Disclaimer: This story is a Chris Jackson original and is not to shared, posted, downloaded or distributed without my permission or credit given to me. This content is for mature audiences only. All characters are fictional and over the age of 18. Book cover created with Visme Templates. No AI was used in the writing of this story. This story will be free for seven days before you need to pay me.

Grocery shopping. It feels weird now. I haven’t shopped at Ben’s Bargain Mart in seven years. The outside of the building hasn’t changed. I doubt they’ve painted the lines in the parking lot since I’ve been gone.

But the inside is different. The floor is made of fake wood. The lights are sharp white LED, not the yellow fluorescent tubes anymore. All the coolers are different. Digital price tags, each with a QR code next to it. Prices are higher.

Some things are the same. The industrial cleaners haven’t changed. I still know the smell. The produce manager is still Rhonda; gray hair, tired eyes. Hair thinning in the front now. Her eyes light with recognition.

“Oh my God! Keith? You’re home?”

She still remembers my name. She and my dad go way back. Never dated. But they worked together in college. She’s still here and… my dad’s… I’m not sure what he’s doing right now.

It’s weird how much things change, and some things don’t at all.

“Afternoon, Rhonda. Good to see you again.” I step away from my shopping cart with an annoying spinney front left wheel and offer her a handshake.

God, her steel-gray eyes look fucking tired. I don’t see this place paying her enough to retire, and she still hasn’t gotten out for some place better.

“You were in the Navy, right? Your hair looks good!” She says, trying to find something to say. She seems to regret saying anything. I don’t blame her.

I like Rhonda, but we have absolutely nothing in common and this got awkward fast. “Any good sales to know about?”

Did I really fucking ask that?

“The strawberries are beautiful right now, but they’ll be heading towards sad in three days or so. If you like strawberries, get them today and use them soon.”

A tired, albeit genuine, smile touches her lips, laugh-lines, and gentle sags at the edges. I didn’t expect a throw-away question to get her excited.

“I like berries with yogurt and granola more than the next man, I’d bet. So, thanks.” I nod and her smile grows as I reclaim my still-empty cart.

I turn towards produce, heading for strawberries. They’re not on my list. If I don’t grab them now, I will never remember to.

It’s in the produce that I’m stopped in my tracks. I’ve seen beautiful girls before. Served with some stunners. But this isn’t just a girl. I’m staring down the bridge of my nose at Dove Chambers.

Sexy, lithe, nearly waif. Long, dark hair. Porcelain skin adorned with artistic little tats all over. Eyes big, jade-green, and cat-like. Cheekbones that could cut glass.

She’s looking at tomatoes, trying to pick the perfect ones. Unaware I’m trying to look away but physically unable to. I don’t get starstruck, but what the fuck is she doing here? How did she find her way to North Bridge?

Fuck. She looks right at me, and I turn my head to act as if I was just cracking my thick-ass neck while perusing preserves.

I don’t dare look back at her. She’s just shopping. Minding her own business. Probably just trying to eat right while passing through on time off between projects.

Keeping my back to where I had just been trying not to creep on her, I spend a bullshit amount of time ‘weighing options.’ I even try to sell the act by picking up a jar or two and reading the back.

How the fuck do so many of these claim to be all-natural while using this much sugar? It doesn’t even taste like berries at that point.

“Hey.” I know that voice. That sexy, cock-hardening, smoky voice. “How’s it going, soldier?”

She could have been talking to anyone with that ‘hey.’ But the direction of her voice, saying ‘soldier.’ She’s talking to me.

“Oh. Hey,” I say cooly, turning to my left to face her. She had to completely change course just to talk to me. If I could handle a dress-down from my captain, I could handle Dove Chambers.

My captain wasn’t super-hot. But he was a hell of a lot scarier than Dove is.

“How’s it going?” The words come out with a knowing lilt. I’m busted.

“Good. Just shopping.” I keep it casual. “How are you?” I give her my attention but try not to ogle like a Neanderthal.

“Good,” she croons back. “I couldn’t help but overhear. It’s a small store. You’re freshly back in town?” She twirls her long, dark hair around a finger like I’m the only interesting thing in this town. She might be right.

“Yeah. I was out of town for a while.” I nod, but don’t overshare.

“I’m on vacation. Wanted to visit somewhere outdoorsy and not another city for a bit. I’m renting a cabin up at the tip of the Point.”

I nod. “Beautiful time of year for it. It’s fifteen degrees cooler up there than it is down here.” I rub my neck. Why is she still talking to me?

A curious smile crosses her full, dark-painted lips. “Do you know who I am, big guy?”

“Yeah.” I look around to see if anyone is watching our interaction. No one is. “I know who you are, Dove. But if you’re hiding here on vacation, you don’t want anyone to know who you are.”

Her smile widens and her eyes pull a little tighter. “Big, sexy, and smart. I’m lucking out.”

“Lucking out with what, exactly?” I cross my arms over my chest. The action pulls the sleeves of my flannel shirt tighter. She lets out a low, pleased purr. My anxiety rises, but so does my cock.

“I need a guide. I’d like to experience the outdoors during the day and the nightlife when the sun goes down. I don’t want to get lost or end up stabbed or drugged in someone’s trunk.”

I blink and watch her for a second. The smile is gone from her face as she waits for my answer. She’s serious.

“I’ll pay you.”

I shake my head. “No, you won’t. I’ll do it for free, though. I’m still looking for something to occupy my time as I... get used to things again. This will do that, I think.”

“You’re out of work but you won’t let me pay you for guide services?” She pops her hip, trying to call my nonexistent bluff.

It’s a hip that would look better with my hand on it, dwarfing her and pulling her in the way her eyes look like she’s inviting me to.

But I won’t. I’d be the biggest fool to reach out and take what I want, what I assume she wants, because of one look.

Wouldn’t I be?

“I was in the service for seven years. No one to send money to. I just banked my salary. I can afford to fuck around for a few days.”

Her dark, tweezed eyebrows pop, and I realize how I ended that.

“That’s… that’s not what I meant. I just-”

Dove holds up her hand and laughs, saving me from eating my tongue. “I know what you mean, dude. I just appreciate the candor.” She smiles. Sincere and pretty. “So, big shoots, what’s your name?” Dove holds out her little hand.

“Keith Archer.” I take her hand in mine and grip it gently. She’s smaller to the point I’m afraid I could hurt her delicate fingers. She surprises me, though, with the strength of her own shake.

“Well, Mr. Archer,” she purrs again and narrows her eyes, almost competitively. “Let’s break and get our shopping done, and then we’ll meet up in an hour for coffee?”

“Deal,” I say after swallowing the lump in my throat. ‘Mr. Archer’ has never sounded so good. “I know a place I think you’ll like.”

She looks at me coyly. “A man that takes charge when granted permission? I like you already.”

Fuck.

As agreed upon, there she is. Looking fucking radiant in ripped up jeans and a t-shirt sloping off one shoulder. Her bra strap is visible, but she doesn’t give a damn. She’s at a table for two, right by the window. Anyone walking by will be able to see us.

Anyone walking by will see the Navy vet having coffee. With a millionaire actress who’s between seasons of a hit Netflix show.

I didn’t win a contest. I didn’t win some kind of lottery. No. I ran into her at a fucking grocery store.

And she decided I was the guy built to show her around the woods I grew up in, and around the sad nightlife this little city has to offer.

I realize I’m staring at her again. But Dove doesn’t shy away. She doesn’t fluster or look anywhere else. No playing like I’m not looking at her. She stares right back. Watching me like I’m watching her.

I shake my head and march to the table like she’s the only other person in this damned coffee shop.

“You were staring at me.” Her words aren’t a question. The accusation is bold and unflinching. My answer will be, too.

“Yeah. I was. It’s hard not to.” I don’t shy away, just like she hadn’t. It seems we’re both in this car together. And there’s no road. Just a cliff coming up fast, and we’re both ready to go over it.

“I’m going to get a coffee now that I’m here. When I get back, I want to hear about what you want to do today.” I tap my knuckles on the table once. I’m not sure why. Something about the small action just feels… committal. Like I put my signature down to be her battle buddy.

When I have a medium black coffee with two creamers in my hand, I turn back to Dove. I get no further than turning around, because she’s staring at me the way I had at her when I showed up.

My feet move but my brain feels stuck. I think we’ve spent more time staring at each other than talking. I don’t know what to do with that. I didn’t expect Dove Chambers to be so damn intense.

“Decide what you want to do?” I need to keep the ball rolling. We can’t just stop every time one looks at the other.

Dove looks at me quizzically, an entertained yet confused smile. “You know I’m new here, right? Like, you get that I don’t know where anything is? I have a little pamphlet that recommends tourist traps for two-hundred miles.”

I blink, thinking about what it must be like to be a small woman in this fucking maze of trees, water, and convenient stores all by herself.

“Okay. I get it. You’re staying up at the Cedar Hill Cabins on the Point, right?”

Dove nods, her eyes growing in anticipation.

“There’s an old-growth forest about five miles Northwest. You said you wanted to do some hiking?” I take a sip of my coffee, watching over the lid and looking for any sign she’s not interested.

Her smile grows wily and she chuckles. “Five miles Northwest? Are you Lewis, or Clarke?”

I roll my eyes. “Do you want to see bigass trees or not?”

Dove looks out the window, her head tilting up. “Blue sky. Cute, fluffy white clouds. Looks like a great day for a hike.” She looks across the street and sees a number of younger people, not pointing but clearly looking this way. “This town doesn’t really have a paparazzi, does it?”

I chuckle, my eyes training on the same group of college kids. “We have a local news channel, a newspaper, and a college newspaper that does better journalism than the newspaper.”

“Do those kids look like the college news team?” Dove rises from her seat.

“Either that, or they’re from some kind of campus happenings group chat or some shit. Who knows with Discord, Snapchat and all that? Need to get out of here?”

“I think so.” Dove nods, and she grabs my hand, tugging me towards the back.

She pushes through an employees only door, and we’re out back by the dumpster in the blink of an eye.

“Is this really necessary?” I ask, letting her pull me along behind her.

“No. But I’ve always wanted to run from paparazzi with a hot guy, and this might be the best chance I get.” She giggles and winks at me over her shoulder.

I have to give Dove credit. The girl kept up. She didn’t complain about the heat, the humidity, the bugs. She’s a trooper.

The sun’s going down, but we still have to get back to my Jeep. Her stomach grumbles, and I know it’s the perfect time for us to head back.

By the time we reach the car, it’s fully dusk. Still being on the trail would have been a hazard due to rocks, uneven terrain, and roots. I’d feel like an evil man if she twisted an ankle or worse.

“Fuck. It gets dark up here fast.” Dove rubs her bare arms. Her fitted t-shirt doesn’t offer her much warmth.

I unlock the Jeep and open the back door, pulling out a military thermal turtleneck. “This will fit you like a Snuggie, but you’ll be warm.”

Dove’s face erupts with a smile. Like she’s seeing her first Christmas tree. She makes grabby hands and reaches out for it.

I hand it over with a smile and a shake of my head. She pulls it over her head and looks comically small. When her face pops through the neck, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone look happier.

“It’s so warm!” Dove chirps, flipping the sleeves that swallow her arms and hands around. “And it smells good.” Her voice drops an octave, and her eyes look so much fucking darker in the low light. She likes my scent, my detergent. I’ve worn it recently, so I know it smells like me.

We need to move. Before I pick her up, pin her against my Jeep, and fuck her cute brains out. Right here in the woods. Little Red can ride me on the hood of my fucking Jeep.

“Have you looked into anywhere you want to eat around here, or were you going to cook all your meals from your cabin?” I dig into my pocket to find my keys—and to adjust my cock. I need to keep this evening moving for both of our sake.

“You can eat me if you’re hungry.”

I stop at the front of the Jeep and turn my head. “What?”

“What?” She parrots back like she didn’t say anything. “I asked if you wanted to eat at the Lighthouse? It’s a German-American place, right?”

I know that’s not what she said, but her recovery is so smooth that I let it slide. “I didn’t go there often when I was younger because it’s pricey, but I could jump on that now.”

Dove smiles and claps her hands, the sound muffled since she hasn’t tried to roll up the sleeves. “Awesome! I’ll even let you pretend you’re buying!” She teases me, sticking out her tongue.

I have a nest egg, but I don’t have millions of dollars. I’ll let her buy dinner as payment for my guide services.

North Bridge and the surrounding wildlife havens around it aren’t in full tourist season yet. I’m not surprised that the Lighthouse is sparsely sat today. Being past peak dinner hours helps, too.

Given that there’s only four other tables, a nice looking man in his early thirties greets us with a smile and leads us to a table in the back left corner immediately.

The table is up a small riser, and we have a slight elevation over the rest of the floor. It’s almost like a little balcony with three other tables, all empty at this hour.

“I think the host recognizes me,” Dove says as I pull out her seat. It’s not arrogant. She’s not boisterous about it. Just an observation from someone who’s used to being looked at.

“Think it’s why we got this spot?” I take my own seat across the little, intimate table from her.

“Might be.” She shrugs. “I like to think we got it because we’re a pair of cuties.”

I smile politely and wait for the waiter to pass from bringing us water. “You flirt pretty openly. You’re not shy around me.”

Dove tilts her head as she lifts her crystal water goblet. “Should I be? Are you uncomfortable?”

I chuff, a brief exhale out of my nose that isn’t quite a scoff. “Not uncomfortable. You’re fine. Just making sure I stay in my lane. I don’t want to make assumptions and end up with a cracked jaw and a lawyer at my door.”

Dove snorts, unlady-like but so fucking cute. “I like that, Keith. Mr. Archer.” She purrs, and then a flash of recognition ignites in those green eyes. Does she see how much I like that?

She shuffles her feet under the table as she sips her water again. “You don’t know where the lines are right now, do you, Mr. Archer?”

I clear my throat. “If you’re asking that, the answer is probably no.”

She smiles, pleasantly surprised at the answer. “The line is about here.”

I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean until I feel a soft press, a light pressure on my inner thigh.

I look down and I see a small, dainty foot in my lap. Rose-red painted toenails. Pail, perfect skin. A coiling snake tattoo up the arch of her foot to her ankle.

“I think I understand where the lines are now,” I say, voice deeper unintentionally as I reach my hands under the table. I take her foot and start rubbing it.

She has to be sore from the many-mile hike. And it’s an excuse. An excuse to touch her. To feel her skin. To worship her. Even with this little action.

Dove sighs and leans back in her seat, eyes watching me. “You have nice hands. Will I be able to feel them on more of my body later?”

That question has my cock threatening to make itself uncomfortable. “Do you want my hands on more of you?” My voice stays low, even as one of the couples gets up and leaves. My thumbs knead deep into her sole, and her lips part slightly.

“Yes,” Dove whispers back huskily. “If just your hands on my feet feel this good, I want to know what else you can make me feel.” Her other foot comes up and rests on my crotch this time.

“Dove, you’re about to get me hard in a restaurant,” I warn, my voice gravely because the words don’t want to come out at all.

“Good.” Dove doesn’t shy away from my blunt approach. “I want to feel it. Get hard for me, Mr. Archer. Let me feel your cock swell under my foot.”

I grumble low in my chest, my dick obeying her whether I want it to or not.

Our waiter comes back, and Dove and I place our orders. I’m glad Dove looked over the menu on the drive over, because I can’t be bothered now to look at anything but her.

The minute the waiter’s gone, her foot is back in my lap, her toes running up and down my fly. I’m getting harder, thicker with blood. The meat between my legs starts to feel more like the snake on her foot.

Dove smiles as she feels the change, the inflation. “Fuck. I’ve never gotten a man hard with my feet before.”

I’m just holding her foot, any pretense of massage forgotten. I gently set her foot on my thigh, but it quickly joins the other.

Dove Chambers is rubbing my cock with her feet, through my pants. Under a raised table. This is unreal, but I’m not going to tell her to stop.

Our meals come out. The waiter refreshes our wine. She never moves her feet off of me.

“I’m going to keep you hard all dinner,” she says as she cuts into her veal schnitzel. “After dinner, if your down, I want you to fuck me.”

I exhale slowly, out of my nose. Like a bull that knows a rider is about to be on his back. “Yeah. I’m down.”

We talk and chat the whole dinner. Her feet stay on me the whole time.

Discussions about her life in acting, talks about my time in the Navy and what I wanted to do now. What her childhood was like; being an actress but wishing to actually be a kid. What I did off shift. How I dealt with lonely nights in my bunk.

We’ve gone far enough. I throw caution to the wind and admit to her that a lot of my bunk nights involved waiting for everyone else to be asleep and when they were, I’d wonder what her hand, her mouth, her cunt, would feel like on my cock inside of my hand.

Dove clears her throat and puts her cloth napkin down.

Even though her feet are still on me, and at this point quite vigorously keeping my cock hard, maybe I had done something wrong. But then she pushes that fear to the floor and crushes it’s skull under her bare foot.

“It’s time for you to find out, Mr. Archer. Let’s go.” She slips her darling feet back into her little shoes. We thank the crew, her body close in front of mine as we go to hide my erection like we’re horny teens.

I don’t even have my keys in the ignition before she has my pants open and my cock out.

“Just keep us on the road,” she instructs me firmly before licking her palm. Warm, damp skin touches my hot, steeled cock. “Been thinking about what this looked like since the grocery store. When I heard your voice. I wanted to see the face, the man and the cock that it belonged to.”

“Jesus Christ, Dove.” I growl lowly, my knuckles white as I try to crush the steering wheel in concentration.

“You’re leaking for me, babe. I didn’t even have to lick my hand. But now I want to.”

She takes her hand off me, and she holds it palm-up. Orange glow from a passing street light catches the slick of my precum, making it shimmer.

“I didn’t take you for a feet guy,” she giggles sultry, putting her hand back and squeezing me like a sponge.

My breath hitches. “I wasn’t a feet guy.”

Dove smiles victoriously and leans over the center console, not letting go of me. She squeezes again and runs her thumb over my weeping tip. I can smell heady spices and expensive white wine on her breath. “The second we’re out of this Jeep, I want you to fuck me.”

I shudder and swallow at the same time, wondering if my body just took a screenshot in my attempt to not shoot all over Dove’s hand.

“I need to taste this cock before we get there.” I watch from the corner of my eye as Dove undoes her pants and pushes a hand inside. She moans, and I know she went straight to her clit.

“Fuck. I need to pull over.”

“No,” she says hurriedly, still leaning down. She brushes her dark hair over her shoulder. “That’d be too obvious. And we’re almost there. I promise I won’t let you cum.”

“Jesus fuck.” I speed up a little, but not absurdly. Her tongue wraps around the swollen and sensitive head, and my hand not on the wheel grabs her hair.

“Fuck yeah. Pull my hair. I love that shit.”

“Not helping!” I grunted as she wraps her perfect, full lips around the flared tip and starts to jerk that sensitive membrane with expert precision. “Fucking Christ, Dove!”

“Mmm. Mhm.” She moans smugly around me, and I struggle so fucking hard to stay on the road.

“You taste… so good.” She praises me between swipes of her tongue on the spongy head. “A girl can tell when a man is healthy.”

“Fucking Christ, fucking Christ!” I say through gritted teeth as just the tip of her tongue traces a thick, protruding vein. “This is fucking torture.”

“Tell me you don’t love it,” Dove challenges as she reaches into my pants with her free hand and finds my balls. She’s purposely moaning like a slut as she runs her lips up and down the whole length of my cock.

“I haven’t even showered yet.” Doesn’t she mind the sweat, the musk?

“There’s a lot of flavor on this popsicle, Mr. Archer. And I love it.”

“Dove, we still have three miles. You need to stop or there’s going to be nothing left.”

I risk a look down, and I can see her eyes glued to my cock, watching another pearl of precum slip out while her hand works herself over.

“Cum for me. I can get you hard again in two-and-a-half miles.” She sounds confident but not boastful as she takes me between her lips again.

Dove doesn’t rely on depth or parlor tricks. She only takes a quarter, maybe a third, into her mouth. Her tongue dances and swirls, and her light, teasing suction makes me tighten my grip on her hair.

She’s sucking the cum right up and out of me. Into her mouth. Dove hums and sucks, happily mewing around my cock as it spits into her mouth.

When she’s done, she sits up and smiles. A thumb runs over her lips and then slips into her mouth. That same hand goes back to my cock again.

“I loved that. Thank you.” She thanks me, but I’m the one speechless as she leans back, hand still in her pants. She looks ready for a nap as she licks her lips and keeps stroking me.

I find my voice again. “You are the most amazing little thing, you know that?”

Dove smiles and looks at me. She looks blissful, sleepy. I think she had an orgasm on her own fingers and used my cock in her mouth to hide it. “Who? Me?” As if there’s anyone else it could be.

Finally, we’re back in front of her rented cabin. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Dove’s cabin is at the top of the hill because of course that’s the one she picked.

The only lights are the stars, my headlights, and the motion-activated porch light.

I throw my Jeep into park. “You said the moment we get out, I have to fuck you?”

“You’re still hard enough for the job.” Dove quips back, giving my cock an appreciating squeeze.

“But I don’t have to fuck you until we’re both out.”

A sly smile spreads over her glossy lips. “What’s going through that big head of yours, Mr. Archer?”

“Get in the back seat.” It’s the voice I’ve used many times over the years. My Lead Petty Officer voice.

She fucking tremors, and removes her hand from her pants. “Yes, sir,” she breathes. Her eyes get wider than cannon barrels when I snatch her wrist and bring it to my mouth.

I suck her fingers clean of herself and then let go a hell of a lot softer than I had grabbed her. “Now move.”

I watch as she shakily clambers over the seat. When her hands are firmly on the back seat, ass pointed straight out, I grab her hips.

She freezes but doesn’t look back as I slip my fingers between her smooth, heated hips and the soft material of her panties.

Agonizingly slow, I pull her pants and underwear down together. The white light of the moon both illuminating and casting shadows on her round, bare ass is enough to make me suck down excess saliva.

When Dove is fully exposed, cunt lips glistening like a full moon over a stream, pants around her ankles, I dive in like I’m learning to swim.

I’m not polite. Not gentle. There’s no testing the waters. I cannonball. All in. I slurp and lap at her delicious wetness. I groan and let her know how much I enjoy her taste, how much I enjoy her. She’s my first pussy in seven years, and because she’s offered, I’m going to feast.

It takes Dove no time to moan, to cry out, “Oh, Sir! Oh, my fucking God! Sir!” when I suck her fat, juicy lips into my mouth.

My fingers run through the gathered mess of my spit and her slick, and it’s more than enough to wet her tight little rosebud. I press but don’t enter. I do need confirmation for that.

And I get it. Fast. “Yes, sir! Push it in! I’m already pressing back!”

Sure enough, my index finger pops in easily. Her asshole sucks it right in, followed by a desperate, needy moan.

“Oh my God,” she lets out slowly as she lets me in deeper. “Yes! Finger my ass while you fuck me with your tongue please, sir! I need it!”

I can’t see her face, but I wish to God I could. The way she’s pushing back on my finger, into my mouth… the way she’s moaning either my name, or “sir” has me harder than a steel I-beam, but I can’t see her perfect face.

“It’s time to get out of the car.” I scrape my teeth over her perfect, soft ass while slipping my finger out.

“Christ!” she moans, her face pressed into the crème, pleather seat.

I get out first, my pants still open, cock hard and out. Dove has just managed to get into a sitting position when I open the door and grab her by the forearm. I damn near drag her out.

“Fuck my brains out, Sir. I want the other cabins to think you’re murdering me,” she pleads as she stands to her feet.

I drop down in front of her, pulling her pants and underwear down the rest of the way. Her hands are on my head as I wrestle them over her sneakers.

Dove moves her hands to my shoulders as I stand back up. I step between her legs, pressing my full, hard cock against her belly. She needs to know just what’s about to be inside her.

“Yes. Christ. I need this so bad, sir.” Dove spits straight down and rubs her saliva over the still-damp head. She lifts her leg and wraps it around my hip, already on her toes.

Just like with eating her out, I’m not nice about my entry. I push in hard, and my cock slips in deep.

She gasps and wraps her arms around my shoulders.

“Take your fucking shirt off. I need to mark up this beautiful back.”

In seconds, my flannel and black t-shirt are on the ground, in the dust, my cock still in her.

I push her back against the Jeep and follow with my hips, knocking the breath out of the smaller girl.

“Oh my shit!” She yells and her fingernails bite into my back like she wanted. I start to fuck her deep and hard, but taking my time between each one.

“Come on, soldier. Punish this pussy. Make it yours. Been out at sea so long but your dick hasn’t been wet. Come on! Get it!”

I growl and push her back, pinning her flush against it. She has nowhere to run as I pummel her, letting her feel my head against her cervix.

Dove gasps like an angel fighting for more of heaven’s air. Her fingers bite and score long red lines over my back, maybe drawing blood. It doesn’t fucking matter when her cunt is choking my cock like this.

“Is this what you wanted to find on your little vacation? Some big strong man to claim this slutty pussy for a few weeks?”

“Yes!” Dove admits with a broken cry. Her heels dig into my ass cheeks, and she’s completely off the ground. “A big strong man to fucking beat up my guts but make me feel safe. A cock deep inside me is the only way I ever want to cry for a man.”

I somehow manage a chuckle as I wrap my arms around her and take her full weight. She’s no longer supported by the Jeep as I standing fuck her.

She starts to bounce on me and I really fucking wish I would have taken her shirt off before this.

I bury my face in her cleavage anyway as I hold her ass in my hands and move her up and down on my cock. If she hadn’t sucked my balls empty earlier, I would have nut by now. She knew exactly what she was doing.

My earlobe is between her teeth as she moans, her soaked pussy gliding over me so easily. The sounds are slick, loud in the otherwise quiet night.

“Tomorrow,” she pants. “I want a ten-second head start.”

“A head start?” My movements slow as my brain focuses on comprehension. Apparently, I can’t fuck and pat my head at the same time.

“A ten-second head start,” Dove repeats as she stops bouncing, but flutters her kegels around me. “In the woods. Chase me. Catch me and pin me down. Tear my fucking clothes off and then breed me. Don’t let me back up until I’ll dripping with you. I want to get dirty. Really enjoy the woods.” She traces the cartilage of my ear with her tongue, and I feel my cock twitch inside her.

She giggles, and she knows the idea of hunting her makes me feral. “But before we can do that, you need to finish inside me and bathe me.”

I growl and turn around. I pull my cock out of her, and she cries at the loss. Putting her down, I push her back against the Jeep. Her hands slap against it as she huffs.

She doesn’t have to ask what’s happening as I grab her leg and prop her foot on the hood of the Jeep.

“Oh my God! Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Please cum in me like this! I want it like this so- FUCK!”

Dove screams as I hold her leg with one hand, her hip on the other. I possessively hold her hip like I wanted to that first time in the grocery store.

My cock pushes back into her stretched pussy easily, and she leans into the stretch, welcoming me.

The games are done, and I’m here to finish now. Her cunt is gushing, wet sucking sounds all around me as I punish her for putting the images of fucking her like an animal in my head.

“Fuck you’re deep! Your cock is so good! Please cum in me again! Cum with me. I’m so close! Please!” Her cry is shrill as it runs into her orgasm.

I didn’t ruin the surprise by telling her, but I’m right there with her. She gasps and her nails scratch along the hood of the Jeep. Like she’s going to fall off a cliff. She is about to.

I pull her off of the Jeep, but instead of letting her fall, I pull her back into my chest and I hold her as I fuck my load into her. I can’t see or hear it, but I know a beautiful concoction of us is falling into the dirt, sand, and dry grass of the driveway.

Finally, when I’m spent, I pull out and hold her arm with one hand and move her leg back to the ground with the other. Dove’s legs shake, and I hold her up as sperm and sticky liquid run out of her.

I drop down behind her and catch some of the mess on her pussy, only to push it back in. I fuck her with my thick, calloused fingers, our mess as her lube.

“I don’t know how long your vacation is, but I’ll be happy to keep these cute holes filled as much as you need. And don’t worry; no other man will even breathe near you.”

Disclaimer: This is a Chris Jackson original and is not to be shared or reposted without my consent. All characters involved in sexual acts are 18 years old or older. This content is for mature audiences only. Book cover made by me with Visme templates. No AI was used in the writing of this story.

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Disclaimer: This story is a Harbinger96 original and is not to shared, posted, downloaded or distributed without my permission or credit given to me. This content is for mature audiences only. All characters are fictional and over the age of 18. Book cover created with Visme Templates. No AI was used in the writing of this story. AI was used to generate…

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Disclaimer: This story is a Chris Jackson original and is not to shared, posted, downloaded or distributed without my permission or credit given to me. This content is for mature audiences only. All characters are fictional and over the age of 18. Cover created by me using Visme templates. No AI was used in writing this story.

You can find The Wrestler C…

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This story is a Chris Jackson original and is not to shared, posted, downloaded or distributed without my permission or credit given to me. This content is for mature audiences only. All characters are fictional and over the age of 18.

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Disclaimer: This story is a Chris Jackson original and is not to shared, posted, downloaded or distributed without my permission or credit given to me. This content is for mature audiences only. All characters are fictional and over the age of 18. Ebook cover designed by me using Visme templates. No AI was used in the writing of this story.

Content Warni…

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Disclaimer: This is a Chris Jackson original and is not to be reposted or shared, downloaded or distributed without my consent. All characters involved are 18 years or older and are fictional.This content is for mature audiences only.

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Disclaimer: This story is a Chris Jackson original and is not to shared, posted, downloaded or distributed without my permission or credit given to me. This content is for mature audiences only. All characters are fictional and over the age of 18. Cover made by me with Visme templates. No AI was used in the writing of this story.

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What does being a balanced, healthy man mean to me? It means strength, loyalty, compassion, standing up f…

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Disclaimer: Goddamn you, . This is completely your fault. All characters are 18 years old or older. Image generated and supplies by Amber Estwick. , this is your fault too since we’ve been talking about shower ass eating. This is a Chris Jackson short and is not to be downloaded, shared, redistributed or otherwise moved about the webs without my permiss…

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Mrs. Jackson a…

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Disclaimer: This story is a Chris Jackson (AKA Harbinger96) original and is not to be shared, posted, downloaded or distributed without the author’s consent. All characters are fictional, and 18 years old or older. This content is for mature audiences only.

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Disclaimer: This is a Chris Jackson original and is not to be shared or posted without my permission. All characters are 18 and older, as well as fictional. This content is for mature audiences. No AI was used in the writing of this story.

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Synopsis: Twenty-two year old college Junior Kate Riddick’s life becomes a roller coaster when she’s enrolled in the “Tax Relief Work Plan Lottery,” a system that gives her a randomized public service, job, healthcare, benefits, and housing. She is enrolled in the Public Duty of being a “Rose,” a State-endorsed sex worker. It’s something Kate never woul…

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WIP

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This week’s WIP is an older sto…

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Disclaimer: This story is a Chris Jackson original and is not to be shared or posted without credit to me. All characters are fictional and are 18 or older. This content is for mature audiences only. Ebook cover designed by me with visme.comThis story was written using Microsoft Word, no AI generators. There is some Christian/Arab discrimination, but no…

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Last week was rough for a number of personal reasons. It’s a bunch of family problems, therapy, and sob story, so I won’t say much more than that. But last week just wasn’t it for being in the mood for spicy and romantic writing. I did the best I could with The East…

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Disclaimer: This story is a Chris Jackson original. All characters are 18 years old or older, and are fictional. This content is for mature audiences only. The cover was created by me, using visme.com No AI was used in the writing of this story.

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Update

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I’ve seen a slight build in Patreon lately, and I’m super glad for that. I love the amount of extra features here like polls and how easy it is t…

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