Mad

From the beachhouse balcony, Pamela could see everything that lay on her property's perimeter. Especially her beloved garden in the corner of her eye in the distance, something she had dreamt of for decades to have her own. Pamela slowly trotted down her beachhouse steps, admiring her little life. Still waves hitting the shore of rocks, greenery growing rapidly around her property as far as the eye can see. Pamela’s enclosed garden grew closer on the horizon. She hired a gardener 6 months back, and they grew close and fond of each other. Mace was digging new holes to plot this year's latest crop of vegetables. The bright sun beaded down on her bare shoulders. Pamela watched intently, weaving her fingers along the wired fence. Pamela’s eye was glued to the way Mace’s body moved as she dug another hole. Her biceps flexed as her wrist turned the shovel. Mace’s tits bounced in her plain white tank top as she stood up, turning to the wheelbarrow. She’d never admit she watches them, but they’re so obvious. Mace dug her boots in the soil as she jumped back. 

“Jesus, Pam! I’m getting you a bell for Christmas.” She laughed, holding her chest. “Aw, I’m sorry, honey-bunny, you were deep in work, huh?”

“Of course,” She breathed out, wiping a drop of sweat from her forehead. “Maybe if someone got down on her knees and helped me for a bit, I wouldn’t be so focused.” Mace joked, adjusting her belt. Mace was obviously butch, from the way she presented herself in fashion, and the way she stood in front of Pamela. Her dark-wash jeans were covered in fresh soil, and Mace’s white tank top, once tucked in her jeans, crawled up her stomach. “Haha! You’d love that, wouldn’t you, on my knees? I was busy this morning, but I can help now.” Pamela grabbed her gardening gloves from the wheelbarrow standing beside Mace. 

“Whoa there, I never thought it like that, but if you’re offering.” 

“Haha, shut up. You couldn’t handle me, Macey.” Pamela knelt and began digging a hole. Mace rolled her eyes and handed Pam seedlings. “Darlin’, I could handle you if you let me.” Pamela looked up at Mace in surprise. It wasn’t uncommon for Mace to make perverted jokes; Pamela was used to it. She found them funny and liked how comfortable Mace was around her. “Mace, sometimes I have no clue if you’re joking or not.” Pamela got up from the soil so Mace could fill the holes. Mace cracked a cocky smile, something Pamela’s very aware of from spending so much time with her. “Because you never take me seriously, Pammy.” They chuckled together, growing silent between them as they moved to another project. Deeper into the garden. 

An hour or two later, Pam and Mace surrounded themselves in the center of the garden. Enclosed off from the outside world in their own little peace. Pamela’s peace, Mace nurtures it. Cares for it as deeply as she does. Not because she’s a good gardener like Pamela, but it means everything to Pam. Not once would Mace like to hinder the happiness she had built. 

Mace panted, getting off the ground, feeling lightheaded as usual. Not because something was wrong with Mace, she had a bad habit of forgetting to eat throughout the day. She inhaled deeply, trying to make it stop. A low growl escaped her stomach, echoing through the trees. “Hungry aren’t you?” Pamela took off her gloves, shaking the dirt off. She peeled off her grey sweater, revealing a white spaghetti-strapped tank top and light linen pants. “No, why’d you ask?” Mace blinked hard, leaning next to a gate covered in vines.  

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Mace. You’re sweating more and look pale. I know for a fact you got dizzy again. When did you eat last?” Pamela accompanied Mace beside the gate as her hand reached out to squeeze Mace's bicep. Pamela saw Mace as her own person, of course, even if the media didn’t see it that way. See, Mace drew media attention on one of the outings she and Pamela had. Paparazzi and fans speculate that Pamela found someone who resembles a certain famous tatted-up ex-husband, but Pamela knew Mace and her ex were different people. Behind Mack’s dark hair and tattoos was someone completely different. She’s softer, gentler and wiser than her ex. Mack’s young, but she has a good head on her shoulders. It was screwed on right, for the most part. 

“Shit, I dunno, Pam. Maybe last night at dinner before we went to bed.” Mack fluffed her hair away from her forehead. Pamela found it cute or sexy. She couldn’t tell. Pamela was on the fence about her feelings toward Mace. She couldn’t tell if she actually liked Mace romantically or if it was just a feeling of proximity. Constantly around Mace, that is. Recently, she’s tested the waters to see how Mace responds. “Jesus Christ, Mace!” Pamela patted dirt off her linen dress before swatting Mace’s arm. “It’s almost dinner time as it is!” 

“Maybe you need to entice me with supper.” 

“Entice you? I’m scared to ask how.” Pamela’s cheeks flushed as she brushed her knee against the lump in Mace’s jeans. Thinking nothing of it, space in her baggy jeans. Mace always bought a size too big. Until this time, when there was something hard that greeted her knee. Pamela wanted to feel again, just to check she wasn’t going crazy. Pamela raised her knee again as Mace caught it. 

“What? Nervous twitch, or are you trying to win me over? Cause you already won.” Mace’s hand tightly gripped Pamela’s thigh, making her crotch slam into the lump in her jeans. Pamela winced, feeling the lump wasn’t empty. It was hard, but once Pamela relaxed against Mace, the blow softened. “Curious, actually, I know you buy men's jeans and well–...they’re always big in the zipper area. Looks like you're always rockin’ a boner, haha!” 

“Always got one around you, I suppose,” Mace joked, staring up in the trees watching a few loose leaves fall. “Smartass! Literally, what’s going on with the jeans?” 

“You wanna entice me, right? Entice this.” Mack adjusted her belt buckle before unzipping her jeans, letting a very realistic cock slip out of her denim. If Pamela didn’t know better, she’d think it was real and not a dildo. “Oh, my god. Macey.” 

“What? I felt like wearing it. The harness is new.” Mace’s smile grew ear to ear at Pamela’s reaction. From shock to pure intrigue. “Oh? And what, you thought if you broke it in, you’d get lucky?” 

“Pam, you know me by now. What do you think?” 

“I shouldn’t be surprised at this point, you want that broke in, right? And I want you to eat. Let me entice you then, huh?” Pamela moved softly, standing in front of Mace, her pinkie grazes the toy's shaft. Pam looked around, in fear that someone might be there. However deep they were in the garden, Pamela was still paranoid. She dipped down, landing on her knees in the soft soil. Her Persian roses hit her body as she fell. Pamela locked eyes with Mace. For only a millisecond, they both stared at each other in adoration. Pamela’s lips parted, letting Mace’s cock slide in her mouth. Taking the realistic dildo fully, its rubber skin moves back as her tongue runs up the shaft. Disappearing at the base. Mace’s hands involuntarily reached out to Pamela’s head, stroking each strand of her hair. Watching Pamela’s eyes lock with Mace's made every part of her body heaten, especially heating her lower body. 

Pamela gagged sloppily, slipping Mace’s dildo out of her mouth. Drool pooled out the corner of her mouth. “Oh, Mace, this feels so real. You sure you haven’t been hiding anything important from me?” Pamela remained on her knees, flicking Mace’s dildo. As it bounced up and down, Mace chuckled, swiping her thumb across Pamela’s lower lip. Her thumb was coated in spit. “It’s as real as you imagine it is, darlin’.” Her thumb never left Pamela’s lower lip, slowly tapping the tip of her thumb. Pamela knew what Mace wanted. Mace always gushed over how soft Pamela’s lips were and how naturally glossy they were. Claiming she never needed lip balm, but Pam insisted. Pamela cocked her head down, letting Mace’s thumb slip past her lips in her mouth. Mace groaned, feeling Pam’s warm mouth suck on her thumb. Sucking the same way she once did on Mace’s cock. Mace almost lost it, finally feeling Pamela’s motions.

“You like this better, don’t you?” Pamela licked the tip of Mace’s thumb. “You know what would be better, darlin’?” Pamela’s chuckle was short and sweet. “I have a few ideas.” She hummed. Lifting herself off the soil to pull her plain linen pants down past her ankles. Revealing a cotton white thong. “Better?” Pamela smiled, spinning around to show off her ass. “Very much so, though, I have a better idea.” Mace’s hand pulled the thong down, snapping it back under Pamela’s ass. “Mace!” Pamela giggled as she arched a brow. “Well, let’s see if it feels real in other places, huh?” Pamela flicked her finger to make Mace follow behind her.

Mace followed as they took a step or two before turning towards the gazebo in the heart of the garden. It wasn’t much. Pamela had a metal table and chairs made of the same iron, but recently, Mace built a little two-seat sofa made of old pallets. It was modest, but Pamela helped with the upholstery. Pamela peered around her surroundings slightly before prompting herself on the sofa. Pamela was a sweet-natured woman, of course, but it meant people thought she turned into a prude. As if everything she said or did in the 90s and 2000s wasn’t true or just a character she created. She may act like an angel in public now, but behind closed doors, she hasn’t changed a bit. Pamela would only let certain people see this side of her if she fully trusted them. 

With that thought, Mace towered over Pamela as she got comfortable on the sofa. Mace peered down, observing how the sun hit Pam’s bare shoulders so softly; the gazebo gave shade, hiding Pamela’s freckled cheeks. Pamela leaned back on the sofa as the sun travelled past her shoulders and illuminated her breasts. Every inch of her skin looked soft under Mace’s touch. She didn’t know where to start. 

“You gonna keep staring, or are we going to finish what you started?” Pamela looked up at Mace through her brows, raising her knee close to her torso, planting her foot on the sofa seat. Her little landing strip of hair peaked out as her hips shifted. Mace’s secret obsession was bushes, Pamela knew, but had some restraint. She wasn’t ready to go full out. Even though it would make Mace the happiest and horniest butch in the world. Mace’s smile grew as her hand raised to her mouth, spitting on her index and middle fingers. Dropping her hand to her strapon, coating her mostly wet dildo. “Oh, we’re gonna finish, that’s for sure.” Mace’s hands on Pamela’s thighs, keeping them off the sofa. Mace arched her hips slightly as the tip of her dildo grazed her lips. Mace’s hand dipped, holding the dildo's shaft pointedly as it slowly stretched Pam’s pussy open. Pam let out a small gasp as she cooed out a breath. 

“Oh-...that’s it y-you’re-…good job.” She blew out another breath as her manicured nails pressed into Mace’s biceps. Mace slowly continued as her dildo fully disappeared, only letting the dildo’s ball press against Pam’s ass. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes, keep going.” Pamela’s thumbs circled Mace’s biceps. Mace moved her hips back as her dildo, before it fully slipped out, Mace rocked her hips forward, less soft than before. Beginning to thrust back and forth. Pam’s cheeks heated under Mace’s body. Her soft breaths became harder to silence.

“Aw, shit! M-Mace.” 

“Uh huh.” Mace concentrated as she gained her rhythm. “Real enough for you huh?” Mace panted. “You like my cock?” 

“F-fuck yea…” She whined, locking her eyes with Mace’s. “It is your cock…oh god.” Mace silenced a laugh under Pam’s reaction as she increased her thrusts. The sounds between them grew louder. Pam’s wet pussy began to soak the fabric of the sofa. Pam’s grip on Mace’s shoulders tightened. Mace leaned forward, making the pair turn slightly, allowing Pam to get on her back. Mace increased her thrust vividly, as Pam held her thigh close. Every muscle in Mace’s body flexed over Pam’s, as Pam’s jiggled under Mace’s in the same motion. 

“Remember, it’s mine. My cock.” Mace gritted; she didn’t want it to come out as a growl, but it did in the moment. Her concentration was on other matters at hand. 

“I-fuck…yes, I know!” Pam whimpered as the sun cascaded along her blonde hair as her head moved. Her moans evolved to screams. Mace almost stopped to make sure she’s alright, but Pam moved quick, wrapping her calves around Mace’s waist, holding a tight grip, keeping her in place. “Don’t! Don’t stop!” 

Mace nodded in reply as her free hand crept past Pam’s hip to her neglected clit, already throbbing from the friction of Mace’s harness. Mace’s index and middle fingers brushed her clit. Pam jumped, her back arched forward, making both hers and Mace’s heads smack together. The pain was momentarily as Mace landed on her back against the sofa. Pamela leaped on top as her hand forcefully grasped Mace’s hand. 

“Don't stop, don’t you dare! Keep rubbing my-...my!” Pam continued riding Mace’s cock. Mace enjoyed the view better than before, not because Pam’s tits were eye level, but also because she loved seeing Pam come undone by this. She and Pam share the burden of overthinking, so seeing Pam not thinking too hard about what she is doing always made her smile. She wasn’t overthinking in the moment; all she was thinking about was her own pleasure. It wasn’t hard with Mace there. Her pleasure was Mace’s top priority. 

“As you wish, Pammy.” Mace continued her strokes, Pam’s grip tightened. It felt like her heart pumped in her hand. “Fuck! M-Mace! I’m…cumming!” She inhaled deeply as if the air were precious. Pam’s body tensed mid-ride until she dropped on Mace’s. Her body vibrated as the orgasm hit every nerve ending. 

“Shit…I may begin to have a headache.” Pam whispered against Mace’s shoulder. “Haha! I thought you’re supposed to say that before, not after?” 

“No, not like that!” Pam giggled. “The sun was in my eyes when you had me pinned down.” 

“Aw, poor baby. Maybe a little nap in the house will do you good.” Mace cooed dramatically, stroking Pamela’s back. “Maybe, as long as you join me.” She sat up, fluffing her hair, but stopped in her tracks. Mace looked puzzled before responding. “What’s wrong? Can’t find your clothes?” 

“No…I found them. My assistant is holding them.” In that remark, Mace sat up to see what she was staring at. Two feet away from the gazebo, Pamela's assistant stood with her clothes in hand. With an expression Mace couldn’t read. Either embarrassment or pride. 

“How long have you been there?!” Mace adjusted her belt, stuffing her dildo under her head jeans as Pamela covered herself with her hands. “A while…I didn’t want to interrupt.”