In the weeks following their return home, they didn't speak of the Ranch. In fact they didn't speak much at all.
They returned to work. Colin to the offices of his Computer Company and Lissa to her unpaid position as director of an outreach center. Colin threw himself into his work, even though the corporation had scarcely missed a beat in his absence.
He and Lissa had not been together - sexually, since coming home. He was terribly afraid she had gone back into her shell. Afraid that the Ranch had been some sort of dream a fever dream of passion and pleasure, not meant for the real world. Really, in the depths of his soul, he was terrified at the prospect of losing her.
Alone in his office, everyone else long since headed home, Colin was debating what to order for dinner. A knock on the door made him start as Lissa opened it and slipped inside. She was dressed in her work clothes, jeans and a fuzzy blue sweater with white sneakers. She was carrying a picnic basket. "I thought you might be hungry?" She said it shyly, as if expecting a rebuff.
"Starving." He stood his arms at his sides and let his eyes run down her long lean figure, making no effort to hide his yearning.
"For dinner?" Bolder now, she gave him a randy grin that made his balls tighten, and his groin ache.
"For you." His voice became deadly serious, and he saw her breasts lift as she caught her breath.
Desire burning in her eyes, she dropped the basket. "I thought you'd never ask." In a graceful motion she raised her arms and tugged the sweater over her head. She wore nothing under it and her full beasts tipped slightly as she held her arms aloft, dropping the garment.
He stood and took her narrow waist between his hands as her arms slowly twined about his neck. Running long fingers along her ribs he kissed her tenderly, his tongue tasting every aspect of her mouth. Pebble hard nipples rubbed against the heavy cotton of his shirt as she leaned in and pressed herself closer. Colin found the snap to her jeans and eased his hands inside. She helped him and wiggled her hips, the better to shed the pants.
His fingers found her hot, moist center and stroked the golden curls there. She was more than ready for him. As he cupped her dripping mound and compressed the throbbing clitoris between the swollen labia, she unbuckled his belt and opened his fly, releasing his pulsing hardness.
"Now!" Her tone was harsh with yearning. She rested her bottom on the edge of his desk and wrapped her long, silky legs around his hips.
He paused, glancing at the door, "What if someone..."
"I locked it on the way in." She pulled him closer, until his massive prick was at the entry to the narrow, rose colored core of her. "Please, I can't wait."
He could no longer bridle his enthusiasm and leaned forward, letting her guide him inside. The welcoming warmth of the tight passage made him moan with pleasure. "I love you so."
"And...I love...ahhh...you." He was thrusting powerfully, making her words come out in breathy sobs. After weeks of denial their craving was too strong. When she captured his rampant prick and held it with interior muscles clenching in paroxysms of pleasure, he lost control. He slammed into her one last time and began to spurt endlessly, holding her cradled in his arms, almost weeping from the sheer joy of finding her again.
He lifted her and went to the leather sofa. With her on his lap, he relaxed and leaned back, eyes closed. "That was great."
"Will it be enough, I mean...I know you like..."
"You are all I need to be happy." He sighed and stroked her back, his fingers brushing the slight ridge of the brand. "Will you ever want, you know - discipline."
"Only what you care to give." She let him rest for a while then slid off his lap and began to touch him again. Pushing his pants down, she took him into her hands. Her lips found his limp phallus and swirled her tongue around the broad tip. Her exquisite hands dipped between his thighs and lifted the heavy sac, weighing and testing the balls that filled the silken testicles. Burying her face in his lap she began to lick the sensitive, delicate flesh of his scrotum.
When he started to harden she turned playful, ordering him to kneel on the couch and lean over the butter soft leather of the arm. For a moment he flashed to the ranch, and the chair he had been tied to.
No! This was different; Lissa would never harm him. Entrusting himself to her, he lifted his knees to let her take off his trousers.
Then his shorts were eased off, slowly as if to prolong the suspense.
She knelt behind him and nuzzled his balls again, taking them each into her mouth. Then she began to explore him with tongue and fingers.
He longed to be taken, to be fucked as totally as he had fucked her. She pierced him with two fingers and he sighed, content to let her torment him instead, with her probing, questing hands and mouth.
Finally, she ordered him to stay put, close his eyes, and not turn around as she left the couch. He heard the basket open, and the jingle of buckles.
The skin on his back began to tingle with anticipation, as she returned to her position behind him. Shoving up his shirttail, she prodded him with her fingers, opening and stretching him.
Slender fingers spread him as an impressive hardness began to ease past the sturdy muscle that tensed his anus. A prick that rivaled his own pushed slowly into his ass making his eyes water. It was well oiled, but the size and the slow, twisting motion she used made him whimper and clutch at the leather of the sofa arm. With one last powerful plunge, she pushed it in to the hilt, then started to fuck him slowly, almost leisurely.
Her hands crept forward and took up his heavy erection, stroking in time to her thrusts as her nipples traced erotic patterns on the small of his back.
This is what I yearn for, he thought as he huffed and gasped the sweet pain of her penetration making familiar flashes of light dance behind his closed eyes. This feeling, so different from what he felt while fucking her. Then he felt strong and powerful, now he was vulnerable, open and helpless. Murmurs of pleasure, small plaintive sounds, came from deep inside him with each visceral prod of her tool.
As he grew accustomed to the depth and strength of her passion, he was able to move with her. When she thrust her hips forward he became still, trembling and expectant. As she backed away slowly, he waited until the big tool was almost out of him, then pushed back and impaled him anew. Even though he was stuffed and stretched almost to the point of pain, the pleasure was beyond belief.
He held on to his control, trying to make this rapture last as long as possible, secure in the knowledge that she could - and would - go on forever if he wished it.
He finally came, almost collapsing, trying unsuccessfully to fight back tears of joy. Her soft body lay over his back, and he could hear her breathing heavily, feeling each exhalation on the nape of his neck. He was still impaled, stretched by her rigid, unyielding phallus, until she lifted herself off him and withdrew slowly. She covered him with a cashmere throw, and after standing next to him for a moment, went into the bathroom.
