Flyover Country Ch. 02

"Stephie?" she asked, "Hi ... listen, honey, I'm not coming back tonight, okay? ... Yeah, I'm gonna stay out here at the ranch ... I don't know, maybe tomorrow ... or the next day ... yeah, everything is good ... I'll give you a call tomorrow ... bye!"

She turned back to me. "Cowboy ... Matt...," she said earnestly, "my tonsils are floating ... could we please go inside and find that nice bathroom you showed me earlier?"

I was beginning to love that smile of hers.

"Absolutely!" I replied, jerking on the door handle. "Last one inside ... uh ... has to wait!" I yelled.

She squealed something unintelligible as she tried to get her door open. We raced up the four broad steps to the porch and I pushed the door open as quickly as I could. She was laughing and trying to grab my arm, or anything else she could hold onto to slow me down, but I was bigger and had a full head of steam.

I won the race to the downstairs bath, but I only slapped a palm against the door and continued on down the hall to run upstairs to the big bathroom there. I was raised with the axiom "Ladies before Gentlemen" and I truly lived that way—or Mom would give me hell.

I heard the downstairs bathroom door slam, and then there was silence, or at least I couldn't hear anything more. I was busy getting my jeans unzipped. I hadn't realized it, but my tonsils were just about floating too, and they were sinking fast.

* * *

I CAN cook on a stove, but I much prefer grilling outside. Mercedes loved green foods, so we split the chores. While I fired up the charcoal and seared the steaks, Mercedes raided the fridge for assorted veggies and concocted a beautiful little salad, then put together a nice vinaigrette dressing from scratch.

She brought the salad out to the deck and set plates and silverware down while I tended to the steaks. Every once in a while, we'd bump hips as we moved around and our hands warded each other off when we were about to collide. A few times we patted each other's shoulder or arm just to touch while we talked about nothing important.

It'd been a very long time since I'd had anyone to share good moments like this; I found myself enjoying it immensely, and I thought she did too. Mercedes put our plates side-by-side, rather than across the table from one another, and that's the way we ate dinner. I liked that a lot.

We talked quietly in the gathering dusk, not about anything important, just two people getting to know each other. For having known each other for only a few hours, we were awfully comfortable with each other, exchanging ideas and opinions easily, and occasionally reaching out to touch.

After we cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher, we adjourned to two patio loungers on the deck. I'd already pulled them closer until they were only a few inches apart and she didn't object. We watched the night sky for a long time, guessing at names for those constellations we couldn't actually identify and wondering if that silvery speck, apparently moving fast across the night sky, was the space station or a UFO. Neither of us cared. After a while, I laid my hand atop hers, caressing the softness of her flesh; she made no move to reclaim her hand.

When it started to get a little chilly, compared to the heat of the day, we gathered ourselves and made our way off the deck and back into the house. At the door, Mercedes stopped abruptly and I bumped into her. She turned, and was suddenly in my arms. We shared a nice, long kiss that started comfortably, then gathered heat.

She pulled back a little, breaking the kiss, but leaving her arms wound around my neck and her body pressed against mine. "I never do this on a first date," she told me quietly, smiling gently.

"That's okay ... I wouldn't know how to ask for it on a first date," I assured her. I actually hadn't even thought of this as a first date.

I didn't exactly know what "this," or the "it" I'd referred to, was either, but it didn't seem to matter. She smiled up at me and searched out my lips for another kiss. This time she let my tongue flick at hers and we dueled for a deliciously long time. My hands stroked up and down her back and her breath quickened.

She broke off the kiss again. "Cowboy ... honey...?" she purred softly.

"Hmmmmm?"

"You know when you gave me the grand tour this afternoon...?"

"Mmmm hmmm," I murmured back, kissing her chin and exploring the hollow of her throat.

"You think you could find your way back to that big ol' bed you showed me upstairs...?"

I didn't bother replying; that was enough of a hint for even a blockhead like me. I busied myself with closing and locking the back door; then we walked hand in hand through the living room, turning off lights as we progressed. I urged Mercedes upstairs ahead of me. Watching a beautiful woman climb stairs, with her well-toned ass flexing and relaxing, her leg muscles tensing and moving around beneath creamy flesh—well, it's just a wonderful thing to behold. "Poetry in motion," like the song said.

While I turned the covers down, Mercedes pulled off her top and skinned her shorts down her slim thighs. Neither of us was inclined to neatness at the moment and our clothes dropped to the floor in whatever direction they flew when we tossed them.

We kissed, and this time it was a deep, lovers' kiss that went on and on. I gently pushed Mercedes down on the bed and knelt on the floor beneath her wide-spread thighs.

I love giving a woman pleasure orally. For one thing, it gives a man total control over his woman; if done correctly, a woman can't even think while it's being done for her. Second, I was taught a woman is kind of like a tub of water, slow to warm up and slow to cool down. Sync up with her body's responses and please her with your mouth and you'll never—never ever—lose a woman. I considered Faye to be the exception that proved the rule...

My Uncle Jake, the man who gave me flying lessons, taught me those things. Let's face it, after you reach a certain proficiency, if you're flying cross country just to gain flying hours, there's not much to do except talk. Uncle Jake invariably talked about his favorite subjects, flying and women, and not necessarily in that order.

To my knowledge, Uncle Jake was never married. But he always had at least one girlfriend by his side and usually several girls vying to be the next one up. They were invariably good-looking girls of all ages and more than a few who I knew for a fact had just graduated high school. There were also the middle aged women, including several matronly women who were exceptionally well preserved. Every now and then, Uncle Jake would prevail upon one of his girls to do him a favor and show his favorite nephew, me, how certain body parts fit together with other body parts, and what to do with them. I was pretty sure Mom and Dad would have killed Uncle Jake had they known what went on sometimes at his house while I was visiting.

I wanted to give Mercedes the benefit of everything I'd learned since my uncle began coaching me. Bending low, I breathed softly on her pussy lips for a moment, then began kissing all around them and the inside of her upper thighs.

"Shave?" I asked. Mercedes was as bald and smooth as a petal.

"Laser," she replied succinctly. So she'd had laser treatments to remove her pubic hair. Worked for me.

I could feel her shifting around delicately on the surface of the bed as I lapped from bottom to top; first down the middle of her slit and then each lobe, up one side and down the other. Then I changed direction. Mercedes' breathing caught in her throat before continuing.

My tongue speared between her pussy lips, searching for her clit and touching it softly before withdrawing. I slid my tongue back in, touched her clit with the very tip and let it dance around the little nubbin for a moment before pulling back. I stopped, just breathing on her exposed pussy for a long moment, then pushed my tongue back inside. Then I did it all a few more times.

I added my forefinger, sliding it in to her pussy at the bottom of her slit and slowly plunging it deep, pushing into her vagina before sliding it back out. I gently sucked her clit, stabbing it with the very tip of my tongue, touching it softly, then more urgently.

Mercedes writhed on the surface of the bed, her hands fluttering over my head, sometimes tugging at my hair or the back of my head. She cooed softly when I licked happily around the inside of her pussy lips, then touched her clit again. My forefinger glided deeper now in a rhythm with my tongue's assault on her clit.

A second finger joined the first. I wiggled them around gently, exploring the steamy insides of my Mercedes' pussy. I worked them in a "come here" motion, stroking the front wall of her vagina, then went back to gliding them deeper and then back out in a smooth, gentle motion. For the first time I flicked my tongue at her clit, slapping it quickly from side to side, then sucking at it. I captured the little nubbin between my lips and sucked ever stronger on it.

Abruptly, Mercedes bucked her hips up at my head and glued her pussy lips to my mouth, squirming and wriggling all over my face for the maximum amount of contact she could get.

"Annnnggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she whimpered almost piteously, clamping her fingers on the back of my head and holding me tight. I could feel her pussy contracting rhythmically—spasming and clinching as her orgasm flooded through her. And then I did it again, starting gently and slowly. This time I paused every now and then so Mercedes could guide me to touch a favorite, especially pleasurable place. When she orgasmed a second time, I spent a few minutes gently kissing her bald pussy and stroking from her upper thighs to her abdomen. Then I started over again.

After her third orgasm, or perhaps it was her fourth, I gradually eased off, my tongue gently swathing her pussy lips at first, tailing off into soft kisses on her pussy lips and all around the sensitized flesh and slowing down as I went. I sat up, using my hand to squeegee her juices off my face. I chuckled.

"Wha...?" she whimpered softly.

"Just happy," I replied, "...I'm having the best time..." I stood, walked around to the side of the bed and lay down with my head on the pillow. She squirmed up the length of the bed until she could stretch her full length against me. She kissed me on my saturated lips.

"Mmmmmm," she cooed, "I taste good, huh?"

"Absolutely," I replied, "...and I want more." I kissed her again, then kissed the hollow of her throat and her collar bone all the way out to her shoulder. I paid attention to her right breast, kissing, stroking, and caressing all around the areola and finally capturing the spiking nipple to suck and nip at it, then transferred to her left.

I kissed and caressed down the length of her body until I reached her pudendum, where I started licking, sucking, and prodding all over again. It didn't take very long until she was straining against her own body, writhing and moaning her way to another climax.

While she was still trying to catch her breath, I rose, snatched one of the pillows and muscled it under the small of her back. I bent over, captured one nipple in my mouth, and then the other. Leaning back on my knees between her wide-open thighs, I guided my cock slowly into her steamy cunt. There was no resistance; the woman was so wet she was dribbling pussy juice all over the sheets.

She locked her ankles behind my back and used her legs to pull me down inside her. "I'm on the pill!" she whispered in my ear. "If you try to pull out, I'm gonna—hungh—hurt you bad, hear?"

I smiled and dipped my head down to kiss her soft, inviting lips. I started stroking, long and deep into her, keeping my weight on my hands and knees, giving her enough room to squirm and hump up to me. In a few moments, strangers though we were, we found a comfortable rhythm, moving with each other and steadily climbing toward a mutual orgasm.

Mercedes panted in time with my plunges. "Angh ... angh ... yes ... yesssss ... angh ... angh ... oh..."

Then suddenly, there was no panting coming from her at all. Mercedes slammed her sex up against mine and clamped her legs tight around my body to hold me in place. She quivered gently for a long moment while I pumped spurt after spurt inside her rippling vagina. We kept ourselves there, teetering at the peak for a long, long moment, before gradually coming down. I kissed her mouth, her ear lobes, and the side of her neck, before slowly collapsing to her side.

We rested, comfortable with our intimacy, pleased with the heights we'd just climbed. Lying beside her and facing her, I stroked her body from her shoulders down her arms and as far down her legs as I could reach. She caught her breath several times, her body shuddered delicately a couple of times as we cuddled.

She finally put her left hand on my chest, pushed me back a scant millimeter or two and captured my hands in hers. She wriggled up toward the head of the bed, until she could rest her head on my shoulder. She patted my chest affectionately.

"If you tell this to anybody, I'll call you three kinds of a liar," she murmured softly, "...but you have to stop doing things to me, 'cause I'm 'most exhausted and I can't handle it anymore," she whispered. She wiggled her hips, trying to get her head in a more comfortable position. She gasped, trembled for a minute, then gradually relaxed again with a soft whimper.

"I did NOT do that," I said virtuously.

She giggled—a happy school-girlish sound. "I think my pussy lips rubbed against each other and made me come again," she told me, thoroughly delighted with herself.

We lay there together, relaxing and talking quietly, and sharing a kiss every now and then.

"So why didn't you do that to her ... your ex-wife ... what you did to me?" Mercedes asked after a while.

"Excuse me?" I protested. "I did all that, and more, whenever I was allowed to ... couple, three times a week and more on the weekend when I could get her to lie still for it!" I retorted. She was quiet for a moment.

"Then you must be some kinda dummy!" she declared. "...Getting involved with a woman too stupid to know what she has!" Mercedes explained with a little laugh.

"Hah!" I shot back. "I'll have you know I'm really, really getting interested in you, woman! So there...!"

She mulled that over. "Well ... you do have your moments, Cowboy," she whispered to me, "...finally gettin' it straight!" she said comfortably.

I resorted to tickling her sides and that led to a little wrestling match, and that led to her scrambling atop me and inserting my dick inside her. She rode me for a long while and we ended with her hammering herself down on my cock harder and faster until she screamed her way through a long, jolting climax that thoroughly exhausted both of us.

CHAPTER FIVE

When I awoke the next morning, Mercedes' fragrant, raven-hued hair was spread all over my chest, her head was pillowed on my left shoulder and her legs were intertwined with mine. Earlier, just before dawn, she'd awakened me by throwing her left leg over my body, inserting a hard-on I was too sleepy to know I had inside her and riding cowgirl on me for a long, sweet time until we both came.

Evidently, she'd only partly dismounted. Her satiny flesh felt wonderful against mine. I'd dated a few women since my divorce, but Mercedes was the first with whom I'd felt any connection.

She began stirring and I kissed her forehead softly.

"Mmmmmm," she purred. She raised her head and offered her lips for a proper kiss.

"Ouch...!" she complained.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm lying on my hair," she explained. "I captured myself and can't get up!" she giggled.

We untangled ourselves and searched out the locks of her hair that had made their way under her or my body overnight. She sat up in bed and gathered her hair behind her. Her breasts jiggled enticingly.

"Down, boy," she murmured when she saw me watching appreciatively. But she was smiling happily. "I...," she said firmly, "need a shower in the worst way, Cowboy," she remarked.

"Uhhhhh ... well, just by chance," I offered, "...so do I and..."

She jumped off the bed and danced around the bed to me. She held out her hand companionably and we hurried into the big bathroom that had been Mom and Dad's. She wouldn't let my hands do any exploring in the steamy shower stall, saying if we got started, it would be suppertime before we got out and she was too hungry for that.

I made my bones with her later by doing a workmanlike job shampooing her long, beautiful hair. Afterward, I brushed it out, without pulling too terribly hard. She was purring by the time I finished with her.

* * *

We had a good country breakfast of bacon and scrambled eggs, accompanied by toast and jam. I learned she was a proud card-carrying member of the Carnivore's Association of North America, of which I'd never heard. I believed she was a true carnivore, since she'd made quick work of her steak last night and had just downed every extra slice of bacon on the table. She admitted there was no such group; I said we should start one. She sat on my lap and kissed me. I was in heaven. Breakfast is a really lovely way to start the day.

In one of my T-shirts and nothing else, Mercedes found her phone and called her friend Stephanie to check in and assure her I hadn't murdered and dismembered Mercedes overnight, or something like that. They talked for a while. I paid almost no attention and, after pulling on a pair of jeans and my boots, I spent some time taking the trash out behind the barn to the fire pit for burning and mucking out the portion of the big barn dedicated to the horse stable.

I walked back in the house and grabbed a can of soda from the refrigerator. Mercedes had finished her call and her phone was on my charging station on the sideboard, along with mine. And then it hit me.

"GOT IT!" I exclaimed. I'd just figured out what had been bugging me about blue jeans, Mercedes, and horses.

Mercedes looked at me doubtfully.

"Mom's stuff ... she left all of it—!" I made a chopping motion with my right hand. "Let me back up. Mom and Dad didn't want this ranch anymore; they deeded it over to me to sell to whoever. They're off in a big-ass RV wandering around the country and they said anything in the house I wanted I could have, but anything I didn't want, I was to burn, okay?"

Mercedes gave a short nod to my "Cliffs Notes" version of events.

"And some of my Mom's stuff ... they're all clean and stuff ... are here—like a couple pair of blue jeans!" I looked her over appraisingly. "I bet a pair of her jeans would fit you ... ahhh ... well enough, anyway. You could go riding in them ... if you still want to?"

She nodded brightly. We scampered upstairs. I showed Mercedes where Mom's old closet was and she began to go through the contents to see if she could find a pair of slacks or jeans she could wear. I busied myself opening my laptop and starting the video chat app. Just to be polite, I was going to ask Mom if we could "borrow" the jeans ... and besides, I owed them a call.

"Hi, Sweetie," Mom greeted me when the connection was made. "Been thinking of you; how're things going?"

"Just fine, Mom ... sold Chip and Tattler last week..." (They were two of our horses.) "...and I think I have a buyer for the buffalo ... won't know 'til sometime in the next three or four days whether it's a deal or not. Other than that, most of the farm machinery is sold, and ... things are going pretty well, I think. How're ya'll doing?"

I heard some muffled giggling from the direction of Mom's closet and a couple of soft thuds. I looked around to see Mercedes hauling a fairly large box out of the closet. I went back to listening to Mom as she explained about the Meteor Crater National Landmark, and wasn't Winslow Arizona in some song way back when?