Chapter 5
5
Braden
G race laces up her sneakers before throwing me a mischievous look. “Are you ready?” she asks with a pointed smile. “I didn’t know you liked neon so much.”
My black brows waggle because I’m clad in a neon windbreaker, black running shorts, and yellow sneakers. The colors are eye-watering and pretty fucking ugly, if I say so myself. But I want to go trail running with Grace because any time spent with this woman is amazing and well worth it.
“Sweetheart, you haven’t seen me wearing much clothing at all, so how would you know?”
The curvy girl laughs as she bounces a bit on her toes, her blonde ponytail shaking. She’s outfitted in the sexiest athletic wear I’ve ever seen, none of which is neon. Her huge tits are encased in a tiny pink sports bra, white flesh oozing from the sides, and she has a matching short skirt on that barely comes past the bubble of her butt. White socks hug toned calves, ending in a pair of pink sneakers that are double-laced. Grace is a fucking vision, the way she always is.
“I haven’t seen you wear much,” she acknowledges with another playful smile at me. “But really? A neon yellow windbreaker? And yellow running shoes?”
I look down at myself. It’s true, I look like a fluorescent glow-stick at the moment, and let out a low chuckle.
“I have a limited selection of clothing, so I have to wear whatever’s in my closet, and it’s this neon shit. You know me, sweetheart. I’m not into clothes. I get my jollies from being outside and active.”
Grace throws her arms around my bronzed neck before going onto her tippy-toes for a sensuous kiss.
“I know, and that’s why I’m attracted to you, Mr. Rock,” she murmurs against my lips. “You’re not the average guy who’s indoors all the time, staring at a computer screen so that you’re pasty and white. Your muscles are all real, and come from hard labor, and not a personal trainer.” With that, Grace whirls on her toes and steps outside of her cabin, me following in her wake. “Ready?” she smiles at me. “Let’s go!”
Then, she darts down the trail, jogging faster than I expected. Of course, the curvy girl is no match for me when it comes to running because I’m an athlete. When I’m in Vegas, I work out six times a week at the gym, no excuses. I lift, run on the treadmill, and sometimes box to maintain my physique. Don’t get me wrong because it fucking sucks to get up at 5 a.m. to hit the gym, day in and day out. But if I want to maintain my physique, then that’s what needs to happen. A couple of my friends are already getting paunchy and rundown, and it’s because they don’t have the discipline. Meanwhile, I’ve been at it since I was fifteen years old and look like fucking He-Man as a result.
But yeah, Gracie has no idea that I’m actually a billionaire from Vegas, and the lies kill me a little more every day. I’ve been lying through my teeth to the curvy girl these past couple weeks, and shit’s getting slippery. The young woman thinks I’m a blue collar lumberjack between gigs, living in a shitty one bedroom cabin halfway up the hill from hers. She thinks that my physique is from chopping wood and clearing forest growth all day. She thinks that I scrimp and save to afford my life, when actually, the opposite is true. I’m actually a tech CEO who could buy and sell the entire town of Fairview if I wanted to. Hell, maybe I will. Who knows? It could be cool to re-name the town “Rockwell.”
But it’s been nice living in this fantasy. Gracie has no idea who I am, and doesn’t care that I’m a humble lumberjack. She loves me as I am, and basically stays at my cabin most nights now, letting me fuck that tender cunt whenever I want, which is a lot. I’m allegedly “between gigs,” so I don’t have to get up for work in the mornings. Instead, I fuck her young body morning, noon, and night, making her scream with joy. Oh, and she’s gifted me with her other cherries as well, so I’m fucking those too. What a lucky asshole, right? I get my choice of pussy, ass or mouth whenever I want, 24/7.
But I do my share. I help her with her so-called “farm.” Again, it’s a tiny plot of land seeded with maybe two hundred marijuana plants, halfway up the hillside. It’s not a lot of work, although there were a couple days when we had to hustle because of the weather, fertilizer, or other agricultural issues. But I’m never worried because my girl knows what she’s doing. She’s deft and quick to foresee any problems for her crops, and I respect her horticultural skills.
It's her family that’s the fucking mystery. In the time I’ve been using their daughter’s curves, neither her father nor brother have shown up once.
“Do they call, at least?” I asked, one brow raised after I claimed her hot and sweaty by the tool shed. We have the place to ourselves, so we basically fuck like rabbits all over the place. “Surely, your dad and brother check up on you every now and then.”
Gracie looked down, a flush on her cheeks as she bit her lip.
“Well, reception is bad here, but I do hear from them every now and then. Of course, I haven’t heard from them in a while, but it’s because our last harvest was plentiful, so Robbie and Jim have more than enough to work with. And it’s on me too,” she says quickly. “I haven’t reached out to them either.”
I nod thoughtfully while gently running my fingers through the come leaking from her pussy. I push the viscous seed back into Gracie’s damp hole because that’s where it belongs: inside my woman, where it can’t get out.
But still, what the hell is wrong with these her family? Why haven’t these fuckers checked up on Gracie, when she’s young and alone halfway up the mountain? I mean, fuck, if I knew my daughter was being fucked rough and wild by a mountain man, I’d come up with a shotgun in my arms. I’d be hauled off for homicide at the first blast because that fucker wouldn’t have a head anymore.
But Gracie always excuses their actions, and she doesn’t like to talk about her family much either. She said her mom left when she was a kid, and her dad worked hard to keep her and her brother clothed and fed. I respect that, but still. Something’s not right, and I have a bad feeling about these motherfuckers. Selling a puny amount of MJ isn’t enough to feed a family, much less sustain yourself for the long run. There’s something jacked up going on, and I’m pretty sure that they’re hiding it from my beautiful girl.
But right now, we’re on a run so I put it out of my head. My girl looks gorgeous with that big bottom bouncing and jouncing as she skips up the hill like a gazelle. Fuck. I’m athletic, but cardio’s not my thing and I’m huffing and puffing by the time I get up there next to her.
“Winded, some?” she giggles as I bend over, my hands on my knees. “Who would have thought that the big ole lumberjack would be felled by trail running?”
I glare at her playfully, still trying to get my breath back.
“I tromp through the forest in my steel-toed boots conquering trees left and right,” is my growl. “I don’t run through the trees, I fell them. If they had legs, they’d take off through the forest when they see me coming.”
Gracie rolls her eyes playfully.
“Oh really, and do you brandish your axe over your head?” she snarks. “Like you’re getting ready to throw it?”
I pin her with a look.
“Baby, we don’t use axes on the job. We use fucking chainsaws that are bigger than you. When I don’t have you in bed, I take my chainsaw to bed and hump it like it’s a woman. It’s got a sexy smell, and the thrum of the motor makes me horny.”
Gracie giggles again before darting down the path, that big rump shaking deliciously with every step.
“Oh really, you fuck chainsaws?” she calls over her shoulder. “What other equipment do you fuck? Hammers? Nails? Maybe a leaf-blower?”
I growl, my blue eyes flaring as her giant breasts bobble so hard that they almost fall out of her sports bra. But the woman is onto something, and she doesn’t even know it because I’m a fucking pervert. Sure, I’ve been nasty in bed with her, punishing all three of her holes and playing eenie meenie miney mo between them whenever I want. But that shit is still straight sex to me, and pretty vanilla too. No, my tastes can get pretty fucking extreme because I like it rough. I like watching a girl take dildo in her pussy, and another in her ass, as she chokes with my cock in her mouth. I like spitting on her, and letting my saliva drool between her hungrily parted lips. I love seeing lipstick on my dick, and then watching her hump that lipstick canister, sliding it in and out of her slick folds before pushing it into her asshole too. My tastes are fucked up, and I just haven’t unleashed them on Gracie yet.
After all, the young woman was a virgin mere weeks ago. Her hymen was busted on my cock, leaving a telltale smear of red on that massive shaft, and when I saw Grace’s first blood, something fucking strange happened. Possession coursed through my veins, and I couldn’t think for a moment. The only words circling in my head were, “ Mine, mine mine. She’s mine.”
But how the fuck would that work? I’ve been lying to Grace all this time, and about everything too. About my identity. About where I come from, and what I do for a living. About my family, and the debauched life that my twin and I enjoy in Vegas. Hell, Gracie thinks I’m a good guy. She thinks I’m a hard-working American, like so many of our fellow citizens, when the truth is that I’ve fucked so many women over the years that it isn’t even funny. I’m embarrassed to recall my exploits at this point.
So yeah, I have no idea how I’m going to break the ugly truth to Grace. She’ll be devastated and probably kick me to the curb. But it’s for the best because a woman so soft and sweet deserves better than me. She deserves a man who will care for her, and comfort her when she cries. She deserves a man who will put a roof over her head, and give her a passel of children. She deserves a man who’s loyal and kind, and who will make her an honest woman with a diamond on her finger and the promise of a golden anniversary. Meanwhile, I’m a motherfucker who only looks out for myself. Kids? Marriage? Hell no. That shit is fucked-up and I wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole.
Still, as I watch Gracie jogging off in the distance, her voluptuous curves barely contained by her tiny run outfit, my heart softens in my chest because the young woman would be an incredible mother. I can see it already: Gracie, with a baby latched to her breast, as a tow-headed toddler stumbles up, his face and fingers sticky. She’ll laugh before pressing a kiss to his forehead, only to have the child scamper off again as the baby continues to drink. That’s my girl, so womanly and fine, nurturing two kiddos. A painful pang shoots deep in my gut then. What the fuck ... am I actually experiencing longing ? Do I actually want to be the man that puts those children in her belly? The ring on her finger, even?
Then, I draw up abruptly because the fact is that I can’t. I’ve always been aware of my deviant nature, and when I was in my twenties, I had a vasectomy. It wasn’t a hard decision, nor anything I had to ponder for an extended period. Sure, the surgeon warned me that the procedure would be near- impossible to undo, and that I was on the young side to request the operation. But I’m a fucked up individual, and I’d be a fucked up father too. I wouldn’t do that to a child, so I went through with it and have never regretted the decision.
Now though ... fuck, I don’t know. I curse myself internally before setting off in a jog after my girl. Grace is so lush, womanly, and so feminine in every way. I have an urge to pounce on her before ravaging that curvy female form. I want to breed her, making her mewl as I fill her with cream, and then watch with satisfaction as her belly grows and swells with child. I want... I want....
But I can’t because vasectomies are forever. That ship has sailed, and there’s no turning back. Seriously, I shouldn’t be feeling regret because I know Grace is too good for me. She’s too sweet and innocent, not to mention young. The curvy girl deserves better, and I’m the guilty motherfucker wasting her time.
I finally catch up to her, and she smiles while glancing back at me over one shoulder.
“Took you long enough,” she says in a sassy tone while sticking out her tongue. “Do old geezers all run slow? Or are there some fast ones?”
That does it. It’s the words combined with the bouncing curves, combined with the tongue move. I literally tackle the young woman, bringing her to the ground, although I make sure to roll as we tumble so that she’s cushioned from the fall by my rock hard frame. Then, her sports bra and skirt are off, leaving her clad in nothing but a tiny pair of panties. That, too, is gone in a moment, although I pause to inhale from the lace, enjoying the scent of fertile cunt mixed with pussy sweat.
“Oh my god!” she squeals, her skin glistening and firm in the afternoon light. “We’re out on a trail, Braden! Someone could see.”
“No one’s going to see,” I growl while pushing her down so that she’s crouched face forward, her hands braced against a log stump. “No one ever comes out here, so I’m going to fuck you until you’re crying. Now shut up and take my dick,” I say in a harsh tone. Then, I fuck into that tiny twat, so big that she literally freezes for a moment.
“Ohhhh!” she wails, her head tilting back. “Oh my god, oh my god!”
“Fuuuck,” I groan into her ear from behind, my chest plastered against her sinuous back. “Is it possible that you get tighter with every fuck? Is that even a thing?”
But she can’t answer because I’ve levered us to our feet, pushing her back down so that she has to brace her hands against the stump. Then, I begin jackhammering into that tight twat. The sound of wet flesh slapping in the woods is loud, and Grace wails again, her big breasts dangling as she’s fucked.
“Oooooh!!!” she squeals. “Mmm!”
“I know,” I pant. “It feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Thanks for getting my dick wet, baby, because you know what comes next.” Before she can reply, I pull my glistening shaft from her sopping folds and notch it at her anus before pushing deep into that dark cavern.
“Yesssss,” I hiss. “Fuck yeah.”
A few pumps into her ass almost puts me over the edge as I watch those ivory moons jiggle. But then I pull out from her ass, and pump back into her vag, enjoying the use of two holes at once.
“ Aieee !” Grace squeals again, almost lifted on her tiptoes by my relentless fuckery. “Oh oh oh!”
“That’s it, I know you like getting that filthy pussy fucked. But you’re my nasty girl so you enjoy a butt-fucking even more, right? Here you go, sweetheart, I’ll serve it right up for you.”
Then, I slip out of her cunt before slipping back into her anus, and that does it. Grace loves the stimulation in both of her holes and she shatters in my arms. I feel the pulsing start deep in her vag, and then her asshole clamps down, rippling with excitement as she screams with ecstasy.
“Yes, Braden! Buttfuck me! Yes, use my asshole to make yourself come. Ooooh, yes yes yes!”
I love how my girl talks dirty even though she’s so new to this shit. My balls rise high and tight against my groin, and I find my release as well. A shout bursts from my chest as I fuck deep into her rear end, enjoying the tight grip of her rectum.
“Yes, milk me with those anal walls,” I groan. “Mmm, fuck you feel so good baby. Fuck fuck FUCK!”
We shudder and shout for another couple minutes, likely scaring away all the wildlife. But when our panting subsides, birds trill and the day continues as if nothing’s wrong. The sun is still shining, and damn, but a gray-brown mountain chickadee jumps from one branch to another, not five feet away from us.
“You okay, sweetheart?” I ask hoarsely. “I know I’m rough with you, but that’s my thing, baby. I enjoy rough sex. I need it.”
Grace is panting and sweaty, her curviness shielded by my masculine bulk. But she manages to turn her head slightly before catching my mouth in a brief kiss.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she murmurs with a smile. “And you know I enjoy the rough sex too, Braden. It completes me. You complete me.”
I go silent, my big body still buried in her asshole because what the fuck is going on? Isn’t that a line from Jerry Maguire ? Are we in a fucking rom-com right now? But the fact is that Grace completes me as well ... but will she hate me when the truth about my identity comes out?