I moved my hand down to my cock, standing ready to be touched and seeming to beg for some attention. I couldn’t help wincing a little bit as the sensitive flesh responded to my touch, imagining that it wasn’t me.
Lucy’s small hands had callouses built into them that demonstrated just exactly how hard she’d worked over the last few years, and they raised every hair on my body as she moved them down my front, opening the front of my jeans with a couple of quick moves before she slipped her hand into the gap made by my open fly. I groaned into her mouth as she started moving her hand up and down my cock.
I was close. Very close. The idea of Lucy seemed to have a power over me that I’d never experienced in any of my other fantasies, and it seemed to have taken me no time at all for me to get from zero to one hundred in less than five minutes.
I barely cared whether we could be seen from the house as I pushed her jeans down and lifted her up, wrapping her legs around my waist as I plunged into her. She gasped into my ear as I seated myself to the hilt, beginning to thrust inside of her over and over. I moved my thumb down to her clit. There was no way that I would be able to finish unless I felt her come, and with the way that she’d responded to me, I knew that she was just as close as I was.
I groaned as a few more strokes had me spilling all over my hand, and I practically melted forward, allowing my head to fall against the shower wall as I relaxed. The waves of the climax rolled through me, and I breathed deeply as the shuddering began to dissipate. Turning around, I leaned into the cool tile of the shower.
After I’d dried off and allowed myself to fully relax, I went into my room to put on the soft grey sweatpants that I’d just pulled out of the dryer that day, and the old worn tank top that was my favorite to sleep in.
As I sank into my usual preparation for my evening routine, I realized that I really had let most of the worry of the day go in the shower. I would fix the mares’ founder, and I knew that Lucy would take great care of the both of them.
I wandered out to the living room, where Aaron was sitting on the couch with the TV on. A quick look over at the screen told me that he was watching one of the rodeos he loved to use to take his mind off the business. Occasionally, one of the geldings that came out of our farm even appeared in them, and he loved it when he managed to catch a glimpse of them.
“Hey,” he said, taking a sip from his beer.
“We got any more of those?” I asked, tilting my chin toward the bottle in his hand.
“Yeah, there should be at least a couple more in the fridge,” he said. “It’s going to be your turn to replace them when we run out this time.”
“Fair enough,” I said, heading over to the open-concept kitchen that we shared and opening the door to the fridge. There was a pathetic assortment on the shelves, from old pizza to some leftover lasagna that our mom had sent home with us after one of our Sunday family dinners a week or so back. “You know, some of these leftovers are starting to look a little sus, bro.”
“If you feel like cleaning out the fridge, have at it,” he said, not taking his eyes off the TV screen. I smiled a little to myself as I shut the door and opened my beer with the bottle opener magnet.
Moving in with my brother had originally been meant as a temporary arrangement after I’d moved out of the house that I’d shared with Katie. He’d had a spare room, and one night after all four of us had been sitting there, helping me nurse my feelings with an extra handle of bourbon, he’d suggested that I take it while I figured out what came next.
“After all,” he’d said with a grin, “I’m gonna be way less likely to judge if you bring a rebound home than Mom and Dad will.”
That was two years ago. I’d slowly unpacked all the boxes that had been taking up space in the garage, and we’d fallen into an easier rhythm than we’d had as kids.
I really liked living with my brother. He’d always been a friend, but he’d become my rock in the last few years.
I dropped on the couch next to him, not saying much as I took in the rodeo on the screen. “I haven’t had the chance to tell you,” I said, turning to him seriously, “but Sage and Rosie are developing founder.”