He kissed, nipped and bit at your neck, chest and nipples when you rode him, knowing just that was enough to take you sob-moaning over the edge.
The spanking and gripping into handfuls of your ass cheeks as he drilled up into you harder made the sex ruthlessly, unavoidably nastier and louder. Rio liked it that way.
When he was satisfied with how your body responded to his first two areas of focus, Rio brought a hand up to wrap around your thick length of curls and firmly tug your head back.
You felt the pinky of his other hand poke into your asshole tauntingly just as he dully bit into a mouthful of your tit and nipple while keeping up the deep, targeted strokes. Your wail-cry on a particular angling of his contact was what he’d been striving for.
“‘Atta girl,” he growled hot against your chin as you vibrated with complete surrender.
Raylan Givens was old enough to be your dad and not at all your usual type. But neither of those things mattered when he showed up at your door.
You’d never been a woman who needed or wanted a man around constantly. You thrived with plenty of space and time to yourself. So what you and Raylan had — though unconventional — turned out to be just right.
When he did drop in, your door was pulled open as quickly as you could get to it, Raylan smiling that knowing smile on the other side. The electricity between the two of you was palpable. You couldn’t stay away from each other.
Neither of you wanted to talk about what was going on in your day-to-day — as professionals or parents — though you both knew you could lean on one another in that way if needed. Those things weren’t top of mind when Raylan was reaching to pull the scrunchy out of your hair, working his fingertips against your scalp to shake out your tresses before he grabbed you by them, pulling your head back to kiss your neck.
Raylan never delayed in grabbing for your thighs and pulling them up around him to carry you into your bedroom and onto your bed, where he melted your tension away deftly, a bit wildly — precisely still.
He was intuitive enough to sense what you needed to release and strong enough to hold its weight as you shattered against him, claiming it as his finessed strokes hit that spot inside you.
Raylan was wired to give perceptively in that way — something you certainly always needed, but had never found a man to be able to offer before you had the pleasure of him taking care of you. Serving you. Making love to you.
“Let it go,” he would whisper in your ear when he’d brought you to the edge and knew you were primed to surrender completely.
Fucked any and everything that could have been bothering you away with the decisive, gentlemanly, skillful quality of his way, he sure did. Raylan made everything better.
Might do a series of little vignettes like this with Manny Mayans x his lady / you, around the house and such. I think I have officially transitioned to hornier for Manny Mayans than I am for Rio. 😬💦
Thx for reading. ♥️🌹☕️
The first time Manny was called to make a day trip to Santo Padre and back after a long stint at home, he stepped out of he and his wife’s bedroom ready for the day at 8:30 a.m.
The boys didn’t expect him at the Yuma clubhouse until at least three hours later — the times of appointments weren’t so exact in the world of his business endeavors as they were in his wife’s more traditional daytime work schedule.
She was face down atop her yoga mat, which she’d perched on their plush living room rug as she did every morning after returning from dropping Bella off at school and before she got her work-from-home day started.
Manny had seen his wife stretch the same way and caught long glimpses of it hundreds of times since she’d decided it was essential to starting her day on the best note. The number of times he’d witnessed the sight didn’t make it any less rousing for him many years into marriage.
Thank you for enjoying, loving and sharing the first of my fics to receive 200 ❤️s on Tumblr! Much more to come in this vein + series. Read the subsequent two chapters that follow this one on my blog if you haven’t already (or read again!). 😚
He wakes you up with soft kisses on the back of your neck that turn more open when he knows you’re awake, allowing in the wet warmth of his tongue.
The tip of his nose nudges against your ear from behind, a few whisps of your hair tickling it as you brace for the tingle of his breath against your lobe you know is about to come.
“Good morning gorgeous,” he rasps.
He waits a second or two to hear your happy exhale before grinding his hard cock against your tailbone, nuzzling his nose at your shoulder, then biting it.
His hand grabs the side of your asscheek, fingers gripping with just enough firmness to make your heartbeat skip and the familiar, yearning sparks deep inside you catch heat.
“You want it, baby?” Manny reaches around you to run the well-padded tip of his long, handsome pointer finger up the length of your slit.
You arch your back, stretching and preening in his hold.
“You know I do, papi,” your voice makes him dopey with its sweetness as it surrounds him for the first time that day.
You bring a hand down to encourage his further into your folds and a growl rises from Manny’s chest.
“I know you do,” he bites down on your earlobe before turning you around and onto your back.
“And you know Imma need to see your beautiful face while I give it to you.”
You soften at that, adjusting yourself comfortably against the pillows and bending a leg up and open to welcome his promised fucking—which was, as always, sure to be otherworldly in its experience.
Manny smiles in that wild-meets-giddy way he often does in the bedroom and presses against the knee of your bent leg, stretching it farther back, opening you up.
“Your beautiful face and that pretty little pussy.”
Manny fills you deliciously, the angle just right from the first thrust. And he keeps on until you come with a quiver and stifled scream three times before rest of the day begins.
(Thank you to those who have given my page/work a follow. And read and ❤️ed. It means so much to know you enjoy!)
Manny finally arrives to make good on his post-work plans with his wife — but she’s got a little teasing to do first.
(Part 1 of this: Yoga and Coffee on a Quiet Morning w/ Manny • Part 2 of this: On His Way)
Manny got home about 11:30, stepping quietly through the house to ensure Bella stayed asleep for them.
The light glowing onto the wood-floored hallway beneath the door of he and his wife’s bedroom and hint of marijuana smoke he smelled as he approached made his lips curl up in anticipation of the scene that awaited him on the other side.
He slowly shrugged his kutte off, folding and draping it over his forearm before reaching for the doorknob.
The slightest peek at his perfect front teeth couldn’t help but reveal itself when he caught sight of her.
A mint blue silk robe covered her arms and torso, one of his bongs nestled between her strong bare thighs. Her big mane of curls was freshly coiffed, still lightly streaked with subtle summer highlights though it was now deep into fall. Her brows were brushed up bushily, face clean of makeup and dewy from recently moisturizing.
He loved her like this and she knew it.
“Oh you think you funny, huh?” Manny’s strong voice stayed soft.
His wife tried not to smile the same way he was, pushing the joy that teasing her stoic biker husband brought her into a pinched sideways smirk as he stalked closer, setting his kutte down at the foot of the bed.
“You want one?” she lifted up the pipe, keeping her bright eyes on the surprisedly thrown off expression in his own dark, gorgeously set pair.
He ignored the invitation, coming to stand right in front of where she was seated on the bed. His jaw clenched before a low utterance gritted from between his mustached lips.
“I know I told you to be naked.”
His wife glanced up in wide-eyed apology, placing her lips around the bong, lighting it and sucking in the hit she’d set up as she continued to coyly feign a plea of forgiveness. Manny watched her blow the smoke to the side before setting the pipe on her nightstand and raising up on her knees to place her hands on his shoulders.
“I know you did. But I needed a bath after your call got me turned on and then I got myself a little… sticky.”
Manny couldn’t help but offer a bit more generous smile at that. “Mmm…” he nodded once.
His wife ran her fingers down the edge of the robe, opening it slightly when she reached her breast so Manny could see what she’d layered underneath it: a one-piece lace teddy in the same light greenish-blue shade.
“This was hanging in the closet waiting to be put on for this first time and I couldn’t resist,” she said, her lips inches from his, eyes maintaining her innocence.
“Right…” Manny brought a hand up to swipe two fingers inside one of the cups of the lingerie’s bra. “And it had to be a color that makes your skin glow like this, didn’t it?”
His wife giggled playfully in response, her chin lifting slightly and eyes squinting victoriously at how easily she could get him to soften.
Manny didn’t let her gloat for long, ripping the robe down off of her shoulders and inhaling her flowery scent as her small frame shook closer to him with the force of his movement.
“You always gotta look so fuckin sweet,” he growled against her lips.
She drew her hands up his neck and scratched into the short hair at the back of his head, humming softly. She could feel his tempered frustration pulsing just below the surface.
Manny inhaled steadily — bracing them both for what was about to follow — as his fingertips circled the apple of one of her naturally rose-blushed cheeks. The look in his eyes turned from patient to commanding.
“Now, this is the last time I’m gonna tell you, amorcita…”
His touch ran slowly from her face down her chest and stomach, stopping at her lace-covered slit. With a slightly vengeful pursing of his lips, he pulled his hand back to slap directly against her clit.
Manny gives his wife a heads up about what she can expect when he gets home from a long day and night of club business.
(This continues what I started between Manny Mayans and his wife in Yoga and Coffee on a Quiet Morning with Manny ☕️)
“Hey…” Manny’s wife’s relaxed voice came through after a single ring.
“Hey baby, watchu doin?”
He’d just wrapped his final meeting of the night about a project he’d be taking the lead on for the club.
“Just tucked in a bit ago… reading,” she murmured hoarsely.
“Mmm…” she heard come from deep in his throat and across the line, a pang of arousal nudging at her core.
“I’m on my way, baby,” came low and gravely next, then: “Been thinkin about takin you from behind all damn day after you had to do me like that with those yoga pants this morning.”
The image spurred the tightness in her lower belly to grow into a soft ball.
The sound of her nervous laugh was nearly imperceptible, but Manny could hear it. When it came to her, he never missed a single, subtle, absolutely-perfect-to-him detail.
“I’ll be ready for you, M,” she responded softly.
“Yeah? You gettin nice and warmed up?” Manny’s smooth voice asked with pleasure.
“Yes, papi,” she turned over to grab for the toy in her side table drawer and placed it next to her in bed.
“Naked?”
“Por supuesto,” she answered. Manny heard a gentle sucking noise as she brought one of her nipples up to her mouth. “Starting with your little tetas right now.”
“Mm, you’re something else, baby girl.”
The exhale of an assured laugh followed from her end.
“Get here already,” she lilted the command calmly but firmly.
“I love you,” he said clearly and directly before his voice lowered again. “That pussy’s gonna get it.”
Manny treating you right on your birthday (like we know he would every day)
“Happy birthday, honey,” a quiet, low voice entered the space behind the drawn shower curtain that separated you and your warm bathtub from the rest of the bathroom.
You didn’t think he’d be home this early — although the dinner plans he’d set up were just an hour away.
You smirked with a pleased blush as you heard his jean-and-black-hoodie-clad form move closer with purpose.
He pulled back the curtain to reveal a large bouquet of red roses in his right hand.
“Manny…” your eyes turned overwhelmed with emotion. After a beat you looked from the pristine blood red flowers to his fond gaze, holding steady as it waited for yours.
“Happy birthday,” he whispered this time as he leaned in to kiss you.
His kiss was firm and resolute in communicating his deep and passionate feelings for you. Always had been. He was never one to share much by way of how he felt verbally, but his kiss did quite the opposite.
When you finally pulled away, Manny reached up to touch your cheek with his other hand. You noticed in your peripheral vision that he already had a clear glass vase set atop the sink and knew by the time you stepped out of the bath that the bouquet would be picture perfectly arranged in the center for you to enjoy as you got ready.
You smirked slightly again.
“What?” his lowered eyelids teased a mischievous, unapologetic look.
“You’re too much,” you said breathily and bit at your lip.
Manny shook his head, eyes open wider now.
“I could never be too much when you’re everything,” he rasped.
Might do a series of little vignettes like this with Manny Mayans x his lady / you, around the house and such. I think I have officially transitioned to hornier for Manny Mayans than I am for Rio. 😬💦
Thx for reading. ♥️🌹☕️
The first time Manny was called to make a day trip to Santo Padre and back after a long stint at home, he stepped out of he and his wife’s bedroom ready for the day at 8:30 a.m.
The boys didn’t expect him at the Yuma clubhouse until at least three hours later — the times of appointments weren’t so exact in the world of his business endeavors as they were in his wife’s more traditional daytime work schedule.
She was face down atop her yoga mat, which she’d perched on their plush living room rug as she did every morning after returning from dropping Bella off at school and before she got her work-from-home day started.
Manny had seen his wife stretch the same way and caught long glimpses of it hundreds of times since she’d decided it was essential to starting her day on the best note. The number of times he’d witnessed the sight didn’t make it any less rousing for him many years into marriage.
The tight-fitting leggings and sports bras she wore for the practice accentuated the dipping in of her waist, poking out of her ass and thick muscles of her thighs. It was his second-favorite type of his wife’s attire — after the short silk nighties and robes she wore to bed each night.
Catching her in either tapped into something primal for her husband. His eyes glinted with hungry interest immediately every time. It was a feeling that simultaneously combined wanting to protect and nurture her at all costs and also get his hands on her; arms around her; cock buried inside her perfect pussy.
Manny watched his wife deepen her stretch into pigeon pose from his vantage point in their open format kitchen as he poured himself his first cup of coffee. He kept his eyes on the backside of her body as he reached for the coconut creamer that her trendy, sweet taste had gotten him hooked on. As he took a first sip of the hot, creamy liquid, he inhaled its scent with gratitude for quiet moments like this one — when he had her right there next to him.
There was a time when neither of them knew if their story would end up like this — them together. A few times, actually. But something pure, real and right kept drawing them back to one another. When the timing was aligned for their authentic connection to really fruit, damn if it wasn’t the best he’d ever had.
She’d told him it was the same for her.
They both meant it. They were both ready for it. Finally grown — really grown — enough for it. The rest was magnetic, healthy and happy love. Just the type of sex that suited both of their tastes, too.
Manny would never take what he found with her for granted.
His wife looked up at him and smiled, relaxing her face out of its deep focus to take in what his eyes looked like watching her.
Manny smirked, knowing she’d caught him with that glaze of lust formed over his eyes, unable to help it. He let it be what it was and chose not to break the peaceful silence held between them.
As his wife rose and walked over to him, Manny inhaled sharply at the sight of her perky tits positioned high and partially exposed in a low cut navy wrap-around sports bra.
She reached out and took the mug from his hands, stealing a sip of his coffee with eyebrows raised suggestively, no words uttered.
Manny took the mug back when she offered it, then watched her ass as it sashayed away down the hall.
A few minutes later, he found her staring at her topless form in the mirror of their master bath, gently rubbing oils into her face after she’d washed it. Manny wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and smiled as he watched both their nose rings sparkle together in the mirror.
“Glad you got those hips nice and opened up for me,” Manny spoke softly against the side of her temple. “They’re gonna need it for what I got in mind when I get back tonight,” his eyes returned to meet hers in the mirror.
His wife’s lids lowered and lips pursed as her face took on its own hungry-for-him expression that she wasn’t going to try to hide.
She nodded, mental noting for the millionth time how he’d somehow gotten more handsome with age. It was almost too much. She sank back into him, admiring how he brought such comfort, confidence and swagger to the casually buttoned-up look he chose for club business.
“I’ll be back by midnight,” Manny kissed her cheek before pulling away, leaving her to it.
Just before he walked out the door, he reached back to grab her asscheek with an assertive, rocking motion.
“Be naked when I get home.”
“I shouldn’t be later than midnight, baby,” he rasped against her ear, pinching her hips as he pulled away to let her get back to it. “Be naked when I get home.”
When he was arms length away he reached out and grabbed her asscheek with an assertive grip and rocking motion. “Be naked when I get home.”
My EXPLICIT (that’s E-rated) love letter to who Manny Mayans is in my head if they had expanded upon the character in the show. You could definitely replace the wife I wrote for him in with yourself so I guess this is both Manny Mayans x ofc and Manny Mayans x you? 😘
It’s about 1,200 words. Please enjoy.
Among all the things she’d always wanted to be, wife and mother were certainties.
She might have tried to convince herself that those things weren’t as important to her as they were while in other situations with other men, but Manny had only ever asked that she be herself — open and honestly. After much turmoil and pain trying to make pieces fit that just didn’t with others, the deep exhale into unconditional love that came with Manny’s appearance in her life felt like coming home.
He allowed her to be all the things she was and dreamt of being without compromise. A spouse and a parent included — no coaxing or explanation needed. He’d always wanted to be those things, too.
Due to the nature of other things he was, Manny couldn’t always be home with her and Bella. That was perfectly okay, though. One of the other things she happened to be was highly independent.
When Manny was there — at the secluded home they’d purchased together with breathtaking views of sunrise and sunset over the Sonoran Desert — he was present and attentive in yet another way she’d never experienced with any man before him.
Following his most recent return from the road, Bella insisted that the three of them spend two full weekends together doing all the things and going all the places they loved. She was a daddy’s girl through and through, but by the third weekend she was ready to agree to a single night with her grandparents while Mom and Dad enjoyed an evening to themselves. Manny and his wife got a fire going in the backyard and caught up on all that had transpired in their separate but shared adult worlds while they were apart, gazing at the stars and sipping their favorite special occasion wine as they sat close.
Leaning in to nose behind her ear and sniff her hair, Manny placed a soft kiss on his wife’s neck. She felt his breath there when he murmured, “God, I miss this so much when I’m gone.”
Her closed lips turned up in a small smile as she finished a sip of wine, lashes lowering with the contented, flattered giddiness that his deep voice and relaxed confidence still elicited since the first time she’d ever heard it, all those years ago. Her hand moved to gently squeeze his thigh. Manny reached up to nudge her face in his direction, his big brown eyes a mix of sincere, captivated and hungry, like the first time they’d ever met hers.
“I miss your cooking, your voice, the way you keep our space so beautiful…” he smiled observantly in the direction of a throw pillow next to him — one she’d added to their outdoor sofa while he was away, striped with oranges and pinks that perfectly mirrored the colors of the desert sunsets the sky cast before their modern white farmhouse every evening at dusk. Manny was the only man she’d ever been with who noticed those things, too.
He abandoned talk of the pillow to grab for her waist, guiding her to sit up and straddle him. He swept the hair back from her eyes so he could look directly into them again. “…the way you make sure Bella and I have the best fuckin’ life.”
She smiled a little more noticeably then, trying her best not to tear up at the perfect dream of a partner for her that was Manny.
“I miss you so much when I’m gone, baby,” Manny whispered, not breaking eye contact.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, her small French-manicured hands grasping his shoulders.
“I miss you, too…” she batted her eyes open and replied. With a playful smirk she bit her lip, gazing down at him sweetly and added, “… Daddy.”
Manny growled and jerked his hips up ever so slightly at her use of the name — one she’d offered up on her own when they first started getting intimate and he happily accepted.
“Yeah? You missed Daddy?” Manny bit his tongue between his teeth as he reached back to wrap his fist around her hair and yank her head back just an inch so his eyes could see all of her pretty orbs closer up.
“You miss this, too?” his other hand dipped into the crotch of her thin, ribbed lounge pants, pressing the flats of index and middle fingers against her bare slit.
His eyes stayed on hers.
Again she fought the welling of tears, these of a different kind than when he was telling her how much he missed her voice and cooking. Manny could read her need precisely.
“Now that we’re alone you gonna let me hear how much you missed it?” he quickly, deftly pushed two fingers into her already pulsing warm wetness.
His wife let out a loud sob but tried to stifle the second and third of its kind down, despite the fact that their closest neighbors were football fields away.
Manny pressed the heel of his hand down against her clit as he continued to finger fuck her with the full length of his long, perfectly thick fingers.
“Daddy,” she cried out and he pulled her hair harder, moving his mouth to bite at her lower lip.
“That’s it, you gon’ let ‘em know, ‘Daddy’s home,’ for me, okay baby?” his voice got gravely with the dotingly delivered command.
He was teasing her, knowing she was very reserved and well-mannered in her life outside their bedroom. Not a fan of heavy PDA. Classy, if not a little uptight. He also knew that — realistically — no one could hear them. Manny loosened her up while honoring her boundaries.
His wife’s eyes flared with turned-on annoyance at what he was asking her to do. She ground her pelvis and the back of his hand connected to it down against his hard cock and smirked.
Manny tsked as he pushed his hips up slightly to create more friction.
“Ah, ah, ah, none of that until I hear you tell ‘em I’m home, honey. Let ‘em know how well you’re being taken care of,” his hand released her hair to slide down and grab her asscheek, adding just a little more pressure as he dragged her pelvis against his length.
“Daddy,” she wailed out louder like a child who wasn’t going to get her way but was still trying to hold out. Her mouth fell open and Manny leaned his in again to greet it, this time wrapping his lips around her tongue in a gentle suck.
He guided her ass and hips down at just the angle he knew was going to send her over the edge and moved his mouth to bite down on her neck as it hit her.
“Daddy’s home!” she screamed into the starry darkness around them, coming and then shaking with smaller orgasms for a minute or two while Manny helped her let her body down with less intense thrusts of his fingers.
“That’s right, mama. Daddy’s home.” Manny growled into her neck as he removed his hand from inside her pants to grab her other asscheek and carry her inside for the evening.
My latest E-rated Brio fic, also posted on AO3. I’m pretty happy with the way this one turned out. Please let me know what you think of it if you’re so inclined. Take good care!
Characters: Beth x Rio
Summary: Someone’s gotta hold Beth accountable for keeping the late night meetings they both know she’ll need to maintain to keep herself and her constituency happy.
Word Count: 4,008
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: (What I think is pretty freaky?) smut, marijuana use (Beth is more of a weed connoisseur in my fics than you think she would be.)
Beth had just poured herself a glass of Cabernet after returning home from a long and tense city council meeting when she remembered: Rio had texted her just before the meeting and she’d been so caught up on how one of the night’s votes was going to go that she never responded.
She opened her texts and selected his from the few at the top.
Give ‘em hell, sweetheart. he’d written, knowing there was a vote taking place that could benefit their business interests but that the opposition wasn’t going to back down easily.
Thankfully she’d swayed enough of her fellow councilmembers with projected revenues and homemade pastries to ensure that what she and Rio wanted transpired in council chambers on that mildly cool Tuesday night.
I did. she texted back simply and directly from her seat on her couch four hours later.
Good. Rio texted back immediately.
Beth took a long, slow sip of her wine and sat back, wondering where Rio was texting her from. What he might be in the middle of in that moment, at 9 p.m. on a Tuesday night.
She herself was alone, the kids with Dean that week — she’d have them on the weekend and into the following.
It couldn’t have been three minutes later when Beth felt her phone vibrate under her fingers again, signaling Rio wasn’t going to wait on her.
Now on to the next order of business. his subsequent text read.
Beth smiled to herself.
What’s that? she responded quickly, letting Rio know he had her attention.
I need to get my face between your thighs, Elizabeth.
Beth’s breath caught in her throat when she read it, her core tingling with an ache she knew was only going to get worse the longer this texting conversation went on.
Again Rio didn’t wait for her to text back.
Beth’s lips moaned against her glass when she saw what he sent next:
Need my hands on that creamy skin and perfect fat ass, councilwoman.
Yeah… she acknowledged.
You know us public servants have quotas to meet. He teased.
Oh, you do? she quickly fired back.
Yes. he wrote. Mine’s making you come at least two times a week, boss.
Beth let a pleased noise immediately roll up from the back of her throat at that.
She double clicked on his words to love his most recent message.
Again Rio took it right from there to where he wanted it to go next:
So what do you say? Can I come through?
Beth laughed to herself and took a smaller sip of the rich red wine before moving her fingers to quickly text him back.
Mhm. Bring that good weed? she sent first, then fired off another:
And stay long enough to get me off a few times? I need it.
I know you do, mama. I got you.
Two minutes later he added:
Be there in 15.
And though she was still curious about where he was coming from — what the power of their always heated, undeniable connection was pulling him away from — it really didn’t matter. Rio had an allegiance to their fire and was determined to feed the flame.
She’d definitely be letting him manage up when it came to this.
Rio’s teeth pinned down the inside of his bottom lip and he inhaled fully as the G Wagon neared Beth’s neighborhood under the still darkening sky.
He parted his lips to release the charged air from his lungs and pressed a thumb into the volume controls on the steering wheel. When his sound system was at just the permeating but not overpowering volume he wanted, he reached for his phone to select the song he’d found making him think about Elizabeth lately.
A slow tinny, synthetic beat ushered a high pitched melodic male voice onto the track. It started with a chorus about being lonely, hoping he’d hear from her. Wanting and needing her, no games attached.
The beat sped up and became a bit more complex when the voice rapped:
Pullin' up, yeah you know I won't be late
Pussy actin' up yeah you know it's gon' behave
Rio knew the part that painted a picture of Beth in the throws of need for him the most vividly in his mind was a few lines away. And then it hit his ears.
Her pussy get wetter for me for me like it knows my face
She ride it until she cumming make my nose ring break
Said when they hit it, make her feel like she got no spring break
I hit it until the box, without no springs break
And yeah, that was what he did to her. What she made him do, he thought with a frustrated appreciation as he let the song conclude and transition on to another. What he was about to do so much more of.
He and Beth had made do a few times since their reacquaintance with physical intimacy against his grandma’s bookshelf, but never with enough space or time to themselves to take her to her limits.
He needed to hear how beautifully out of control she could cry for him when his tongue and fingers were inside her. Then he needed to hear her cries get even sweeter and more desperate when he stretched, filled and fucked her — hard and relentless — with his cock.
That’s what was on their agenda for the night ahead.
The role of City Councilwoman Boland’s associate required him to define the agendas for their meetings often. She was just so busy. He understood precisely why she trusted him to take the lead when it came to this side of their business. He was the expert when it came to getting her off, after all.
Rio parked a few houses down and pulled out what he needed to roll a few joints per Beth’s request.
That pussy ready, councilwoman? he texted with a smug smile on his face as he finished rolling up the final one.
Rio was securing his gun inside the G Wagon’s dash, poised to grab his stuff and hop out, when his phone vibrated against the center console.
The screen lit up with notice of a text received from E, the digital label he’d settled on for Elizabeth many moons before, but one still fitting of their relationship — private and somehow personal despite so much still unsaid and unknown. About one another. About if they’d be on the same page long enough this time to go any deeper — somehow find more trust, more truth — than all the times before.
Mhm. Beth had texted back coyly.
Rio raised a brow and leaned his body back into his seat, waiting for the three flashing gray dots to appear signaling a follow-up.
I’m out back. she sent seconds before his pent up need for her — open to him completely; unbothered by anything besides his touch; all his — escalated.
When his eyes located her, seated to one side of the patio table’s bench in a red floral silk robe, her firm bare legs crossed tightly and a half-full wine bottle on the table next to her, Rio felt a greedy sound vibrate at the base of his throat.
“Hey now,” he voiced easily, causing her profile to turn and face him.
Beth smiled in a way that instantly told Rio she was tired but happy to see him.
“Hi.” Her teeth shined brightly from behind lipstick- and wine-stained lips, and as Rio came closer, he saw her eye makeup was smudged, too.
He felt his cock throb at the unfairly fuckable look of her appearance.
Rio sat down an arms length away from her — wanting to take this appointment nice and slow — and watched Beth’s manicured fingers (red — of course they had to be a deep, intoxicating red along with all the other swaths of color calling his eyes to them from against her seashell-colored skin) hold up her near-empty glass as she let out a sigh.
Her sigh sounded to him like one she’d been waiting to release until he was in earshot. Like she’d held onto it long enough to give him an accurate estimation of how much tension she was needing to release with his skillful help.
Rio reached for the bottle and refilled her glass. When his black denim jacket-clad forearm neared the table as he set the bottle back down, Beth reached out and wrapped her fingers around it, squeezing and holding it there until he looked up at her.
“Thanks for following up on… this,” she said in a low voice as she gestured into the space between them with the hand that held her wine.
Rio laughed that devilish, cocky, impossible-not-to-drive-her-crazy laugh Beth had come to yearn for.
“Followin’ up on me hittin that pussy right for you, mami?”
He noticed Beth’s thighs clench together more tightly and her eyes widen as she swallowed a gulp of wine and nodded.
Rio laughed again, this time only loud enough for her to hear. He fished one of the joints from his pocket and pressed it between his lips, then moved his hand to grasp her topmost thigh, his eyes willing her to part them for him.
She did.
Rio dipped his hand between them and purred when he found her naked beneath the robe and short nightgown he could see layered below it. He ran a finger up her slit before pressing the flats of two fingers down against her hooded clit, causing Beth to whimper and lightly shake.
“I told you, mamita,” he whispered as he began to add slow, circular motions to his touch. “I got you.”
Rio’s hand retreated from between Beth’s legs after a few more practiced presses on the outside of her clit and a single teasing poke with the tip of his finger into her tight, already sticky wet center. His quickening desire to push two deep inside her and promptly crook them to hear her ladylike moan and enraptured squelch was tempered by willpower when something reminded him: He wanted to take this slow.
Hint of a ruffled pout aside, Beth understood the intention behind Rio’s pull back and slowly recrossed her legs as she straightened her robe on her shoulders to let him know.
Rio’s lips stayed closed around the joint but upturned in just the slightest when his eyes smiled at her appreciatively. They read each other so well.
“Glad to see you’re celebrating. You deserve it.” he praised, the pronunciation of the words bent choppily by his still pinched lips. He pulled a black lighter from his pocket and lit the joint, hands interlacing together on the top of the table as he repositioned his body to face her house.
Beth gazed at Rio’s profile for a beat before returning her bleary eyes to the freshly manicured backyard. He handed her the burning cigarette and she brought it to her faded red lips to inhale before quietly thanking him.
Damn, she really was worn out this week.
“You wanna talk about how it went tonight?” his head turned to look her way again.
“It went…” she stopped as the thin smoke dissipated in front of her face, still staring out onto the lawn. Beth was most wound up from the half hour closed-door part of the meeting Rio was referring to — one spent defending her positions amongst the few stodgy old men who’d long maintained a hold on Detroit’s city politics and did not want her shaking anything up.
“It went how I thought it was going to go.”
Rio nodded with an understanding smile at the relatability of her description.
“How are you?” she quickly followed up, then took a fuller second drag of the joint before she could nervously blurt anything else out. Only hanging there between the two of them would that casual question take on such uncomfortable novelty.
Still, Beth really did want to know.
The breathiness of Rio’s surprised laugh could be heard bouncing off his teeth at the question. His eyes closed, eyelashes resting against the apples of his cheerfully surprised cheeks, before they slowly swept open to regard her again.
“You asking me how I am now, Elizabeth?”
“Yeah,” she said simply without further explanation and passed the marijuana back. The gray blue of her eyes was illuminated with waning visibility by the few lights on in the house as the night turned black.
Rio surrendered easily to his care for Beth, and to how long he’d been waiting to have commonplace conversations like this with her. He was glad he was taking this slow tonight, wondered what other unexpected gifts might come of that approach.
“Been handling our shit,” he smiled before bringing the joint back to his plump, pink lips.
“You really are so great at that,” she flirted with the most lively expression Rio had seen grace her face so far.
“I know,” he smirked, suggestive and sweet.
Comfortable pauses were interspersed between short pieces of what came to be an easy exchange after that. They passed the joint back and fourth, catching each other’s eyes every so often in the quiet moments.
“How’s Marcus?” Beth dared to go deeper once they’d finished the joint.
Previous versions of Rio would have told Beth Marcus was none of her business, or simply denied the response to a question from her on the subject. For a long time, he felt like she didn’t deserve to know. Not after all she’d done.
That mindset had shifted as of late.
“He’s real good,” Rio answered with a flash of his wide, beautiful-toothed smile. “Drivin me crazy askin ten times a day when soccer’s gonna start again…” he laughed with a small shake of his head.
“Oh, Jane, too,” Beth turned so her body was angled toward Rio’s.
As repetitive as Marcus’ questions about it got, Rio really couldn’t wait for the season to start up, either. Not only was it a great outlet for his son’s boundless energy, it also added more appointments to his calendar that included Elizabeth.
Rio placed a hand on Beth’s thigh at the thought.
“You gonna invite me inside, boss?” he squeezed.
Reaching for his hand and moving it back to the top of his own leg, Beth stood up. She grabbed the wine bottle with one hand and ran her palm across the top of Rio’s back with the other as she crossed the lawn behind him.
Her hand grasped his bicep when she’d made her way around him — a brief touch — then she was on her way to the steps leading to her bedroom’s French doors.
“C’mon, you,” her answer made his ears prickle with heat.
Rio watched her ass wiggle as she strode, standing up quickly to follow.
“Whatever you need, councilw—.” He stopped himself, wanting to address who she was completely, not just tease about one interesting dynamic of her currently.
”Whatever you need, Elizabeth.”
“My gosh, I’m so exhausted I forgot the glass,” Beth exhaled sharply as she plopped down onto the ottoman at the foot of her bed, raising the wine bottle she’d purposively carried inside by its neck.
The breath behind Rio’s soft laugh could be heard moving from his nose out of his mouth, his eyes on Beth — already comfortably curled up in her seat below his tall, standing form.
He lowered himself down to sit across from her, leaving his layers of clothing and black and white Jordans in tact.
“Since when you mind your manners with me?” Rio took the bottle from her grip and brought it to his lips to take a throat-warming drink of Beth’s dry red wine of preference.
When he moved the bottle away from his face to pass it back, Beth saw an open, almost cheerful expression behind it, softened with earnestness in the mellow light of her bedroom.
“So I guess we’re going to be seeing more of each other,” Rio stifled the urge to reach out and run his fingers down her cheek, neck, décolletage; across her shoulder to her upper arm — opting to let his eyes roam slowly along that path instead.
“Are we?” Beth’s brow quirked slightly, so tired his simple logic didn’t immediately occur to her.
“Yeah, baby girl,” Rio’s eyes raised to meet hers again, “You finalized your first big contract on behalf of the city today. And your boy here is gonna make sure the job gets done for you.”
Rio’s tongue swiped at his lower lip, then he bit down on it, eyebrows raised.
Of course. she remembered. Damn, his weed was good.
Everything about him was good.
Beth’s round face and dimly sparkling eyes both rolled in playful embarrassment as if to say ‘Duh!’ With one more sip at the wine bottle she emptied it, reaching down to tuck it safely beneath the ottoman.
“Gonna want to be kept updated on my progress, I’d assume?” Rio kept his focus on her face despite the neckline of her nightie pulled lower when she sat back up.
Beth hadn’t thought that far ahead yet, having been focused on getting through that night’s meeting and successfully getting the project approved in the days and weeks leading up. She was in no rush to figure out what came next with accomplishing the specifics of what she’d proposed. Hell, she might take the rest of the week off before she even started considering all that. Maybe Rio would stay in bed with her the whole next day and help her get her vacation started. Then help her start to piece this plan together after their other, more personal quotas had been met.
“Did you want me to stop by your office to check in or just um…” he smirked and glanced at Beth’s neatly made bed, then back at her soft, sleepy bust, oblivious to the separate reverie dancing within her pretty strawberry blonde head.
“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” she broke the physical distance, placing a hand on his knee.
Rio’s smirk lingered on his full lips. “Of course, darlin.” He scooted in an inch closer. “Always happy to brief you in bed the morning after these meetings, too.”
Beth laughed, leaning into his space. “Thank you for your flexibility.”
Rio finally shrugged off his jacket and reached his large palms out to grasp her soft cheeks.
“Now tell me what you need from me tonight, boss.”
Beth let her eyes close and her face melt into Rio’s warm palm, humming comfortably before her lashes batted open and she answered.
“I’ve been thinking about riding your face.”
Rio watched the words fall from her doll-like lips, a growl rising from his diaphragm. “Mmm… you know I been thinkin bout that, too.”
He brought his thumb down to her lips and Beth began to suck at the top of it, pale eyes wide and wondering.
Wondering how he was going to take her further over the edge of that ever-extending cliff tonight, deeper into the depths of what lie between them.
“That what you wanna do right now, Elizabeth? Ride my face?” Rio dropped his moist thumb from her mouth to trace the neckline of her nightie.
Beth paused, considering, her voice and eyes lower when she spoke. She was drained, but she always had energy to play with him. “Is that what your ledgers tell you we’re due for?”
Rio chuckled, beginning to trail his index finger below the silk, down her breastbone, his eyes serene but tempted.
“Whatever you want to get into would help our numbers, darlin, but my analysis says our most advantageous move would be…” he cleared his throat, his hand coming back up and same finger nudging a few faint wisps of hair off of her forehead, “…letting me take care of you and worry about the math later.”
“Please.” Beth brought a hand up to slip her robe off of her shoulders, sucking in her bottom lip. Her hand at his knee inched higher. “Do you what you need to, Rio.”
He nodded, grateful for the surrender of a bit of all that control she clung to so tightly. His fingers ran down her arms and laced both of her hands in his.
“I need you to turn off that beautiful, smart-as-hell brain of yours for me, Elizabeth.”
He watched her register the accolade and breathe in deeply.
“Can you do that?” he rasped with a squeeze at her hand.
She nodded.
“Just let go,” Rio’s deep voice soothed without a scratch, his hands guiding her hips to scoot back onto the bed.
He pushed the bottom of her silk nightie up as his head chased her bare pelvis backward, his tongue and front teeth crashing into her pussy lips when Beth’s back hit the headboard.
“Rio!” she gasped, surprised by how quickly this was moving after he’d paced the preceding 45 minutes so slowly.
Rio flattened his tongue against Beth’s peach pink inner labia as his hands came under her ass to give him better access to her other delicate hole. He spit on his index finger and brought it down to drag it around the rim of her asshole, his mouth returning to suck at her pussy while the tip of his nose nuzzled her clit. Beth felt the stubble on Rio’s cheeks grating the inside of her thighs so hard it started to sting.
Her torso arched up from the bed, drawn out cries unaffected by any sense of politeness, body too worn out to censor itself.
All she wanted was more of the exact same combination of sensations.
His index finger tentatively poking into her tight asshole, the suck of his mouth getting deeper and tighter around her intricate womanhood, pulling back his tongue but leaving the slightest bit of teeth to grazingly bite at her pussy. The hand not fingering her anus came up to press its palm at her clit at just the right angle, then began to rock slowly. All three at once made her insides quake and suddenly there was liquid pouring from her, into his mouth, onto his chin, dripping onto her duvet cover.
“That’s it, you fucking goddess,” Rio growled from below her. “Let your body do what it was made to, baby. Don’t hold back.”
He lapped at her pussy from top to bottom one last time before sitting up, resituating his hands to make her body squirt more cum the way he knew at that point he could.
He slipped two fingers inside of Beth’s wet center and allowed his pinky to begin teasing her asshole. Gently but quickly he began to pick up the pace of his hand, fingering her with model double penetration skills.
She was right, he was an expert at this.
“I’m gonna need you to squirt for me again, baby girl.” Rio’s free hand came up to wrap around her neck.
Beth’s eyes widened, disbelieving she could do that again when she had had no control over the first one.
This was all him, but she knew he knew it.
His fingers pushed deeper, his movement getting faster and harder. Rio raised her mouth to kiss her before dropping her back down onto the bed and pressing at her clit again. He could feel that she was seconds away from another, longer release.
“Let go…” he coached lovingly, darkest brown eyes worshiping her with her nightie up above her navel and her flushed face about to sob the last of the day’s pressure out, too. “Just like that…. Let go… I got you.”
And he did.
He had her.
It was the only thought left in her mind before she convulsed into another heavy spray.
Rio took his fingers out to rub her pussy in wide circles, her juices spraying everywhere. He smiled as if she’d just reached a new height in the expression of her sexuality — such an ideal match for his; dove deeper into the depth of their connection.
Hi! This was written and posted on AO3 about a year ago, but I’ve been wanting to embrace more of my weird and jump into the Brio/Rio fandom as well as a few others here, so I’m reposting this as my intro-to-Tumblr post. Thanks for reading! ♥️
Characters: Beth x Rio
Summary: Rio stops by during an evening of Beth's house-to-herself rituals and makes sure every one is covered.
Word Count: 4,899
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Daddy kink, marijuana use
She did it every night, but it was a lengthier ritual on the nights she had home alone — putting herself to bed.
When she had the kids, it consisted of pulling on a silk nightie; washing her face; sipping a cup of tea while reading or journaling in bed; brushing her teeth; sliding in.
When it was just her, she added a bubble bath with a glass of pinot noir, a face mask, maybe a few hits of a pre-rolled joint in the backyard before or after. On those nights alone, the subjects of her reading and writing often skewed explicit. An orgasm helped lock in the completeness of her relaxation.
What achieved that release never varied all too widely. The only requirement was that he took control.
She liked his hand around her throat. Or pulling insistently at her hair. LOVED to be slapped on the ass. Even more so her cunt. Rio asserting himself and his control of the situation allowed her to get out of her head completely. To let go of every urgent responsibility that’d been layered onto her shoulders that day.
Of course she needed to be fucked with bruising intensity somewhere in there, too. But he’d always get to that, usually a handful of times over.
He did it all so well. Too well, really. Had since that first day she came home to him in her kitchen — his eyes deviously combing up her body, foreboding what was to come over and over again.
Beth stepped out of her bedroom’s French doors and into the tree-lined yard wearing an ankle length blush silk negligee and matching robe, blush fuzzy slippers cradling her crimson toes and fresh joint between her fingertips. Tonight it was a fruity floral indica that paired nicely with the bottle of pinot she’d cracked open a bit earlier.
She wrapped her lips around the brown paper-wrapped flower and inhaled, setting it alight. Sucking the smoke down her throat and into her lungs, she made sure to honor the ritual of it by considering something she wanted to let go of as she held it there. Tonight she decided that should be what everyone else needed from her. Her kids. The PTA. Somehow — after all these years — Dean still, too.
With every inhale, she thought about something different on her to-do list. With every exhale she blew out, she forgot about it. Simply let it fall away just as the burnt ash on the end of the joint slowly did the same.
A thin haze of selfish obstinance crept over Beth’s eyes as she felt the tiredness she often held in her lower back begin to subside. She did her best not to smoke inside the house but something suddenly told her she needed to see how the new red lipstick she’d picked up paired with this nightie and robe immediately.
Beth grabbed the shallow bowl Kenny had made for her in his ceramics class from the patio table and whisked back inside, leaving one door cracked for ventilation. She took a long drag from the joint as she sat down at her vanity, fishing the lipstick from where it sat atop a neat pile of items still needing to be organized among her makeup supplies. Dropping the joint into the bowl and setting it down next to her, Beth grabbed a lipliner with her other hand and quickly outlined her lips, then smeared a generous layer of poppy red lipstick neatly inside of it.
Her face was plump from the steam of her bath, skin glistening with her natural fair glow. She was right, the crimson red of her lips popped brilliantly against the other tones. She instinctively reached for her small pot of blush and gently but deftly patted it into the tops of her cheeks. Touched a hint of bronzer onto her hairline, jawline and against the edge of her blush. Completed the look with liquid liner atop her lashes and a generous coat of mascara.
Beth turned to take another drag of the joint before studying her work when a black-clad arm reached around and pinched it out of her line of sight. She sat up straight and flashed a glance in the mirror, her eyes catching on the red-orange embers glowing at the end of the cigarette as Rio sucked it nonchalantly between the sly, tight line of his lips.
He stared back, taking in her freshly made up face as he finished his long drag. “This why you can’t return my text?” he jutted his chin out in question, halfway holding his breath. A cloud of dense smoke shrouded his face for a moment.
Beth turned around on the bench to face him as Rio returned the joint to its imperfectly shaped bowl of an ash tray. As he stepped back in front of her, she slowly scanned her eyes from his black Converse sneakers, up his long legs in dark jeans, from the hem of the dark blue button up he had on under a black bomber jacket up to the top button of its collar that underlined the head of the bird tattooed on his neck.
“What are you doing here?” she said slowly when her eyes — hazy but still more deceivingly doe-like than ever — met the focused expression locked on her from below his long lashes.
Rio stepped forward, sliding one of his legs in between hers and running a hand down her hair before grabbing her by it and pulling her head back. He peered down at her, eyes soaking in the brightness of her features from closer up.
“Here to help put you to bed.”
She let him hold her there, her lower stomach tingling with the excitement of the unannounced visit and how easily he admitted the reason behind it.
She smiled softly, her voice mirroring a similarly gentle tone as she watched his face. “I’m already halfway through that,” she murmured.
Rio’s hand dropped her hair and slid down her neck, cupping her breast outside of the buttery soft satin.
“I’ll handle the rest.”
Beth laid back against the headboard, Rio having directed her there after taking her hand, standing her up and slowly sliding her robe down off of her shoulders before draping it gently over the bench.
“This is what you texted me about?” Beth looked up at him in disbelief laced with giddiness at having him this close again.
Rio placed a finger against her lips and shushed almost inaudibly in her ear. Brushing his lips down her neck, he sucked gentle kisses at her pulse point, then nibbled his way back up, his stubble following each tender bite with tiny scratches. “Go lay back, yeah?” he breathed a warm breath against her cheek as he turned his head to look back at the bed.
She nodded and slowly stepped past him, Rio quickly turning back to squeeze and caress the curve of her ass before it sauntered out of his reach.
“Good girl,” he growled under his breath.
Beth slid off her slippers and perched herself atop the covers on her side of the bed. One of her nightie’s straps slipped off of her shoulder as she settled in, revealing most of her breast.
Rio watched her in the mirror with a smirk before shifting his gaze to the top of the chest next to Beth’s vanity where her evening self-care items were arranged: the open bottle of pinot and single stemless glass; a peachy pink tin box that had held the joint (and, it appeared by the width, a second as well); body butter; various oils for inhaling and splashing on; her vibrator.
Rio picked up the wine bottle, pouring a generous amount into the glass before handing it to Beth. He returned the bottle to the chest, removing his jacket and shoes and placing them on the bench next to Beth’s robe before picking the bottle up once more.
He rounded Dean's side of the bed and scooted in next to her, close. Extending the bottle, Rio motioned for Beth to cheers it with her glass before he took a long swig. His eyes didn’t leave hers as he set the near-empty bottle on Dean's nightstand. “So you took your bubble bath,” Rio observed, turning into her, sniffing the white flowers and eucalyptus that hung on her skin and in the air from her body butter and the essential oils she’d infused into her bath and doused on afterward.
“Decided on a bottle of red,” he murmured as he ran his fingers lightly down her forearm. “Blazed one up without me…” he chuckled, teasing, then trailed off.
Beth shifted her torso to face him straight on and the strap that had been lingering against her upper arm slid all the way down, her full breast bouncing out softly. “I didn’t ‘blaze’ the whole thing,” she giggled as Rio’s eyes transfixed on her naked breast and immediately covered it possessively with his large palm, as if someone else was around, able to see his creamy white and pinky brown treasure framed perfectly against that blush silk.
He extended his other hand to slip the opposite strap down her shoulder, letting her other gorgeously supple breast out into the mild air of the room — a mix of the chill of the evening outside; the steamy, fragrant post-bath air still hanging in Beth’s bathroom and bedroom; and the faintest hint of marijuana smoke.
“I’ve been wanting to see you, too,” was Beth’s response to his getting her topless and continuing to stare unabashedly at her large tits; one of his many favorite features of her gorgeous body.
She let his hand stay filled with her breast as she unbuttoned his shirt, eyes devouring the tattoos on his neck and arms as they revealed themselves.
Rio stayed silent; watching her study his tattoos and swallow for the hundredth time as if she’d never seen them before. He smiled like it was making him crush harder on her and Beth suddenly felt the need to say more.
“Wanting to smoke with you again…” she flicked her eyes back to his and his smile turned assured.
“I smoked a blunt on the way over here, sweetheart,” he said matter of factly with a hint of disappointment. “Give me a minute on that. But finish yours,” he directed, sliding off the bed to grab the half finished joint and lighter from the vanity.
Rio re-lit it for her, blowing a cloud of smoke out the back door, and handed it to her carefully along with the makeshift ashtray. He stayed where he was perched on his knees in front of her and shimmied the silk fabric of the gown down her body the rest of the way while Beth took a gratifying pull from the short cigarette.
He took three of her red-polished toes into his mouth and sucked obscenely as he gazed up at her, eliciting a “Shit” along with the smoke strewing from her lips. She hadn’t expected when he said he was going to help put her to bed that he had meant this slowly and selfishly.
Rio kissed up her legs and into her freshly groomed, glistening cunt: pink just like the blush silk he had shed from her skin a moment earlier. He sucked into it quickly, going deep and not being shy about his hunger for her before pulling his mouth away and grunt-drawling a pleased and long overdue “Mama” out of his pillowy soft lips. “Why that pussy gotta be so damn pretty?” he nearly boomed out in a shout, but tampered it down before it reached quite that volume, knowing the neighbors had heard them getting into torturous foreplay like this before and not wanting to chance the possibility of anything interrupting them now that they were this close to the bliss of their bodies being connected again.
Her glazed over eyes shined down at him, begging for more. She held the joint between her red lips as she brought a hand up to his neck and pushed her pussy up closer to his mouth. He let her, dropping his face to suck at her wet hot center again. He bit and groaned loudly into it, Beth stifling it from being heard outside with a loud, satisfied sip of her wine. She thumped the glass down on her dresser and bucked her hips up toward his mouth again.
“Asi, mamita,” he deviously encouraged her to continue chasing what he was simultaneously giving and taking away.
Suddenly he stood up and moved away from her, grabbing the vibrator from the top of the chest. She fumed and pouted at his warm touch falling away from her thighs and his mouth no longer capturing her needy cunt.
“May I?” he asked, switching the vibration feature on and changing its levels a few times.
Beth jumped off of the bed to grab it from him and place it back where he’d found it. She reached for his belt then and whined, “I don’t need that when you’re here to take care of me, Daddy.”
It stopped him cold, and then he was moving her hands off of him so he could get his pants and boxer briefs off quicker.
Once he was naked, he grabbed her by her hair again, turning her to face the bed and forcing her forward to climb onto it on her hands and knees before she could so much as glimpse his throbbing erection. She knew it was as handsome as her freshly waxed pussy even without an immediate visual.
“This what you need, ain’t it, mami?” he applied pressure to her hip bone with his other hand, guiding her into position.
Noting with gratification that he’d called her mama in the intonations of his other native tongue two or three times now, Beth confidently arched her back to give him better access to fuck up into her doggy style. His fingers still gripped her tightly by the hair.
“Yes, Daddy.”
He noted that this was the second time she’d called him that since he got there, instantly hardening his already blood-swollen cock.
Rio shifted the hand at her hip to thumb lightly at her clit before dipping the head of his cock into that blush floral paradise where it would always belong.
He pulled her hair tighter and buried his long, thick cock completely inside of her, receiving a loud cry in response. When the blood pounding in his ears subsided, he realized it sounded like actual crying. He pulled her head back and to the side to see her face.
“Elizabeth, are you crying?”
She was.
Before the empathetic part of his brain had a chance to switch on, she was coming hard and relentless on his cock for what felt like a minute or more.
Within seconds, he was right there with her, releasing her hair to plant wet kisses on the back of her flushed neck as he met her body's rhythmic convulsions with those of his own.
“Mi niña tan sucia,” he grunted out with a final pump into her. He cupped her smooth cunt from the outside as he slid out from behind her, pressing firmly against it with the inside of his hand as Beth shivered out the last sparks of the orgasm teasing gently at her clit.
When she’d caught her breath, she turned to face him and a handful of his eucalyptus- and white flower-laced cum dropped out of her onto Rio’s hand, her cunt clenching fitfully with his effect on her one final time. As soon as Beth felt it release, she reached down and cradled his hand in hers, bringing it to her mouth and licking it off. He watched her teary yet still uncannily aroused eyes as she swallowed and could tell by her pleased expression when the thick white cream traveled down her throat. The rest would either nestle itself deep inside her or dry outside on the soft skin of her inner thighs for Rio to lick clean later. She silently hoped for both.
Rio curled up next to her and brushed away the few fine hairs that clung to her face. “You alright, ma?” he asked, face concerned, as he traced the outline of fresh wetness down her face with his thumb, attempting to dry it, make it go away.
She nodded slowly, endearment in her eyes when she sensed his worry. “When you hit that spot, I can’t help it,” she admitted, knowing that the full truth was both this and the way her emotions inevitably swelled in his company. “It just happens. Only ever with you.”
He kissed her forehead and held her close for a long moment. “Don’t ever hold back, darlin,” he soothed.
After a few minutes, Rio stood up momentarily to fish his briefs from the floor as Beth slowly shifted her body back to a comfortable spot against the headboard.
She threw him a concerned look, afraid he might be planning to leave her. He feigned an innocent smirk as if her smeared lipstick and eyeliner had nothing to do with him, grabbing a wipe from the vanity and coming to sit at the edge of the bed next to her. He gently wiped her creamy skin clean as Beth let a grateful, exhausted noise creep out from her throat.
Rio reached to swing her legs over next to him so he could pull the covers down for her to slide her naked body into bed. “How long do we have to ourselves tomorrow?” he kept his voice low.
“He’s bringing the kids back at 4,” she replied with one last cross-faded scan down his tight, tattooed body until his warm-colored skin blurred between her tired eyes. She finally closed them when he pulled the covers up over her arms and kissed her forehead sweetly.
Plenty of hours to give her enough of what she needs to last through the weekend, Rio thought as he cut the lights and slipped under the covers on the other side, facing her and sliding his hands to around her waist before falling asleep with his cheek against her bosom.
The next morning, Beth awoke to coffee on her bedside table, prepared just the way she liked it.
She sat up, stretched, took a tentative sip at the mug. “Mmm, perfect,” she commented to herself as the creamy, toasty hot liquid warmed her chest and made her eyes open a little wider. She glanced back at the table to find what was left of the joint she and Rio had shared the night before and smiled bemusedly at the memory.
Climbing out of bed, Beth kicked on her slippers and strode naked into the en suite to brush her teeth and wash her face. After that, she stood in front of her vanity, slowly inhaling and exhaling a few times. Rio had left her skin largely unscathed the night before, she observed; but she wasn’t sure it would stay that way if they spent any extended amount of time together today.
Her bedroom door was cracked just enough for Beth to hear movement in the kitchen. Not wanting to get anything on her silk, she grabbed for a pair of high-waisted leggings and the heather grey cotton Calvin Klein sports bra she had picked up at Nordstrom the day before along with the lipstick. The lipstick brought me luck, she thought, pulling on the lightweight bra and adjusting her breasts to look ready for where the morning might take her.
Beth’s eye caught her phone on the opposite corner of the chest. She exhaled sharply, shaking her head as if to sober herself fully from the marijuana and red wine she’d indulged in so freely the night before. You could have missed something during all those hours away from your phone, she scolded herself. She grabbed it and flipped it over.
At the top of the series of text preview boxes that bubbled into view was one from Christopher. She’d had his name saved that way in her phone ever since she’d learned that’s what it really was. Since things had gotten more personal between them.
I’m coming by. Need to discuss something with you. was all he had written.
Beth noted the time it had come in: 10:15. She had to have been out in the yard smoking at that time, already too unplugged and unwound to go near her phone. Her eyes narrowed as she surmised the few different things he could have meant by that, but she didn’t have long to muse before Rio popped his head and shoulders through the door.
He was shirtless and impeccably well-rested. Beth felt the familiar pang of heat between her legs immediately upon sight of him. She dropped her phone back down on the chest abruptly and turned around, her Saturday-at-the-house outfit visible to him for the first time.
“Goddamn, Elizabeth,” his eyes scanned her curvy body and cream skin from head to toe. “No wonder I can never quit you.”
Beth pinned her bottom lip with a bashful bite as she briefly got lost in his eyes.“You are gorgeous, Ma,” he willed himself to say seriously and succeeded.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she looked up at his dark eyes with more focus then. They stood there just staring at each other for another beat before she grabbed a small velvet scrunchy from the vanity and tied her strawberry waves up tightly, toeing on her plush slippers and stepping toward him to exit the room.
Rio opened the door the rest of the way to pull her into his bare, chiseled arms, kissing her voraciously.
“Good morning, Elizabeth,” he growled roughly against her collarbone.
“Good morning, Christopher,” she chimed genuinely, always deeply satisfied to have his presence in her personal sanctuary. Enough of it every now and then lingered around the house for weeks afterward, fueling meaningless arguments with Dean and many late nights touching herself to Rio’s masterpiece of a face, sketched into memory behind her eyelids.
Thoroughly distracted by the heavenly pillows of his lips against hers, Beth forgot her itching curiosity about what his text referred to. He took one of her small hands and led it to the waistband of his black jeans. She could instantly feel his erection at her fingertips.
“You hungry?” he asked against her lips. Beth’s nose picked up on what she could have sworn was the scent of cinnamon rolls as she pressed her pelvis up against his and dipped her tongue into his mouth for another long taste. He knew her guilty pleasures too well. All of them, it seemed.
“You made breakfast?” she said, wanting to confirm she wasn’t dreaming this.“
Something like that,” Rio responded with a firm rub at her ass, grabbing one cheek and guiding her to grind up against him even more, her clit feeling the shock of it instantly.
She felt a chuckle course through him before he took her hand and led her into the kitchen.
There, on the island, he’d set out the most lovely spread. Cinnamon rolls, berries, bacon and eggs and mimosas. Her favorite.
“Rio!” Beth exclaimed, humbled by the gesture.
She wasn’t sure what she did to deserve this, but as he handed her a mimosa, she decided to accept it and enjoy the moment with him. Life was short and time with Rio just felt good.
After breakfast, their bodies were craving sunshine and more ganja.
Beth offered to grab the other pre-rolled joint from her stash for them to share, but Rio insisted he had the strain they needed for a morning pick-me-up out in the G Wagon.
He returned to the yard with rolling papers, a stainless steel lighter and some of the highest end flower she had ever seen or smelled, all stashed in a gray Gucci print zippered pouch. When he noticed how impressed Beth seemed with the supplies, he grinned proudly and allowed a somewhat personal admission to fall from his lips.
“Weed’s my first love,” he said. “Weed and pussy,” he huffed out a single laugh after correcting himself and gripped her thigh. The thin material of her leggings ensured that every buzzing atom of his touch transferred to her when he did. Her body trembled as they hit all at once.
“Can I ask you something?” Beth said earnestly, taking the small jar of green flower and a single thin brown rolling paper from him.
“Hmm?” he affirmed he was comfortable with her doing so.
She kissed him softly and then inquired directly into his ear: “How do you still make me feel like this?”
Another single laugh escaped in response from Rio. He sat back so he could look at her from beneath his long lashes. “How’s that, Ma?”
She felt his hand move down between her legs then, and she knew the sensation of his fingers on her clit was about to ignite her whole body again, but he stopped short to let her finish neatly grinding the flower between her small fingers.
“Insatiable. Out of control,” she couldn't help but look desperate for him to crowd all her space and senses again. He gently took the joint wrap from her lap so Beth could more easily drop the leaves she was grinding onto it.
“It’s no wonder to anyone why I can never quit you,” she ended her explanation honestly.
He gave a moment of thought to her talking to other people about their relationship and what they shared in private, but quickly let it go as she sprinkled the last of the flower needed to fill the wrap into it. Rio licked one of the edges of the thin paper and skillfully rolled up the joint. Once he got it lit, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to his with slight force, slowly blowing the smoke between her pinky-red lips.
“You never have to,” he responded seductively after a silent moment as they both settled into their burgeoning high. "And letting go of control once in a while is good for you, Mama."
The richness of his voice deepened as he reached up to tug her hair and flirted, "You know I never mind taking over."
Her eyes flashed with appreciation and desire. He seemed to always know exactly what she needed, exactly how to fulfill her so she could go on with the mundane, repetitive tasks that her average days entailed.
She raised her chin and nodded once when he released her hair to brush gently along the top of her thigh, then closed her eyes as she felt him watch her take a deep breath.
"So… what did you want to discuss last night?” she finally addressed.
With all that had happened since, Rio’d nearly forgotten about his text. “I think we covered it,” he said.
It was her turn to pull her head back and look at him inquisitively.
He shrugged. “I wanted to make sure you’re good," he revealed reluctantly. "That you're taking good care of yourself,” he strengthened his grasp against her thigh but didn't break eye contact, “And that I’m taking care of you, too.”
The flash of surprise that overtook her face was impossible to disguise. Rio did his best to stifle another singularly hesitant laugh.
“Why?” she probed dryly, still stunned.
Rio unhurriedly took a few more hits of the joint and then passed it to Beth before speaking again.
“When you’re good, business runs better,” he said matter of factly, glancing out to the treehouse at the other end of the yard then. “When you’re good, you keep those blue eyes on the prize, Ma.”
What he was saying was not at all what she had expected when she read his text a few hours earlier.
“You listen,” he continued. “You… communicate with me,” Rio ended with that. The expression on his face read about as vulnerable as Beth suddenly felt.
She nodded thoughtfully and took another slow, intentional drag of the joint before asking with genuine curiosity, “So what did you come to make sure I was doing?”
“All the things you are: Your potions and weed and the spells you castin' in there,” he grinned approvingly, nodding his head toward the French doors.
When he returned to her captive gaze, he added, “Me fucking you more often.”
Beth bit her lip and moved her hand to his crotch now, running her small fingers over him lightly through his jeans. “That always seems to help,” she said low. It was taking everything inside of her not to straddle him out there on the backyard steps and keep him pinned under her greedy crotch until she heard Dean pull into the drive.
Her touch woke his entire body up. He pulled her small hand off of him and stood up, offering his.
As soon as she was standing, Rio picked her up and hoisted her legs around his waist. He dipped one hand into the back of her leggings and reached his fingers toward what he quickly realized was her bare pussy. He couldn't knock her for knowing exactly what she needed to take care of herself.
“Yeah, Daddy fucking you's going to be part of all that self-care now, too.”
