TDWP: On a Tractor pt. 6

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Withdrawing from the kiss was as much of a surrender as engaging in it, yet they still made the choice and pulled back. Miranda gripped the sides of Andy's blouse and tugged it up. The writer lifted her arms, and it slid over her skin and was gone. Fingers brushed against the lacy white cloth that remained, stroked the peaks that tightened even further.

Andy's hands snapped buttons out of their loops and she tried not to be hasty, because the blouse was worth more than her TV, but it was very hard. Very hard. She hissed in pleasure, when Miranda leaned in and drew her tongue along the column of her neck. Somehow Andy managed the last button, and then they were both working to remove that blouse. It landed on the floor, dropped by Miranda's hand, forgotten.

The younger woman's hands slid up Miranda's back, practically absorbing her skin through the palms. Then she encountered the strap that held the key. Miranda was kissing her again, fiery sweet, lingering touches of the lips and now and then tongue or teeth. The bites were not to wound, but to claim and tug and open.

Not that, at that point, Andy had a problem with opening. She wanted to. She wanted to both lay back and spread her legs or lay down and spread Miranda. It was a dilemma of delicious proportions and she had no idea what they would do, except that she knew they must do more of what they were. The strap finally released and the noise of triumph was only buried because her lips were busy.

Miranda's hands had also been busy and soon they were both divested of impediment from the torso up.

Andy pulled back and looked down. Her voice was as rapturous as her gaze. "I knew they would be. I knew it." Before Miranda could demand clarification, she was refocused. She claimed a coral-pink nipple with her mouth, drew in that tightened point to lave it with tongue and suck. Her tongue traced over the crinkled, tightened lines that she knew had to ache. Her own were certainly in sympathy, only soothed by the pull and tug of Miranda's hand, and even then she knew the need for more.

She loved the way Miranda's skin felt under her hands, smooth and supple. She used fingertips and palms to stroke and caress, following the line of the editor's back and sculpting her waist, sliding her hands up to caress her shoulders. Her fingertips brushed against the back of Miranda's neck, her silky hair. "You feel so good."

She pivoted, bringing Miranda with her to lay her down on the bed. Andy nibbled and kissed and licked the available territory with a tender focus. The other woman refused to be passive, but positioning was sometimes an important detail. She touched where she could reach, reciprocated when the kisses drifted back up.

At some point, when Andy slid up her body again, she grasped the younger woman by the loops in her jeans. "This must come off, Andrea." The words were rough with need.

"Okay." Andy husked. "Okay." She backed off, crouching, reaching for the first button. Miranda's hands were there first.

The older woman's smile was sultry and devastating to what remaining mental faculties Andy still had. "Let me."

Andy's body responded viscerally, immediately. She caught Miranda in a kiss, thrilled as nimble fingers released the clasp. Then pulled back, enough to gaze down. "Far too many accessories, Miranda."

The other woman's chuckle was low and hungry, and she lifted her hips as the younger woman grasped her belt and began undoing it. In short order, Andy's complaint was remedied and then some, as they both were nude before one another. She crouched over the other woman, just gazing, her expression rapt. "Beautiful. So very..."

If Miranda's lips had been free, in the moments after, she might have been able to say something of equal worth, but Andy had them busy. It was glorious distraction, as the younger woman's touch gently spread its way down and down, whispered through soft, trimmed silvered curls and tantalized.

Miranda shifted, opened for her exploration. Andy re-centered herself, one leg between the editor's. They drew closer and they fit. They fit so perfectly, sliding up against one another with an erotic ease. Hips rolled, needing and flexing.

Andy's fingers slipped delicately, danced. Miranda's expression was raw, focused. Needful. It excited her beyond words; as did the editor's similar reciprocation.

Miranda found the younger woman's hidden depth and plunged in, causing Andy to cry out, toss her head back, to buck ferociously. Her smile became ferocious and she pressed, letting palm and thumb slide. Then her smile became a wild grin, as Andy found her, delved and claimed.

They became all touch and motion, breathy sound and pulsing desire. They were caught together in a gathering force, an inevitable transition.

Andy dared, the words spilled out despite herself, "I love you. I love you. Miranda."

The other woman wrapped her free arm around Andy, dragging her close enough to whisper. "Andrea." She might as well have said the words, there was a wealth of adoration in it and it sparked in them, lit the flame that caught them both and lifted them in ecstatic, cascading Eros.

Andy woke up, as she always did, a few minutes before her alarm would ring. It was a deeply ingrained habit, one established before college. She lay nestled against Miranda, feeling not necessarily sleepy, but languid. They had loved each other well and profoundly. Sleep had eventually claimed them, but neither of them would have much of it.

She did not want to get up, did not want to break the delicate magic that seemed to surround them. She wanted to stay by the warmth of Miranda's fire, listen to her heartbeat a little longer, see the rise and fall of her breathing. She knew, however, that if she did, then the alarm, would do the job for her with its shattering noise and either way, they would be brought back to the reality of the day; which was currently at the dark curve of the morning.

She moved very carefully, sliding quietly, as delicately as she knew how. She'd almost made it off the bed, when her hand was grabbed.

"Going somewhere?" The words were a purr, a gratifyingly sensual query which sent shivers of desire through Andy. She realized then, with an almost frightening awareness, she might be sated, but it was not possible for her to get enough of Miranda.

She leaned back, just enough so she could softly kiss her lover, who had turned on her side and opened her eyes. "Hi," Andy whispered.

"Good morning."

"It is," Andy agreed.

"Also early."

"Yes. My alarm is going to go off. I was going to make sure it didn't. I didn't want to wake you."

Miranda stretched and Andy watched, feeling a warm thrill fire through her. "Mm. Well, I probably need to rise, regardless. Many things to do today."

Awareness, or rather, that understanding which she had been putting off, opened. She had not asked, had not wanted to and now realized the necessity; not because she wanted it to pass, but she wanted to be able to count - the hours, the minutes... she needed to treasure them, hoard them. If she could. "Can you stay the weekend?" That wasn't what she was going to ask, but the words were out. It was too early in the morning.

Miranda sat up and the sheet slid down, revealing. She leaned forward and cupped her lover's face. "Today. Tomorrow. But then I must go home."

"Yeah." It was a husky, aching whisper. "I know." She leaned into the touch anyhow, and closed her eyes, unwilling to let Miranda see more.


Andy straightened, withdrawing only so she could cross the small distance and kiss her lover. "I know," she said more firmly, still gently. "It's okay. It will be."

"Will it?"

"Yes." Andy put forth all the conviction she could muster. She even managed a smile that wasn't too compressed or even bore false witness. "I made the choice."

Miranda offered a breathy laugh. "Yes. As did I. Even knowing."

"Especially knowing." Andy exhaled. Then grinned, feeling an inexpressible warmth, "So then, you'd be okay if I visited you."


"Well, as often as possible; eventually for as long as possible." To the point where it no longer counted as visits. "I'll have to have someone watch the place, for weekend visits, and get a place built so I can lure someone to manage the property for me while I'm gone for longer ones. They can't have my house. I happen to really like it."

"As do I. Though I am surprised to be saying that about any place in Ohio. I suppose I may have to come back now and then."

"Well, we are a surprising people. They like you."

"They haven't seen my work face yet."

"So, wear the family one around them and the work face around work. Treat them with respect and they'll back that and you'll reap untold benefits. Just remember that steak." Miranda's expression revealed deep pleasure in the memory, which caused her lover to smile. Then Andy retrieved the thread, "Pick a weekend in the winter. That will guarantee quality time when we get snowed in. We have some great blizzards. I have back up power and two fireplaces. We can stay extra warm by staying in bed."

"I've noticed. The same might be said of New York. I have one fireplace, as you may recall. However, they scrape our roads. I am sure the same can not be said about here."

"That's why skiis were invented."

"We could go to Colorado for that."

"Could be fun. Yes. But I always have the tractor." Andy's eyes gleamed. She had to remind herself that it was too soon for her to propose.

"You make that tractor look good. Where do you plan on staying, when you visit, Andrea?"

"I love when you say my name." Her expression turned impish, "I was thinking those posh streets, but if that won't do, I'll slum at a hotel. Or stay with someone"

"Someone. I suppose you expect me to support this whole visiting thing, as if I didn't have anything better to do?"

"I take it you don't have a guest room?"

"I have plenty of guest rooms. At least two. But you won't be staying in either of those. Those are for guests."

"Well, since you put it that way, I guess I'll just have to make do somehow. Do you have a couch? One that's soft, I hope."

"Andrea, this is a ridiculous conversation to be having before coffee."

"I can't argue that."

"The discussion of where you will stay is making me feel petulant."

"Only because you and I both know we want more, but it's too soon to say anything, really. And then there are the girls to consider and my farm and sundry responsibilities and issues like famousness and magazines. Details, I know. But... so much easier to talk visiting when all I want to do is love you and be near you. For as long as you will let me. Forever would be nice."

"I love you, Andrea." This time it was Miranda who kissed her, and the sparks lingered and refused to fade; even when the alarm went off and the sun rose.

Several months later...

Miranda watched as her lover flitted about their bedroom in the townhouse, dressing. Nervous energy lent speed, but did away with some grace. "You've been to these things before. It's hardly the first time."

"I've been, but never with you. Or rather, not as your partner." Andy paused the flurry and straightened. A grin crossed her face. "I love saying that."

"I enjoy hearing it. When you are done tearing through the room, would you mind joining me?"

The brunette lifted a high heeled shoe and pointed at her lover. "I will be right with you."

Moments later Andy stood in front of the other woman, tall and bright, "Hi."

Miranda dispensed with an unnecessary greeting by touching her lips, barely, to Andy's, leaving no smudge at all. "Open this." She handed the younger woman an unadorned white board box.

Andy glanced at it, then with careful motions, lifted the lid. A slow, radiant and amused smile grew into being. "Miranda," she exhaled. "It's genius."

"I know." The editor gently lifted the gold jewelry off its pillow. It was small, but not unnoticeable. The blue topaz sparkled as much as the gold. Gentle hands affixed the jewelry to Andy's gown, in just the right place.

Andy caressed it with her fingertips, and then caressed Miranda. "Thank you."

Miranda smiled and touched the adornment, a tiny impression of a John Deere tractor, her expression warm and affectionate, "You do make them look good."



She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy - Kenny Chesney


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