Harry on the Prairie

Chapter 17

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Ya'll gonna be so mad...

Love you gobs! xoxo

*****

When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one there to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love

I know you haven't made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong
I've known it from the moment that we met
no doubt in my mind where you belong

-Bob Dylan

*****

FRANKIE:

Harry slides his thumb across my nipple, and I squirm in delight beneath him. His eyes look to my face, and while I blush a thousand shades of red, I do not look away. "Like this," Harry says, giving my nipple a squeeze. "This is only for me." His mouth covers my nipple, sucking it between his lips, never once breaking eye contact. God, his lips feel incredible. I think that I could let him do this all day, I arch my back, pushing my breasts toward his face. Harry tugs at my clothing, revealing my other breast. Then he stops sucking and looks at me expectantly, his lips swollen and hair destroyed from my tugging.

"Say they're only for me," his voice goes through me like a hot knife through butter.

This boy. "Only for you," I say.

"Peach pie too," Harry says, making me laugh.

"Okay, okay. The peach pie too."

*****

HARRY:

I am more excited than a squirrel with a corncob. Not only are we kissin', but she's in my arms and letting me play with her bosoms. They feel so good, I can't even – kinda like pillows, but then also like when I'm kneading bread dough. I love how soft she is, and how hard her nipples get when I suck on 'em. And the noises that she's makin' make me think she's likin' it too.

My cock is so hard it's almost hurtin', and I can feel the seam on my pants starting to split. I'd love to take off the rest of my clothes and push myself balls deep into her softness. But at the same time, I know it's not the right thing to do. Not yet. But that doesn't mean that I'm not gonna try and look at her bosoms tonight for as long as she'll let me.

She's all mine, peach pie too. I can't fully understand my peach pie attraction. I just know it's wet, warm, and sweet on my tongue. The same way I imagine her, um . . . lady parts would be. Dear Lord. What kind of crazy shit am I imagining now? This girl's got me all befuddled like.

I grin real big at her when we reach our peach pie agreement, and then I recommence to suckin' all the tit I can get tonight, trousers be damned. I mash 'em around in my hands this way and that, soft, then a little bit rougher. I tease her nipples with the palm of my hand until she whimpers and pushes 'em up toward my face. I know she wants me to flick my tongue over the tips and suck 'em til they're hard as little rocks. I'm making these "mhmm" sounds the whole time sorta like I do when I'm eatin' fried chicken, only this tastes a million times better.

After a bit, I kiss back up her neck, leaving little licks hither and yon by her ears and such. I eventually return to her mouth, and she's eager for my kisses. God, that makes me feel good. I love the way her hands roam over my body. She touches my face, my shoulders, my arms. Her fingers drag lazy designs across my back, a near tickle but not quite. But my favorite is when she has her hands all wound up in my hair and kinda holds my head close to her. This way I know she wants me kissin', or suckin', or whatever it is I'm doing. It's like she's saying, don't you stop now.

I kiss her some, and then I kiss her some more. When I lie next to her, she tries to cover up her bosoms, but I'm not ready for that yet. I bring my hand to hers, "Don't, Frankie. Lemme feel you just a little bit longer."

She blushes and glances away, and I pull her body into mine as tightly as I can. Her bosoms flatten against my bare chest, and her hard nipples tease my skin.

"Harry?" Frankie asks.

"Hmm?" I hold her real close. I don't want her tryin' to slip away if I loosen up any.

"So we're gonna go to the church picnic then?"

"You said you wanted to go. I reckon I'll have to make the sacrifice." I make a face.

She grins. I kiss her again, my tongue slipping easily between her lips and twirling with hers.

"Harry?" She breathes out between kisses. This girl sure likes to talk.

"Yeah?"

"What were you thinkin' when you saw me that first day at the train station?" Her voice is so low I can barely hear it over the creek trickle.

"I thought you were prettier than a mess of fried catfish." Proud of my answer, I help myself to a second helping of nipple, gently brushin' it with my fingertips.

She blushes and asks me, "You wanna know what I thought about you?"

"Nope." I acted like a jackass that day and I don't want her bringin' it up none. I'd laughed at her then, almost makin' her cry.

"Well, I'm fixin' to tell you anyway," she sucks in a deep breath like she's about to say a whole lot of shit. "I thought 'This is the handsomest boy I've ever laid eyes on. Too bad he's such a jackass.'" Her eyes twinkle and my mouth drops open in surprise.

Frankie thinks I'm the handsomest fella she's ever seen? If I was to strike gold, I don't think I'd ever feel happier then I feel right now. Hell, I'm gonna pretend I didn't even hear that jackass part. "Well, I guess it was just your lucky day." I grin.

Frankie giggles, and I kiss her cheek, then her neck. I've had a handful of tittie this whole time and my boner is still ragin'. "Maybe we should be headin' home, Harry? I wanna try out our swing – don't you?" She starts pulling her clothes together, and I reluctantly release her breast.

I hate to go, but I can tell from the position of the moon that it's at least 1:30 in the morning. "You're probably right," I give in, gawking while Frankie does up the front of her dress. Clumsily I stumble to my feet and extend my hand to help her up.

Frankie's snickers are muffled behind me as I awkwardly walk over to the tree to grab my shirt. I'm practically limpin' cause it feels like I'm trying to smuggle a piece of firewood in the front of my damn britches. I grab my shirt off the branch and whip around real quick.

Frankie's eyes drop to my crotch and her laughing stops right off. She is just starin' at my . . . area, kinda stunned like. "See what you did, Frankie?"

I dunno if this should be embarrassin' or not, but I find it kind of excitin'. Frankie's fingers fumble to fold the blanket without even lookin' at it cause she's too busy eyein' the bulge in my britches. Feelin' a little ornery, I lazily bring my hand up to the button on my britches.

"You wanna see it?"