ᵉˡᵉⁿᵃ 𖦹

— 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 #𝟐

— 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[ REQS CLOSED FOR CLIFF ]

— 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[ REQS CLOSED FOR LARS ]

I pressed down, like he told me, but my mind wasn't on the guitar. The feel of his solid chest against my back, the heat radiating from his body, the way his voice seemed to wrap around me-so impossible for me to focus. I shifted in his lap, readjusting, trying to get more comfortable, and felt something. unexpected. Was he getting hard?

A devious grin tugged at the corners of my lips, but I bit my bottom lip to conceal it. I shifted, this time more deliberately, and he twitched underneath me. Oh, this could be fun.

"Like this?" I asked, as innocent as could be, pressing back lightly against him to "readjust" my position. The tension in his body was palpable as I moved against him, which only served to want me to push him all that much more.

"Yeah," he replied a little strained after I had shifted my position. "Just like that."

I knew I was getting under his skin. His hands tightened ever so slightly on the neck of the guitar, and he cleared his throat-hard-as if he was trying not to lose it. I shifted once more, this time making sure to press back against him just right. The sharp intake of breath made my heart race.

Oh, I was most definitely getting to him.

"Am I doing it right?" I asked, my voice sweet and innocent. But I knew exactly what I was doing.

His hands tightened on mine, and I could feel him struggling to keep his cool. "You're... getting there," he said, but his voice was lower now, the calm tone gone. "Try it again."

I smiled to myself, loving how much power I had over him right now. It isn't often you can say you've made Kirk Hammett lose his composure.

"Like this?" I asked again, giving another little shift in his lap.

This time, I felt him pulse against me, and a low groan escaped his throat. Barely audible, I caught it and felt a thrill go through me. "You know exactly what you're doing, don't you?" he finally said, his voice low and rough, and his fingers squeezed mine light while tension mounted between us.

I chuckled low in my throat, twisting my head enough to be able to see him over my shoulder. "What do you mean?" I teased, batting my eyelashes as innocently as I could.

He raised an eyebrow at me, his eyes dark. "You're trouble," he shook his head.

I shrugged and played the ignorance card. "I'm just here to learn how to play guitar."

His hands slid from the neck of the guitar down to my waist. His grasp was strong, holding me in place. "You're not fooling anyone," he said, a little deeper.

I shifted again, just to test him, and his fingers dug into my hips. I felt him throb against me again, and I knew I was driving him nuts.

"Careful, sweetheart," he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "You're playin' a dangerous game."

My heart pounded against my ribs, and I couldn't help the goofy grin that spread on my face. "Oh? And what happens if I keep playing?"

Kirk chuckled, a low almost menacing sound, and my stomach did a little flip. "You're gonna find out," he warned, but I could hear the tease in his voice.

I leaned back into him, pressing just a little more. "Maybe I want to find out," I reply.

His hands tightened on my hips, holding me still. "You're something else, you know that?" he whispered, his lips tickling the shell of my ear. "But if you keep this up, I won't be able to control myself.

I couldn't help but laugh softly, again sensing the more militant way he seemed to struggle with the need to retain control. "Maybe I do like you when you lose control."

He groaned softly, and I could feel his breath against my neck again. "You're a tease," he muttered, but there was something almost affectionate in the way he said it.

I couldn't help but grin. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, trying to sound again innocent. But we knew both very well that right now I was anything but.

Kirk's hands slid back up to guide my fingers on the guitar again, though his grip was a little tighter this time. "Focus," he said, though I could hear the strain in his voice. "You wanted to learn how to play, remember?"

I let out an exasperated sigh and played annoyed. "Fine, fine," I returned, unable to refrain from pressing back against him once more. His response was instant, his breath choked and I felt him twitch beneath me again through the denim.

"Keep that up, and this lesson's gonna end early," he threatened, his voice husky with need.

I grinned, holding in another laugh. "You started it," I chided.

He growled softly, his hands squeezing my hips one last time before he pulled them away to rest on the guitar again. "Alright, alright. Enough games," he grinned. "Bedroom. Now."

I laughed a little running my fingers through his hair as he kissed me rough and a little messy sweet in his way. "You think you're pretty smooth huh?" I teased him grinning up at James.

James laughed, that low chuckle that always managed to make my heart do the tango thing. "You know it " he said, wriggling his eyebrows in a way that was utterly goofy and only marginally seductive. It was impossible not to laugh. He looked so ridiculously pleased with himself when I did.

He shifted, easing himself inside me slowly his eyes never leaving mine. It made me gasp. James grin, clearly pleased. "You like that?" he asked, teasing but soft.

I bit my lip nodding but trying to keep it cool. "Maybe " I said, playing along with his game. James knew what he was doing and he loved drawing it out.

"Just maybe, huh?" James said, grinning, as he gave a play thrust that again made me gasp. "Guess I better try harder."

I laughed, wrapping my arms around Jamess neck to pull him closer. "Yeah you probably should " I. James laughed again.

James kissed me again deep and slow. Couldn't resist breaking away to make another joke. "Bet you never thought you'd end up with a rock star whos also a dumbass."

I rolled my eyes. I was smiling. "Oh yeah surprise " I said in a voice heavy with sarcasm. "Because you're such a mystery James Hetfield."

James laughed, his body pressed against mine moving gradually yet keeping that teasing rhythm. Each time James thrust he'd pull back a bit giving me this little grin like daring me to say something. It was impossible not to giggle between the sweet sensations James was building up inside me and James keeping crack jokes.

"Hey focus " James teased, one brow raised as he thrust a little harder this time. "You're supposed to be enjoying this."

I laughed, squeezing my arms tighter around Jamess neck. "Maybe if you weren't so busy being an idiot I could."

James grinned, mock offended. "Idiot? I am never an idiot." James paused, thrusting into me again as he watched my reaction with a twisted smile. "I'm incredibly serious now. Can't you tell?"

I couldn't help myself I burst out giggling my head falling back against the pillow as I let out a contented sigh. Being with James was so different than anything I'd ever experienced. James knew how to make me feel good but James made it fun. Every look every touch was wrapped in laughter and teasing. It made everything feel so much lighter.

"Ah come on, baby " James whispered between kisses his voice softer now. "Let me see if I can get you to stop laughing for one second."

I laughed again. The next thrust took my breath away and James just looked so smug. "There we go " James said, chuckling as he moved against me a little then though still keeping that playful gleam in his eyes.

We continued to keep the pace teasing and laughter intermingling with harder feelings. James never hurried, once stopping to make a joke or often, simply to watch my response apparent in his enjoyment as I was.

Then James quickened his pace again. The laughter dissolved into softer sighs and moans. Jamess hands dug into my hips tugging me closer as James burrowed his face into my neck pressing light kisses against my skin. It felt good so easy we were totally in sync with each other.

I felt myself reach its crest. James must have known that too for James gave me that knowing smile, "You ready?" murmured low but still steeped with playful warmth.

I nodded, breathless. This time James didn't hold back. Jamess thrusts grew heavier. In a few seconds I gasped, clinging to James as I came. James followed after with a soft satisfied groan holding me tightly against him.

We lay there in the silence for a moment getting our breath back Jamess body, against mine. Then as usual James broke the silence with a joke. "See? Told you I was good " James said, grinning down at me.

I rolled my eyes. I couldn't stop the smile on my face. "Yeah yeah, rock star. Don't let it go to your head."

James chuckled, pulling me into his chest, where I snuggled in warmly under the circle of Jamess arms and James kissed the top of my head chuckling softly. "Too Late " James said with a mock arrogance. "I'm already a legend, babe."

I laughed, rolling my eyes again. " Humble, too."

The scar on my stomach was a line. It was from a surgery I had a long time ago. When its daytime the scar looks even worse. It's a line that goes across my skin. It reminds me of when I was hurt. It makes me feel broken. Tonight with Dave a few feet away I felt really bad about the scar. I hated it. I hated how it made me feel like something was wrong with me. I quickly pulled the shirt down and tried to hide the scar.

The bed. The silence was broken.

"What are you doing there?" Dave asked. His voice was low and rough from sleep. He. His hair fell across the pillows as he sat up. In the dim light his eyes were looking right at me.

"Nothing " I said softly. I did not look at him. "I'm just thinking."

"You're thinking much " Dave said. "Come here." He reached out his arm and his hand was pale against the sheets. The silver rings on his fingers caught the light.

I did not move away. I felt bad about the scar. It made me feel like I did not want to be close to Dave. "I'm just tired Dave " I said.

Dave knew I was not telling the truth. He has a way of knowing what people are thinking. He. Moved across the bed until he was sitting behind me. His chest was warm against my back. He put his face into the crook of my neck. His breathing was steady and warm.

"Talk to me " Dave said. His hands were on my hips. "You have been quiet all night. Whats going on?"

I swallowed hard. Looked at my knees. "It's stupid " I said.

Dave said, "If its bothering you it's not stupid. Tell me."

I was not sure what to do. My heart was beating fast. I slowly took Daves hand. Put it under my shirt. I pulled the shirt up. Put his hand on my stomach right on the scar.

I was waiting for Dave to say something about the scar.. He did not. He just held me. Did not say anything.

Dave did not pull his hand away. He did not. He did not say something that would make me feel better but was not true.

Instead Dave held me close. Put his other arm around my waist. He kept his hand on my stomach. Started to move his fingers. He touched the scar gently like it was something special. He rubbed his thumb back and forth on the scar. It felt warm.

"Look at me " Dave said softly.

I turned my head and our eyes met. Daves face was serious. He looked at me with a lot of love.

"You think this scar makes you not perfect?" Dave asked. His voice was low and serious. He kept touching the scar. "Listen to me. I have scars over my body. They are from fights, accidents and just living. Each scar means I went through something and came out okay. This scar is not ugly."

Dave leaned forward. Kissed my shoulder. His hair touched my cheek.

"It's part of you " Dave said. His voice was soft. His hand was still on my stomach. "It means you are strong. You went through a time and you are still here. To me it's beautiful. It's another part of the person I love."

What Dave said made me feel better. The bad feelings I had were going away. I felt relieved. I leaned back into Dave. He held me. He kept his hand on my stomach. Pulled the blankets over us.

"Dave..." My voice was shaking.

"Shh I've got you " Dave said. He held me close. I felt safe. The sound of his heart beating was like music to me. For the time, in a long time I felt like I was okay like I was whole and like I was beautiful.

I took the crackers from him. Smiled a little. He sat down beside me close and looked at me with kindness. It made me forget about the pain for a second. "Thanks " I said, eating a cracker. "Salty snacks are an idea."

Kirk looked relieved. Then asked me "Does the pain feel sharp or more like it is pulsing?" I laughed a little because he looked so concerned. "It is a bit of both " I said. "Mostly it is a dull ache that does not go away."

Kirk nodded, like he was trying to remember what I said. "Okay I got it.. aching." He is really cute when he is trying to help me.

Kirk leaned forward. Brushed a strand of hair out of my face. His touch was warm and sweet. I snuggled in a little closer to him. He was quiet for a moment. Then asked, "Would a heating pad help or maybe an ice pack?" I giggled, because I could imagine him running around trying to figure out what to do. "A heating pad would be perfect " I said.

Kirk jumped up. Went to get the heating pad. I could hear him talking to himself making sure it was not too hot. He came back. Handed it to me looking really proud of himself. I pressed the heating pad against my stomach. Felt a little better. Kirk sat down beside me. Watched me making sure I was okay. "Is that better?" he asked.

"Yes it is much better " I said, squeezing his hand. He squeezed back. Looked relieved. "Is this something that happens a lot " he asked, ". Is it just sometimes worse than other times?" He looked sorry that he did not know, which made me want to hug him.

"It is pretty normal " I said. "Sometimes it is worse sometimes it is better. It just depends." Kirk nodded, looking like he was trying to understand. He wanted to help me like my cramps were something he could fix.

"Do you think some tea might help " he asked, ". Maybe peppermint or chamomile?" I giggled, because he was being so thorough. "Chamomile might be nice " I said. Kirks eyes lit up. He went to make me some tea. He came back with a steaming mug looking proud of himself. "Here you go " he said. "Not hot right?"

I smiled at him because he was really trying to take care of me. "No it is perfect " I said. Kirk let out a sigh. Ran his hand through his hair. He asked me some questions like if I ever felt dizzy or really tired. I laughed, because his questions were so sweet. "Yes sometimes I feel dizzy and tired " I said.

Kirk looked worried like he really wanted to help me. "I wish I could make it all go away " he said. "Just you being here is helping " I said. Kirk looked a little shy. His cheeks turned pink. "I just want to help " he said.

I leaned my head on his shoulder feeling my body relax. "You are helping, Kirk " I said. He put his arm around me. We sat there in silence. Every now and then he would check on me. I would nod that I was okay.

Then Kirk asked me "Is there a kind of chocolate that is good, for period cramps?" I laughed, because that was a question. "Any chocolate is perfect " I said. Kirk. We both laughed.

Finally I started to fall asleep against him feeling safe and warm. Kirk pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "I got you " he whispered.. I knew he meant it.

Everyone called it a blessing.

No one ever asked what I wanted.

They lowered the veil over my face.

The world softened behind the thin lace, and suddenly I was no longer standing in my chamber.

I was standing beneath the old oak in the western gardens.

“You’ll catch cold.”

His voice had startled me then.

I remembered turning to find the knight assigned to my guard watching me with quiet concern. Sir Hetfield. The youngest knight to swear his sword to my father.

Golden hair escaped beneath his hood, and his blue eyes held warmth that no armor could hide.

“I came here to escape my lessons,” I had answered.

“And instead you found me.”

“I think,” I had smiled, “perhaps I did.”

He had laughed then. Not loudly.

Just enough to make me want to hear it again.

A servant adjusted the jeweled circlet resting against my brow.

“Your Highness?”

I blinked. The garden disappeared.

Only stone walls remained. I rose because they asked me to, and I walked because they guided me.

The corridors blurred into rivers of banners bearing the crimson falcon of Mustaine. Every step felt borrowed.

Another memory finds me.

Rain.

Summer rain.

I had escaped another banquet, fleeing into the courtyard before the storm arrived.

He found me standing there with my face turned toward the sky.

“You’ll ruin your gown.”

“I know.”

“The queen will be furious.”

“I know.”

He stepped beside me anyway.

Neither of us spoke.

The rain soaked us both until we were laughing for no reason at all.

Then he reached for my hand.

Tentatively.

As though asking permission without words.

When our fingers intertwined, the world became impossibly still.

“I forget you’re a princess,” he whispered.

“I forget you’re my knight.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I know.”

Yet neither of us let go.

Someone announced my arrival at the cathedral. Hundreds stood and the music began.

I walked forward.

Prince David waited beneath towering stained glass, handsome in polished armor worked with silver dragons. He smiled kindly when he saw me. That almost made it worse.

He had done nothing wrong. The wrongness belonged to fate.

Halfway down the aisle, my eyes drifted.

There.

Standing among the royal guard.

Sir Hetfield, my James.

Helmet tucked beneath one arm.

Expression disciplined into stone.

As though he were guarding any ordinary ceremony.

As though I had never known the softness hidden behind that composed face.

Another memory.

Winter.

The castle library after midnight, the fire had nearly gone out. I had found him there reading by candlelight.

“I thought knights only studied swords.”

“I disappoint people often.”

“You’ve never disappointed me.”

He looked at me then.

Not as a princess.

Not as someone above him.

Simply…

…me.

Hours disappeared while we spoke of stories, kingdoms, dreams we would never chase.

When exhaustion finally claimed us, I rested my head against his shoulder beside the hearth.

Neither of us moved.

Outside, snow buried the world.

Inside, silence wrapped around us like another blanket.

When I awoke, morning sunlight streamed through the windows.

He was still there.

Still guarding me.

Even in sleep.

The bishop welcomed us before the altar. His words echoed through the cathedral.

Duty

Honor.

Kingdom.

Sacrifice.

Every sentence landed like another stone upon my heart. I wondered if Sir Hetfield heard them too. Or if he remembered something else.

Spring.

A hidden meadow beyond the castle walls.

My escort had wandered ahead, giving us precious moments no one else knew existed.

Wildflowers danced around us.

“I shouldn’t have come,” I whispered.

“I know.”

“I shouldn’t keep asking you to meet me.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know how to stop.”

His answer came after a long silence.

“Neither do I.”

He brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear with trembling fingers.

Such a small touch. So impossibly careful.

As though I might vanish if he dared anything more. I leaned into his hand anyway.

For one heartbeat.

Then another.

Our foreheads rested together.

No promises, no impossible dreams.

Just two souls borrowing time they knew would one day run out.

“I’ll remember this,” I whispered.

“So will I.”

The bishop asked Prince David to speak. And he does.

His vows were sincere, filled with respect. With hope.

I wished with all my heart I could answer them honestly.

Instead, another memory claimed me.

The night before the envoys from Mustaine arrived.

The castle slept. I could not.

I found him where the battlements overlooked the moonlit valley.

He already knew.

“I heard,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry.”

He laughed once.

Not because anything was funny.

“Don’t apologize for something neither of us chose.”

“I wanted…”

“I know.”

The words failed me.

Every one of them.

He stepped closer.

Close enough that the wind could no longer pass between us.

“I’ll still be there,” he said.

“As your knight?”

“As long as they’ll allow it.”

His hand found mine one last time.

No audience.

No kingdom.

No expectations.

Only us beneath a thousand silent stars.

“I love you,” I breathed.

He closed his eyes.

“And I will carry those words for the rest of my life.”

The bishop turned toward me. The cathedral disappeared. There was only the sound of my own heartbeat.

The weight of the crown.

The ache inside my chest.

“My lady,” he said gently.

“Do you—”

I lifted my eyes.

Not toward the prince waiting beside me. Not toward my father.

Not toward the nobles who had come to witness peace.

I looked to the man who had guarded me through every season of my life.

Sir Hetfield stood perfectly still.

A knight. A servant of the crown.

Unmoving. Unbreakable.

Until the sunlight caught something upon his face.

Just beneath one steady blue eye.

A single tear.

Bright as a jewel.

Gone before it reached his cheek.

The bishop waited for my answer.

But all I could see…

"Mmm, you like that?" he asked, his voice still even but a little rougher now. His lips brushed my shoulder as he said it, and shivers ran through me.

"Y-Yeah..." I breathed, pushing backward against him a little more. The slowness of it all was driving me mad in the best kind of way, making everything deeper, more intimate.

He slid the dildo in and out, slowly, in just the same tempo, so very soft, unhurried, his hand firm, the laziness matching the languid energy of the room. This wasn't about rushing toward some finish, just being together in this quiet, peaceful way. I love how tender he can be, how even with all the dirty talk it always felt he was taking care of me.

"You look so fuckin' sexy like this," James muttered against my skin, low and thick. "So perfect, baby."

I let out a little moan in response, my body reacting to the warmth of his words, the slow steady movements he was making. I pressed my hips back a little, and he took the hint, keeping that same lazy pace but with just a bit more pressure.

"Don't stop," I whispered, loving the way everything felt so easy between us.

"I won't, babe," he promised, his lips trailing lazy kisses along my neck. So tender, in moments like this, it was hard to believe it was the same guy who screamed into microphones and thrashed on stage.

While he continued with the slow thrusts, his other hand slid up my side, stopping just underneath my breast. His touch was light, not trying to do too much, but merely letting me feel his presence, his nearness. I tilted my head back a little, resting it against his shoulder, fully melting into him.

"So beautiful," he whispered now, his lips grazing the edge of my ear. "I could watch you like this forever."

A soft moan escaped my lips as I felt him push the dildo in just a little deeper. The slow, lazy pleasure was building inside of me, not in any rush to explode, just simmering, warm and perfect. I loved that we never had to hurry anything with James. He knew exactly how to make me feel everything without pushing for more than we both wanted in that moment.

I reached my hand back to grab onto his arm, squeezing lightly as he continued his slow steady rhythm. "Feels so good," I whispered turning my head so our noses brushed together.

"Good... Good girl" he whispered back, his blue eyes warm to dark. Softly, he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine, the heat rising between us like it always seemed to.

James pulled out of the kiss, his forehead landing on mine, but he didn't change the pace of the dildo inside me. "Love this," he whispered. "Just me and you.. filled with this toy."

I leaned back against the cool metal of the mustang, my fingers trailing teasingly along the edge of my lacy bra. "Oh yeah? Like what, Daddy?" I ask, nibbling my lower lip. "I'm all yours tonight."

James inched closer, his big hands landing possessively on my hips. "First things first," he growled, before sealing his mouth over mine. His tongue plunged past my parted lips within seconds, stroking against mine as he backed me up against the car.

My breath caught as the cool exterior bit into my skin, a stark contrast to the heat coming off James' body. His hands slid around to palm my ass, squeezing the supple flesh rough as he ground his hardening bulge against my stomach.

"I need you out of those," James rasped against my lips, his voice thick with desire. Before I could get a word out, strong hands clamped onto the flimsy fabric of my bra and panties, tearing them off in one sharp rip. Cool air kissed the newly bared skin, making my nipples pebble into tight buds.

"James!" I gasped, both shocked and ridiculously aroused by his display. He gave a smirk at my reaction, stepping back to survey the view. My naked body lay open for him, each curve and dip outlined under the hard garage lights.

"Fuck, look at you," he groaned in appreciation, palming himself through his jeans. "Those models got nothing on you, sweetheart. You're goddamn perfection."

He lifted me easily and planted me on the hood of the Mustang, and I splayed out on my back in front of him. The smooth cold metal cooled my skin as he gently pressed me to lie back.

"Just relax, baby girl," he whispered, moving one finger down my sternum, between the valley of my breasts. "Daddy's gonna take real good care of you now... just sit there and look pretty."

Arousal pooled hot in my belly. I watched him through hooded eyes, bit my lip, and nodded, giving into whatever he wanted. James took his time exploring my body, cupping my tits, tweaking my nipples until they were stiff

I feel his zipper lowering and then the sound of his belt unbuckling, my breathing coming in pants as I watched him free his impressive length. The thick shaft sprang out veiny, already glistening with precum at the tip.

"Daddy's cock is so needy for you right now," he huffed, guiding the swollen head to rub against my slick folds. I whimpered at the delicious friction, my hips instinctively rolling to meet each pass. "Mmm, you're so wet for me already. Such a good little slut for Daddy's cock."

He teased me without any kind of pity, circling the blunt head around my clit, dipping into my entrance just enough to coat his member in my juices before retreating once more.

James lined himself up with my entrance, the thick head of his cock nudging at my slick petaled folds. With one quick shove of his hips, he buried himself to the hilt inside me, stretching me wide around his girth. A whiny moan tore from my throat at the sudden penetration, my channel squeezing down tightly around him.

"Fuuuuck," he grunted, giving me a very short moment to adjust before setting a ruthless pace. The old car creaked and swayed with us while he pistoned in and out, skin to skin, the wet clap resounding in the garage.

"Yes, Daddy! Just like that!" I cried out, my nails raking down his arms as I clung to him.

Between James' deep, punishing thrusts, he paused, catching his breath, staring down at where our bodies joined. "Look at you, baby," he praised, "so beautiful, stretched out on my baby like a fuck doll just for me."

The things he was saying only heightened my arousal, I felt like the most wanted woman in the world. I arched my back, thrusting my chest out as he filled me again and again, the car bucking beneath us with each stroke.

"Such a pretty picture," James said lustfully. "Gonna mark you up, leave my cum dripping down your thighs when I'm done with you." His hand snaked between us to circle my clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send shockwaves of pleasure crashing through me.

"Touch yourself, baby," James growled, pumping into me even harder. I did as told straight away, my hand slipping down to rub my sensitive clit in time with his thrusts.

"That's it, play with that pretty pussy while Daddy fucks you senseless," he growled, his hips snapping against mine. I could feel every inch of his throbbing cock, hitting depths that I never knew existed.

The feeling in my belly tied tighter and tighter, my breaths coming in gasps. "Please, James, I'm so close!" I begged, my fingers flying over my clit in desperate circles.

My orgasm took over me and I let out a wail, my body seizing up in ecstasy. There was a gush of fluid from my core at the same time, splattering across the gleaming hood of the Mustang. The feeling of my release coating James' still thrusting cock only served to push my pleasure forward, waves coursing through me.

I heard James groan low in his throat, the sound plain, my squirting had that effect on him, too. "Fucking hell, you're such a dirty girl, drenching my car like that," he teased, never slowing his hips in their relentless rhythm.

But however mocking the words, I knew he was near climax, his thrusts beginning to shorten and becoming increasingly sloppy.

With one last, pounding push, James yanked himself out of me, and I was empty and burning. I barely had time to understand what was occurring when he started caressing his stiff cock with quick, maddened jerks. "Want to see Daddy cum, baby?" I didn't have more than a nod, my gaze was stuck to the picture of his heavy balls drawing up tight.

With a roar, James blew, shooting rope after rope of the hot sticky seed across my quivering flesh and the pristine hood of the Mustang. It painted my stomach, breasts, and thighs in thick creamy streaks, the musky scent filling the garage.

"They're grown up," I say softly. "Living their own lives now.”

He nods, but his eyes stray away. I can tell he drifts off into memories, and a soft sadness settles in his eyes. He gazes down at the bedspread, fidgeting with the fabric. "I remember when they were just little… when they'd call me daddy and look at me like I was some kinda hero..."

I give his arm a gentle squeeze. "You were their hero. Still are."

He chuckles, but it's bittersweet, his eyes still filled with memories. "You remember the twins' first steps? They both walked on the same day. Held onto each other for balance. Stumbling all over the place."

I smile, remembering the scene. "I remember. They were determined, even back then.”

Sighing, he lets his eyes wander to the ceiling. "They used to run for us in everything, scraped knees, broken toys… they crawled into my lap, and everything was aright." He goes silent, his face softens, with a sadness only a father knows as he reflects on how fast time has flown by.

"They loved having you there, James," I reply, hope that he can feel the weight of my words as much as he hears them. "They knew you'd always make things better."

James sighs, glancing down at our hands intertwined on the bed. “It’s crazy, y’know?” he says. “Kirk just had a baby. Here I am, turning 61, and he’s starting all over again.”

I can see the thoughts in his mind. He rubs his thumb over my knuckles slowly, lost in it all. “I mean, I’m happy for him. Really am. But it’s got me thinking… what it would be like to go through that again.”

He exhales hard, his shoulders sag just a little. "Sometimes, I wonder if I did enough… if I was around enough. The tours, the nights in the studio… did I miss too much?"

I know he's being hard on himself, as always, when it comes to the kids. "They turned out incredible," I gently remind him. "Our girls and strong and independent, and our boy is so kind hearted and smart. You did plenty, my love.”

He stares out the window, his eyes misty, and nods slowly. "Remember when he first rode his bike? The way he yelled, 'Look, Dad!'… I swear, I thought my heart would stop."

I chuckle softly. "You were so proud. You couldn't stop talking about it for days.”

He laughs though there's a sadness to it. "Feels like that was just yesterday… and now he's halfway across the country, doing his own thing." His voice trails off, and he swallows. "I thought I'd be ready for this. But I miss them. I miss those little versions of them.”

I turn to him, brushing a hand over his weathered cheek. "James, they wouldn't be where they are now if it wasn't for you. You were there when it mattered. You were the one they ran to, the one they looked up to."

He blinks, his eyes softening as he looks at me. "You really think I did okay?

I smile and nod. "More than okay. You gave them the love and the strength they needed. You showed them what it means to work hard and care."

He leans into my touch, closing his eyes for a moment. "I just keep thinking about those days… when they'd sneak into our bed at night and snuggle up, and everything felt… complete. It was simple, y'know?”

“Life was simple," I agree, a little wistful myself. "But it's because of those days that they have the lives they do now. They grew up safe, happy, and loved. And you're a big reason why."

His fingers interlace with mine again, holding on a little tighter. "It just feels like it went by in a flash.”

"Time's funny that way," I murmur. "But look at them now. Our girls are thriving, and our boy is doin’ so well. They're good people, James. You should be proud."

He looks at me then. "I am. But it still hurts, y'know? Letting go. Knowing they don't need me like they used to."

"They're going to always need you," I say firmly, stroking his hand with mine. "Maybe not the same way, but you're always going to be their dad. That never changes."

He seems to let go of some of the sadness now. "You're right. It's just so hard. I want to go back. For even one day. To hear them laugh, to feel their small hands...”

I lean over, resting my head against his shoulder. "They'll come visit soon, and until then, we make the most of the time we have together. You and me."

James wraps an arm around me, pulling me close. "Thank you. For everything… for our beautiful children."

I close my eyes, feeling the warmth of his hug. "Always, James. You’re a great father, and the kids know that. That's what matters.”

And it wasn't very long before I started feeling something, maybe 20 minutes. My skin was warm, and every little touch from James wasn't helping my case. And by his reaction, I could say it was hitting him too. He had this look in his eyes... and a tent in his skinny jeans.

"You feelin' it?" he asked, almost breathless.

I nodded, biting my lip as the warmth spread through my body. "Yeah. I feel it."

James pulled me closer against him, pressing his body against mine. I could feel him, rock hard already, pressed against my stomach. The whole of my body was hot with that, and I knew exactly where this night would go.

"F-Fuck, I need you right now," he whispered. His hands were on my hips, digging into me like he was holding on for dear life. "Let's get out of here..."

I nodded, needy as he was. We stumbled down the hall in search of a room with an available bed... or honestly anything we could fuck on. Finally, we found a guest bedroom, and James didn't waste any time. He pushed me inside, kicking the door shut behind him and locking it.

I had barely a moment to suck in a breath of air before he was upon me, his lips crashing down onto mine. His hands were everywhere, caressing my body. "You're driving me... fuck.. crazy," he muttered against my lips, his voice shaking with his need. "I'm so fucking hard for you..."

I felt him pressed against my thigh, straining against his jeans, and it only served to make me wetter still. He wanted me so badly. "You're a mess," I teased, pushing him back toward the bed.

He let out a low whimper as I straddled him on the bed, his hands still tight on my hips. "I can't. fuck, I can't wait," he whispered.

I smirked, loving how needy he was. "I'm gonna make you wait just a little longer," I whispered, grinding my hips against him, feeling the hardness beneath me. Another soft whimper escaped his lips as my hips moved, his head falling back against the pillows.

"Please," he whispered. "I need you. Fuck, I need you so bad..."

I leaned down, my lips grazing his ear, and whispered, "Then beg for it..."

He let out a low groan, his hands pawing my hips even tighter. "Please, baby," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, "please-I need to feel you. I can't take it.

His words sent a surge of heat through me, and I couldn't restrain myself anymore. I reached down, fumbling with the button of his jeans before yanking them down. His already hard and pulsing cock sprang free, and I wrapped my hand around it, stroking him slowly. He let out a loud whimper, his whole body was trembling beneath me.

"Fuck James, you're so hard," I whispered, bending down to kiss him again. He kissed me back so hungry while his hands roamed my body and I kept stroking him.

"I need to be inside you," he whispered, sounding desperate. "Please, baby. I need you.

I smiled, loving just how desperate he was. I stood only long enough to yank off my own clothes and add them to the pile on the floor. James watched me, his eyes dark with lust, his cock twitching as I slowly climbed back on top of him.

I slowly lowered myself onto him, inch by inch. He moaned low as my hips were caught in his hands, sinking down onto him. "Fuck, you feel so good," he muttered, voice quivering as I started to move-slow and steady.

I smirked, loving how much control I had over him. "You like that?" I asked, grinding my hips against him, feeling him pulse inside me.

He nodded, his breathing ragged. "Yeah... fuck, yeah," he muttered as his hands guided my hips while I rode him. "You're so tight.

I leaned down, kissing him hard as I picked up the pace, moving faster now. His hands gripped me tighter, his whole body trembling beneath me. "I'm not gonna last," he muttered in a strained voice. "Fuck, I'm so close."   I smiled, riding him harder. "Y-yes..." I whispered, leaning down to kiss him again.

One final thrust and he let a loud moan escape, his whole body twitching beneath me as he came. I felt him pulsing inside of me, and that sent spiraling, squeezing his length as i came.

I fell onto him, our breathing heavy as we came down from the high. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in close as we settled into the bed, our bodies still tangled.

"Fuck," he whispered, his voice still shaking. "That was. insane."

I smiled and put my head on his chest. "Yeah..."

He looked up, catching me staring, and a grin broke out across his face. He smeared the grease off his hands onto the rag, headed up onto the porch. Climbing the steps, he set the rag down then knelt in front of me, his face aligned at my belly. He laid his hand against it softly, almost like he was afraid of placing his weight upon it.

"How's my little one doin' today?" he whispered, his voice all low. Teased, I could feel his warm breath against the fabric of my dress. He leaned in further down and pressed a soft kiss against my belly, resting his forehead there for a moment. "You keepin' your mama comfortable, I hope?"

I smiled, my hand moving to cover his. "Your little one is full of energy today. Been kickin' up a storm all afternoon."

James laughed, a sound that always seemed to come straight from his chest. "Just like their mama then, huh? Full of life, can't sit still."

His eyes found mine, and for a moment there was nothing but peace between us. He moved his hand from my stomach up to my face, his thumb tracing over my cheek. "You look tired, darlin'. You restin' enough?"

"I am," I replied, knowing he'd hover over me regardless of my response. "It's just hard to get comfortable with all this weight up front."

He nodded, something serious settling into his eyes like it always did. James had this way of listening like every word weighed an amount to him. "Maybe tonight I'll make us a little tea, that one with the peppermint and lavender," he said. "Ease some of that weight for ya."

I nodded, He always did know exactly what I needed before I even knew it myself. When I'd first told him I was pregnant, he'd been so excited, even more than I'd expected. But as the months passed, his joy had turned to something much more serious. I knew that he felt the responsibility, the same way I did. In towns like ours, life wasn't guaranteed and a safe birth wasn't promised. But he was set upon giving us the best opportunity, no matter the cost.

"Come on, let's go inside," he said, reaching out for my hand. "Can't have you sittin' out here catchin' a chill when the sun goes down."

I took his hand, and he pulled me up easy, his arm sure around me as we walked inside. Once we were settled in the front room, he fetched a quilt from the back of the couch and slung it over me. I sank into the softness, watching as he moved around the space, lighting the lanterns, pulling the curtains closed. Every movement was considerate, every glance he sent my way filled with something tender.

He came back and sat beside me, his hand finding my belly once again. "Little one's got a good strong kick," he whispered, smiling as he felt another movement. "I hope they got your spirit, that fire in you I fell in love with."

My heart melted, and I leaned my head against his shoulder. "I hope they've got your heart," I murmured. "The world could use more of that."

We sat in that comfortable silence for a while, his thumb tracing slow circles over my belly. Sometimes he'd speak to the baby in a soft voice, telling stories of his childhood or tales of the wild recounts of his ongoing job as the town sheriff. I knew that he was already planning the teaching of them to ride, to fish, to appreciate the beauty in a simple sunset.

Eventually, he got up to make the tea he'd promised, humming a low tune as he moved around the kitchen. The scent of peppermint and lavender filled the room, and I felt myself relax, even before the first sip. He brought me a cup and sat close, his hand finding its way to my belly once more.

"You know," he began, a soft smile on his lips, "I never thought I'd have this. Spent so much of my life thinkin' it wasn't for me. But I'm glad to be havin' a baby at 60 rather than never...." He paused, his gaze transfixed to the soft swell of my belly. "But then you came along and gave me hope."

I set my tea down, reaching out to take his hand in mine. "You're everything to me, James," I whispered. "You and this baby… you're all I ever wanted."

The baby kicked again, this time harder, as if in agreement. James chuckled, placing both hands on my belly, his face alight with pride. "Hear that, little one? You got a mama who's braver than any sheriff out there."

James. This man, the gentle, strong, endlessly loving man, was my heart. Soon he would be the heart of our child too.

This was not something I wanted to be doing. Still, it had to be the only way to undo the guilt, wash away that heavy feeling which could trap a person in their skin. I leaned over the toilet and started to do what I had to, hands gripping the sides of the porcelain, eyes shut tight. Just as I started to groggily stand back up, a creak sounded from behind me. I turned around, my stomach falling. There, in the doorway was James. His face screwed up in a mixed expression of. He didn't say anything at first, he just stared, he couldn't believe what he'd just walked in on.

My heart raced in my chest, and I could feel the tingle of heat rise to my cheeks. "James… I, I didn't mean—"

He shook his head and stepped into the bathroom, softly closing the door behind him. "Babe, what are you doing?" His voice was soft, without any trace of anger or disgust, as I'd feared it might be. He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. I tried to look away, but he tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"I-" My voice came out hoarse; the words seemed to catch in my throat. "I don't know. I just... sometimes I just can't control it... I don't wanna be fat..."

James exhaled deeply, his fingers warm against my skin. "You don't have to do this. You don't need to hurt yourself like this... and you aren't fat." His voice was steady but with a slight crack, it sounded like he was trying not to break down right there in front of me.

Immediately, my eyes welled up with tears, blurring my vision. "I just… I feel like I have to. It's like… no matter what I do, I'm not enough. Not good enough. Not thin enough. Not… I don't know." I wiped at my face, embarrassed to be breaking down like this.

James hugged me tight, holding me close. He didn't let go when, ashamed and embarrassed, I squirmed and tried to pull away. Instead, he drew me closer still, his gentle circular motions on my back soothing me all the more. "Hey, listen," he whispered. "You're enough. You are so much more than enough. You don't have to do this to yourself. Not for me, not for anyone."

We stood in the bathroom for what felt like forever, him just holding me as I cried into his shoulder. I could feel his heartbeat.

After a while, he leaned back, his hands still on my shoulders. "Have you been doing this... a lot?" he asked softly.

I nodded, my head hung in shame. "Yeah..." My voice was barely above a whisper. I didn't want him to know, yet at the same time, it felt like a weight had been lifted just by saying it aloud.

He nodded, his eyes off mine for a moment before he refocused on mine. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I shrugged, swallowing hard. "I didn't want you to think I was weak or… crazy."

"Hey, hey," he said, the tone firm. "You're not weak. And you're definitely not crazy. But we're gonna get through this together, okay?" His eyes softened into a warmth that I hadn't felt in so long. I nodded, something small flaring to life in my chest.

After that night, James was by my side every step through recovery. He would leave little notes around the apartment reminding me how beautiful I was, how much he loved me. He'd take me out on walks in the city, not to burn calories or anything, just to feel alive, to remember that the world was bigger than the darkness inside my head.

There were days it just seemed impossible. Days when the voice in my head was louder than his reassurances, and I'd find that old urge crawling back. But every time, James was there. Sometimes with a hug, sometimes with a distraction, and sometimes just with silence beside me, making sure that he wasn't going to go anywhere.

He helped me to view food as other than just calories or numbers on the scale. We would cook together, laugh together, making a mess of the kitchen, flour everywhere and dishes piling up in the sink. He would make me his pancakes on lazy sunday mornings, and though that voice in my head still nagged, it started to fade, little by little.

Slowly but surely, I taught myself to trust again. Not because I was just ready to trust, but because I had learned that I didn't have to be perfect to love, or to be loved, and that I didn't need to punish myself to feel in control. And every time I doubted that, every time that old fear began to creep in, I would look at James, at the way he looked at me, and it was a reminder that I was enough.

It wasn't easy, and I knew that days of roughness would lay ahead. But having James at my side made me feel capable of handling them. That somehow, I was strong enough to press on-to keep fighting for me, for us.

That for now, was enough.

"What're you thinking?" he asked, his voice low and soft, as it was only when it was just us. His calloused fingers slid along my arm, warm and comforting.

"Nothing. Just…" I replied, though my voice cracked, belying me. He narrowed his eyes slightly, seeming to see through me. Jason would sometimes have this weird feeling for things, like he could tell the storm brewing in my head when I hadn't even said anything.

He spun me round to face him properly, his hands coming to rest on my arms. "I don't buy that for a second," he said, his lips twitching in a little smile. But his eyes held that softness that always melted my heart. "C'mon, what's bothering you?

I bit my lip, looking down. "I just...I don't know. I was looking at myself, and I guess I just don't feel good about how I look right now. It sounds stupid I know, but it gets to me."

Jason was silent for a moment, just easing his hands down to take mine. His thumbs circled over my palms in gentle arcs, soothing me, anchoring me. "Hey," he whispered, leaning his head down to look at me. "Listen, it's not stupid. It's real and I get it. But it's also not true. Not even close... you know that right?"

I shrugged, feeling my throat well up into a lump. "You're just saying that because you're nice, Jase. I mean look at the girls around you all of the time, the ones at your shows, the ones in the magazines. They're perfect. I just… I don't measure up."

He shook his head, and I could almost see the sad tinge in his eyes. "Those girls?" He waved his hand like he was shooing the very idea away. "They're not even real, babe. Half of 'em are pretending, the other half don't even know what they're getting into. And anyway, that's not what I want. You're what I want.

I opened my mouth to protest, but he leaned in closer, his forehead pressing softly against mine. "I know you're not seeing what I'm seeing," he said softly. "You're kind, and funny, and smart, and you're beautiful. And when I'm with you, that's what matters."

My face grew hot, and I couldn't force away the tiniest smile, though I knew I wanted to stick to my skepticism. "You make it sound so easy, Jason."

"That's 'cause it is." He chuckled, his thumb brushing over my cheek. "I'm not saying this 'cause I think it's what you need to hear. I'm saying it because it's the truth. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and that's the first thing I think every time I wake up next to you."

My cheeks flamed red, but his words picked at the lump in my chest until it slowly unwound. "I wouldn't trade you for anyone. Not those girls, not anything in the world."

Jason wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close and I buried my face in his chest, letting myself just feel his heartbeat steady and strong against me.

He leaned back just far enough to cradle my face between his palms, his eyes delving into mine. "You're perfect to me. Every fuckin' inch, every curve, every part of you that you think is to big or too small. And even if you can't see it yet, I'm here to remind you, every single day if that's what it takes."

My throat constricted, but this time it wasn't from the insecurity. It was something else altogether, something warm. I nodded, burrowing my head against his shoulder as the words soaked into me like a sponge.

Jason didn't let go. He just kept holding me, and for a long time, we stood there wrapped up in each other.