Ken leaned back in the deck chaise contentedly. The weather was gorgeous. It was the last weekend in July and there had been a stretch of sunny, but unseasonably cool, crisp days of low humidity. He and Miranda were in matching white terry cloth robes and nothing else. They were on the back deck overlooking the boat house moorings and the inlet that let out to the Chesapeake. Further away in the wider part of the water, the occasional sailboat or small yacht had passed. He could see the rooftop of the main residence, which was more like a small castle, through neighboring trees. On one side, he could make out a neighbor's boat dock and just a chimney on the other side, but they were both far away. One or two boats had passed by, and they had heard a car pull into the main drive and then depart an hour or so later, a staff member Miranda had assured him, but otherwise they had had welcome solitude.

The sun was shining, the sky was dotted with just the occasional white puffy cloud, and a gentle breeze wafted over them from the water. It was heaven.

Ken glanced over at the spread he had helped Miranda lay out on the outdoor console table by the railing. He had laughed when he saw how much food she had ordered. "Well, I didn't know what you were going to want," she had explained. "Plus, we'll have leftovers for the next morning or so."

In the end, he had actually eaten quite a bit. Bacon, some well-seasoned and favorable omelet with meat and vegetables, and a couple of loaded turkey sandwiches cut into finger slices. Miranda had moaned over a fresh sliced bagel that she had spread with fresh cream cheese and loaded with lox. After they both had some food in their stomachs, she had gone to the bathroom to fetch them both some aspirin. It was kicking in, and he was feeling good. Miranda was nibbling delicately on a pastry, sipping her coffee, and lounging in her own chair, enjoying the view with him.

She had slipped into the shower with him after making the calls. He had moved as slow as molasses, hoping she would do just that. He had kneeled and gone down on her in the shower. He had gotten her to release, but as she complained she was still sore, he had used it as more of an opportunity to taste and explore her than anything; kissing, licking, and gently sucking, soothing her swollen folds. She had offered to return the favor, but with the impending arrival of food, he had assured her that later would be fine. They had time, and he didn't want her to rush anything this time.

He looked over at her. "Come here," he commanded.

Miranda put down her mug, popped the last bite of pastry into her mouth and stood to move to him. Ken spread his legs, allowing her to settle back against him. He wrapped his arms around her and gently rested his chin on her shoulder. It was intimate and wonderful.

Miranda could feel his package nested against her lower backside through the robe, not that she minded. They were both clean.

She reached her hand up to rest against the side of his face. He had just a hint of stubble starting since shaving for yesterday's ceremony. He breathed out happily behind her. Feeling emboldened, she dropped her other hand behind her lower back, wedging in between them. She felt his smirk against her cheek, "Whatch' ya doing, sweetheart?"

"Mmm," she replied. He shifted enough that she could rotate her hand to push the edge of his robe aside; a moment later and her bare palm was on his rod. She hummed again at the feel of smooth skin over growing firmness.

He shifted again, pulling his robe open and lifting her as he dropped his legs to the decking on either side of the chaise. He tugged to lift the back of her robe up and over his lower stomach, gaining access. She felt his blunt tip at the back of her sex. She moaned.

"Are you ready, again?" he asked softly kissing her neck.

"I'd like to be," she responded.

He kissed her neck again, gently sucking the soft skin below her ear lobe. "Well, in this position, I can't get as deep, which should help."

Miranda nodded her consent; that sounded good.

"We need a condom," he directed.

She really didn't want to move. "I don't care," she spoke breathily, already nearly out of her mind with need.

"Yes, you do. Grab the one left in my wallet. It's right inside the door."

"Ok," she recanted, sliding up and standing with a little assist from his hand and arm that he tightened to support her. She popped back inside the French door, leaving it open. She lifted his discarded pants, fishing his wallet out of the back pocket, and opened the bill fold to pull out the remaining condom. He was going to have to replace his supplies. On her way back out the door, she leaned to reach and grab the lube bottle off the nightstand. Returning to him, she raised the square packet up to him between her thumb and index finger.

"Hmm," he hummed, reaching for her to guide her back into position. As soon as she was settled, he tore open the wrapper, rolled it on, added some lube and lined her up, lifting her up as needed. They groaned out in synch as he slid her down and she dropped with his guidance.

Miranda felt herself be stretched open and this time the pressure was unlike anything, pleasure. Her core clenched and unclenched, and if she didn't know any better, she'd have thought she was flying while somehow still grounded, or rather locked onto, the man beneath her. It was unreal.

Her nerves going haywire and her body literally not knowing what to do with the rush of chemicals, she started to pant as she rocked herself against him.

Ken was reacting himself. She was so goddamn responsive, everything they tried had her dragging him over the precipice with her before he even knew what was happening. He pushed up from his feet and shifted his pelvis to rock himself against her. She screamed, she literally screamed, and as he watched a group of birds from the shoreline shot into the sky. Fuck! Damn good thing no one was around.

Miranda knew that even if a boat came past, no one could really see them up on the deck, plus their top half's were still basically covered by the robes. But, still, doing this outside was making her feel a combination of sooo dirty, and at the same time free and with nature. Her arousal was through the roof. She bounced down on Ken's dick, any soreness forgotten.

Ken struggled a bit to shift himself up to a more seated position. As much as he was enjoying himself, he had promised her a more shallow approach. Succeeding, he wrapped one arm over her chest, pulling her into him as he fondled a breast and dropped the other arm and hand to her spread legs. His delft fingers located her clit, he flicked the swollen nub and she clenched tight around his girth and screamed again. He tightened his hold on her and repeated the action, once, twice, three more times as she squirmed in his lap and started to thrash against him, crying out. He knew he needn't draw anything out further, one more thrust up at her from his planted feet and he moaned and panted out his own release.

Miranda slumped back against his flushed chest, spent, and satiated yet again. He just held her for a minute, then kissed the back of her head. Shifting her up enough to gain access, he slid the spent condom off of himself, folding in into a used napkin, repositioned his robe and hers, and sat her back the same way they had started in the chair earlier.

He kissed the side of her head and remarked, "Well, that was an adventure."

"Mmm, uh-huh," she murmured, snuggling into him and getting comfortable once more.

"So, sweetheart," he paused to kiss her head again, and she hummed softly in response. "I'll make you a deal, since you've been keeping me so well satisfied and I figure those sensitive folds of yours could use a repose, I'll give you a break. Nothing but kissing, for the rest of today and tonight," his brain jumped to thinking about what Gary had said in regards to his plans with Nora. His buddy may have had a point.

Miranda licked her lips and shifted her eyes up to him with a devilish look on her face that she then shifted as best as she could in the direction of his crotch. "Kissing only, huh?"

Ken cleared his throat, going along with the joke. "Ok, I will clarify as to above the neck, only, kissing. But, then my dear, all bets are off. Then it will be our last night together and I plan on taking full advantage."

Miranda couldn't help the pout that hit her lower lip at his last statement. "Will it really be our last night?" she asked, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than she wanted to be.

Her immediate pout hadn't escaped his notice. Normally, long distance was never something he'd agree to, but with how many hours he was putting in with his new job, it just might be doable. He also wasn't ready to concede to letting her go that easily either. "That's not what you want is it?" he asked rhetorically.

Miranda shook her head and held her breath.

"New York's not that far," he answered. "We can alternate trips and split up of some time with hotels halfway too if you'd like."

Miranda smiled, let out her breath, and relaxed further into his embrace. "I'd like that," she agreed.

They sat together, enjoying the comfort of being together, with a workable plan for more.

After a few minutes, Miranda broke the silence. "Do you sail?"

"I have a cursory education, but I can also follow directives."

"I guess that will have to do. Let's take the Catalina out in a little while. There's a great spot we can sail right up to for dinner. It's a local's spot, you can drive there, but most people boat in. They have the best crab cakes and the freshest seafood. The fishermen bring their daily catches right up to the dock."

"You mean Baxter's?" he asked.

She laughed lightly. "That's right. I sometimes forget you're a local. So, you've been?"

"Born and raised, sweetheart, and yeah, more than a few times. I've been with Gary's parents and within his circle of friends."

"We can go somewhere else."

"No, I love Baxter's." He really did, the place was like a microcosm of his existence, a collision of his ultra-wealthy and blue color worlds. He kissed the back of her head again, "and I'd love to go with you. It's a wonderful idea."

"Ok," she relaxed again. "They basically raised you right?"

Ken scoffed lightly, "More like Gary and I raised ourselves." He paused, feeling like he should clarify. "Don't get me wrong, they're not bad people, they were just, you know, busy, between the business, the country club, the yacht club, tennis, travel. They brought us along for a lot, but we were supposed to be self-sufficient. We were never really left alone; there was always some chef, maid, minister, or tutor around if we needed anything. James, Gary's dad, wasn't home much with working his way up the ranks with the Air Force, while mom Jean strong armed the ship company. When James was home, he'd often pull Gary aside to work on skills for him becoming the next Air Force Colonel and all that. He'd do things with me too, but it's not like I was their son, and I knew it."

"That had to have been hard," Miranda sympathized. She knew enough of Ken's background to know he was an orphan and former foster kid.

Ken continued. "I got jealous sometimes as a kid that I didn't have parents of my own. 'Got angry a few times as a pre-teen, 'till I figured out that I had the best deal. I literally got to have my cake and eat it too. When Gary was with his dad, I got to go to my old hang outs. Gary had a car that he'd let me use, but it was too nice for most of the places I was going. So, I would walk, ride a bike, or take the bus. I learned how to talk to people, how to fight, how to," he paused, to pull her seductively tighter against himself, "fuck." Her breath hitched and he smirked and then re-loosened his grip. "Sometimes I took Gary with me. As Gary was an only child, I think they kept me around for his sake. I mean, I know they cared about me, but not in the same way, of course. Gary and I were also expected to get out of our own scrapes. I never asked them for anything, but I have a feeling they pulled some strings for me on more than one occasion. I know they meant well, but it's probably one of the reasons I got so cocky. It was like I was untouchable. I learned things too, got skills. I mean I can be sophisticated enough to bag one Miranda McCallister."

Miranda laughed, "You are cocky. Don't get ahead of yourself there cowboy." But she had to admit, at least to herself, in truth, he wasn't wrong.