Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
“The thing is…you are twice my size. And it hasn’t occurred to you that…”
“What?”
“You could have me.” She backs up a pace, her fingers curling around the edge of my kitchen table. “I wouldn’t be able to stop you.”
I suck in a breath so horrified that it razes my throat. “I would never touch an unwilling woman. You told me you aren’t warming my bed tonight, Bianca, and I will never, ever cross your boundaries.” I pound a fist to my chest. “That is written in stone.”
“Oh,” she whispers, seemingly shaken. “Oh my.”
“Pardon?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing. It’s just that you’re…a good man. I don’t think there are very many of you left, Dusty.”
Her praise causes my flesh to swell painfully, more moisture escaping. “I really need to get out to the barn, Bianca. I’m making a mess.”
“It’s just that…” She glances at the ridge of my cock, blushes and looks away. “Well, like I mentioned, I don’t have any experience. And since we’ve established that I’m safe with you, I was thinking I could watch.”
I’m growing dizzier by the second. My mouth is somehow salivating and dehydrated all at once. I already believed her to be a creature crafted personally by the hands of God, but these words she is saying make me wonder if…
No.
This miracle named Bianca isn’t meant for me. It’s impossible.
But what if I was allowed just a little peek into heaven on this night? What if she is my reward for toiling every day for five years to restore this farm to its former glory? My service to the country before that. The presence of an angel for one night. Because her presence is all I can hope for. I won’t ask for more. I won’t expect more.
“You want to watch me?” I rasp.
Wetting her lips, she nods. “Where do you normally…do it?”
The back of my neck turns piping hot. “I feel immoral talking about these kinds of habits with you.”
“I won’t tell anyone.” She bats those big green eyes at me. “It’s just us here, Dusty.”
The chicken squawks.
“And Mildred,” she tacks on, giggling.
Somehow, I find myself laughing, too. A rusted chug of sound that makes me realize I haven’t laughed in years. Further proof that she’s a miracle. “We’ll have more privacy in the bedroom,” I say, stroking myself openly through the denim now. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“Me either,” she whispers.
And we have a moment. Just a moment where we look at each other across my kitchen. In the space of a few seconds, I imagine her in there forever. Drinking coffee at the table, sitting on my knee while I massage her neck, bouncing a baby on her hip, hosting a party. I can’t stop the visions no matter how hard I try. They make me burn. Ache.
Stop being greedy.
But maybe I am just a little greedy, because when Bianca turns and saunters toward the bedroom, crooking her finger at me over her shoulder, I follow hungrily, desperate to accept this gift I’ve been given. A chance to explore my lust with a woman who inspires it to a point I can barely control. She’s going to watch me masturbate.
I won’t ask for anything more.
I will continue to be the good man she believes I am.
But I will enjoy this chance to be a little bad tonight.
3
Bianca
Oh my God.
What am I doing?
I’m flushed and agitated and making bad choices.
The bad choices part is nothing new for me. Lately, I’ve taken to shoplifting just so I can eat. Nothing big. A loaf of bread. A jar of peanut butter. Ramen. I know it’s wrong, but I’m two months behind on rent and every penny is going toward keeping a roof over my head.
Usually, none of my bad choices are man related.
There’s a first time for everything, I guess.
It’s hard to explain why I’m walking into this giant man’s bedroom, except to say…
I like him. A lot.
The honesty and integrity surround him like an aura. His skin is filthy from a day’s work on the farm and his body reacts involuntarily to me. He has needs. This is a man. He’s not soft and standoffish and wishy-washy like the dudes in the city. In fact, the comparison makes me laugh under my breath. This is a man who works with his fingers in the earth, sweat on his brow…and he is aroused for me. I stir him.
I’m not sure why that gratifies me so much. Maybe because I know it’s real. I don’t have to question Dusty or his motives, the way I must be skeptical of everything in my life. Not to mention everyone. Casting directors, other actresses, my weird neighbors.
What I see with Dusty is what I get.
And what he’s showing me is doing funny things to my own body.
With any other man, I would be alarmed or offended by his erection. By the way he’s touching it, scrubbing at the thickness of it through his overalls. But I’m not offended by Dusty’s actions. I’m…hot.