Chapter 19

"Bitch." Cheryl didn't move except to speak. She stared at the cordless phone extension in her hand, now switched off.

"Noun or verb?" I asked, gripping her shoulders and massaging her spine with my thumbs.

She looked over her shoulder at me. "Huh?"

"Was that a descriptive noun, or was it a verb complaining about what she did?" I took the offered phone and shoved it into the charging base on the end table, then resumed working out the muscle kinks she developed while talking to her mother.

"Yeah."

I kissed the back of her neck. "Both. Thought so."

"She was worried that I might be having too much fun."

"Were you?"

She hummed in delight as I dropped a trail of kisses from her head to her shoulders. Then she groaned in frustration as I squirted out of her tunnel with a soft "goop" sound barely audible in the silent room. "I was until you came and went soft. Get that thing hard again and put it back in where I need it."

"Sorry about that."

Her brown hair rippled when shook her head. "She heard you groan and wanted to know why I was watching television instead of working."

"At nine-thirty at night? She doesn't remember a damned thing about horse ranches."

"You aren't hard yet."

I looked down to where my body disappeared under her shapely ass. "Well, it's a little difficult to get it up when you keep reminding me of Mandy. Maybe if you'd concentrate some of your attention on helping me?"

She stood up, turned around to face me with a smirk, and sat on my lap again. She grabbed my face in her hands and gave me the most scorchingly passionate kiss I'd ever had, from her or anyone else. When she finished she reached down, held the hitching post upright, and impaled herself with a low, guttural growl. "That's much better," she sighed as we bottomed out.

Damned sure was.

Cheryl spotted me, slid out of the saddle, and bounced when her feet hit the ground. Still holding Arapaho's reins she brought him with her to the corral fence and bestowed a quick kiss of welcome for my return. "Did you see that?"

"Yeah. Snake's right. You're good. Keith should be able to use you to teach barrel racing if you keep improving at that rate." Cheryl would stay an extra two weeks with Keith and Joyce next summer, working as a ranch hand after her guest visit. They'd agreed to that arrangement at dinner two nights before, after Joyce took command of my kitchen to balance Karma. They had departed that morning, just before I made a run to the feed store.

My lovely niece had stayed behind to give Snake a hand because Toad had called in sick with a summer cold. She preened at the praise. "Papa Keith knows talent when he sees it."

"He's not the only one."

"Oh. Yeah! So does Snake. You're right. He did say I was good, too."

"Exactly. You get back to work while I go unload the truck with Jerry and Shoe."

Cheryl glanced over her shoulder. Snake was on the far side of the corral. "I've got good news," she purred in a soft voice.

I leaned near her ear. "Oh, no! Don't tell me! My vacation week is over and I have to go back to work providing stud service night and day for you? How is that good news?"

Her free hand gently slapped me upside the head. "It's good news for ME!"

"What if I die of exhaustion?"

She kissed me again. "Well, if the summer's not over, then I guess Ricky's dream will come true after all."

Cheryl grabbed Ricky's blanket in each fist and pulled, forcing her elbows down into the mattress while her graceful brown wings and her hairline all rushed toward the bridge of her nose. Her upper lip pulled up to meet them, exposing clenched white teeth. Her eyelids were squeezed together so tightly that I though she'd be seeing stars for hours.

"Oh, GOD!" She dug her heels into Ricky's mattress and pushed her body upward to meet the incoming thrusts. The animal sounds escaping from her throat changed from a high-pitched squeak to a deep growl as she came. Hard.

I'd lost count of the times I'd seen her cum, but none of the others had been as intense as this. She thrashed about on Ricky's bed, losing the grip on the blanket with her right hand. The arm flailed wildly. "Oh, God! Again!" was followed by a repeat performance of the noises as a second wave of pleasure swept her away.

Unable to hold back any longer, I flooded into her. My own release was pretty damned good, too, though Cheryl was too out of it to notice. Fortunately, I noticed for both of us.

She threw her arms around my neck and shoulders and tried to squeeze us into one combined human lump, moaning, "Oh, God, oh, God, oh God," over and over as shudders rippled through both of us.

Eventually we both relaxed. Or collapsed. I dragged my upper body sideways so that she could breathe and buried my face in her neck, kissing it in short staccato bursts. We lay there listening to the raindrops hitting the bunkhouse roof, saying nothing in words, saying everything with cuddles and squeezes. Another "eventually" passed before I could lift my head and look down at the beautiful oval face and its sparkling brown eyes and that fresh-fucked smile of contentment.

"That was some load you shot. It's running down my butt. We're gonna have to wash Ricky's blanket or he'll know what we did on his bed."

I shrugged. "I wasn't planning on shooting a big wad this time, but the longer you kept me going without cumming, the bigger it got."

"Blaming me again, huh?" She kissed me. Soft and gentle and yet simultaneously fiery and passionate. I'd never had a woman like Cheryl before.

"Of course. It's what guys do. You sure had a good time. You don't often have one that big."

Again she smiled like she'd just won Miss Dallas. "Yeah. I was looking at the pictures of Ricky and Penny on the wall there. Got me turned on."

I kissed her cheeks, chin, and lips, then hunched forward to keep from squirting out of her tight little box. I was in no hurry to leave. "Ricky turned you on, did he?"

She thought about that. "No. It was just the idea that I was seeing two other people doing what we were also doing. I wondered if she felt the things I was feeling at the time. If she had as good a time as I was having."

"I see."

"And if he felt what you were feeling."

"No. He was feeling Penny. I was feeling Cheryl."

"There's a difference?"

"Honey, if there wasn't a difference, there wouldn't be swingers."

She thought about that, too. "That actually makes sense. You sure you're Mandy Kuczynski's brother?"

"Nope. I'm Cheryl Kuczynski's uncle."

"Works for me." She sighed. "Well, that's the bunkhouse. It was the last one on the list."

"Took us a while to get here. Maybe because you made such a long list."

"Well, we were gone on the photo safari for a week, too."

"Where you had another list," I said in mock reproach.

"Yeah." She giggled. "I thought the hood of the truck was the best one on that list."

"My favorite was on the blanket beside the campfire under the stars."

She purred at the memory and kissed me. "Yeah. That was special, wasn't it? What was your favorite on this list?"

"In the barn, where we stacked the hay bales so that you could kneel on them and I could stand between them. Holding onto your hips and slamming into you like that was out of this world. I'm glad you thought of it. I never had."

She gave me a smug grin. "Going to try it with Penny or Kelly?"

"Not as long as Niece Cheryl is here. But I'll probably try it again with her."

"You think Niece Cheryl will let you?"

"I'm sure she will, for three reasons. One, she's incredibly sweet. Two, she's accommodating to the needs of others." I pretended to hesitate.

"Uh huh. And what's reason three?"

"She gets very horny and will do almost anything I want if I will get her off."

"That sounds like... SHIT! You fell out again! I didn't tell you to take it out, damn it!"

"Let me rethink that first reason."

She shook her head at me. "Asshole. Come on. Get up. As long as you're not going to let that awesome thing soak in me, we might as well take the blanket back to the house and wash it."

Good plan. Besides, it was Saturday night. There was always the possibility that Ricky had gone partying and would be back to spend the night here.

The rain had turned gentle but steady. It was warmer than usual, even for an early August night. We were halfway back to the house when she turned to me and grabbed a handful of her favorite buckaroo. She grinned up at me as the rainwater splashed and streamed on her face. "You know something, Uncle Randy? Our list left off fucking in the rain."

Cheryl gave me a "What the hell are you talking about?" look, then focused on the large-format color slides on the light box. They were the best of the ones she'd taken on our photo safari. "Well," she said, drumming a pencil on the empty air above one, "I suppose I would choose this one and ... this one. Maybe this one, too."

"Okay. What about that one with the hovering bird?"

"If it was my book? Yeah. I guess so."

I typed notes on the computer and said without looking at her, "I think I finally decided on a name for the book."

"Do I want to know?" she asked dryly.

I turned my head slowly to look at her. "Such cynicism and dubious mistrust in one so young. I don't know what's become of today's youth." I looked at the screen again. "I was thinking about Chromatic Colorado Canyons: Photographs by Randy Long and Cheryl Kuczynski."

After a brief pause, just long enough for her to blink—twice—she squealed like a set of bad brakes.

"If that meets with your approval, of course. I'm open to different names, since it's only partly my book."

"UNCLE RANDY!"

"You don't like it?" I asked as I turned to her in time to see a blur streaking toward my head.

The collision of her teeth damned near chipped mine.

We waved goodbye to Maynard and Molly as they disappeared up the drive to the gate. Cheryl turned to me, squeezed me in her arms, and said, "There's still a couple hours of daylight left. Wanna go skinny dipping?"

"Whatever turns you on."

"YOU turn me on, Uncle Randy."

"So I've noticed. You aren't tired of me yet?"

"Heck no. I've decided to keep you."