“I parked in a no parking zone, so we better get going.”
He gently places me in the passenger seat, tosses my bags into the back of his truck, and slides into the driver’s side with a smile. We’d missed spending Christmas and New Year’s together—two of my favorite holidays—and now, as January comes toa close, early spring seems just around the corner in Texas. I feel a strange sense of sad nostalgia being gone for these major holidays away from my family and him, the people that I love most.
“Got a surprise for you,” he says as we take off on the short thirty-minute drive back to town.
I rub my hands together eagerly, “I can’t wait to see what it is.”
I admire his side profile as he drives, the way he's grown out his beard and the fullness of his lips as he concentrates on the road while his free hand rests firmly on my thigh.
Six weeks with no contact except written letters, we'd had to get very descriptive about what we wanted to do to each other when we were together again, and I’m feeling extra horny and completely flustered.
I reach across the console, cupping the noticeable bulge in his denim jeans firmly and savoring the fact that I can do this again.
He laughs, “You’re going to cause an accident with all that, Paloma.”
“I need you,” I groan, “Please, can we pull over somewhere. Like… I don’t know, a motel?”
His eyes lock onto mine briefly, his jaw tightening with resolve.
“Behave.”
He removes my hand from his pants, places it back on my lap then dips his own fingers into the waist band of my sweatpants as I spread my knees wider, welcoming his touch. Into my pants his fingers slip as he roughly pushes aside my underwear and dips two digits inside of my opening.
“My girl. So wet for me.”
“I've been so deprived,” I lament dramatically as I lay my head back on the seat rest and close my eyes while rocking my hips forward to deepen his thrusts.
Suddenly, the truck lurches to the right causing my eyes to fly open as he makes a sharp turn onto a dirt road. After a short distance, he pulls over into an abandoned field and puts the truck in park.
“What’s going on?”
“Get in the bed of the truck.”
“Oohh!” I squeal hopping out and walking around to the back where Dallas has already pulled down the hatch. It’s deep enough that if we’re both lying on our backs, we can’t be seen by rogue passerby’s and the road where we parked on seems abandoned anyways, but there’s still a thrill of possibly being caught that I like.
I lay down on my back as Dallas climbs on top of me and settles between my legs, yanking my sweatpants from my hips but keeping my underwear intact and pushing it to the side.
"Leaving this on just in case someone comes I can quickly push it back in place. Don’t want someone getting an eyeful of your beauty who doesn’t deserve to see it."
He snaps the band of my flimsy underwear as I nod, then lowers his head, licking one flat, long lick across my opening before burying his face so firmly inside of me I can feel his nose against the inside of my walls.
“Fuck…”
His forearm reaches out, pinning my abdomen in place while his other hand grabs my thigh, tossing my leg over his shoulder so that he can deepen his reach into me.
“I love the way you taste. Been thinking about this every single night when I jack off.”
“Fuck…” I groan again, arching into his mouth as his tongue dives deeper. The rough fabric of the thong that’s still in place cuts right over my clit, adding to the friction and reminding me that this will likely go fast.
His hands reach under my loose t-shirt, tweaking a nipple between his calloused fingers.
“You bloom just like my plants, so perfectly in my hands,” he pulls back to admire the view between my legs, and I’m once again reminded of the many ways that Dallas embraces and cherishes my femineity. “Never seen such a pretty flower in bloom.”
His face lowers again, this time drawing my clit into his lips and lashing at it with his tongue. His words of praise have become my favorite poetry and when I quickly come, I know I'll have marks on my back from the way my body thrashed against the ridged truck bed.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says smiling as he pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and gently wipes around my sensitive, swollen folds. After I’m clean, he slides my sweatpants back over my hips and helps me out of the bed and back into the truck.
Twenty-five minutes later of animated chatter from me catching him up on my tour, we’re finally pulling into Golden farm.
