lap and run from the room. David was standing in the living room, soaked to the bone himself, dripping wet. "I brought you something."

He held up the wet paper bag, setting it on the counter. It almost disintegrated, but managed to hold together until he reached in, and pulled out a blue looking construct. She recognized the cheap freezer paper sold by grocery stores to keep your goods cool until you got home, and he unwrapped the second layer, revealing a box made of Gel cold packs, tapped around something she could not see with masking tape.

"Tada!"

"What is it?" She was confused by his sudden appearance, confused by his good mood, and confused by the fact that he had managed to get into her house without making any noise, take of his shoes, surprise her, and still be so damn hot despite being dripping wet. All her anger had fled in the face of his gorgeousness, and the strange gift he had brought.

"Open it, you'll see." Leaning over, he gave her a wet kiss, and she pushed him away.

"You're like a wet dog."

"Take a bath with me."

"Maybe." Pulling a knife out of the drawer, she cut through the tape, the lifted off the top pack, the rest of them falling aside.

It was a Banana Split. Delivered to her door by the crazy wet man from Ye Ol' Fashioned Ice Cream, wrapped in all the insulation he would have been able to find locally to help it survive the trip home. It was cold outside, that had probably helped. It even had the cherries she loved so much, and she didn't even have to ask about the flavors. He was a freak for attention to details like that.

Without a word she walked by him into the hallway, into the guest bedroom, and into her guest bath. Pulling open the closet, she grabbed two massive beach towels, and headed back into the living room. "Get naked. Right now."

He was a bit stunned, but he complied, watching her spread the towels on the floor. He didn't resist as she pushed him down, then got naked herself, setting the ice cream on his chest. He winced at the cold, but the feeling of her wet pussy on his crotch made all that go away instantly.

"You are a crazy man."

"A crazy man who could not stand to be away any longer."

"You came through the rain. On your bike, I take it."

"That kinda sucked."

"Speed any?"

"Not really. People out driving like shit, I had to be careful as fuck to not get run over. I was even wearing my little road guard vest and everything."

"Really?" She had started rocking back and forth on his cock, and it was responding, poking her pussy, drenched in her juices. "I might have you wear that to bed one day."

"One question?"

"Go ahead."

"I might be a bit of a buzz kill."

"You wanna fuck first?"

"Oh yeah!"

They wore each other out. It was long past the point where his sexual energy was far past hers, by now they had come to a sort of rhythm, a kind of unspoken agreement, the sort of dance of bodies and passion that two people develop over time and experience, the kind that left them both soaked in sweat, out of breath, and a mess of ice cream on the towels.

Her pussy had sorely missed him, and her ass ached for his big cock. When he touched her tits and sucked on them, she wondered how she had made it without the feeling of him pleasing her. He seemed to be full of pent up passion, and when she went down on him, he blew a load down her throat that had be swallowed be believed. His tongue on her clit felt so good, she screamed herself hoarse as he ate her, then tried to fight him off as he put her on all fours, which only made him want it more, her goal the entire time.

He carried her into the shower upstairs, and after another torrid attempt at killing one another, they finally snuggled up in her bed, kissing softly, enjoying the after glow that comes from such great lovemaking.

"What were you going to ask?"

"You and Markus?"

"What about us?"

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"You guys' haven't been seeing each other lately?"

"No, why?"

"Just asking." Kissing her, he cradled her in his arms, and they softly drifted off to sleep. He was out first, a byproduct of his talent to fall asleep whenever he was ready, but also because she tried to stay awake, to see him sleep. He was restful and at peace when he did it.

She knew what he was alluding to, and knew were such suggestions had come from. Markus had been making suggestions lately as well, but she had turned down all his requests for a meeting. "Son of a bitch," she whispered into the darkness. But didn't matter. After all, her baby had come back to her.