Alona
The morning sun streams through my open window as I stare at myself in the mirror. This is my third attempt to get dressed for the day. What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I care about how I look today?
Dumb question. I know exactly why I am being extra this morning. Ford is here in just a few minutes. I am both horrified and excited to see him again.
Last night threw me for a loop. It’s not like I didn’t think I’d ever bump into the man again. I know he lives here. But I didn’t expect to break bread with him during our first bump-into. I also didn’t expect him to look so damn good. He looked fine as fuck, with white hair and graying stubble.
Rolling my eyes at my reflection, I close the closet door. I am dressed fine. I look fine. So what if I am not a skinny teenager any more? I like my curves, so why do I care if Ford likes them as well?
I start another pot of coffee when my doorbell rings.
Ford stands on my front porch, looking delicious, but I ignore that.
Just because he’s still good looking doesn’t mean he should take up any extra space in my head.
I make him a cup of coffee and take him on a tour of my tiny ranch.
Like everyone else who has been here, he falls in love with the silly goats immediately.
Walking back to the house, Ford points out a few broken slats on my fence.
“I can fix that today, Al.”
With zero thought, I mutter, “As long as you don't punch it.”
His face falls, but he doesn’t respond.
“I’m sorry, Ford. that was a shitty thing for me to say.”
“No, I get it. I was a mess in high school. It’s amazing you dated me for as long as you did, Al. I showed you my worst self. I do want you to know that I’ve grown up a lot over these decades.”
“I’ve heard.”
Our eyes meet and I feel my stomach do a somersault. I offer him a small smile. He returns it with his usual crooked grin, but this time it’s adorned with sexy laugh lines.
Lord, I need to cool it.
Ford accomplishes several minor jobs on the ranch during the morning.
At lunch time, I bring him a sandwich and a lemonade.
Before he sees me walking up to him, I enjoy an eyeful.
No longer wearing his shirt, I see he has grown up in more ways than one.
His sweaty, defined chest glistens in the sunlight.
I soak in the sight of his rugged farmwork-made muscles and his washboard abs.
Holy, this man is absolutely delicious looking.
“Oh, hey, thanks,” he says once he notices me.
I feel my face burn when his chocolate brown eyes meet mine. I watch Ford down the glass of lemonade in two gulps.
“Oh, let me get you more.” I offer.
“I’ll come with you. I should wash my hands first, anyway.”
As we walk back to the house, Ford asks me a few questions about how my life has been these last few decades.
“Do you still dabble in witchcraft, like in high school?” he asks, holding the door open for me.
“Well, I’m actually a full-blown witch now.”
The look on his face is priceless.
“That’s amazing, Al! You always had a knack for it.”
My cheeks are on fire yet again. I thank him.
“I’ll be including some spells in some soaps I will make here. Working all of that out now.”
“That’s really cool. I’m happy for you.”
For the rest of the day, Ford works on various projects he finds on the ranch. When he leaves in the evening, he gives me his signature sexy smile.
“See you tomorrow.”
After dinner, I run myself a hot bubble bath. I have been non stop thinking about Ford, and his buff chest, all evening long. I don’t know why I am doing this to myself. We have far too much baggage between us to ever attempt rekindling what we shared eons ago.
Soaking in the tub, I close my eyes and listen to the Celtic guitar album that’s playing from my bedroom. Ford’s bare chest keeps popping into my head and my pussy demands attention. Maybe if I just get myself off and release this urge, I can go back to not caring about Ford Ackerman.
Sliding my hand into the soapy water, I find my swollen, throbbing clit with my hands.
I picture Ford touching me down there, slipping his rough, rancher fingers inside of me.
I want his mouth on me. On my breasts, on my clitoris.
Even in high school, he loved to go down on me, and he was good at making me come quickly.
I can only imagine what adult Ford is like now in bed.
As I rub myself, I imagine him tossing me on the bed and taking over. I want him to pin my wrists to the bed as he has his way with me. Licking my tits, teasing my swollen lips with the head of his cock.
I remember how good he would feel inside my tight pussy.
Ford’s cock was the perfect fit, in my opinion.
Nice and thick. So thick that I found it difficult to go down on him, but the way he felt inside of me was incredible.
Most of my girlfriends in high school never orgasmed with their boyfriends, but not me.
Ford would send me over the edge every time.
Remembering how good he felt fucking me throws me off a cliff in the tub. I come so hard I accidentally kick water out onto the floor and yell loudly enough that I am sure the goats heard.