Wet, wet, wet

Wet, wet, wet


The Scene Stealer Dara let out a delighted laugh. "Baby, you look good all wet!" After a long stroll through the farm, the warm morning turning into a hot afternoon, the couple had returned to the ranch, seeking shelter from the blistering sun. Dara had other plans in mind. Turning the hose on her bed partner had been a more suitable solution for cooling down.

Jerry let out a laugh, in spite of the shock of the ice cold water spraying his upper body. "My dear girl, you've made a serious mistake challenging a Jacks to a water fight," he growled out, his eyes locking onto her playfully.

Dara stuck out her tongue. "Can't catch me!" she sassed. As his gaze bore into her like a predator watching his prey, Dara was nearly reduced to a puddle, feeling the sweat trickle down her back, this time the immense heat coming from within her. "You'd better be a good runner," Jerry warned and with that began the loudest, wildest and most fun water fight either had participated in. Finally, Jerry had cornered Dara near the barn with the trusty hose, ready to fire. Completely drenched and having more than once found themselves wrestling around on the ground, both were ready to quit the game and move onto more amorous ventures, but Jerry wanted once last chance at dousing her as she had done to him. Admitting defeat, Dara dropped her bucket and held up her hands. "Truce?" Jerry laughed, waltzing towards, her, hose still in hand. Pulling her to him, his arm wrapped around her waist firmly. "Looks like I won," he murmured, nuzzling her. Wrapping her arms about his neck, Dara demurred, "you won the battle, not the war." Letting her hands trail down his back to rest against his backside, she arched her eyebrows as she bumped up against the bulge in his jeans. Jerry bit his lower lip to stifle the moan.

"Baby, you look good all wet," she repeated, this time, her mouth claiming his in a searing kiss. Jerry dropped the hose, his hands finding their way along the curves of her physique, the wet clothes hinting at what lay beneath. Without another word, he swept her into his arms and headed towards the house. He hadn't wont the battle yet, his revenge would go well into the wee hours of the morning and not until she cried out his name in her native tongue, would he be satisfied.

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