Easy Rider…
Charmaine was flat on her back on the circular bed, which was still vibrating. She stared up at herself in the ceiling mirror and had to admit, I look hot!
Really, she was the Penthouse version of “Woman Satisfied.” Every man’s fantasy. Heck, it was every woman’s fantasy, too, to be wiped out this way by man.
Raoul slept beside her, wiped out as well. She gave herself a mental slap on the back for achieving that feat.
And, yes, she was thinking of him as Raoul, not Rusty, again.
He said he loved me. Forever? Or is this just a fling? Will he listen to my ideas for the ranch now? Or go on as usual? Stop it, Charmaine. You’ve been given a gift. Stop asking for more. Take it one day at a time.
When she glanced up at the mirror again, she did a double take because Raoul was staring upward, too. And it wasn’t just his eyes that were upward.
She smiled at the mirror.
He smiled, too.
“I’d like to have a picture of us like this.”
“Me too. Actually, someone’s probably taking our picture from a peephole somewhere.”
She shrieked and tried to duck under the sheet at the bottom of the bed, but he laughed and pulled her back. “I was just kidding.”
He settled her so that she lay half-on, half-off his body. Leaning down, he pressed a quick kiss on her lips. “Thank you, chère.”
“For what?”
“For the most spectacular sex of my life. For giving me your virginity… again.”
She slapped him playfully on the chest for his teasing. “It was spectacular, wasn’t it?”
“Mais oui, sugar.”
“Say it again.”
He knew without asking. “I love you.”
Tears filled her eyes and she told him, “You know, you could get almost anything from me with those three words.”
“Something to keep in mind.” His eyes twinkled mischievously.
She slapped him playfully again.
“You say it,” he demanded then.
She knew it wasn’t those three little words he was looking for, at least at this moment. She twirled his chest hairs with a forefinger, then gave him what he wanted in a sex-laden croon: “Raaa-oooul.”
He smiled, and his already half-erect penis stood up, ready to boogie.
“Like that, do you?”
“Are you speaking to me? Or Longfellow?”
“Both.” She laughed. “You still use that ridiculous name for it?”
“It likes that name.”
“So, cowboy… ?” she drawled out.
His eyes went wide with suspicion at her tone.
“Remember when I suggested a dude ranch to you and you told me I know diddly-squat about a ranch?” She swung her leg over his hips and straddled him.
She could tell that his attention was divided between her question and her position atop his family jewels. “Oh, no! You’re not going to pick a fight with me now, are you?”
“Nope. I just wanted you to know that this cowgirl knows more about ranching than you think I do.”
“Oh?” He was clearly interested now, his eyes going from her breasts to the part of her body pressing him down.
“For example, I know how to ride,” she boasted, lifting herself up, then onto him.
His eyes appeared as if they were rolling back in his head for a second, which she took as a good sign. In truth, the way Raoul filled her, stretching her inner folds… well, the whites of her eyes might very well be showing, too.
He put his hands on her waist and adjusted her better, then said, “Prove it.”
“Them’s fightin’ words for a Cajun gal.”
“Prove it.”
And she did. Giddiup. And then some.
Feathering her nest…
Who knew there were that many ways of making love? Well, he’d known but never experienced the whole shebang all in one night.
It all started when he was awakened from a sound sleep. Okay, he had been knocked unconscious by two drain-your-brain-of-blood orgasms, thanks to Charmaine, bless her heart. He’d been dead to the world, probably snoring, when he’d sensed his dick getting wet… and hot. He recalled seeing an episode of ER one time where some cuckoo bird had decided to dip his wick in hot oil to see how it felt. Ouch! But this was different. Not blistering hot. More like warm… blistering only in the sexual sense.