Page 45 of Homestead

I have to climb over him to get to my side of the bed. Then I push down the covers from his body and ease down his underwear over his half-hard cock.

He combs the fingers of both his hands through my hair to hold my head as I lower it over his groin.

He’s mostly erect when I slide my mouth down over the length of him, and he grows and hardens all the way as I make my first few sucks.

He lets out a loud, raspy exhale and holds my head where he wants it. Firm but not pushy. A gentle sort of entitlement that always makes my pussy clench.

I’ve gotten better at blow jobs because I’ve had so much practice. I give him one almost every day. I can get more of him in my mouth now, and my teeth don’t get in the way like they used to.

He smells like soap with undernotes of dirt and sweat. It’s a familiar, natural smell, and it always makes my insides go soft.

His head is lifted up off the pillow, and he’s staring down at me as I pleasure him. He guides the bobbing of my head and rocks his hips up toward my sucking with light, shallow thrusts. “Oh fuck, Chloe. You always make me feel so damn good.”

I move a hand beneath my chin so I can find and massage his balls. He likes that. And he likes me to rub the sensitive spot behind them.

Tonight when I do, he chokes on a loud exclamation. His hips jerk, and his cock spasms in my mouth. I slide my lips up so he can ejaculate on my breasts.

My body is hot and flushed and pulsing deliciously as I straighten up, reaching for the hand towel we’ve started keeping next to bed to wipe his come off my chest.

When he collapses back after his climax, his body is limp, boneless. He gazes at me with heavy, sated eyes. “Thank you,” he rasps.

“You’re welcome.” I smile at him and move up his body. He pulls me against him, holding me in a soft embrace. “It seems like you really needed it today.”

Because my head is resting on his chest, I can feel his heart rate slow down, his breathing deepen. “I did,” he murmurs, sounding half-asleep. “I always do.”

I enjoy cuddling against him, so I’m in no hurry to move. But eventually I lift my head to check his face.

He’s sound asleep. Already.

I reach over to turn off the lantern and pull the covers up to his shoulders. Then I settle on my side of the bed and get comfortable.

I sleep better if I have an orgasm first, and Jimmy usually gives me at least one. I’ve actually gotten better about coming from intercourse, so sometimes I get two or three.

But he’s exhausted. He worked so hard today, and it would be ridiculous to expect him to do even more work to get me off before he’s allowed to sleep.

I like taking care of him. I like making him feel good. I wouldn’t have expected to get so much enjoyment out of caring for a man this way, but I really do.

And he takes care of me too.

Because my pussy is still pulsing and it’s distracting me, I roll onto my side, facing away from Jimmy, and slide my hand between my legs. I rub my clit with a circular motion, my breathing intensifying and my body tightening until I reach a fast rush of climax.

I’m able to relax afterward. I listen to Jimmy’s deep breathing beside me. Then I can finally fall asleep.

* * *

The next morning, I insist that Jimmy take it easy. He does his regular morning chores outside with the animals, but otherwise he fishes in the morning and naps in the afternoon. I don’t have all that much to do either, so I have plenty of time to read and rest before we go to his parents’ for the normal Saturday gathering in the evening.

I have a really good time, chatting with friends and enjoying the large spread of food. Jimmy plays guitar for people to sing to afterward, and that always gives me a little thrill.

That he’s so good at it. He’s got a warm, pleasant voice, and he knows what he’s doing on the guitar.

And he’s my man.

I’m in a good mood on the walk back, so much so that I have trouble restraining giggles.

Jimmy is in one of his warm, relaxed moods. I always like when he’s this way. He’s not often cold or distant, but he’s usually focused on everything that needs to be done during the day. He’ll always talk over our schedules or give me instructions on how to do things or make sure there’s nothing he needs to help me with, but he doesn’t usually talk for the sake of talking. He’ll occasionally find things amusing, but he doesn’t often spill over with good mood or laughter. He loves having sex, and he’s never selfish about it. He takes my needs seriously, but it seems to come from his strong sense of responsibility rather than deep, genuine affection.

Occasionally, when he’s acting softer than normal, I’ll gently ask him about Mary or about the early years after Impact or about his feelings… about anything. He’s never mean about rebuffing me, but he always does. He closes down the conversations before they barely get started. He simply doesn’t want to open up to me.

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