Three On One.
Sheep prices were all right, and the outlook was good. The weather radar indicated the snow was tapering off and would be gone soon. The only bad news was an email from my son Johnny telling me he'd have to sign up for another tour overseas. There were adorable grandchildren pictures on Facebook, and I liked them all as a good grandpa should.
She came out in green sweats and barefoot. That woman could take the cold like no one I'd ever met. "Well, are we broke yet?"
"Nope. Got a couple of new ideas, though. Want to hang you upside down from the ceiling with your legs spread and sodomize you with a baseball bat. Game?"
"Damn, do we have a baseball bat around here? You are such a romantic." She gave me a peck on the cheek and bit my ear lightly. "Dinner ready?"
"Yeah, let's do it."
Everything was good, and we listened to the Saturday Metropolitan Opera broadcast as we ate. It was French and pretty agreeable; at least they weren't doing Wagner. Betty was lost in thought and didn't say much, and I wasn't talkative either. I thought about the past year, and still couldn't believe it. She was as good a sheep rancher as I was, and once I got to know her, the most fantastic woman I'd come across in years. It thought I'd live like a monk in my old age, but it didn't seem so. She told me she loved me and we were soulmates. I agreed.
After dinner, we cleaned up the dishes and I went outside to look at the roof. We weren't going to have to clear it after all, which made me happy. I stepped out of my shoes, took off my outwear and crossed to my bedroom to get into my pajamas. Hell, we weren't going to be entertaining anybody except each other the rest of that day.
Betty was lying in front of the fire on the bearskin rug. "Guess the snow's letting up since you're in your jammies."
"Yeah, it'll be light the rest of the day but we'll be fine for now. Everything's fed and watered, so I'm free the rest of the day."
"Good." She stretched out in from of the fire and patted the rug behind her. The opera was still going on, and I threw another log on the fire before settling in behind her. My hand went around her waist and found her nipple. Milking it gently, I made her shiver and snuggle her butt back against me, which made my dick reach out and probe her ass. Life was good. I milked her nipple harder and she purred.
After a while she murmured, "Better get that pump primed, I'm gonna need it in a few months."
"Got the test results back from the Doctor today. Confirmed. Company coming."
"A couple of weeks before Thanksgiving."
I held her closer and leaned over her shoulder blade, putting my face next to hers. "You want to get married?" I asked.
"Don't matter to me. If we were about twenty years younger, sure, but I don't think anybody cares about it anymore."
"Yeah. Our folks are all dead and my kids won't care. We're partners anyway, and all we need do is make a few adjustments in our paperwork 'bout who gets what when we die."
"Sounds good. Simpler is better."
The opera reached its climax, and we listened to it. When the applause started, I switched it off and went back to lay behind her. As I cuddled up to her again, she said, "Knew I should have bit your balls off when I had the chance."
I smacked her butt hard, almost loud enough to shake the snow off the roof. "Too bad I can't put my brand on you since you've just become breeding stock."
Shaking her head and turning toward me, she made a mock frown. "Since when do sheep ranchers use brands?"
"Well, you're no sheep, and I can't put a identity clip in your ear. It'd look funny when we went to town."
She lay flat on her back and smiled up at me. There was a glow in her face I'd never seen before: it was special. With a twinkle in her eye, she said, "How about a tattoo?"
"No thanks, I don't want one."
Smacking me on the arm, she gave me a fake look of anger.