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 Post subject: Twilight: McDade - An Over The Top outtake(NC-17)
PostPosted: Sun Oct 04, 2009 11:20 am 
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Outtake from the fanfic story Over The Top. Written for Amymorgan, who was the highest bidder in my Support Stacie Author Auction. She won an 8,000-word story, and generously agreed to allow it to be shared publicly.

AH/AU. Rated NC-17 for graphic content. Disclaimer: all recognizable characters are the property of their respective owners. Original characters and story belong to starfish422.


-o-

EPOV

This is, by far, the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done. I have climbed rock faces and hiked active volcanoes. I’ve stumbled through the streets of random cities, drunk and vulnerable. I’ve eaten highly questionable tacos in Mexico and washed them down with a volatile combination of tequila and cerveza. I’ve even met my lover’s family – after I broke his heart.

Some of those events scared me at the time, some frightened me later on when I had regained my proper senses, enough to realize what could have happened to me.

But never in my life have I been as terrified as I am now, staring down my date with destiny.

His eyes are brown and alert; his hair dark, coarse and spiky. He’s dusty, yet the leather he’s putting on gleams as though it was just polished. He watches me keenly, sensing my discomfort; I stand facing him so I can bolt if he makes one wrong move. He towers over me, and I know he knows who holds the power. He stamps his foot and I jump a good four feet backwards, my heart ending up somewhere behind my Adam’s apple. He whinnies impatiently.

That’s right – whinnies. Because this monster, the terrifying creature who will certainly bring me to my untimely end, is a horse named Wish. He lives on a ranch – what Jasper tells me is a “small” ranch – in McDade, Texas. My love, the man who has agreed to be my husband, has brought me here to an old school friend’s house, for what he casually deems a “pleasure ride”.

To me, a pleasure ride can be a lot of things – a Sunday drive or a hot lovemaking session. But straddling a huge, terrifying animal who will throw me off at the first chance, trampling me to death – no thanks.

Which is exactly what I told Jasper when he first suggested this. I thought I was quite unequivocal in my response; and yet here I am, mostly because he shamed me into going, reminding me of all the aforementioned acts of bravery.

“You’re scaring him,” remarks Andrea, the stable hand, in a bored tone as she runs over his back, sides and legs with a brush.

“Ha!” I retort. “I’m scaring him? That’s a fucking joke.”

“Horses sense fear,” she replies with a roll of her eyes. “You being nervous is making him nervous. It’ll only get worse when you mount…”

“Okay,” Jasper cuts in, taking my hand. “Thank you, Andrea, for the words of encouragement.”

She shrugs and continues to ready the horse for his saddle, smacking her chewing gum. I wonder how the horse feels about that infernal noise?

Jasper takes my shoulders, trying to turn me to face him, but I’m not taking my eyes off that monster. The horse’s flanks shudder, and I wonder briefly if he’s warming up his muscles to get ready to throw me off. “Why is he twitching like that?” I whine to Jasper.

“Flies,” Jasper replies, trying not to smirk. “He’s knocking the flies off.”

“Oh. I guess that’s okay,” I allow grudgingly.

“Beautiful,” Jasper soothes, “Everything is going to be fine. I’ve ridden hundreds of times – when I was in high school I used to come out here a few times a week to ride with Debbie. And I’m fine.”

“You never got thrown off?” I ask critically.

He hesitates. “Well…I actually did get thrown once or twice when the horse stumbled. I flew through the air, I fell, I rolled. I was fine, aside from having the breath knocked out of me for a few minutes.”

“What? Oh my god!” I panic, and Wish startles, his hooves clattering on the concrete barn floor.

“Take him outside,” Andrea says to Jasper through gritted teeth, “before he gets us all killed.”

Outside, Jasper takes my hands in his and bids me to look at him as he speaks. “Edward, Wish is a lovely horse. I rode him ten years ago when he was 9 and he was beautiful then. He’s a Morgan and Quarter Horse...”

“I don’t know what that means,” I mumble.

“It means he’s got intelligence, he’s got a sweet personality, a good smooth gait so you won’t bounce all over the place, and he likes people. He’s also strong, and big enough to carry someone of your height. And despite your mumblings about him being a monster – yes, I heard you – he’s 16 hands. You’re tall, beautiful; you can’t ride a Shetland pony. 16 hands is a good, medium-sized horse,” he finishes.

“He looks jumpy to me,” I maintain, unconvinced.

“It’s the first time he’s met you, and you’re nervous, jumping around and raising your voice. In his barn. You’re making him jumpy. I promise you, he’s the steadiest trail horse I’ve ever ridden; once we get out there, you’ll both be fine. Now – you sit here and chill out. I’m going to go in and tack up Zoe; I’ll be back in a bit.”

I sit outside the barn, in the shade of a large cottonwood tree. It’s late May, and we’re in Austin for an extended version of the Memorial Day weekend; combining a celebration of Mother’s Day, Harry’s birthday and Father’s Day. I admit grudgingly to myself that it is a beautiful day; it’s sunny and warm, but it’s not likely to become unbearably hot. Locusts sing in the tall grass of the paddock nearby; and if I could forget about what I’m about to do, I could almost enjoy the peacefulness of the pastoral setting.

Too soon, Jasper and Andrea come out of the barn, each leading one of the horses. Jasper’s horse, Zoe, is a large black creature with white on her chest and around the bottoms of her front legs. Both horses have one of those large saddles, the kind with the tooling on the leather and a large, dangerous looking handle on the front. Jasper also has some leather pouches attached to his saddle.

“Okay, let’s get you up,” says Andrea innocuously.

“Not with you here,” I retort, but the innuendo is lost on her.

“Fine,” she huffs. “I have work to do anyways. Good luck, Jasper,” she says, thrusting the reins into his hand, and stalks away.

“Now…you can get me up,” I smirk at him, raising my eyebrows suggestively.

To which he rolls his eyes. Not quite the reaction I was hoping for. “Uh-uh,” he says. “You’re not going to distract me from this. Come on,” he beckons, leading both horses to a fence, where a couple of longish straps hang – they look like nylon dog leashes. He clips one to Zoe’s bridle, tethering her there; then leads Wish alongside a large block.

“Now,” he instructs, “you step up on the block and face the horse.” I obey, and he continues, “Put your right hand on the back of the saddle, and your left hand on the horn.”

“Also known as the stone crusher,” I grumble.

“Oh, just do it,” he dismisses. “Just be glad Wish doesn’t bloat.” I don’t even ask what that means. He continues to instruct me until I am actually seated on the horse. He measures the straps of the stirrups, adjusting the length till he’s satisfied, then hands me the reins. He clips another long leash onto Wish’s bridle, holding the long length of nylon in his hands.

“Okay," he says. “We’re riding Western style. No surprise there – this is Texas. This horse neck reins; that means you should hold both reins in one hand. When you want to guide him to the right, move the reins over to the right – don’t pull, just make it so the rein lies against the left side of his neck. He’ll move away from it. Do the opposite if you want to go left.” He holds my hand, showing me how far to go to each side.

“Remember to breathe,” he continues. “If you’re nervous, you might hold your breath, and that’ll make Wish nervous.” Yeah, like I need a reminder. “You want to have good posture in you back, but you don’t want to be stiff. Your heels should be lower than your toes, but not too low.

“I’m going to lead you around the ring a few times, and then you’re going to do it yourself. Take a deep breath, and just relax.”

He makes a chirping sound and the horse lurches slightly beneath me. He leads us into the ring and we begin a slow, counterclockwise circle around the perimeter. He continues to talk, reminding me to breathe and to concentrate on the muscles in my body, asking me what they’re doing. “Think about your back,” he says. “Think about whether you’re sitting upright, and think about whether you’re clenching the muscles. Let the lower half of your body roll slightly with the movement of the horse as he walks. Feel the saddle through your seat. See if you can feel the horse’s mouth through the reins – it’s difficult for a beginner, especially when you’re neck reining. A rider is in constant communication with the horse, with your hands and legs, and with your voice. If you talk, his ears are going to come back to listen to you. Keep your voice low, and try it out.”

“Wish,” I say, feeling a little foolish. “Wish, you’re going to be a good boy,” I tell him in a low, singsong voice. “You’re not going to kill me today, Wish.” As Jasper said, his ears do swivel back towards me.

“Excellent,” Jasper says. We have now made a full circuit of the ring and are on our second pass. Zoe, tethered outside in the paddock, watches the show with…amusement?

When we have completed a second circuit, Jasper stops us. “Good,” he says. “In a moment I’m going to step back; I’m going to keep holding on to the lead, and you’re going to ride in a circle around me. Wish is still going to listen to me because I have the lead, but he’s going to listen to you as well.” He steps back and continues to instruct. “I want you to squeeze your calves gently against his sides and see what happens.”

I do as asked, and Wish does nothing.

“He’s not taking you seriously yet,” Jasper smirks. “He knows you’re new. This time, squeeze your calves, and make a quick pelvic thrust forward in the saddle, so he knows you want him to go.” I obey, and Wish starts forward, circling Jasper like a pencil drawing a path around the point of a geometry compass. “Good. He may try to take advantage of the fact that you’re new, and try to get out of working. If he tries to stop, make sure you have some slack in the reins, then give that little thrust again. He’ll eventually figure out that you’re serious.”

“Am I going to have to do that the whole trip?” I ask.

“No,” he grins. “Just circling the ring is boring for him. Once we get out on the trail, he’ll be more enthusiastic about working.” For several moments, we continue circling him in slow motion, restarting Wish several times.

“Now I’m going to unclip the lead line, and you’ll be guiding Wish on your own,” he says.

“All right,” I answer, and realize that since the beginning of my second trip around the ring, I have been too focused on Wish and on my own posture, to be very nervous. I’m surprised…more than surprised – shocked – at how relaxed I feel. Allowing my lower body to feel the roll of Wish’s hindquarters as he walks, thinking about my posture and paying attention to what he’s doing has me quite absorbed. I actually feel pretty comfortable, and the thought of riding by myself doesn’t terrify me…mostly.

“Great,” he says quietly as he unclips the lead from the bridle, then backs away. “Okay, beautiful,” he says. “You know what to do.”

And I do it. Wish responds to me and I only have to recall his attention once. Jasper stands in the same spot, watching with a smile on his face as we circle him. He encourages me to make the circle a bit wider; then to guide Wish so that we’re walking in the path that is worn around the perimeter of the ring. After I circle a few times, he tells me he’s going to go get Zoe and join me. A moment later, we’re both circling the ring. We continue doing that for fifteen minutes, Jasper occasionally calling out pointers to me.

“Great job!” he eventually says. “Ready to hit the trail?”

"Not hardly," I reply. “But let’s go.”

He brings Zoe to sidle up beside me and leans over to give me a kiss. “You sure do look sexy up there, cowboy.”

I grin. “You do too,” I admit.

“Thanks,” he smiles, that broad smile that makes my heart quicken.

With him in the lead, we head out of the ring and across the paddock. Andrea opens the paddock gate and we are out into a large, open field. The horses still in the paddock call after us – nickering, Jasper calls it. The horses head across the field, side by side.

As we ride, we talk. It’s not often that we get actual alone time when we’re visiting Austin, between spending time with Anneliese and Harry and visiting one or two of Kas’ friends who want to see us when we’re in town. Em and Rosie weren’t able to make the trip this weekend, though; so that gives us a bit more time for just us. We’ve agreed not to talk about wedding plans this weekend, though getting Anneliese onboard with that wasn’t easy. She understood, though, when we told her we just wanted to have a relaxing weekend with them. Last night we went out for dinner at Trio and had a really nice time. The whole Whitlock family have become as dear to me now as my own family – soon, they will be my family.

Around us, the fields stretch out, with rolling hills and tall grasses waving gently in the breeze. Trees dissect the property into individual fields, and soon we are out of view of the house. The owners, Don and Marie, are out of town for the weekend. Andrea is Marie’s niece; she’s living with them for the summer and working as their stablehand. Jasper’s school friend Debbie is their daughter; she no longer lives here but when Jasper called to ask if we could have the use of the horses and the fields for an afternoon, she enthusiastically gave her permission. An hour or two ago, I was cussing her out for it – in my head, of course. Now, I’m enjoying this tremendously. After my initial jitters – er, panic – subside, I find it very peaceful, out here in the open fields. Just me, Jasper and the horses.

After an hour or so, we come across a good-sized pond. “We’re almost at the back of their property now,” Jasper says. “What do you say to stopping here?”

“Yeah,” I agree. I’m hot and sweaty, and the dust is sticking to the sweat. We both dismount, and Jasper pulls a blanket and a small thermal lunch bag out of his saddle bag; then removes the saddles from the horses, laying them on the ground, upside down on the saddle blankets. I stretch my muscles, wincing as I flex my glutes and thigh muscles.

“How’s your ass feel?” Jasper grins, catching my grimace.

“Sore,” I reply.

“Mine too,” he winces.

“What? Mr. I've-Ridden-Hundreds-of-Times is sore?” I tease.

“Well, yeah,” he grins. “I haven’t been on a horse since I finished college. The muscles get out of the habit.”

I drag my arm across my forehead, wiping the dust-caked sweat from my face. “Come on, beautiful,” Jasper says. “Let’s strip off and go for a swim.”

“Yes,” I agree enthusiastically, my shirt already halfway off my back before he finishes his sentence.

“Wow, I didn’t even have to convince you,” he smirks at me.

“Nope. It’s hot.” Jasper tethers the horses in the shade of a tree, where they can both graze, and reach the water if they’re thirsty. Then he joins me in stripping down to the skin. I’m about to wade in when he suggests we jump off the dock.

“Debbie and I used to swim here all the time,” he says. “It’s about ten feet deep off the end of the dock – fine to jump. Don’t dive, though.”

"I assume you and Debbie brought swimsuits," I tease, giving his bare bottom a light smack.

"Well...usually," he smirks back.

In seconds, he and I are both plunging feet first into the water. The temperature isn’t too cold to be enjoyable – just nice. I immediately feel better. I’ve never gone skinny-dipping before. It’s so freeing, until…

“Wait,” I say to Jasper. “There aren’t any fish in this pond, are there?”

“No,” he replies. “Why?”

“Fish…nibble on things,” I tell him. He throws his head back and laughs loudly; then he gets a wicked look on his face. He disappears under the water, and I wonder what he’s up to, until I feel his hands on my ass under the water. A second later, my cock has gone from the cool water into his warm mouth. I lean my head back into the water and moan. It’s all too brief, of course, as Jasper needs to surface for air.

“What’s what you were saying about nibbling?” he murmurs as he wraps himself around me.

“Mmm,” I answer. “Guess this is pond is stocked with angelfish.” He groans at the terrible pun, then makes a fish face at me, and I dunk him under the water. For half an hour or so, we play, splashing, yelling and laughing; just enjoying the complete privacy we have here. I tell Kas to grab the one of the rungs of the dock’s ladder and float on his back. When he does, I slide my hands under his ass to keep him from sinking, and I go down on him, right there in the pond. He twists and bucks, floating nearly weightless as I suck him off; and when he comes, his moans are absorbed into the greater presence of sounds around us – the trees, the locusts, the birds, the breeze through the tall grass. When I release him and he stands up, he’s so fucking beautiful with his curls dripping water onto his bare shoulders – like a mythical god of the deep. He looks so at home in the water, I seriously consider a new nickname for him. Poseidon seems about right.

He kisses me deeply, and with his broad smile, asks how he can reciprocate. I take his hand and lead him out of the water, back to where the blanket is folded under the tree. We spread the blanket and stretch out under the tree, still naked. I lie on my back, looking up into the leaves of the great oak tree above me; Jasper lies on his side, stroking and kissing my neck and shoulders. He works his way down my chest, spending long agonizing moments on my nipples, alternating his mouth and fingers on each. I’ve never been with anyone would could push every one of my erotic buttons, the way Jasper does.

By the time he reaches my abs, my cock is painful, dripping pre-cum – it pulses so strongly that it feels like a soundless beacon, beckoning Jasper southward. Still my angel takes his time, gradually getting closer to my hipbones, where he traces my “sex vee”, as he calls it – the valley between my abdominal muscles and my hip – with his tongue. This is slow, sweet and tantalizing – we’re not in a rush, we’re not tired out after a long day of work, and we don’t have to be quiet. Kas seems determined that he’s going to use that to his full advantage – or rather, to our mutual advantage.

Eventually his mouth has travelled low enough that he could pay attention to my cock, but fuck me if he doesn’t slide right on past it, lying on his stomach between my legs so he can take my sac into his mouth. With his very talented tongue, he rolls each ball around his mouth, and once in a while he presses his chin into my perineum, gently stimulating my prostate. Every time he does I just about jump off the blanket, it feels so fucking amazing. I’ve told him before that he could charge a lot of money for the blowjobs he gives – he is so good at it. Fuck, he’s good at everything.

Finally, after teasing me for half an hour – and swatting my hands away when I try to stroke my cock – he slides his tongue up the underside of my shaft. I shudder when he reaches the tip, my hands clutching the blanket. He licks the pre-cum from the head, humming his approval. My ass muscles clench, trying to lift me closer to his mouth, but he won’t be hurried. He is the king of the slow burn, and I am completely at his mercy. His tongue traces around the outside of the head, then slides up and down the underside of the head a couple of times.

“Oh god, Kas, please,” I beg. “Fuck, angel, I want you to suck me.” He doesn’t reply, but takes the head of my cock into his mouth, very carefully nibbling on the sensitive skin beneath the head and bathing it with his tongue. He releases me for a moment to lick his lips, and then takes me in his mouth again, sliding his smooth lips halfway down my length. After sliding back up and moistening his lips again, he takes my full length; I cry out at finally, finally feeling the touch I’ve been longing for. Still he takes his time, slowly and steadily sliding his mouth up and down my length; his lips touch my pubic hair each time he takes me down his throat.

His touch is still light and teasing, nowhere near what I want, what I need to bring me to my climax. Gradually he increases the pressure, just a little bit at a time, and my whole body trembles. He adds his hand to the base of my cock, squeezing and releasing as his head bobs up and down. I am this close, and he fucking knows it. I just need a tiny bit more pressure…

He releases me from his mouth and hoarsely asks, “You ready to come, beautiful?” My reply is a near-unintelligible wail, and he continues, “Then come for me.” His mouth engulfs my cock and sucks hard, his hand pumping my shaft, and I fucking explode. It feels like every nerve in my body ruptures as my orgasm rips through me. I have no control over the sounds that come from me – as though an unseen force is speaking through me. Kas sucks every drop from me, leaving me gasping and weak, like he’s swallowing my strength along with my jizz.

When I have ceased to tremble and spasm, he releases me. My whole body seems to collapse, no longer held in his electric grasp. He slides up beside me and lays his head on my outstretched arm, snuggling into me.

“Oh my god,” is my breathless comment, and I can feel his cheeks lift into a smile as his face is pressed against me.

“Not quite a god; but perhaps a demi-god?” he quips. I am too wiped out tell him how ironic his comment is, considering my earlier thoughts on Poseidon. Between my earlier nerves, the riding, the swimming and the earth-shattering blowjob, I am fucking exhausted. I pull him tighter, kissing his forehead, and almost before my lips leave his skin, I am drifting off to sleep.

-o-

The sun has changed position considerably by the time I awake. Jasper is still beside me, stretched out on his stomach. I love the way he sleeps, with his hands tucked in under his shoulders – it’s very childlike and innocent. His curls are wild, tousled from swimming and then drying in the breeze. I am starving now, and I reach for the small knapsack Jasper packed.

Inside is a soft thermal cooler bag, the kind that holds six cans of soda. In it is cheese and fruit, and two bottles of water that were obviously frozen when they went into the cooler, keeping the contents cold as they thawed enough to drink. I crack open one of them and down half of it before looking through the rest of the knapsack. I pull out an unopened box of Triscuits, and below them, a small zippered bag. I smirk broadly, knowing what the zippered bag contains. This is our condoms-and-lube travel kit. Jasper knew what he was up to when he packed this bag; guess I know now why he insisted on coming out here in the first place. Dangerous and subversive, I remind myself, mentally appending sneaky to the list. Wonder how long he’s been planning this.

Well, it seems a shame to let all this advance planning go to waste. Trying to be quiet, I open up the Triscuits and snack on some cheese and crackers to take the edge off my hunger. When I’m no longer famished, I pack them back in the bag. Then I move to where Jasper’s bare feet lie, soles up, on the edge of the blanket. Starting at his Achilles tendon, I begin kissing and licking up the backs of his legs, moving slowly and gently. For several moments there is no response; but soon, out of the corner of my eye, I see his toes curl slightly. A-ha, I think to myself, now I’ve got your attention.

He moves slightly, twisting his body one way and then the other as he stretches out the kinks from sleeping. My lips have reached the backs of his thighs, and he shivers when my tongue dips down to caress the soft skin of his inner thigh, first one side and then the other. “Mmm,” he hums his enjoyment of this attention, prompting me to travel lower to tease the back of his scrotum. “Fuck,” he sighs, “that’s nice.”

Nice? That’s almost an insult, though I know he doesn’t mean it that way. Nevertheless, I decide I must not be bringing my A-game. I push his legs apart, spreading them fairly wide, and move to lie on my stomach between them. From here, I can lick, suck, nibble and otherwise worship his balls and his cock, the head of which faces me as it points downward towards his feet. I have to lower my chin till it’s resting on the blanket, but I’m able to slip the head into my mouth and suck on it. He wriggles, the muscles in his legs and ass clenching and releasing; arching his back, he pushes toward me, attempting greater penetration. I let go of it altogether, ignoring his groan of protest, and move to his balls. After the teasing he did earlier, I do believe turnabout is fair play.

From here, I have easy access to his ass, and I grab the lube, which I have already opened, sitting beside me. I dribble some on my finger, and gently massage his opening, still sucking and nibbling his scrotum. He opens so easily for me, always ready. One of the things I love about Jasper is that he can, in the presence of others, seem reserved when he wants to – even cold at times, when he has put on his Jazz face. Only I know the ardor, the consuming fire, within him; only I know how passionately he responds to my advances, how voraciously he pursues me. And for the rest of our lives, only I will know the delight and the privilege of having his delicious body open up to accept me within him, to bring him pleasure and draw my own from him.

Of course, the best part of all of this is that I feel exactly the same way about him – as much sex as I had before I met him, it was nothing like the sex life I now share with my angel. I feel insatiable, hungry for him all the time. The nature of this sex is so different too – we spend as much time kissing and just fucking making out as we do actually making love. My heart is as involved in the act as my cock is; even my body heat now seems to radiate from my heart, rather than from my crotch.

It’s immeasurably different, the distinction between buying a CD versus attending the symphony in person.

Jasper is now groaning beneath me with two of my fingers in him; his low vocalizations urge me deeper. “Ungh, beautiful,” he moans, “that feels so fucking good.” In response, I ease my fingers back out of him, and he growls.

“Patience,” I murmur, reaching for a condom. When he hears the package rip, he calms, knowing my intention, and waiting patiently. After I have put it on and lubed it up, I drizzle a touch more lube on him. He flinches, the lube slightly cooler than his warm body. I grasp his hips and pull up. “On your knees,” I quietly instruct, and he complies immediately, supporting his upper body with his hands. I massage his beautiful ass, giving him a few little slaps to watch the taut muscles jar in reaction. In low tones, he begs me to take him, his desire reaching the breaking point. I can no longer deny him. Giving him what he needs, I enter him and keep pressing forward; he begins a long, low moan, building to a loud, guttural groan as I fill him completely.

“Oh, my god,” he gasps. “Stop…don’t move…fuck…I almost came just from that…” Having plans for him after I drill his ass, I definitely don’t want him to come yet; I still completely. He pants, struggling to retain control; I trace soft lines on his lower back and hips while I wait. After several moments, he relaxes, his chest sinking lower to the ground and his head dropping.

“Okay?” I ask.

He laughs. “You’re much, much better than okay. Please – proceed.”

I grasp his hips and push him forward slightly, then pull him back towards me, so that he is the one moving, controlling the speed and depth of our congress. Releasing my hold on him, I remain still, and he continues to rock forward and back. Each time he rocks back against me, he bumps me gently. The effect is that when I clench my ass and thighs to hold myself from upright, it causes my pelvis to tip forwards, giving him that extra little bit of deep penetration. He grunts every time my groin makes contact with his ass. Eventually he increases his speed and thrust so that our skin slaps as our bodies meet.

The obscene sounds combine with the serenity and the openness of the outdoors to make this a very primal experience, and suddenly I’m the one who needs a minute. I lean over his back, wrapping my arms around his waist and holding him tightly to still him. “Wait,” I pant. “Too close. I love your ass, baby. Fuck…I need a minute.” Again, he drops his chest, the motion flexing his spine away from me. “Put you arms down, rest your head on them,” I tell him, and he falls immediately. One of my hands moves to gently pinch and twist his nipples; the other goes to his cock. “Tell me if you’re getting close, angel,” I warn him. “I don’t want you to come yet.”

He nods, and his quiet moans continue as I gently draw him closer to the edge. Soft “ohs” escape his lips, those gorgeous lips that always wrap themselves around my cock so willingly. I watch him carefully to make sure he’s not ignoring my request not to come, knowing how easy it is to become carried away when you’re that worked up. Just as I’m about to say something, he speaks up.

“Ungh,” he says. “Wait…I’m close…” I release his cock and his nipple, and straighten up again. I carefully pull out of him, leaving him open and stark.

He whimpers, “Fuck, why are you torturing me?”

I grab the other condom packet, pressing it into his palm. He opens his eyes to peer at what I’ve placed there; then he rises onto one elbow to look back at me. “What’s this…do you want me to…?” I nod and watch as that beautiful smile spreads across his face. “Oh fuck, beautiful; you don’t have to ask me twice.” I remove the condom I’m wearing as he opens up the packet in his hand, standing up to put on the rubber. I look at him expectantly, waiting for him to tell me how he’d like me.

“I think you should stand up,” he says, one eyebrow raised as he speculatively at me. I do, and wait for him to continue. “I think you would look fucking hot as a tree hugger, beautiful,” he presses on. I tilt my head to the side, confused by his words. He shows me by turning me to face the trunk of the oak tree we’ve been lying under. He positions my legs so that they’re spread a bit wider than my shoulder width apart, then bends me forward at the waist, drawing my arms around the trunk. Finally I understand what he means.

I hear the cap of the lube bottle, and soon his slick fingers are rubbing the area around my anus; dipping into my opening, working inside me, coating me with the lube. When he turns his hand palm down, his fingers can reach my prostate enough to stimulate it gently. He takes the time now to do this, almost sending me into orbit before he even has his cock in me.

“Okay, beautiful,” he says softly. “It’s time for me to put my cock in your ass, stretch it and fill you up. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” I moan, my desperation clearly audible.

“You know,” he says, taking hold of my ass cheeks and spreading them apart, “you were awfully stingy, not letting me come.”

“I wanted you in my ass,” I barely manage to reply.

“You wanted,” he repeats. “Well, now it’s time for what I want. And I want you to hold on tight,” he whispers hoarsely.

For the briefest moment, I’m afraid. Jasper has never hurt me – would never hurt me. And yet, the first sexual experiences I had with other men were akin to rape, and Jasper’s sudden aggressive demeanor has made me unreasonably anxious. Fortunately, my angel senses my anxiety immediately, dropping the act to gently stroke my shoulder blades. He whispers, “Hey, beautiful – are you all right?”

Instantly my fears are allayed – of course it’s okay. This is Jasper, the man I trust more deeply than anyone else in my lifetime. He would quite literally choose death before intentionally hurting me or making me feel coerced; I would absolutely do the same if our situations were reversed. This is love and trust.

Of course it’s okay.

I turn my head to look over my shoulder at him; his eyes are watching me intently, waiting for my words to determine what happens next. “Yes,” I whisper. “I love you.”

He relaxes and smiles. “I love you too.” I turn my head back so that my shoulder, neck and cheek press against the rough oak bark – grateful we didn’t choose a cottonwood tree, the trunk of which would have been much more rough – and I hold on, as instructed. His hard cock penetrates me, and as with every single time he enters me, the exquisite pleasure engulfs me immediately. When he’s most of the way in, he takes my shoulders and slowly pulls himself towards me, sinking balls-deep and continuing to press on till he can’t push any harder against me. I moan at the sensation of being so completely filled, stretched to my limit beneath him. Our bodies fit each other perfectly, the cast to the mould.

“Christ…fuck! You're tight,” he pants, and I can only continue to moan in response. He withdraws and thrust again, hard. Our groans fill the air as he drills me over and over. I know I’ll have scratches on my face, and pressure marks, if not full bruising, on my shoulder. I don’t care. It’s been a few weeks since he topped me, and I need him – I need this, so much. I crave having him inside me; I have to writhe beneath him as he takes me. For a long time, I didn’t allow myself to need anyone. I was ignorant, thinking it would be a weakness if my body ached for one person’s touch. Jasper taught me; he showed me what I was missing. He showed me what I didn’t know about myself.

Now his expressions are growing in urgency; the strain in his voice is evident. It mirrors what my body is feeling, trying to hold back and make this last as long as possible. Doing this outside, feeling like we’re almost in the middle of nowhere; surrounded by trees and fields and open sky and wild creatures…it’s all so basic, the oldest of urges. I can’t hold back any longer. I tense, holding as tightly as possible to the trunk of the tree, and a raw keening sound escapes me. My release spills onto the ground and the base of the tree. My whole body spasms as I ride the top of this orgasm like a fucking bronco at a rodeo.

Behind me, Jasper groans, “Oh my god…I’m coming.” I urge him on, begging him to ride me hard. He grabs my hips, changing his angle so that his thrusts are as much upward as they are forward, and with each thrust, he lifts my feet off the ground slightly, shouting into the open air as he comes. Being taken so completely, hearing him go to pieces behind me, extends my pleasure. We push against each other, again and again, until we’re both ravaged, soaked with sweat and completely spent.

Jasper takes a moment to catch his breath; then after pulling out of me, he comes around beside my head and gently unlocks my hands from the tree. He helps me stand upright, and pulls me close to him, pressing my head to lie on his shoulder. “Thank you, thank you,” he whispers. “You’re amazing, Edward; so beautiful, so feral.”

I have tears, overwhelmed by our coupling and the tenderness Jasper now shows me, after having fucked me so powerfully. “Come lie down,” he whispers, leading me back to the blanket and indicating that I should lie on my stomach. After disposing of the condom, he straddles my thighs and starts to knead my back, working out the strain from me being bent over for so long. After my back, he moves up to the shoulder that bore the brunt of the impact with the tree, gently stroking it, massaging my arms, and kissing my face and neck where the tree bark scratched them.

When he’s finished, I feel better, rejuvenated and relaxed. He lies beside me, one leg thrown over my back. “I love you, Edward,” he murmurs to me. “I love our life together, and I love it when you give your gift to me. I love it when we make love slow and sweet; and I love it when we fuck hard and frantic. I love that in five months, we’re going to walk down the aisle and get married.”

I roll onto my side so I can be enfolded into his strong arms. “Yes,” is all I can reply – complete agreement with everything he’s said. There are so many facets of the life we share that combine to create what I can only describe as a charmed life. Sometimes I wonder if I will wake up and realize this has all been a dream, and that I’m still the stunted, closed-off Edward I used to be, living a half-life with no warmth and little passion. The thought makes me shudder.

“You’re not cold, are you, beautiful?” Jasper asks, misinterpreting my body’s signals.

“No,” I reply. “Just reminding myself again how glad I am that you came to find me; that you persisted even when I seemed like a lost cause.”

“You were never a lost cause,” he contradicts. “Not for me. Even though I resisted when you came back…I was scared. But I could never have turned you away, not for good. You and I are meant for each other, Edward.” He points to a pair of cottonwood trees a short distance away. “Look at those two trees. They’re so close at the base that they've grown up together, from the time that they were seedlings until now, when they're huge, strong trees. The trunks have grown around each other; the branches are intertwined. I’d bet that they even share a root system. You couldn’t remove one without killing the other, because it would no longer have its other half to balance it.” He takes my chin and turns my face to his. “That’s you and me, Edward. We are part of each other. Our trunks might have grown separately for a while, but now we’re laced together – all the way to the roots. There’s no undoing that now.”

I can’t answer; I can only pull his face to mine and kiss him deeply. I’m unspeakably moved and grateful for his words and his love.

We lie close together, our limbs wrapped around each other. After a while, his stomach grumbles and he chuckles. “If I could ignore the basic necessities of life, beautiful, I would stay here with you all day. Unfortunately…”

“I know,” I grin, disentangling myself from him. We take another quick dip in the pond, just to wash off the sweat and the lube, and then we dress. I pack up the blanket and the knapsack. The horses have waited patiently throughout our activities, and they look glad when Jasper saddles them up again. He gives me a leg up onto Wish, checking with me about whether I’m still okay – “Not nervous, are you?” – to which I roll my eyes and cluck at Wish. Grinning, Jasper swings up onto Zoe and joins me. The horses, seeming to sense that they’re on their way home to dinner and their stalls, perk up their ears and pick up their steps. They know the way home, and for Jasper and me, the ride is relaxing and easy.

As we ride, Jasper checks his watch. “Jesus, no wonder I’m starving. It’s seven o’clock!” I can’t believe how the time has passed today. Fortunately, now that it’s later, the sun isn’t nearly as hot; and there’s a very pleasant breeze.

Back at the barn, Jasper gets rid of Wish’s saddle and bridle and slips a halter on him, putting him crossties. He shows me how to brush him, and as I do, he untacks Zoe and brushes her down as well. When the horses are in their stalls, fed and “tucked in” for the night, we stroll hand-in-hand to the house to let Andrea know we’re back and that the horses are looked after. She’s inside the large, open-concept home, watching a movie with a girlfriend. They both look up as we knock on the kitchen door, and Andrea motions us in.

“I was starting to wonder if you two were coming back,” she says as she pauses the movie and gets up to join us in the kitchen. “The property just isn’t that big.”

“Oh,” Jasper replies, “we stopped and had a swim in the pond.”

“Uh…okay,” she replies with a smirk. “How did you do, Edward? Didn’t get thrown? ”

“No,” I glare. “I was fine. I even enjoyed it.”

“He did really well,” Jasper adds, sliding his arm around my waist and smiling at me proudly. “He actually settled into it pretty quickly, and Wish was great, of course.” He gives me a kiss on the cheek. “I may even get him back in the saddle again.”

“You can count on it.” I wink at him slyly when Andrea turns to the sink to fill her water glass. I know we’re not talking about horseback riding anymore.

“Well, that’s a miracle,” replies Andrea, still completely unaware of the innuendo in our words. “I didn’t think he’d get up at all, let alone want to go again.”

“I’ll always get up,” I answer her, as Jasper tries to stifle his laughter. She turns to look at us curiously. “What I mean is, I’ll try anything once.”

“Well,” Jasper switches topics, a bit pointedly, “we’d best be headed back to town. We’re starving.” He puts out his hand to Andrea. “It was nice to meet you, Andrea.”

“Same here,” she shakes his hand, then mine. “Have a safe drive back.” We turn to leave and just as I’m thinking she must be the most naïve twenty-year-old on the planet, she says, “Jesus, I hope watching you two going at it didn’t traumatize the horses.”

I gape, chagrined; Jasper just grabs my hand and pulls me out of there. From behind us we hear peals of laughter from Andrea and her friend, and I swear to myself that as long as Andrea works here, I will never ride here again. I would be mortified to have to look her in the eye. Beside me, Jasper chuckles and hooks his arm around my waist. “Let them laugh,” he says. “Fuck, every second you and I spent back there was worth having to put up with her snark.”

There’s no way to argue with that. “Yeah,” I concede. We get into Anneliese’s SUV, buckling up before Jasper turns us in the direction of Austin. As we drive the country roads, things in the car are quiet. I rest my head, looking out the window at the expanse of fields and trees, and the large, gorgeous homes in the area.

Once we’re back on the highway, I turn to Jasper. “I’m sorry, Kas.”

“For what, beautiful?” he asks, taking my hand.

“For fighting you so hard on coming out here. You said I’d enjoy it if I gave it a chance, and I should have trusted you.” I squeeze his hand. “I’m glad you insisted.”

“I’m glad too,” he says, lifting my hand to his lips to kiss the back of it and taking his eyes off the road for a second to give me a quick smile. “It was amazing. You were amazing. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I reply. I lie my head back against the headrest again, studying his profile. For the moment, the road we are travelling has curved to the north, and his beautiful lips are silhouetted in the sun as it sinks lower on the horizon.

“Where do you want to stop for dinner?” he asks.

“I don’t have a preference,” I reply lazily. “Anywhere is fine.” He nods. “You know,” I muse aloud after a few minutes, “the only other time we’ve done anything like that outside was when we were here for Thanksgiving.

“Oh, yeah,” he grins, remembering when we snuck out to the back yard of his parents’ house after dark, the night of Thanksgiving dinner. “Of course, that was just trading blow jobs. Today was…”

“Primal,” I supply, and he nods.

“Definitely. Making love outside, surrounded by nature…it was so powerful.” He kisses my hand again. “I have a confession to make, actually. I’ve wanted to do that, here, since I used to come here as a teenager. I always thought it would be so great to make love outside.”

“That’s why you wanted to get me out here?” I raise my eyebrows at him., and he nods sheepishly. “Jesus, if that was the case, why didn’t you just say so?”

He shrugs. “Well, I also wanted you to ride. I knew you’d look sexy up there.”

“Ah.” I decide to have a little fun with this. “All part of the fantasy, then, huh? And what about throwing me up against a tree and drilling me?”

He grins, saying nothing, which tells me everything. “Jesus,” I tell him, “you are much more devious than I gave you credit for. I mean, obviously, you planned, since you had the condoms and lube…”

“Yes, but that was just being prepared,” he speaks up, “which I’ve learned, with you, is important to do. I never know where or when you and I will be carried away.”

“Fair enough,” I concede. “Well, I’ll say this – I would really like to do that more – making love outside, I mean. It seems almost impossible when you live in the city.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs, and then his face takes on a devious smile. “How do you feel about hiking in the Olympic Mountains...?”

-o-

So this story had a lot of technical information about riding, and I realize that’s not for everyone. Amymorgan’s generous contribution to the auction bought all the horse & riding knowledge I have (plus some I borrowed from Google and from my good friend Val – Touchstone67) to send our boys on a trail ride and roll in the grass...and the water…and the tree. :) Amymorgan, thank you again for your donation – I hope you loved the story!

The ranch is an actual small ranch in McDade that I found in real estate listings. It’s only 51 acres, which I figure must be rather small, as ranches go.


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