Mark and I sat on our front porch bench swing, looking out at the expanse of chaparral visible from our wrap-around porch. Land use restrictions and timely research had landed us this location that looked and felt isolated, despite being mere minutes from town. The openness always made me think back to rugged times and hearty people. A past where people often made life-forming decisions with the conviction to carry them out.
Mark and I had agreed to such a decision within our relationship, that of my dominance in our sex lives. I became the decision maker on what, when, and how. My actions were never heartless, nor demeaning beyond the boundaries we had agreed to, but they were decisive and not to be challenged.
Our isolation gave me plenty of options for delightful fun. Our access gate was tucked behind a knoll, and there was a comfortable distance to our property fences. This meant that I could roam free without the concern of prying eyes. Make love wherever I choose. And be playful.
When Mark varnished the porch rails last month, I had him do it with just a tool belt and boots on while I sat on the porch swing. He took great care not to get any chemicals on him. I thanked him with food and drink breaks while edging his cock, but didn't let him cum until he completed the task late that day. His handiwork was unsurprisingly exceptional. So was the edging he got in our outdoor shower while massaging his prostate, judging by the cum stream that hit his face while standing.
But today was a day of rest. I just wanted to savor the warm afternoon breeze caressing my body, naked under a yellow and white sundress. Mark sat astride, sipping on some bourbon in a T-shirt and button-flies.
I loved the look of my man and the lust he generated inside of me. It was that dichotomy that made being dominant so rewarding. Controlling my urges while controlling him made my blood rush and orgasms ring out.
A refreshing gust caused me to ease back, closed my eyes, and splayed my legs so the wind could caress my shaved vulva as we gently rocked. Mark sat quietly, aware of exactly what I was doing, while letting me take in all the pleasures nature was affording me. I knew it was only a matter of time before his primal urges would show themselves.
When I felt the bench move sideways, I suspected I had achieved my intended results. I peered at his crotch to see that a ridge had formed against his thigh. He was hard. I was ready.
I leaned over to grab a couple of pillows, then reclined against one corner of the bench, left arm draped along the top and right leg overhanging the edge.
