Author's Note: The following is a work of fiction. All participants in sexual activity are over the age of eighteen. This is the third in a five-part series which was originally published in 2022.
The version below was edited in March 2025 to correct some minor errors and issues. I hope you enjoy it!
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MY SWEET SANDY, CHAPTER THREE
by Eosphorus
Sandy and I hit the jackpot.
My parents were invited to join friends in North Carolina for an impromptu weeklong vacation. They left early and I crawled out of bed to say goodbye.
"Be good," Mom said. "No girls."
"Sure."
I watched them pull out the driveway.
No girls, she'd said.
Nothing about forty year old women.
I'd texted Sandy the news the night before. She responded at once. "Pack a bag. And plan out the dinners you're going to make me."
Sandy's daughter returned from Michigan in two weeks, so this would be our last opportunity to enjoy extended time alone together. Since I didn't have to concoct excuses for my parents, I'd stay with her all week.
My older brother worked for Dad's firm but still lived at home so he'd keep an eye on the house. He wasn't disappointed when I told him I'd also be gone. Neither was his girlfriend, I'm sure.
Sandy had coffee and blueberry muffins waiting at her place. She stood by the sink doing dishes wearing white capris and a blue and white floral top. The capris showed off her ass and delightful thighs. Her top highlighted her other assets with class and elegance.
The sight of her ass in the capris evoked pleasant recollections from a few nights ago. A vivid image filled my mind of Sandy naked and on her hands and knees. Her glorious ass thrust upwards as I fucked her. Her incoherent moans as she came. My cock throbbing inside her.
I kissed her. "You look gorgeous, if I do say so. I take it you're not working in the shop today?"
"Manuel can't make it. My friend Rachel and I are going to hit a spa, then lunch and some shopping."
"Do you still have time for coffee?"
"Of course. Sit down."
We drank coffee and talked while we ate the blueberry muffins. It was unrushed, no Manuel about to pull into the driveway and interrupt our time together.
"You don't have any deliveries today," Sandy said. "Maybe it'll be a good day to paint the barn."
It was a daunting task. She'd already purchased the five gallon bucket of bright red paint and dug out a paint sprayer from the shed.
"I don't know how to use one of those," I'd said.
"Then you'll need to learn. I'm sure you'll figure it out."
I did some research online over the next few days and felt confident enough to try. Of course, it was the hottest day of the year, humid and ninety degrees by ten in the morning. I'd rather work on something out of the sweltering heat, but Sandy was insistent.
The barn was a dreary brown with green trim. I don't know what whoever picked those colors was thinking. Some things should conform to expectations. A barn should be bright red with white trim whenever possible.
Taping off the molding took an hour, the sun beating down the whole time. The sprayer, once I got it working, was like magic. I finished by mid-afternoon, astounded at my progress.
I was shocked I'd managed it so ably. If I wasn't trying to choose between being a chef or an accountant, I might've considered a career in barn painting. Who knew?
I spent the next two hours painting the trim bright white, transforming it all into the American classic it was meant to be. The last corner was almost done when someone nuzzled my shoulder.
It was Galahad, inspecting my work. Sandy left the dutch doors into the stalls open in anticipation of the day's heat, fans turned on high in the barn to keep the horses cool but allowing them to go outside if they wished. Galahad had been chilling in his stall all day, enjoying the breeze and eating hay. He emerged periodically and watched me work before retreating back inside.
"What do you think, Galahad?" I asked. "Your home looks pretty sharp, huh?"
He didn't answer me. He just stared at the barn for a moment before returning to his stall.
I showered, dressed, and was prepping dinner when I heard Sandy's car. I went out to greet her, waiting for her reaction.
She stopped in her tracks. "The barn. It's so red! I can't believe it only took a day."
"Neither can I."
"Incredible. I knew you could do it, babe."
Sandy reached into her car and pulled out a multitude of shopping bags. "I went a little crazy."
I took a few of the bags and helped carry them inside. "How was the spa?"
"I'm a new woman." Sandy sat on the couch. "And here you were outside in this heat slaving away."
"That's why you're paying me. Now I have to get back to cooking dinner."
"You take such good care of me."
"I like taking good care of you."
After dinner we sat in the living room, drinking glasses of dry white wine. Sandy showed me the new clothes she'd bought. There were tops and pants, a few pairs of shorts, one bright blue dress, and a few pairs of shoes. I also noticed blue denim overalls.
"What are these?" I asked.
"Those? Just an extra pair of overalls."
"When do I get to see you in those?"
"Really?"
"Yeah."
She laughed "The slutty farm girl thing, huh? Okay, I can do that."
"Good."
She got to the last bag and stopped. "You know, I think I'd like to model this one for you."
I raised an eyebrow.
"I'll call you when I'm ready," she said, leaving the room with the bag.
I sipped my wine, imagining what she could be putting on.
"You can come up anytime you're ready," she called from upstairs a few minutes later.
I didn't go charging up. I finished my wine and climbed the steps with deliberate slowness. I wanted her to wait and to wonder, eager for my reaction. To ponder how I'll look at her while she basks in her glorious sexual power.
She was in there now. Waiting for me. Hearing my footsteps on the stairs. Knowing I was on my way.
The door to her room was ajar, a strange shadowy light beyond. I pushed it open and stepped within.
Several lit candles were placed around the edge of the room. As many as a dozen. Sandy had drawn the curtains and the candles were the only source of illumination in the room. They bathed Sandy in their flickering light.
Sandy stood by the bed, one hand on a thrust-out hip. Her hair was down and fell over part of her face.
It was the new nightie which drew my attention, though, light blue and made of see-through lace. A matching pair of panties was visible underneath. The delightful outline of her tits could also be seen through the translucent fabric.
On her face was an expression of feigned aloofness. She looked away, posing herself artfully.
In a playful mood, are we? Okay. I approached, meeting her silence with my own. The candlelight shimmered across her, shadow and light dancing. It was rhythmic, almost hypnotic.
I placed a finger under her chin and turned her face to mine. She kept up the pretended indifference, but only barely. The corners of her mouth quivered as she tried to suppress a grin. It was cute as hell.
I motioned for her to turn around and she did so, first stretching her arms up towards the ceiling. She inhaled deeply, her breasts rising as she turned and rocked her hips back and forth.
Sandy glanced over her shoulder and licked her lips. She opened her mouth, ever so slightly, but plenty to draw me in. I stepped closer and she shifted her body towards me, her wet lips reflecting in the candlelight. I inched nearer, still not touching her but close. So close.
We stared into each other's eyes. Sandy slid her tongue across her lower lip, tracing her tongue along its edge with tortuous leisure. Unhurried, she licked her top lip again. Both lips glistened, her tongue still moving around them in the fluttering light of the candles. She bit her lower lip.
It was too much. I've never longed to kiss a mouth more, and I did. It was like a dam burst, how we went from teasing each with our silent proximity to falling into a frenzied embrace.
Our mouths were locked, lips and tongues engaged in a frantic dance. Sandy's hands explored my body, pushing my shirt up and over my head followed by my shorts.
I was down to my boxers but Sandy wasn't satisfied. She yanked my boxers down to my knees and over my calves. I stepped out of them and she grabbed my cock, stroking it.
Sandy's hands ran up my arms and across my chest. They roamed up to my shoulders and neck. I could tell she took pleasure in my body, in feeling my lean musculature. It made me feel sexy as hell.
She drew closer, kissing my neck and then my mouth. Our tongues twirled and we pulled each other tight. Our hands criss-crossed each other's bodies, exploring freely as our groins pushed against each other grinding in rhythm. The tip of my cock rubbed against her pubic patch.
I needed her naked. I wanted the feel of her bare skin against mine. Nothing between us. No barriers.
I pushed her panties halfway down, reaching inside and squeezing her ass cheeks. I pushed them down further and she wiggled out of them.
Next went the nightie, quickly casting it aside. Sandy was naked at last.
We resumed kissing, mouths locked, arms around one another, and candlelight glimmering over our nude forms. We melted into each other, moaning as we made out. We were two animals desperate to mate, to possess each other. To merge.
Sandy kissed my neck and bit my earlobe. Waves of ecstasy radiated outward, across my torso, growing in intensity as she nibbled.
She kissed me again and whispered in my ear. "Time to suck your cock."
Sandy dropped to her knees and jerked my cock a few times, pointing it upwards and licking down its entire length. I let out a contented moan as she took me into her mouth. She sucked me hard and rough, her teeth scraping the underside of my dick.
I thrust my hips towards her face in time with her sucking, one of her hands grasping the base of my shaft and the other massaging my balls.
I could've exploded in her mouth given another minute, but Sandy was adept at sensing when I was ready to come and at slowing me down. "You want to come, don't you?"
"Hell yes."
