Chapter Thirteen Home
Timbered sections of wall, then fieldstone sections, and a big chimney. All one level. Woods sitting in a semi-circle surrounding the bright green lawn dotted with dandelions.
It’s not fancy, not at all. But it’s solid, and sturdy, and perfect. Like Gordon.
Gordon, who is pacing on the small wooden porch when I pull in. Then he’s at the side of the car, opening my door, and babbling. Legit nervous energy babbling.
Because he wants to impress me. Wants me to like this place.
Do I feel spoiled, special, and important?
Yes, and I could get used to it.
“Hi! Oh, good, you found it. This section of town is sort of... neglected. But I think it’s in for a revamping. No pun intended. No vampires here. That I know of. But... Uh. Yes. You wanted to camp, hike, and fish, right?”
“Riiiight,” I drag out the word suspiciously when Gordon leads me to the porch and points out two fishing poles and a small metal tackle box. “But that’s not going to happen tonight. Is it?”
“I don’t see why it couldn’t happen today and over the weekend. You bought your overnight bag?”
“I did. And Chopin has food and water in case I sleep over.” I’m so sleeping over.
“We can fish for supper, and then camp tonight. Come back tomorrow after work, and we can go on a sunset hike.”
“You’re planning dates. You realize that, right?” I slip my arm through Gordon’s with a smirk.
“That’s... Bad? Oh, because it sounds like I didn’t ask your opinion?” Gordon’s eyes narrow. “But you’re the one who said you wanted to do those things in the first place.”
“It’s not bad. The best boyfriends plan dates, and they plan them with the girl in mind.”
Gordon shuts the door behind us as we enter the cabin, and his body presses right to my back. His hands circle my waist, and he kisses my neck with a long, contented hum of happiness. “You are always on my mind, Andrea.”
Even though we only saw each other this morning, my body instantly craves his. This is that “honeymoon phase” that people talk about. I’ve experienced it before, but honestly, the sex and giddiness were nothing compared to this.
Probably because past lovers didn’t worship me the way Gordon does; they didn’t make it their mission in life to give me Os like we’re in an illicit tic-tac-toe game.
“You were on my mind all day, too.” I wriggle my rear against his crotch and instantly feel the hard thickness of him indent my hip.
His hands coast down my pink-and-yellow calico-print sundress, stopping at the hem, waiting for permission.
“Would you like... Would you like to see the bedroom?” Gordon asks, voice as stiff and thick as a certain other part.
I look around the room as I guide his hand between my thighs, bunching the skirt up so he can rub my needy pussy through the thin pink thong I’m wearing.
Faded green couch. Second-hand recliner (at least I think it is, based on the age and wear). A kitchen that flows into a dining area with a small round table, and not much else.
Gordon’s hand dips under the fabric, one wide finger finding my clit and then sliding it past it, lodging between my lips and slowly sliding inside the spot that’s permanently wet now, carrying hours of arousal and the remnants of Gordon’s cum.
“I think I want to see the table first,” I pant, pulling him with me until my hands slam down on the dark brown wood that’s polished to a gloss.
“Here?” Gordon’s voice pricks up with excitement.
“Here. In the bedroom. In any room.” I turn my head to capture his lips as his hips jam up against mine and my elbows give out, planting my torso and cheek against the table.
“Outside?” Gordon hisses. I hear his pants drop, and his strong hands part my cheeks.
“Kinky boy,” I tease. “Yes, outside. As long as we’re on a blanket. I don’t want bug bites in bad places,” I chuckle.
Gordon drops to his knees and buries his mouth between my spread legs, tongue teasing and swirling over my clit. “Kinky. What’s kinky to my Andrea? And does that mean not to do it?”
That’s a good question, and I feel a fresh wave of appreciation for my boyfriend. My “more than a boyfriend,” even if it’s not official yet. I can feel it. I love how he asks and doesn’t just try to guess, blundering along and getting huffy if he’s wrong.
“Kinky means things that aren’t strictly man-penetrating-woman sex.
If you asked someone else—oooh, just like that— it would be different,” I pant, grinding back against his talented tongue.
“We’re just not that experienced. I would do lots of things with you, Gordon.
All you would have to do is ask, and we could decide together. ”
Gordon moans agreement from where he’s lapping my slit, giving a hedonistic groan as his tongue slips inside and finds the salty mix of pussy and cock that I’ve been growing very familiar with after several days of marathon sex.
“Fuck, I love how you taste,” Gordon sighs, rises, and his broad back flattens me in an embrace.
I love it. I love the feeling of being smothered in his warmth, followed by the feeling of being so full it almost hurts. This is a new angle, and I’m surprised at how quickly the pleasure builds once he’s inside of me, aiming up and in.
“Feels really good. So full.” Each stroke is making me lightheaded—although that might be the troll crushing the air out of me. Whatever it is, I’m enjoying it.
“So wet and hungry for me. So tight.” Gordon kneads my bare bottom while he shoves his impressive member in deep.
His thumb grazes my backdoor, and to my surprise, it feels amazing.
I’m not sure if it was an accident or not, not until Gordon whispers in my ear, “What made your pussy grab me so tight, my Andrea? Telling you how much I love your tight, sweet pussy? Or this?”
I gasp when his forefinger rubs deliberate circles across my anus while he’s buried inside.
I don’t have to answer. My pussy is a tattletale, milking and squeezing on Gordon while my thighs start to shake.
“Is that kinky?”
“It’s new. It’s not off-limits; it just needs extra time. I’m not ready for that—no, no. Not the rubbing. The rubbing is good. The sex part. The part where you fuck my ass instead of my pussy. That needs time, and prep, and lube. So much lube.”
“Oh. We don’t have to do that.”
“One day, I want to do that, if you do—and I know you do,” I laugh. “Your cock started leaking like a broken faucet when you thought about stuffing my tight little ass.”
“Stop,” Gordon moans.
“Really stop?”
“No. Keep talking.”
“Mmm. Gordon and Andrea underneath a tree, f-u-c-k-i-n-g...”
Gordon’s hand slaps down on my bottom, and I yelp. He yelps along with me, both of us shocked. “I am so, so sorry,” he gasps. “I don’t know what...”
“I was being naughty, and you spanked me.”
“I would never do that.”
“You just did that. It wasn’t violent. It was playful. There’s a difference, and you and I know what it is. How it feels to be comfortable together.”
“Oh. God. Yes. Yes, comfortable with you. Andrea, this house would turn into a home if you shared it with me. And we would go under the trees. And we’d make love in every room.
” Gordon’s cock starts to pound my pussy as my hand squeezes down to find my clit.
His thumb strokes across my asshole once more, then he squeezes both my cheeks, rubbing and caressing them.
“It would. Wait... Me? Here?”
“With the cat, of course.”
“With the cat,” I agree.
What the hell am I agreeing to?
“Will you live here with me?” Gordon whispers, pounding me harder. My feet leave the floor. My pussy complains as the pleasure and fullness collide. Too much. Too much.
“Yeeeeeesss!” I wail as I come, pussy erupting, hot spurts of liquid coating my thighs and falling to the floor.
“Andrea, are you okay?”
“That’s okay. Women do that. Sometimes, when they’re comfortable—and their boyfriend is a sex god,” I whimper, still riding the pleasure that comes in waves.
“I’m going to fill this pussy up. All day, I have dreamed of seeing your pretty pussy full of my cum. Imagined you in my bed, pussy dripping and full.”
Well, damn. Now I like that, too. “Dripping and full on the table will have to do for round one,” I pant, ribs starting to ache from their ride against the table.
“Round two later?”
“Mmhmm. In your bed. One full, dripping girlfriend.”
“Is that... Is that a kinky thing? That I like seeing you full of my cum?”
How this man sounds so innocent, so sweet, and so filthy at once is a miracle, and it’s all mine. “It’s perfectly kinky, baby.”
“Good.” Gordon lets out a deep, roaring bellow that I’ve never heard, slams into my still-spasming pussy, and empties inside of me.
When I can breathe again and my ears stop ringing, I slowly straighten up. “Wow. What a welcome.”
“Yes.” Gordon nods proudly. “Welcome home. You did say yes when I asked you to live here with me, didn’t you?”
I think back. Since my brain has been short-circuited by my first-ever squirting orgasm and a primal side of my hot firefighter, I’m going to have to trust Gordon on this. “Uh. Yes. I think so.”
“When your lease on the apartment is up, maybe?”
“Well... That’s next month.”
Gordon’s eyes light up as he scoops me into his arms. “Perfect!”
I smile as he carries me to his rustic, old-fashioned bathroom. “Yeah. It is.”
The night is perfect. I teach Andrea to fish.
She teaches me to sing an old song she learned in Girl Scouts, a camping song, she calls it.
We fish, sing, and catch a brook trout that’s big enough for both of us, and we eat outside with fireflies and a roaring fire in the old rusty barrel that’s cut in half and serves as my brazier-firepit.
Fire doesn’t bring back bad memories for either of us, it seems. Not as we spread a blanket out and watch the flames get low.
Not as Andrea shivers and snuggles closer.
Before long, she climbs into my lap, now in comfy cotton shorts and a t-shirt that shows a globe with a music staff circling it.
She’s wearing my earrings. She takes pictures of us together, faces lit by firelight, our smiles wide, and eyes bright.
“I look happy,” I whisper when she shows me the photos.
“Me, too. You know... You know, I don’t think I can leave Pien Ridge now. Not unless you were leaving, too.”
I swallow suddenly. “Do you want me to leave?” I ask. “To go back to your hometown with you?” I can’t imagine living in a busy, crowded city, even if falling in love with Andrea has changed so many things about my life in a short time.
“No. I mean, I’m staying. I’m living here, with you. Probably in this cabin.”
“I’m going to build onto it. And I’m going to build a swingset for the baby. And a big outdoor play area for the cats.”
“Baby? Cats?”
“Our son and daughter,” I confess with a yawn. “And Chopin, Beethoven, Brahms, and Liszt. We can call her Lizzy for short.”
“That’s actually longer.”
“I don’t care.”
“You planned out a whole future, huh?”
“Well,” I try to remember what I learned about dates. “A good boyfriend plans one night. A good man should plan many nights. But, as always, he should ask his girlfriend what she wants. Although, I suppose that would mean I was no longer a boyfriend. I would be a husband.”
Andrea goes still in my lap. Goes quiet.
That’s not good.
“Or not,” I whisper, pulling her hair back, tucking it over her ear. Her hair with its uneven pieces from burns. Her earrings with the tiny white gold notes. My beautiful, perfect Andrea, who is already bearing little marks of life with me.
Her silence is every dark space I’ve lived in combined. She’s my sunlight. My music.
“Is that, like... a proposal?” Andrea whispers back.
“No! Oh, no, I know. I would have a ring. One knee. I have seen enough movies to know that’s the best thing, the way women like to be asked. I was... I was only planning. Talking.” I shake my head at the stars and sigh, “I am not good at talking.”
“You are excellent at talking. And you’re right.
If a guy wants to marry me, I want a ring, and a pretty proposal, and I want my mom and dad to know the guy.
But... But that was excellent planning for the future.
” Andrea tilts her head back. Her eyes are bright, even in moonlight, and her smile is soft and sleepy. “I approve.”
She approves of me being her husband one day.
“Why four cats?”
“Hm? Oh. I don’t know.”
But I do. Matthew, Randall, Hugo.
And me.
Four little creatures who could grow up in a blend of home and wilderness. Happy. Safe.
“Four little kitties. I love it.”
“I love you.” I kiss Andrea’s hair and sink back against the old stump that cradles us.
This is the life. Everything I thought I knew before?
No comparison.