His Coop, My Desire

The scent of sawdust and pine hung heavy in the air, a familiar comfort to me. My new sundress, a slash of crimson silk against my tanned skin, felt deliciously provocative, a deliberate invitation. It was a short number, the V-neck plunging low, and the skirt flowed around me like liquid fire, hinting at the curves beneath without revealing everything. I didn’t bother with a bra or underwear; the thought of constricting myself felt utterly absurd when the object of my desire was so close. My wedges added a subtle height difference, a playful power dynamic that I enjoyed immensely. I’d chosen this moment to test my plan, to see if I could disrupt his focus, his concentration on the intricate wooden clock he was meticulously assembling.

He was a man of immense strength and quiet intensity, a craftsman who took pride in his work. His hands, rough and calloused from years of shaping wood, possessed a surprising gentleness when he worked with me. He built a chicken coop of the finest quality for me, each piece perfectly fitted, a testament to his dedication. The way he moved in his shop, shirtless, glistening with sweat as he hammered and sawed, was both mesmerizing and a little intimidating. The broadness of his chest, the power in his arms, filled me with a primal desire. It wasn’t just about the physical; it was about the complete, unyielding control he exuded, the feeling of being utterly captivated by his presence.

Today, he was engrossed in another project, a complex music box designed for his daughter. The rhythmic tap of his hammer against the workbench, the focused furrow of his brow, painted a picture of intense concentration. It was precisely this intensity that I craved to break through, to draw him from his work and into my arms. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the risky maneuver.

As I entered his shop, the scent of pine was intensified, mingling with the aroma of oil and metal. He paused his work, his head snapping up as he noticed me. His eyes, the color of rich mahogany, locked onto my dress, and a slow, deliberate smile spread across his face. “Now, don’t you look nice,” he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the air.

“Just nice?” I teased, a playful glint in my eyes. “Thank you. I thought you would enjoy it. Maybe enjoy a little break too?”

“Not right now,” he replied, frustration evident in his tone. “I can’t figure out why this isn’t working. I did all the math. It should fit.”

I could sense his agitation, the frustration that threatened to consume him. Perhaps he needed the release that only I could provide. I moved behind him, gently massaging his tense shoulders, my fingers tracing the ridges of muscle beneath his skin. Then, I leaned forward, pressing my cheek against his neck, lingering on the sensitive pulse point. My fingers then moved down, tracing the line of his jaw, before resting on his earlobe, nibbling lightly. It was as I nibbled on his ear that he began to make that guttural sound, deep in his throat, a sign of mounting arousal.

“Oh, what you do to me, woman,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. “I can’t think when you start pushing my buttons.”

“Well, then, stop thinking and start doing,” I replied, my voice a silken whisper. I shifted my weight, straddling his lap, pulling him closer until our bodies were pressed together. “Preferably, start doing me.”

Without hesitation, he responded, his hands reaching out to explore my body with a possessive hunger. His lips claimed mine in a passionate kiss, and his hands roamed my body with an almost frantic energy. I, in turn, caressed his head, running my fingers through his thick, dark hair, pulling him closer still. As his hands descended, he realized I wasn't wearing a bra or underwear, fueling his desire even further. He slipped the strap of my dress down, exposing my breasts, and then slowly, deliberately, kissed my neck and collarbone, savoring every inch of skin.

The heat built within me, threatening to overwhelm me. My pussy clenched involuntarily as he exposed my breasts, the sight of them, bared and vulnerable, sending shivers down my spine. His touch was firm, demanding, and utterly intoxicating. He slipped a nipple into his mouth, and I nearly lost control. The other hand played with my other breast, my body trembling with anticipation. I ground my pussy against his hard cock, desperate for release. I reached for his belt, carefully undoing it, then proceeded to loosen his jeans, pulling them down to reveal his legs. Finally, I removed his shirt, exposing his hard, sculpted torso and the powerful muscles that rippled beneath his skin. I kissed down his stomach before releasing his cock from his jeans, quickly slipping it into my mouth. The sensation was exquisite, overwhelming, and utterly addictive. I took as much as I could, sucking deeply, reveling in the pleasure that surged through my veins. I cupped his balls with one hand, while using the other to guide his shaft in rhythm with my mouth. I directed his hand to the back of my head, a silent command to grip my hair, to maintain control.

He moaned again, a raw, guttural sound that vibrated through his entire body. I continued to suck, prolonging the pleasure, until he signaled that he was close to reaching his limit. I stopped, savoring the moment, before turning my attention back to his arousal.

I walked over to his workbench, climbing onto it with a graceful ease. Then, I lifted my dress with my legs spread wide, exposing my wet, swollen pussy. “Now it’s my turn,” I declared, my voice dripping with invitation.

“As you wish,” he replied, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. The reference to *The Princess Bride* felt like a private joke, a testament to our shared understanding of each other’s desires.

He stepped behind me, his hands reaching up to grasp my hips as he began to grind into me with a primal intensity. His strong body pressed against mine, the heat radiating from his skin igniting a fire within me. I arched my back, pushing him deeper, feeding his need, while simultaneously succumbing to my own.

His mouth devoured mine, and his hands roamed my body with unrestrained passion. I caressed his head, running my fingers through his hair, lost in the intoxicating sensations. As he reached my breasts, he realized my lack of a bra, further fueling his desire. He slipped the strap of my dress down, exposing my cleavage, and continued his assault with renewed vigor.

As he continued to penetrate me, I felt the familiar building tension, the anticipation of release. It wasn't long before I exploded, a wave of pleasure washing over me as my pussy squeezed his cock. We both moaned, lost in the shared experience, until finally, he told me he was finished.

I slid off the workbench and turned around, approaching him from behind, now at the perfect height thanks to my wedges. “It’s my turn now,” I said, my voice husky with pleasure.

“As you wish,” he responded, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and amusement.

He stepped behind me, lifting my dress over my hips, and once again, the pleasure became overwhelming. His strong cock slid into me, and I was once again lost in ecstasy. “Oh yes,” I sighed, succumbing completely to the moment.

His hands gripped my hips, holding me firm as he pounded into me with relentless force. The heat intensified, blurring my senses, as he pushed me to the brink. "I can't hold it in much longer," he moaned, his voice strained with anticipation.

"Well, then, don't," I panted, arching my back further, encouraging his efforts.

“As…you…wish…” he groaned, the words barely audible above the sounds of our shared pleasure. I felt him fill my pussy, a crescendo of sensation building to an unbearable peak. Then, I exploded, releasing a torrent of ecstasy that left me shaking and breathless. My pussy squeezed his cock, and he moaned again, a deep, primal sound that echoed through the shop.

“You are the best distraction I have ever had,” he said between breaths, his voice still thick with desire.

“You are the best man I could ever have. And I will always need you—even if I’m a strong, independent woman that doesn’t need a man,” I replied, a genuine smile gracing my lips.

We both laughed at our silly joke, the shared experience forging an even deeper connection between us. Looking around at our workshop, now filled with the scent of pine and the lingering heat of our passion, I realized that this wasn't just a fleeting moment of pleasure. It was the beginning of something real, something profound, something that I wouldn't trade for anything.

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