Texas Big Man

All night long visions of her floated behind my eyes. I kept replaying her look of surprise and awe when she saw my body in the shower. How she couldn’t look away. If the universe had ever created the perfect facial expression, it was that one. Shock mixed with desire and raw appreciation. It only made me harder. And it was only after jerking off twice more, so aware of her on the other side of that wall, that I finally feel asleep, just a couple of hours before dawn.

And now I’m lying here, morning wood nearly painful wondering if she’s still asleep.

The towel she was wearing didn’t hide as much as she thought it did, and it only made me harder to think about. Perfect, delicious curves against the flat backdrop of Texas. God, it has been a long time since I’ve been with anyone, but that isn’t the source of this desperation. It’s all her. She is…something else.

My cock practically falls into my hand again. It isn’t going to take long for me to come, thinking about her and her perfect body and imagining the way she’d moan if I’d pulled her into that shower the way that I really wanted to.

An embarrassingly short time later I groan into my pillow, spilling over my hand. And I could go again if I had the time. But this is a ranch. There are things to do, horses to feed, and I have a plan to lure Melena out of that bedroom.

I clean myself up quickly, throwing on clothes—including a shirt this time—and head downstairs to the kitchen. Like everything else on the ranch, it is startlingly basic. Most of the cabinetry and counters have been demoed already, and just the big old country stove, the refrigerator, and a huge wood table that practically spans the room are left. I don’t mind that, but Melena is from the city and she’s used to more creature comforts than this. Dishwashers, espresso machines, all sorts of fancy appliances.

It’ll be months before this kitchen is ready for its professional kitchen staff with all its complicated gadgetry, but these basics are plenty for me. Since I’ve worked on ranches like this for years, many even more bare bones than this one, I’m a master at making hearty ranch breakfasts with nothing more than a camp fire and a cast iron pan. A man’s got to eat, especially before a hard day of work, and there’s something in me that wants to show Melena that ranch life is the good life, despite the differences from the big city.

Step one, always, is a good strong cup of coffee. Doesn’t matter where I am, I always have my favorite coffee grounds and basic equipment for the best pour over you’ve ever had. I find the kettle and fill it up, strike a match and light the stove. I drove the two hours to the large market in the closest town before she arrived, so the refrigerator and pantry are stocked for the next couple of weeks. I reach in and grab a half dozen eggs, some thick sliced bacon, and butter. I heat the cast iron pan on the stove, and wait until I feel the heat coming off of it before I throw down half the bacon. It sizzles just as the kettle whistles. I look out the window and see the beautiful, wide open country, and I can’t help but feel excitement for this day. And Melena definitely has something to do with that.

Thirty minutes later the table is set. Thick slices of county bread are buttered, a mound of scrambled eggs sits beside the crispy bacon, and two mugs are on the table, waiting for Melena to finally come downstairs. I’m hoping the smell of bacon and eggs will bring her downstairs. She didn’t join me for dinner last night and I imagine she’s starving by now.

When I hear the stairs creak behind me, I smile. So the scent of food works. Good. I was starting to wonder if that girl ever eats.

Turning to face her, I see her hesitate on the stairs. Her hair hangs messy around her shoulders, and her eyes are bleary with sleep. She’s still in pajamas, short shorts that show off her tan and toned legs, and a shirt with a neck that’s too big and falling off her shoulder. It’s chilly enough in the morning that I can immediately tell that she’s not wearing a bra, nipples showing through the fabric. If I didn’t know any better I’d say she’d woken up from a night of good, dirty fun. Jesus.

The sun is barely above the horizon, so it’s probably a bit early for her. But that dazed look does it for me too, and I shift my body so that my erection isn’t immediately obvious. Just being around this woman is going to put a permanent dent in my blood supply if some of it’s always going to be in my dick.