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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Behind The Barn
By Anonymous Author
First published by The Editor
***
Fun and games on the farm. (MMFF, FF-bi, cheating,
affair, swing, orgy)
***
Chapter 1
=========
"Just what did you mean by that?" Mike Peters turned
slowly around and faced his wife. He had already opened
the door, intending to stalk out, but now he slammed it
shut again, and Sandra recoiled from the look of cold
anger he was leveling at her. But she continued to
stare back at him, fury flashing in her green eyes.
Tossing her sleek, raven-crowned head, she fought the
beginnings of fear which were trying to root deep
inside her.
"Just what I said!" she retorted bitterly. "You've got
some plan in mind for that little vixen... I saw the
way you were looking at her!"
"For Christ's sake, Sandy, try and be reasonable!" Mike
snapped, resisting the temptation to go over and shake
his wife until her teeth chattered. He felt extremely
uncomfortable and just a little bit guilty. A guy can't
help looking, he told himself, when a broad as well-
built as Eve Slater comes into view, and as the girl
was going to be working for him, he had to be friendly
to her, hadn't he?
"Are you sure she's from the Agricultural College, and
not just some little number you've..."
"I'm sick and tired of listening to your accusations,"
Mike interrupted, "and I haven't got all day to stand
here and argue with you. Miss Slater," he went on
quietly, "is a student from the College, and perfectly
qualified for the project. She is majoring in Dairying,
and will be with us for three months. Anything else?"
"You can't tell me she knows anything about farming,"
Sandra persisted, feeling her anger and jealousy
combine and stick in her craw, choking the hot bitter
words out of her. As she continued to rail at her
husband, a suffocating feeling of futility and
frustration swept over her. I didn't mean to nag him
like this, she told herself hopelessly. I can't help
it... but she's so young and attractive, and the way he
was looking at her...
"I have to go now," Mike said tonelessly, "it's almost
milking time."
"That's right," Sandra hurled, "go back to your damn
cows... and your girlfriend!" Great gulping sobs
convulsed her, and tears ran down her face as she
stared at the departing figure of her husband. God, why
does she have to cry like that? Mike shrugged as he
slammed the door behind him. As always, he was moved by
the sight and sound of her tears, and felt the guilt
inside him strengthening with insidious speed.
He would have liked to take her in his arms, caress and
soothe her, stroke away her fears, in spite of her
nagging and accusations, but somehow, he couldn't. He
knew he was afraid that she'd reject his offering of
peace, and felt that he couldn't stand the humiliation.
If she wants to be like that, why should I be the one
to give in? he reasoned angrily, as he hurried over to
the barn.
***
Sandra crumpled like a rag doll onto the leather couch.
Her sobs resounded in the small room, and the fading
daylight cloaked everything in the office with ominous
ambiguity. She felt small and alone and unprotected and
totally incapable of drawing the strings of her life
together. The woman who had screamed at and harangued
her husband over a trivial incident was not the real
Sandra Peters. The real Sandra was a loving, warm woman
who stood by and encouraged her husband in all
ventures. But who was that whining domineering shrew? I
can't help it! she told herself again, burying her
tear-stained face in her hands.
The vitriolic, stinging memory of her discovery of her
husband's infidelity of over a year ago came rushing
back with painful clarity - the humiliation, the
feeling of complete insecurity, the anguish of it all
was as fresh as if it had just happened. Even though
they had made up, and she had sworn to forgive and
forget, and Mike had tried, and was in fact a model
husband since then, she couldn't purge herself of the
bitter memory. She knew that she had taken every
opportunity to get back at him, remind him of his
indiscretion, to throw it up in his face on occasions
when it was most wounding to him.
She knew that the misery, the unhappiness of their co-
existence, because it couldn't be called a marriage in
the usual sense of the word, was mostly her doing, and
yet, nothing would erase the jarring, searing memory of
that dreadful time last year. She hadn't waited to
verify her discovery, find out how long his involvement
had been going on, or how serious it was. She had
confronted him immediately, threatened divorce, court
action, instant ignominy, and had relented only after
weeks of ceaseless apologies, declarations of future
fidelity and sworn avowals of love by her distraught
husband.
In a way, she had to admit to herself, she had enjoyed
his obvious distress at her threat to leave, and had
basked in his repeated statements that "he couldn't
live without her." But the satisfaction she gained from
the knowledge that he couldn't do without her was
short-lived, and her ego had suffered too bruising a
blow for her to maintain for long her role of sweet,
forgiving but slightly-martyred wife. So her veiled
recrimination had begun, and had gradually become more
open and venomous, culminating in her accusations of
today.
But she couldn't fool herself into thinking which she
knew in her heart were unjustified, that her misery and
discontent sprang completely from her husband's
behavior. Even in her present misery, she was forced to
admit that her unhappiness was accentuated by
underlying discontent with her whole life. She had
never dreamed when she had got engaged to the up and
coming junior executive in the largest New England
textile firm, that they would end up in the heart of
New Hampshire farmland.
She and Mike had such a good time in Boston, their
first apartment, actually a tiny terraced house, their
fast little sports car, their young, happy-go-lucky
friends. She had enjoyed so much being a working girl
and wife, and her job as assistant buyer of Sportswear
for a large department store was flexible enough so
that she could take that bit of extra effort which made
her dinner parties such a success.
All her clothes were of the very latest fashion, and
even though she got a discount on them, Mike's salary
and hers combined had been generous enough to allow her
to afford the extras, like that pale pink silk full
length dress and matching coat which she had got for
the opening of the Opera season. Everything was going
their way, and Sandra actually enjoyed the weekends
they spent in the White Mountains, away from everybody,
in that fishing cabin Mike rented.
At that time, she thought rural life was romantic -
sitting before a roaring fire in the big stone
fireplace, lighting the kerosene lamps at night,
cooking the fish Mike had caught. After their hectic
weekday round of activities, it was great being alone
together, and when they got back to Boston, all their
friends used to exclaim enviously over their rustic
experiences.
It was just after their second wedding anniversary when
the blow fell. Mike's company was moving South, and
Mike decided to resign. Sandra was glad about that,
shuddering at the thought of moving to a small town in
South Carolina, and had naturally assumed that Mike
would take up another position with a similar company.
But her husband had other ideas.
His uncle had willed his rundown old farm in New
Hampshire to Mike, and he had always had a strong urge
to try his hand at farming. He had looked upon his
company's removal from Boston as an act of Fate, and
had felt that he had enough saved to enable them to
give farming a try. Dividends would keep them going for
a while and the capital would be sunk into the
renovation and working of the farm.
Even now, six years later, Sandra still shuddered at
the memory of that appalling first year on the farm.
The cold draughty house, the constant presence of the
builders, with their clouds of cement dust, ceaseless
hammering and banging, cooking and washing and existing
in the most primitive conditions - Sandra thought that
she would never survive. All her clothes got torn and
muddy and she had ceased to care about her appearance
that first year. But the greatest change had been in
Mike.
He was obsessed with the farm - every spare minute was
spent on it; it occupied his mind completely; nothing
seemed to matter to him but the farm. Sandra had
nurtured the secret hope that the whole project would
collapse and they could go back to the relative
civilization of Boston. But nothing seemed to deter
Mike - not even the loss of their small herd at the end
of the first year through foot and mouth disease. He
had become strangely stoical, and shrugged off his
loss, and grimly went about restocking his farm with
more of the huge, ponderous black and white animals of
which Sandra was deathly afraid.
Mike used to tease her at first, saying that the
languid Friesians wouldn't touch a fly, but he had
gradually become more and more impatient with her when
she refused to share his enthusiasm over them. As time
went on, she lost her fear of them, and even developed
sympathy for them, and she was unable to bear the
mournful lowing that rent the air when the tiny furry
calves were taken from their mothers so soon after
birth.
Resentment had built up in her over the years as Mike
became more and more immersed in farm life, and his
often stated feeling that he was glad he had made the
step from the City irked her considerably. Gradually,
their friends from Boston stopped coming to see them,
rapidly losing their idealized notions of rural life
when they saw the day to day reality, and now Sandra
had lost touch with them completely. Her life was
empty, pointless, she felt, and her husband's
involvement with the agricultural instructor last year
was the last straw for his demoralized wife. Life was
no longer worth living, she thought - nothing would
ever change; things would go on just as they were, with
herself and Mike completely estranged.
She felt like crying again, but no tears would come. In
fact, she felt devoid of all emotion, and the emptiness
inside her at least eased the pain. Her mind was a
blank as she got up from the couch, and wearily
stretched herself. She felt old and tired - and beaten.
I'm not old - why should I give up living? she asked
herself, catching a glimpse of herself in the full
length mirror that hung behind the door of the office,
which was once a small bedroom. She knew her figure was
still good, and she ran her eye critically over her
reflection, noting the firm, braless upsweep of her
full breasts through the raspberry colored angora dress
she was wearing, the womanly curve of her graceful
slender hips, the long expanse of her creamy legs.
I'm not over the hill yet, she told herself, running a
hand through her silky black hair which fell to just
below her jaw line where it swung into a synch on
either side of her oval face. Luxuriant dark lashes
framed her vivid green eyes which even in her weariness
sparkled back at her. What's the use? she mumbled to
herself, turning away from her reflection. Who's going
to see me here, vegetating in the wilderness?
She conquered the fresh wave of bitterness rising
inside her and with a sigh, sat down on Mike's swivel
chair, in front of his untidy, littered desk. It was
already the first week of the month, and she hadn't
done the accounts for the previous one. Idly, she swept
together the crumpled, disorganized sheaf of papers
which was a jumbled mass of invoices, receipts and
cancelled checks. Glad of something to take her mind
off her troubles, she plunged into the task of sorting
everything out and was soon immersed in her work.
When she had made everything into three separate piles,
she pulled open a drawer in the desk, and began to
rummage about, looking for the ledger to make entries
for the month. Why the hell doesn't he keep his desk
tidier! she muttered to herself as she eased a long,
hardbound book out of the drawer. As she removed it,
her eye fell on a bulging manila envelope which had
been wedged between another book and the one she had
withdrawn.
"Now what's this doing here?" she muttered to herself,
irked at the disorder in the files she had arranged
only recently. Frowning slightly to herself, she
fumbled with the envelope and discovered that it was
full of photographs.
Puzzled, she eased one out of the envelope.
"Oh my God!" she gasped aloud, unable to contain
herself. The blood rushed to her face, crimsoning it a
deep red. Tumultuous feelings of horror, disgust, anger
manifested themselves in a single sensation of
overwhelming nausea. A numbed haze blinded her for an
instant, and then she began to stare with bulging,
disbelieving eyes at the colored print she was holding
in her hand. Every detail was startlingly portrayed and
the two figures in the photograph seemed amazingly
alive.
For a moment, Sandra couldn't believe that she was
seeing right, but there was no doubt about it - it was
actually a photograph of a nude man and woman, sprawled
out together, the woman's blonde head dipped between
the man's widespread thighs, his grossly inflated penis
clamped tightly between her ovalled red lips. The man's
head was turned away, but there was no mistaking the
expression on the rapt woman's face. She was enjoying
taking that man's hardness in her mouth - her lustful
desire was etched clearly on her eager face.
Sandra felt her heart thudding painfully in her
ribcage. She had heard, of course, that people did that
sort of thing, but had always somehow felt that such an
act did not belong in a normal marriage. The lascivious
scene seemed to come to pulsating life under her
hypnotized stare, and the huge blood-filled penis
seemed to throb with lewd intensity as it lay cradled
between the full, ripe lips that were clasping it so
tenaciously.
The woman's half-closed eyes seemed glazed with
passion, and Sandra felt a shudder of unknown sensation
ripple through her. She couldn't seem to draw her eyes
away from the obscene photograph. Her fingers seemed to
be soldered to the glossy print, and somehow she felt
that if she looked away from the perverted sight, she
would tear herself away from a tenuous reality which
her moribund emotions so badly needed, and go berserk
with disgust and horror. How could he keep such filthy,
lewd pictures? her mind began to question. Does he look
at them often? Where did he get them?
Her curiosity broke the spell the obscene photograph
had on her conscientiousness, and hurriedly, she drew
out another of the colored prints. Her eyes flew
immediately to the scene, and a sudden, strangled moan
of horror broke from her lips.
"Oh no! It can't be!" she groaned as she stared fixedly
at the second photograph. This time, the shot was taken
from a distance, but near enough to display in detail
the pink moist delineations of a widespread vagina, the
glistening lips gently swollen around a dark star-
shaped opening. A man's face was juxtaposed over the
splayed mouth, the tip of his long tongue poised at the
entrance to the delicate roseate furrow. And there was
no mistaking that face, so wreathed in anticipatory
lust. It was Mike! For a moment, Sandra couldn't
believe that it was actually her husband who was
portrayed in that disgusting snapshot, the wavy fair
hair, his deep blue eyes, his fleshy sensuous lips.
Numbed shock rushed in a roaring torrent to her head,
threatening to explode, and she had to hold onto the
arm of the swivel chair to steady herself. Mike! How
could he do this to another woman? How could he let
himself be photographed like that? She wanted to
scream, to beat her fists against the wall, to turn
back the clock and forget that she had ever seen the
lewd pictures. Through the dim of her hurt and disgust,
another thought nagged at her brain.
This lascivious blonde in the photograph, who had
splayed her legs so unreservedly for her husband, was
not the same woman that Mike was having an affair with
last year. So there had been others! New thundering
anger swelled inside the distraught wife at the thought
that she had been deceived, and furiously, she snatched
the remaining photographs up and scanned them. Each
one, seemingly more lewd than the previous one, leaped
up at her horrified eyes as if to taunt her with the
spectacle of her husband engaged in all different
positions, with different women, and sometimes with
more than one!
"That bastard! That dirty bastard!" Sandra gasped, and
in a fury of temper, began to splash out at the
contents of the desk, scattering papers, letter trays,
pens; everything went flying in all directions and fell
to create untold chaos on the floor. Her anger
unleashed beyond control, she yanked at the file
drawers, pulling them completely away from their
moorings, and dumped the files she had so carefully put
in order, in a disheveled heap on the floor.
As suddenly as it came, her demonic flash of temper
deserted her, and she sank back in hopeless
bewilderment on the swivel chair. All around her, the
records of the past eight years lay in disarray on the
floor, and a dreadful sense of futility convulsed her.
"Oh God," she sobbed, "what did I do to deserve this?"
She buried her face in her hands and her shoulders
shook with the racking sobs which enveloped her. How
many more were there? she asked herself piteously,
torturing herself with images of various women that
both she and Mike had known. Had he had an affair with
all their friends? she wondered bitterly.
In her jealous humiliated anger, new images began to
inject themselves into her consciousness - glimpses she
had caught of various naked bodies with full voluptuous
breasts and creamy sinewy thighs, stretched out in
opulent sensuality, seemingly oblivious to the unknown
photographers who were busy snapping away as her
husband caressed and stroked and kissed those velvety
bodies.
Her mind seemed unable to banish the lewd images, and
fresh ones began to superimpose themselves in her
fervid imagination. Mike kissing and slavering an open,
exposed vagina, lewdly displayed and eagerly offered to
him... Mike sinking his wildly excited penis into a
greedy, grasping vaginal orifice, strong supple thighs
egging him on... Mike lying back as luscious red lips
encircled his bloated penis... The obscene snatches
from the vile cache of photographs she had unwittingly
uncovered played relentlessly in her mind, mocking her
with their leering evidence of her husband's
infidelities.
She felt broken in mind and spirit. The actuality which
those photographs seemed to point to was too shocking
for her to bear. Under the thin veneer of city
sophistication she had acquired, Sandra was still
basically a conventional American wife, strict enough
in her own way to the code of morality to which her
family and all before her had subscribed.
She had looked upon marriage as sacred, even in this
day and age of quickie divorce and pre-marital and
extra-marital sex, and had automatically assumed that
any philandering on the part of her husband would stop
after marriage. And she was sure it had! That was the
hard part. She had been so snug and secure, even in the
dark days of their early times on the farm, feeling
cocooned in the sanctity of the wedded state, and that
accounted for the tremendous shock she experienced when
she had discovered her husband's affair last year. And
now! She had uncovered devastating evidence that
pointed to a whole series of adulterous infidelities!
Involuntarily, she reached for the pile of photographs
which had fallen to the ground amid the shambles of the
office.
Almost disinterestedly, she scanned them over again.
Yes, there was no doubt about it! There were three or
four different girls involved in the debacle, and the
pictures showed Mike involved with each and every one.
She studied a particularly lurid one, showing him and a
tall lithe brunette stretched out, touching at only two
places. His mouth was firmly planted in the nest of her
dark pubic curls, and her mouth was tightly clasped
around the red thick length of his penis. The girl's
eyes were half-closed and her thick luxuriant hair fell
in tendrils around her face, giving her an almost
angelic look as she exalted in the feel and taste of
Sandra's husband's penis in her mouth.
Sandra continued to stare at the lewd shot. What did it
feel like, having a man's male hardness locked tightly
in your mouth? she wondered, amazed at the look of
almost reverent ecstasy on the girl's face. Mike had
tried once or twice, she remembered, pushing her head
down under the blanket, and she had, of course, refused
to do anything like that. She had always thought it
perverted, somehow, and yet, this girl seemed to be
thoroughly aroused by it. And that blonde in the first
picture, she mused in horrified fascination, flicking
back to it, seems in ecstasy, too.
Her attention was caught by one she hadn't scrutinized
before. It showed a well-built redhead, her breasts
full and vibrant, spreadeagled beneath Mike, whose
engorged prick was sunk halfway into the soft, hair-
fringed tunnel of her vagina. The girl's legs were
wrapped around her husband's lower back and her spine
was arched up off the bed as she strove to open her
depths wider and deeper to him. Sandra stared in lewd
fascination at the minutely detailed photographs of
sexual intercourse.
Even her animosity to her husband seemed to retreat as
she studied abstractly the obviously impassioned
couple. The redhead's head was thrown back, and her
mouth was open. Her hands were dug into his shoulders,
and her whole body seemed afire. Mike's hands were
clutching at her firm, upswept breasts, and Sandra
could see the reddened tips of her fully turgid nipples
slipping out through his fingers. There was a look of
pure animal desire on her husband's face, a look she
hadn't seen in a long, long time!
Despite herself, Sandra felt a little tug of jealousy.
She remembered how she used to arouse that complete
passionate frenzy in her husband, how he used to be
almost aflame with desire for her, and her alone, she
was sure, and now, this redheaded hussy was the one who
was making him act like that...
Sudden tears surprised her as they swam in her eyes. It
isn't fair... she murmured to herself. It was so long
since she had seen Mike crazed with desire, so long
since he had even made love to her... She felt a sudden
emptiness inside her, a feeling which she recognized as
vague desire. It began to gnaw at her, worming its way
insidiously into her depths, gaining a foothold in her
numb body.
He never tries to kiss me there anymore... the thought
leapt into her head. It was years since he had tried to
persuade her to allow him to put his head down between
her thighs and kiss her pussy, but she had so
vehemently and absolutely refused him when he had made
the attempt. It can't be so bad, she muttered to
herself, her eyes glued to another shot, this time of
Mike with his face buried in the copper fleece of the
redhead's openly throbbing cunt. Sandra could see the
moist flanges of the girl's vagina rimming Mike's wetly
glistening nose and mouth, and her thighs were clamped
and straining eagerly around his steaming face. The
girl's eyes were closed and it was obvious that she was
in the throes of complete abandon.
Then, in spite of the shock and revulsion of seeing her
husband locked in lewd, naked embrace with another
woman, Sandra felt a tingle beginning between her own
legs, a ripple that seemed to grow as her eyes
continued to focus on the spectacle of her husband's
groveling between another woman's widespread thighs.
How did it feel, to have a man's tongue licking and
sucking and blowing his hot, passionate breath into
that secret place, have his mouth warm and caressing
around your clitoris, feel his kiss on your nakedly
exposed pubic mound?
Her feverish mind threw the questions at herself, and
suddenly, she felt hot all over, covered with a cloying
clamminess that made her feel like tearing her dress
from her body. She was dimly aware that she was
unconsciously clenching her heated thighs together and
imperceptibly grinding her buttocks into the leather of
the swivel chair.
The tingling in her loins grew and the gnawing inside
her burst into a devouring flame and she wondered
vaguely what was happening. Her eyes flickered
aimlessly to another picture, and a startled gasp
eluded her as she stared in disbelief at what she saw.
Sandra thought that the photographs she had already
examined had prepared her to a point where she was
beyond surprise, but she was wrong. She gaped in
astonishment at the candid snapshot, unable and
unwilling to believe that it was her husband who was
actually inserting his huge, lust-hardened penis in the
blonde's tiny puckered anus!
But there was no doubt about it - the photograph showed
in unerring detail the enormous girth of Mike's blood-
inflated prick encircled by the brown crinkled little
rectal mouth, stretched cruelly around the massive
circumference. This lasciviously depicted anal entry
was too much for Sandra. Revulsion swept through her -
disgust at the knowledge that the man she had married
could and did indulge in such an animalistic, carnal
act, a thing she, a grown woman, had only heard about
in whispers.
It was too shameful to even think about; it was
disgusting! And yet, Sandra noticed in amazement, the
blonde didn't seem to mind it. In fact, she seemed to
like it, judging by the lewd look of delight on her
passion-contorted face. Oh God, what was going on? Her
world seemed to have gone topsy-turvy, and all the
opinions she had held on such matters seemed to have
been refuted by the pictorial evidence she held in her
hand. These girls weren't being abused, subjected to a
man's whim or desire - they were actually enjoying it!
They seemed to love all the obscene things Mike was
doing to them... they were reveling in what to her
would be the lowest kind of debasement.
Bewilderment crowded in on Sandra, and she felt
completely out of control of the situation. Her hands
rose slowly to her breasts, and she gasped as she felt
the electrifying effect her own touch had on the now
sensuously throbbing mounds. But she couldn't take her
hands away - somehow she felt that she had only herself
to turn to help her get over this terrible discovery.
She felt strangely lucid, as if her perusal of the lewd
pornographic pictures had touched off a streak of
insanity in her, and she could no longer control her
stampeding libido. Her mind was fermenting with images
of the various positions she had seen in the
photographs, and lurid thrills were beginning to shoot
up and down her body.
Involuntarily, she pressed her palms down her sides,
along her hips, and then dipped them between her nylon-
encased thighs. Immediately, she felt as if her vaginal
mound was straining to reach the comfort of her own
hands, and she felt a rush of inner moisture proclaim
the intensity of the weird sensations. She could feel
that the crotch-band of her panties was slightly
moistened and her fingers inched forward, like
individual bloodhounds on the scent of a relentless
target.
Moments of rationality broke intermittently through the
clouds of her frenzy, and taunted her with unanswerable
questions. What had turned her into a roiling mass of
feverish desire? Was it because Mike hadn't made love
to her for so long? Or were the dirty pictures having
an illicit prurient effect on her?
Her fingers kneaded at the burning lips of her
moistened pussy through the flimsy panties and Sandra
winced from the delicious contact. Why should I be
denied pleasure? her mind argued dimly. All those girls
were enjoying themselves; Mike was pleasing them...
it's not fair that I should be left out...
As though they had received assent, her fingers
burrowed hurriedly under the leg band of her panties
and teased over to the tingling flesh of her swollen
pussy lips, and Sandra felt the fleshy folds pulsate
under her sensitive fingertips. She sighed from the
exquisite sensation, feeling relief flow through her.
This is wrong... YOU SHOULDN'T DO THIS! Veiled threats
echoed through her mind, hidden warnings from
schoolgirl-filled corridors... dark messages about evil
masturbation...
But Sandra was too intoxicated with the rush of
pleasure to pay any heed to her own somber warnings,
and her fingers continued to plunge into the warm deep
recesses of her desire-drenched pussy. Nothing mattered
to her now - the whys and wherefores were unimportant -
all that she was concerned with was quenching the
raging fires that had sprung up unattended in her
loins, and which required heavenly fuel to feed its
lascivious hunger before it allowed itself to be put
out.
Suddenly irritated by the impediment of her panties,
her hands began to tear impatiently at them, and she
raised her hips from the swivel chair, and eased them
down over her thighs, leaving them dangling at her
knees. But she didn't care about that - her hands were
rolling up her soft angora dress and bunching it about
her hips, and she reveled in the freedom of exposing
her passion-enflamed loins to the cool evening air
which was rushing in from the half-opened office
window. Her fingers dug impatiently again at her
burning furrow, and convulsively probed at the
trembling hole of her clasping cunt.
"Aaaaaahhhhhhhh..." she couldn't suppress a sigh as her
hand cupped onto the now moistly pulsating orifice and
she felt the heated walls close in like a vise on her
sunken middle finger.
The passion inside her was goaded on to greater fever
by the lurid thoughts which had taken possession of her
head and would not yield. Obscene thoughts framed by
the disgusting photographs she had seen, images of
desire and lust instigated by many actions and acted
out in many forms. She was almost convinced that a
large heated penis was ramming into her eager, open
pussy, that she was one of those girls whose head was
thrown back in complete abandon, whose mouth was open
and from which a stream of sighs was rushing, whose
hips were churning under the delicious onslaught of a
heavy, passion-bloated cock which was plunging deeper
and deeper and harder into her...
Waves of heat were washing over her now as she ground
her buttocks down into the leather of the seat and
revolved her saturated fingers around inside the
velvety interior of her febrile vaginal sheath. A
feeling of dizziness was taking control of her, coupled
with a wonderful sensation of relief, and now she knew
she was cumming, because she felt so good all over, and
her hips were jerking uncontrollably, and a mist of
hot, feminine orgasmic fluid washed down over her
churning fingers, and she felt the office revolve
around her and her head was torpedoed by a kaleidoscope
of collaged nude figures, male and female, all fucking
and sucking and licking in total frenzy, and she was at
the center of it all, and she was loving it, every
minute of it...
Sandra slunk back against the chair, drained of all
energy, curiously devoid of all feeling but a satiated
stupor which controlled her and made it impossible for
her to do anything, not even pull her dress down over
her naked thighs. Her legs were splayed, her panties
hanging uselessly at her knees, and in the dim of the
mortification which was beginning to manifest itself
inside her, she reassured herself icily... "he'll pay
for this... I'll make him pay for this..."
***
Sam Maguire eased himself down from the ledge under the
office window, and with a furtive glance around, slunk
off into the foliage that surrounded the Peters' house.
He was still trembling with excitement, and could
hardly believe what he had seen. Later, when he got to
his quarters, he would go over it all again in his
mind, dwelling on every single detail of what he had
seen. He couldn't quite believe that he had been so
lucky. He thanked his lucky stars that he had decided
to have a peek when he saw the window open in the
office, and heard muffled sounds from inside. Of
course, it was fairly dim inside, but still, he could
see what was going on.
I seen her! I seen her finger-fucking her own pussy! he
chuckled to himself, treasuring the memory of the faint
glimmer of hair-lined pink he had glimpsed between her
open thighs as he eavesdropped on the demented woman.
He had seen her flimsy white little panties dangling at
her knees, too.
Who'd have thought that he, a mere farmhand, would have
got a front row seat, and seen with his own eyes the
beautiful wife of his boss, playing with herself? All
the nights he'd dreamed about the lovely, haughty Mrs.
Peters, all the times he'd imagined what she'd be like
with her dignity lost and stripped bare-ass naked...
now he'd seen her, half-naked anyway. She didn't see
him, didn't know he'd been watching, but he had been,
and God, he wouldn't have missed it for anything.
Chapter 2
=========
Mike hurried over to the dairy and went straight to the
milking parlor. He spotted Eve right away, standing to
the right of the long row of cows already chained in
the milking passage. She had put on a white coat, and
her blonde hair was piled high on her head, and capped
with a small band of white. Even with her fair, creamy
skin, she did not look washed-out, and Mike thought to
himself how attractive she looked in the white dairy
coat.
Her ample curves were cleverly accentuated by the
tightly belted garment and Mike could not resist
running his eyes over her proud, full breasts jutting
out like snow-capped peaks, the slight sway of her
molded hips, the long arch of her shapely legs. She was
talking to Sam Maguire, and turned when she heard Mike
come in.
"Good Evening, Miss Slater. I hope I haven't kept you
waiting too long."
"Oh no, Mr. Peters. Sam here has been showing me the
ropes and making me feel at home. And do call me Eve,
please."
"All right, Eve," Mike laughed. "We don't stand on
formality here, so you might as well call me Mike."
Mike felt more at ease when Sam had ambled off to
attend to the animals already milked. He felt a warm
friendliness exuding silently from Eve, and it
comforted him somehow, as he was still stinging from
Sandra's verbal blows. He felt that her accusations had
been unjust; he had bent over backwards over the past
year to make up for the affair she had found out about,
and yet nothing seemed to please her.
She had changed so much over the past few years, he
mused sadly to himself; she wasn't the same woman he'd
married, laughing, full of fun, ready for anything. She
had turned into a nagging, whining shrew and didn't
seem to care whether he was there or not. It was that
feeling of not being wanted that had made him seek
refuge in other women. Of course, he felt guilty about
it, feeling like a rat as he slunk off to his
clandestine meetings, but he had to do something, or
he'd go mad. Still, it was unfair of her to accuse him
of being interested that way in Eve. He'd be mad to try
anything with her, right under Sandra's nose. Not that
he'd mind.
"A penny for them!" Eve's light-hearted voice chimed in
on his rambling thoughts, and her interruption caused
him to blush to the roots of his hair.
"I'm sorry, Miss... Eve, I mean... I've been so rude; I
was completely carried away..." he stammered, conscious
of her twinkling gray eyes fixed on him. He felt
awkward, like a schoolboy. Her searching graze was so
intent, he felt sure for a brief instant that she must
have read his thoughts, but knew that was ridiculous.
"Well," he began lamely, "do you think you'll enjoy
working here?"
"Oh yes," she exclaimed, smiling widely. "Everything's
so up-to-date, and you've got a fine herd. Sam showed
me around everywhere, and I even saw your donkey herd.
That broken-colored stallion is magnificent!"
"Yes, he's a fine fellow, isn't he? Imported from
England from one of the champions over there. I hope to
have some good progeny from him next year."
"How is he working out as a sire?" Eve asked
interestedly. Mike started, her question disturbing
him. What did she mean? She knew he had only just got
the stallion, that there wouldn't be any foals till
next year.
"Eh, what do you mean?" he asked guardedly.
"I mean, does he do the job properly? He looked pretty
young to me!"
Mike found himself coloring again. What was the matter
with the girl, asking questions like that?
"He's able to manage," Mike faltered, and immediately
turned his attention to placing the clusters on the
first cow's teats. Normally, the dairy girl and Sam did
the actual milking, but as Eve was new, and the machine
might be unfamiliar to her, Mike had decided to help
her, in case she needed any instructions or had any
problems.
"I love the feel of a cow's teat in my hand," Eve mused
to him, moving on to the next animal. "It feels so
soft, so sensuous," she went on dreamily, "and it
almost comes to life as the milk flows through it, and
the thick frothy cream spurts out of it..." Mike was
glad he was hidden from her sight, and that she
couldn't see the flushed look of astonishment on his
face. Her voice was so hazy, her tone so sultry, and
Mike could see out of the corner of his eye that she
was caressing one of the pink-tinged teats as tenderly
and lovingly as if... He felt stunned by the impact of
his own lewd thought. As if it were a man's cock! That
was the thought that leaped into his head and drummed
persistently at his consciousness.
"Mike, could you help me please!" she called out
suddenly, and he found himself rushing over to her,
glad of the chance to be near her again. She was
hunched over one of the milk tube clusters which was
lying on the ground, and Mike's eyes were drawn, as if
by a magnet, to the exciting split between the tops of
her creamy white breasts. He was mesmerized by the
enticing glimpse of her deep cleft and had to drag his
eyes away when she looked anxiously up at him.
I seem to have lost one of the tops," she said
worriedly, and Mike got down on his knees beside her,
and scanned the straw for the dark-rimmed cap.
"Here it is!" he said suddenly, picking it out of a
golden sheaf, and he began to screw it back into the
tube.
"Oh thank goodness you found it," Eve breathed, laying
one of her small white hands on his thigh, "I was so
worried." Her touch was like a firebrand on his flesh
and when he looked at her, she was smiling at him.
"Well, we'd better get on with the milking," he said
weakly, and reluctantly, it seemed to him, she removed
her hand from his thigh. He suddenly felt bereft, as if
a part of him was missing. Pull yourself together, he
chided himself, you're acting like a teenager,
imagining all sort of ridiculous things.
They worked silently, preparing all the cows for
milking, and Mike's thoughts were swirling around in
his head. He couldn't shake loose the memory of her
touch on his thigh. Did she mean to do that, or was it
just an accident? And what did she mean by all that
stuff about the teat?
Finally, Mike switched on the milking machine, and the
barn was filled with the vibratory sounds of the
pulsator.
"Mmm, it's hot in here!" Eve said suddenly, and began
to unbutton her dairy coat.
"D'you mind if I take this off?" she queried Mike, and
when he replied, "of course not," she removed it, and
Mike saw that she was wearing a red see-through blouse
and a tight black mini-skirt. He could see that she was
wearing a matching red bra, really only a strip of
lace, and his eyes were riveted on the generous mounds
of her ivory breasts which were visible through the red
nylon.
"Do you like them?" Eve's voice broke in on his
distraction, and he could only stare open-mouthed at
her. Had he heard her right? His heart began to thud
uncomfortably in his chest and he was at a loss as to
what to do.
"Would you like to see them?" Again her gay, mocking
voice startled him.
"Wha..." he could only stammer.
"Would you like to see my breasts, Mike?" she asked
again with exaggerated slowness, walking a step closer
to him.
"Are you out of your mind?" Mike snapped, afraid that
his mind was playing tricks on him. "This is no time
for games!"
"I'm not playing any games!" Eve said silkily, and Mike
watched in boggling disbelief as her fingers fumbled
with the buttons on her sheer blouse. Gaping, he saw
the edges fall away and reveal the exquisite form of
her perfectly molded breasts, made all the more
provocative by the dainty confines of her lacy bra. He
could see the alabaster flesh heaving slightly and was
hypnotized by the rhythmic rise and fall of the
luscious orbs.
Incredibly, he saw Eve's hand slip around to the back,
and in a moment, she was shrugging the thin satin
straps from her smooth, pearly shoulders.
"Christ, they're beautiful!" He couldn't resist gasping
as the full glory of her exquisitely sculpted breasts
came into his astonished view. Craning his neck, his
eyes bulged as he stared at the creamy expanse of the
silky mounds, surmounted by delicate pink nipples,
semi-erect from the rustling of her bra. Her hands
crept up and cupped the full rounded young spheres,
thrusting them out, pointing the hardening little buds
at her disbelieving employer.
"God, Eve, I..." he murmured, unable to tear his eyes
away from the half-naked girl. His head was swirling -
things were happening too fast for him. He could feel
the protuberance of his cock growing, and it was
beginning to swell against the confines of his pants.
His hands fidgeted by his sides - they itched to reach
out and clasp those glorious globes of young college-
girl tit flesh, to knead and pummel them.
His mouth longed to take the tiny budding nipples
between his lips, coax them into turgidity with his
tongue, nip on their sweetness with his teeth. God, she
was driving him mad, standing there half-dressed, like
some youthfully naked Venus. She moved closer to him,
so close that her naked breasts brushed against the
blue denim of his work shirt, and the delicious contact
sent eddies of almost intolerable pleasure soaring
through him.
Sinuously, she rubbed the hardened tips against his
chest, purring like a cat, her arm resting casually on
his thigh again. He wanted to pull away, order his
errant young employee to get dressed, get on with the
milking, but he couldn't. What he really wanted to do
was take her in his arms, crush his mouth down on hers,
knock the breath out of her with his kiss, caress those
ripe boobies of hers, and then fuck her, yes, fuck her
to within an inch of her life. Instead, he managed to
inch backward a little.
"Eve... we shouldn't..." he faltered, his eyes dropping
again to the sensuous grace of her unadorned breasts.
"We shouldn't... what?" she queried boldly.
"We... you shouldn't... tease a man like that!" he
gasped, feeling his face flush. Yes, that's what she
was doing, teasing him with her naked tits, her sulky
voice, her veiled hints. Well, she'd better watch her
step, or she'd get more than she bargained for!
"I'm-not-teasing!" she enunciated, her hand slowly
reaching for the side zip of her brief black skirt.
With a horrified stare, he watched as she eased the
skirt down over her full hips, slipping it down her
thighs, and kicking it aside as it reached her ankles,
leaving her nude except for a tiny pair of bikini
briefs the same startling red as her bra.
"For God's sake, Eve, anyone could come in..." Mike
gasped, his eyes riveted on the golden triangle of
pubic curls squashed beneath the sheer fabric of her
panties.
"So what?" Eve laughed. "You're a man, and I'm a woman.
What we do is our business... isn't it?"
"You're crazy!" Mike rasped. "You'd better get dressed
before... before I..."
"Before you go out of your mind?" she taunted, moving
in a little circle around the demented man.
"That's right, you teasing little bitch!" Mike rasped,
his control snapping like a straw inside him. "You
can't expect to go prancing around in front of a man,
naked like that, and not affect him. You should know
what this could lead to, the temptation you're putting
my way. I'm only flesh and blood, and this is more than
any man can take!" He railed on, his mouth dry and his
voice hoarse, fighting to control the demons of lust
which were mutinying inside him. She continued to look
at him with her mocking eyes.
"Poor Mike!" she clucked, her hand dropping down and
cradling the considerable bulge of his swollen prick in
her palm. "What are you getting so uptight about?" she
crooned as she began to massage the growing organ,
feeling it pulse hotly in her hand.
Perspiration broke out on Mike's face. What the hell
did she think she was doing? Poor Mike indeed! She
thought she could twist him around her little finger.
Well, he'd show her he wasn't the Milquetoast she
thought he was!
"Now listen, Eve," he began, but her hand was already
drawing down the zipper of his pants, and his demented
cock, rejoicing in its sudden freedom, leaped up,
cleaving the air, the red bulbous head grotesque in its
palpitating arousal. His mouth hinged open as he stared
down at the apparition of his own blood-engorged prick,
and he moaned from the tremendous contact between her
cool fingers and his heated, throbbing flesh. Her hands
stroked and kneaded the elongated rod, drawing it out
into an even greater length and Mike felt powerless to
do anything but stand there and allow his new employee
to stroke his ever hardening cock in her masterful,
exciting way.
"Mmmm, what a nice big cock you've got, Mike!" Eve
hummed, continuing her rhythmic pummeling of his
pulsating organ, "I just know I'm going to enjoy
working for you..."
Her hand reached in and cupped the squirming sac of his
testicles in her palm, and Mike felt rising shivers of
ecstasy course through him, emanating from the
sensitive balls. Mike leaned back against the edge of
the stall, lost in the sensual reverie that Eve was
weaving around him. God, her hand felt so good on his
cock, stroking and kneading like that... it was a long
time since he'd felt a hot hand on his prick... too
long, in fact... Sandra never touched him there...
SANDRA! The memory of his wife jarred him back to
reality. She could easily walk in here, find him like
this, being stroked and caressed by this young
voluptuous agricultural student! It would mean the end
of everything, their marriage, all they had worked for!
She'd never forgive him!
With a tortured groan, he wrenched back from Eve and
backed out of the stall. His face burning, he stuffed
his long suffering penis back into his pants, and
hurried over and turned off the milking motor.
I don't know what came over me..." he mumbled. I
must've been crazy... anybody could have come in...!"
Unable to meet her gaze, Mike hurried over to the cows,
and began to undo the clusters frenziedly, his fingers
shaking.
"Mike!" Eve's soft voice was directly behind him.
Squatting to remove the clusters from the cow's teats,
he half-turned and saw Eve standing directly behind
him.
"My God!" he gasped, the milk-clusters falling from his
hands. She was stark naked! She was standing with her
legs slightly apart, and he could just barely see the
faint pink sheen of her pussy lips peeping out from
under the soft resilient thatch of golden curls. His
throat felt arid, and his voice failed him. He could
only stare. She was like a creature from another world.
A strange, exotic female who towered over him, and was
omnipotent. She held the power to transmit incredible
sensual ecstasy to him, and he was her slave.
"Eve..." he managed to croak feebly.
And then she was beside him, kneeling on the soft
straw, pushing him gently back. He was unresisting,
borne along on the wind of her tremendous sexuality. He
was completely in her power, and yielded as she once
more freed the heated protuberance of his bulging cock.
He sighed an uncontrollable moan as it sprang up from
the forest of his pubic hair and gasped again as her
fingers once more encircled it, pulling on it gently.
Her fingers were easing off his pants, and were playing
titillating along his thighs, sending chills of
pleasure rippling up and down and along his skin, and
kindling great flames of heat deep in the pit of his
stomach.
Like a robot, his hands reached up eagerly for the
target they yearned, and grabbed the full soft mounds
of her tender breasts, and clutched at the delicate
flesh with his talon-like fingers, making her wince
from the sudden pain, and leaving little red welts on
the smooth white skin. His fingers drubbed the hard
little beads of her nipples, rubbing them mercilessly,
tugging on them until they were rigid little spears.
Beside him, the cow fidgeted nervously, anxious over
the unaccustomed disturbance at her feet, and Mike felt
a moment's paralyzing fear lest her hooves lash out at
his prostrate body. But all practical consideration
fled from his brain as he felt his young milk maid
settle herself over him, her long smooth thighs
straddling his naked hips and Mike could feel the graze
of her soft curling pubic hair as it brushed against
his naked stomach. Still grasping his distended cock in
her hand, she began to guide it towards the warm
grasping furrow of her cunt, and Mike sighed with
pleasure as he felt the hard rubbery head caress the
soft delicate tissue already moist with expectation.
She began to sweep the bulging head of his inflated
prick along the length of her pulsating cuntal split,
and the fluted edges of her moistly glistening inner
lips clung tenaciously to his hard masculine flesh, and
the bulbous head became lubricated with her free-
flowing vaginal juices.
His head was swirling and a wave of pleasure, such as
he had not experienced in a long time, was washing over
him again and again, and with each cleansing wave, he
was laved of any doubts and fears he might have had.
Gone was all worry about his wife or anyone else
finding him stretched out with his naked young female
employee; gone completely was any fear of discovery.
All that mattered was the unbelievable thrill of
ecstasy he was feeling and which he knew would mount up
to an incredible crescendo of hedonistic delight.
"Mmmmm..." Eve sighed, "your cock feels so good against
my pussy..."
The lewd words coming from the young, innocent faced
girl's lips excited Mike even more and he felt lust
mushrooming inside him and threatening to turn him into
a raving beast. His hands flew down and grasped the
girl's slim tapering hips, and held her in a vise-like
grip. Hungrily, he began to rotate her entire pelvis
until she was revolving over the spongy cap of his
burgeoning penis still grasped firmly in her hand.
Gingerly, she began to position herself over the
jutting instrument, easing herself down slowly, until
she had managed to insert the huge distended head up
inside the tender inner folds of her cunt mouth.
"Aaaaahhhhhhh..." she sighed, accustoming herself to
the hard feeling of a heavy, pounding prick inside her.
But the initial contact unleashed the fury of Mike's
lust, and with a savage snarl, he crashed the helpless
girl's pelvis downward, driving his thick rod upwards
with flesh-splitting cruelty.
"AAAARRRRGHHHHHHHH..." Eve screamed out and struggled
in a vain attempt to dislodge the terrible instrument
from her unsuspecting depths. But she was completely
skewered, and the fleshy hair-lined outer lips of her
pulsing vagina were resting on the tickling nest of
Mike's blond pubic forest. Beside them, the cow
snorted, frightened by the ear-piercing scream, and
began to paw the ground ominously.
Mike's fingers clawed at the soft resilient flesh of
Eve's smooth rounded buttocks as he raised her loins
upward, feeling her sensitive inner membrane cling to
his hard fleshy rod as her heated vaginal sheath slid
upwards. He held her poised above him, leaving just the
hard burgeoning head still buried inside her, and then
he crashed her down again, feeling the spongy global
mounds of her buttocks flatten down against his pubic
area as his tunneling prick plunged far up inside her,
cleaving her unaccustomed flesh with cruel obstinacy.
He could feel the pliant entrance of her cringing womb
yield before his unabated onslaught and a gasp of
mingled shock and excitement escaped her as she felt
the unexpected pressure so deep up inside her impaled
belly.
Eve's eager vagina had accustomed itself to the
ponderous girth of Mike's trammeling penis, and she
began to move up and down freely, establishing a yo-yo
like rhythm. Mike's palpitating cock seemed to expand
even more inside her and she responded with a gentle
tentative flexing of her practiced inner muscle which
seemed to excite him to even greater lust. His hands
shot up eagerly and enfolded the enticing orbs of her
breasts in his palms, and they rubbed and caressed her
throbbing flesh, sending chill after chill curdling
through her blood, making passion pulse hotly through
her veins.
"Oh God, Mike..." she gasped, her hands clutching at
his tensely corded thighs, "your hands feel good on my
tits... as good as your cock feels inside me..."
Tremors of passion were spasming through Mike. Eve's
lewd words of praise sent lurid shivers running up and
down his spine and doubled the already incredible
pleasure he was feeling. He could hardly believe what
was happening! Only this morning, this girl was a
complete stranger, newly arrived from Agricultural
School, and now, after a turn of events which had left
him breathless, they were fucking, or rather, she was
fucking him! Yes, she was the one who had seduced him,
and who was now riding him like a savage Indian girl on
a half-wild mustang, her thighs clenching his hips
viciously, and the soft inner hole up between her legs
milking furiously on his rampaging cock. He had never
experienced anything like this before - stretching out
on the soft golden straw, being screwed by a real woman
- because that's what Eve was, there was no doubt about
that. Beside him, the cow lowed deeply, finally
accepting the strange, nakedly writhing couple beside
her, and Mike felt her breath, warm and sweet scented,
wafting gently over his perspiring face.
Mike glanced up and saw that Eve's face was coated with
perspiration, her mouth was half open and her head was
flung back. Her luxuriant coils of curls had become
undone and her silky flaxen hair was streaming down
like a silver stream over her bare creamy shoulders. He
had released his savage hold on her breasts and now the
full ripe spheres were bobbing from her exertion, the
reddish-brown nipples jutting out like berries, and the
brown aureoles were crinkled in their contracted
excitement.
His lust-glazed eyes traveled down the length of her
magnificent body, coated with moisture, reveling in the
soft yet supple milkiness of it, the provocative curve
of her womanly hips, the lemon-colored fleece of pubic
down which meshed so indistinguishably with his own.
Her long slender thighs were like alabaster columns and
Mike could see that the inner tendons stood out like
whipcord against the ivory inner skin.
She continued to grind wildly up and down on his
jerking prick, making a little teasing rotary movement
as she rose up. Her fingers slipped around behind her
squirming buttocks and stroked the squirming sac of his
testicles in a sudden swift movement which sent his
roiling sperm into a frenzy of churning liquid deep
inside the darkness of his balls.
"Christ, Eve," he panted through the breathlessness of
his mounting passion, "you're... you're incredible!...
oh God, keep tickling my balls like that..."
Mike felt a rush of heat that started in the pit of his
stomach rise up in an overpowering curtain and steam
through him, and at the same time, his cock began to
jerk uncontrollably and the ache in his writhing balls
had become unbearable.
"AAAAAGGGHHHHHHH... keep fucking... keep fucking... I'm
cumming! I'm CUUUMMMMIIINNNGGGGG!"
And then his body was caught up in a gigantic
whirlwind, and he thought he would lose consciousness
because a blackness appeared in front of his eyes, and
he felt he was drifting away, but his faltering
rationality was arrested by Eve's own hoarse screams.
"Oh God Mike, I'm cumming too. I'm... AAAHHHHHHH!" And
she was cumming too, her pelvis pounding against his
like gigantic waves against storm-tossed rocks. Her
fingers were like razor-sharp spears cutting into the
flesh of his hips, and the interior muscle of her
vaginal sheath was an insatiable entity of its own. It
was sucking, demanding, and getting, its life-giving
quencher of his thick store of semen, which suddenly
began to spurt along the pulsating tube of his spasming
penis and hose hotly up into the heated cavern of her
pussy.
Almost immediately it seemed, the frothy liquid
trickled back down around his pumping prick and seeped
into the matted pubic curls, already moistened with the
shower of her orgasmic release. The cow was blowing hot
puffs of breath down onto Mike's steaming face, her big
liquid brown eyes staring in boggled amazement at her
two temporary stall companions. Her big, wet white nose
just touched Mike's face as the last heave convulsed
his dying prick and he emptied the final drop of his
boiling semen into Eve's still hungrily twitching
pussy. At last, the exhausted girl collapsed onto his
panting body, and his now limp prick slipped easily
from her wet, cock-stretched passage.
"That... that was the best fuck I've ever had!" Mike
acknowledged gratefully. And it was. There was
something about the spontaneity of the act which
impassioned him to fever pitch, and the girl's own
total sexuality, and lack of restraint, unleashed a
similar characteristic in him. "You're quite a girl,
Eve," he added admiringly.
"You're a real man yourself, Boss," Eve praised,
smiling down at him.
"You sure know how to please a girl!"
She lay her face down on his chest so he couldn't see
her widening grin. Things are working out just great,
she thought happily. She had been thrilled when she had
met her new boss, captivated right away by his virile
good looks, and now she had discovered that he had
above average talent in other respects, too. Yes, she
murmured to herself, I think I'm going to enjoy myself
very much on this job!
Chapter 3
=========
Sandra threw her corduroy jacket over her shoulders and
stepped out into the yard. There was a slight breeze
which alleviated some of the premature heat of early
May, and she began to amble towards the barns. She was
glad the house was a short distance away from them -
she didn't think she could stand it if the animals were
milling about directly outside the front door.
There was nobody about and Sandra was grateful for
that. She didn't feel like talking to anyone this
morning, and particularly not to Eve, who turned out to
be a very talkative type, always anxious to engage
herself or anyone else in conversation. Sandra had seen
her several times talking to Sam in the yard, and she
had caught several glimpses of Mike and Eve laughing
intimately together.
Mike himself had been very incommunicative when she
brought up the subject of the new dairy help and how
she was working out. Of course, she reflected, after
that dreadful fight they'd had, she couldn't expect him
to confide in her. She wished now that she hadn't been
so hasty in accusing him of being interested in Eve,
that she had kept her suspicions to herself, but the
damage was done, and now she couldn't help thinking
that there was something going on between them.
It was several days now since they'd had that fight and
Mike usually tried to make up with her right away after
such an argument, regardless of whose fault it was, but
this time, he just didn't seem to care. That was the
part that hurt, he didn't seem to care anymore what she
thought or felt. She felt it was a stroke of luck that
he'd gone into town early this morning and wouldn't be
back until tomorrow. It would give her time to think,
and maybe even plan some strategy for getting back in
his good books.
But if he is really interested in that girl, I don't
know what I'll do, she worried, afraid she might have
gone too far. She hated to admit it to herself, but
there was no denying that Eve was really attractive,
and she had a slow, sensual way about her that Sandra
knew was exciting to men. She felt a twinge of jealousy
stab at her, and tried to banish from her mind the
nagging suggestion, almost a certainty, she feared,
that Mike had become involved with the new dairy maid.
No matter what happened, she didn't want to lose Mike.
But should I just sit back and let him play around with
that little blonde right under my nose? she argued.
Almost painfully, she thought again of the cache of
pornographic pictures she'd discovered, lewd filthy
photographs of Mike in disgusting positions with
different women.
The shock of finding them still affected her, and her
subsequent action of getting aroused by them shamed her
through and through. She didn't even allow herself to
think of that evening, when she had shamelessly
fingered her own vagina and actually reached a climax,
all from the sensations, evil, wicked sensations,
aroused in her by the vile snapshots. Every time the
thought came into her mind, when the memory tried to
torment her, she had brushed them back into oblivion,
waiting for time to erase the sharp-honed edge of her
humiliation.
"Good morning, Mrs. Peters," a voice sang out suddenly
behind her. It was Sam Maguire, and Sandra, turning
around, saw that he was leading Jacob, the donkey
stallion.
"Good morning, Sam," she replied, feigning
cheerfulness, and immediately turning her attention to
the animal. She hated having anything to do with the
hired hand. She never knew what to say to him, always
being afraid of sounding too familiar, or worse still,
acting very haughty with him. She began to stroke the
donkey's strong arched neck.
"Jacob seems to be in fine shape," she mused, running
her eyes admiringly over the animal's sleek black and
white body.
"All the exercise he gets keeps him trim," Sam smirked,
and Sandra turned to look at him.
"I thought he's kept inside for the season..." Sandra
puzzled. The donkeys were the only animals she was
really interested in on the farm, and it was she who
had encouraged Mike to keep them in the first place.
They were becoming very popular everywhere, and top
quality foals could fetch very high prices. They had
ten mares, and just this one stallion.
"That's what I mean," Sam leered. "His mares keep him
busy, and he sure knows how to rise that big rod of
his. Yes sir," he went on, staring intently at her,
"them she-donkeys sure seem to love that long prick of
his shoved far up in their."
"How-how dare you!" Sandra gasped, her face scarlet,
mortified with embarrassment at the farmhand's lewd
words. Who did he think she was, that he could talk to
her like that, use such filthy language in her
presence? Anger seethed inside her like bubbling oil,
threatening to overflow and scald everything within
distance. But she managed to control her feelings and
said in a low, even voice, "Please watch your language,
Sam. Mr. Peters does not tolerate obscenities, and I
would hate to have to report your despicable behavior
to him."
Even to her own ears, her words sounded dictatorial and
stuffy, but her shock was still electrically alive
inside her, and she was incensed at the liberty the
worker had taken with her. She had a good mind to tell
Mike, and perhaps even have Sam fired for his
insolence.
Sam looked the picture of the abject servant. He held
his old cap in his hand, and his reddish-gray hair
glinted in the morning sun. His head was slightly bent
and Sandra saw with satisfaction that his face was
suitably blanched with fear and consternation. Jacob
stood by calmly, seemingly totally unaware of the minor
drama his presence had caused.
Without another word, Sandra stalked away, leaving Sam
glaring after her. Fucking bitch, he spat. Can't even
take a joke. Well, she'll get her come-uppance one of
these days; I'll see to that! In fact, tonight just
might not be a bad time!
Sandra felt irked by the sound of the back doorbell.
She had just settled down to watch TV and was looking
forward to relaxing for a few hours. She had spent most
of the day in the garden, digging and transplanting the
seedlings she had sown in the spring, and she felt
tired and wind burned when she finally came into the
house and fixed a cold supper for herself. The heavy
physical work of gardening had taken her mind off her
worries, and now she had been hoping that the
television would do the same, and that she would feel
sleepy after watching a few shows, as she usually did,
and that she would then drop off easily to sleep.
With a sigh, she got up and went through the kitchen
and opened the door. She experienced a flicker of
distaste that coupled with her annoyance when she saw
who was there.
"Good Evening, Sam," she said tonelessly, not bothering
to hide her irritation.
Sorry to bother you, ma'am," Sam muttered, fidgeting
with his cap, his eyes downcast. "But the fuses went in
the barn an' I can't see to do my work."
"Well, I think I've got some in the kitchen," Sandra
said curiously relieved that he had a legitimate reason
for calling on her so late in the evening. She found,
somewhat to her surprise, that she had a new fear of
the farm worker, a fear born from his distasteful
remarks to her that morning. She sensed that there was
an underlying hostility or arrogance in his attitude to
her, and that his disrespect was a form of that
aggression.
She noticed with displeasure that he had followed her
into the kitchen, and willing herself to take no notice
of him, began to look for the fuses. She wasn't quite
sure where they were and rummaged around in the kitchen
drawer. They weren't there and she knew that they must
be on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet, where she
kept the electric light bulbs.
"I'll get them, ma'am," Sam suggested when she told
him, but she declined. She couldn't stand the thought
of his dirty, and she supposed, clumsy hands on her
clean kitchen cupboard, and unable to suppress a sigh,
pulled the kitchen steps over in position. Mounted on
the third step, she noticed that Sam had moved even
closer to her so that he was almost directly under her.
Thank goodness I'm wearing slacks she thought as she
groped around for the fuses. Relieved to find them
easily, she began to descend, thinking maybe now he'll
go away and leave me alone.
Suddenly, she stiffened. The blood pulsed wildly in her
veins and a sudden wave of heat engulfed her and
threatened to overcome her. She just couldn't believe
what was happening. His hands were on her buttocks,
feeling them, squeezing them - he was actually
caressing her back there!
She didn't know what to do. Fear washed over her,
followed quickly by revulsion, disgust, anger. She
hesitated for a split second on the steps. Should she
order him to stop, or should she just ignore it? If she
got angry, perhaps she might intimidate him, but on the
other hand, he was brazen enough to touch her like
that, and he might get violent. But conversely, if she
just ignored him, might he not interpret that as an
invitation to continue? Oh God, what should I do, she
wondered wildly. His work-coarsened hands continued
their lewd manipulation of her softly yielding ass
cheeks, kneading and clutching, and it seemed to the
agonized woman that an eternity passed in those few
seconds.
Then, she could stand it no longer.
"Take your hands off me, you disgusting old man!" she
shrieked, almost falling from the steps in her sudden
angry horror. Relieved, she found herself on the ground
once more, and gave vent to her feelings.
"How dare you? How dare you lay your hands on me? I'll
see you're fired for this. Your impertinence today was
enough, but you've gone too far this time!" She stood
glaring at him, panting from her exasperated speech,
her green eyes flashing like sparkling emeralds.
"No need for you to get on your high horse with me,
lady," Sam leered, an arrogant sneer on his weather-
beaten face, "'cause I know what you're really like!"
Sandra was thrown off balance by his unexpected retort.
She had anticipated apologies, sullenness, even a
denial, but she had not expected him to be so
completely defiant.
"What do you mean?" she asked, striving to keep a
condescending tone in her voice. Her eyes swept
contemptuously over his stocky, over-alled figure, and
she imagined she saw him cringe under her proud stare.
"Hmm, guess not even your husband knows what you get up
to when he's not around..." he said contemplatively,
and Sandra's heart missed a beat. Just what did he
mean? He was acting so strangely, not at all
intimidated. She was beginning to feel worried. There
was something menacing about this sudden change in
their hired hand, and her pulse quickened in fear. She
thought about screaming, but knew it was futile,
because the other workers were in their quarters on the
far side of the barns, and besides, the television in
the lounge was blaring, and likely to drown out any
cries for help she might make. Sam moved closer to her
again, and she drew back suddenly from his insidiously
searching hand which reached out and touched her hip.
"Get-get away from me!" she gasped, her terror
mounting.
"C'mon now, honey, I happen to know you need a little
lovin'!" Sam rasped, his eyes roaming freely over her
trembling figure.
"I-I don't know what you mean!" she stammered. What was
he hinting about?
"Don't play dumb with me, baby, 'cause ol' Sam knows
more about you than you think!" There was a new ominous
sound in his voice, an ugly, threatening note.
Sandra's heart raced with fear. He seemed to have
something on his mind, something he was trying to
threaten her with.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" she said
defiantly, hoping to inject her voice with courage.
"Let's put it this way!" he taunted, rubbing his hands
together. "You had a real nice time cleaning out the
office the other day, didn't ya?"
Sandra blanched, and suddenly her throat felt dry. She
could only stare in horrified amazement at the
triumphantly grinning figure of the workman. She just
couldn't believe that she had heard him correctly, yet
the enormity of the implication of his remark was
slowly etching itself on her disbelieving brain.
"No... no!" she gasped, unable to stop herself.
"Oh yes!" Sam laughed, delighted at the effect of his
bombshell on her. He was glad he'd waited to drop it on
her, strung her out a little first, got her ready for
the big one. "Yessirree," he went on, unable to
relinquish his stunning victory over her, "cleanin' out
the office was a real pleasure for you that day."
Sandra continued to stare in numbed silence at him. Did
he know - had he seen her? Was that what he was hinting
at, that he'd seen her looking at those pornographic
pictures, seen her pushing her own panties down to her
knees and fingering herself, seen her reach orgasm?
"What I do is my own business," she said flatly. She
felt devoid of all strength, completely stripped of the
will to put in his place this lewd uncouth worker who
was bent on tormenting her.
"It sure is," he conceded, "but I'd say them glossy
pictures are Mike's business, too."
Did he know about the pictures, too? she thought
wildly, suddenly desperate to get away from this vile
man.
"Will you please leave?" she said in a tone of quiet
command, but Sam only edged forward, and then suddenly,
grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her close to him. His
other arm closed tightly around her, and he peered with
lewd suggestion down at her.
"I could tell you really liked them colored pictures...
you got real hotted up when you looked at them, didn't
ya?"
Sandra was paralyzed with fear. She was afraid to
struggle, afraid to waken his real anger, which she
sensed was lurking near to the surface of his demented
personality. She decided that if she ignored him, he
might get tired of his little game.
"That one where they were sixty-nining is a real
winner, ain't it?" Sam taunted. "That's your husband in
the photograph, and did ya see the size of his cock
jammed into the broad's mouth?" Sandra felt a rush of
nausea, and fought to keep herself from retching. He's
insane, her mind screamed, you're not safe with him...
Oh God help me...
"...and did ya see her pussy, all red and juicy and
ready? I bet Mr. Peters really liked getting his tongue
in that little hole!"
"Oh stop it! Stop it!" Sandra screamed suddenly,
beginning to struggle wildly, unable to take any more
of her captor's leering obscenities.
"What's a matter, honey?" he leered, his hand
tightening roughly around her breast, crushing it
painfully through her cashmere sweater. "Don'cha wanna
talk about them pictures?"
"No, No, please leave me alone!" she whimpered, her
reason deserting her and leaving her a cringing mass of
fear and bewilderment.
"How did ya like the one where Mr. Peters was giving it
to the blonde in the ass?" Sam taunted again, and
Sandra felt a fresh shudder of revulsion convulse her.
As if by magic, a startling clear reproduction of that
vile photograph leaped into the terrified woman's mind,
and she could see the lewd scene finely etched on her
brain - the straining white mounds of the girl's
buttocks, the tiny dark ring of her anus nestled
between the creamy spheres; Mike's hugely distended
penis already inserted in the tiny puckered entrance.
She couldn't banish the lurid apparition from her mind,
and she felt suddenly that she was going mad. She
wanted to scream, to shriek and wail, do anything to
shatter the terrifying reality which encircled her, a
reality of disgusting perversity, peopled by such
lascivious monsters as Sam Maguire and her own husband,
Mike. Part of the revolting present was the hired
hand's tight convulsive clasp on her breast, and even
as awareness sunk once more into her brain, she felt
that same hand slip down along the curve of her waist
and once more cup her buttock, squeezing it intimately
in a lustful gesture.
Sandra felt totally devoid of control over her own body
and mind. Something had snapped in her when she had
finally realized that this lowly farm worker had
witnessed her surrender to her own lewd response to the
filthy pictures, and now she realized his domination
over her was complete when he had revealed an intimate
knowledge of those same dirty photographs. Had Mike
shown them to his employee? How many other people had
he shown them to? New, more frightening thoughts
alarmed the despondent woman. How long had Sam been
aware of Mike's infidelities? Had Sam felt pity for
her, Mike's wife, every time he saw her, knowing of
Mike's secret life?
Sandra was barely aware of Sam's hand insinuating
itself into the waistband of her slacks, flicking open
the button, pulling down the zipper. Her racing, panic
stricken mind occupied all her attention. The wife is
always the last to know. The hackneyed statement jumped
into her mind, and taunted her. Yes, she thought
bitterly, I was the last one to know - even the farm
hand knew before I did!
Her heart somersaulted inside her as she felt Sam's
wandering hand press against the softness of her belly
and move downwards toward the panty-clad mound of her
pubic triangle. Oh God, what is happening? she thought
wildly, really aware for the first time that the farm
worker's hand was actually inside her slacks and was
edging down towards her now trembling vagina!
"Oh God, stop it! STOP IT! !" she shrieked, struggling
wildly. She couldn't let this happen - no matter what,
she had to stop his lewd advances before they got any
further. Her startling thoughts had thrown her off
balance, putting her off guard, and now, this revolting
man was trying to fondle her down there!
"Hold still, baby," Sam rasped hoarsely, "and let ol'
Sam give ya li'l pussy what your two-timin' husband has
been neglectin'."
Sandra stood stock still. Did he know that Mike hadn't
made love to her in weeks? Had Mike told him? Oh God,
it was too much to bear! Sam took advantage of her
immobility and eased his hand inside the flimsy nylon
protection of her panties and slipped down to the soft,
hair-covered pelt of her vagina. The fingers hesitated
there for a moment before slipping upwards and teasing
slowly into the warm moist furrow of her pussy.
A shudder coursed through Sandra as she felt his hard
insistent fingers down between her thighs on her naked
genitals. She felt powerless to move. There was
something irrevocable about his intrusion there - as if
there was nothing to fight any more. He had forced his
hand inside her panties - she had allowed things to get
this far - and now, there was nothing she could do
about it! She felt broken, a victim of events initiated
by her husband when he had first started being
unfaithful to her. His illicit actions had started the
ball rolling for her subsequent acquiescence to the
farm worker's lewd manual play. It was Mike's fault!
Sam's fingers probed and searched in the softly
yielding cuntal folds, exploring the smooth, slightly
pulsating lips, teasing about with confident
insistence. Sandra was surprised at her own reaction to
another man's hand between her legs. She knew it was
partly because of her disembodiment from physical
feeling, but couldn't deny that the strange fingers
didn't feel bad down there.
"How d'ya like it, honey?" Sam hissed lewdly, "better
than finger-fucking yourself, isn't it?" Unwillingly,
Sandra admitted the memory of her own frantic fingering
of her excited vagina, her scurrilous search for
release. Shame flooded through her at the thought of
how she had writhed under her own probing fingers, how
she had squirmed her naked buttocks around lewdly in
orgasm as she plunged her fingers deeper and deeper
inside her. What was happening to her? First, she had
enjoyed her own lewd masturbation, and now she was
beginning to like the hired hand's fingers working
deeper now up inside her gradually moistening pussy!
No, it can't be! Her mind screamed, it can't be
happening to me! But there was no doubt now about it -
she couldn't deny it. She was beginning to ENJOY Sam's
fingers in her pussy, and in spite of her mind's
horror, her traitorous body was beginning to undulate
gently in time to the farm worker's insistent fingers
between her thighs.
Sam felt a surge of triumph on sensing her submission
to him. There was no denying that she was beginning to
like it - he could feel a tiny, but sensuous flexing
beginning inside her trembling vagina, and her whole
body was beginning to shiver in anticipatory pleasure.
He had won, he, the lowly farm worker, had succeeded in
taming this heretofore haughty wife of his boss, who
had so often looked down her nose at him! He could
hardly believe his luck in catching her playing with
herself in front of those dirty pictures of her husband
in the study that afternoon.
Tiny mewls of pleasure began to spew from Sandra's lips
and she leaned back against Sam and began to writhe,
her loins churning in simulation of copulatory rhythm.
She was being subjugated by the betrayal in her body,
her will to resist curbed by the greater mastery of
desire. Awareness of the reality of the situation was
fading; consciousness of the growing tingle in her
vagina was taking its place.
"How does that feel now, Mrs. Peters?" Sam breathed.
"How do my fingers feel touching your pussy? His other
hand was working at her firm rounded breast, squeezing
and tweaking the hard turgid nipple through her
sweater. Then, with a sudden upward movement between
her legs, he ground his fingers hard into the wetly
throbbing opening of her cuntal passage and wormed
their stubby tips far up inside her.
"Ooohhhhhhhhhh..." Sandra moaned, jolted by the searing
entry, tormented by the grating of his nails against
her sensitive inner membrane. His fingers continued
their wild rotary plundering inside her, and Sandra
felt weird new sensations cavort through her body. Oh
God... This is better than when I did it... she thought
helplessly in the daze of her passion, as she pressed
her now hungrily pulsating clitoral bud down on the
relieving hardness of Sam's hand.
"You really love it now, don't you, babe?" he gloated,
hardly daring to believe that this was really happening
to him, that his own boss' proud little wife was really
squirming under his manipulation.
"Oh yes," she hissed through passion-clenched teeth,
"Oh yes, it feels so good... Mmmmmmmmm..."
Sandra's entire crotch was a throbbing mass of aroused
nerve endings, and she felt as if an uncontrollable
fire had been kindled there. Her clitoris felt round
and hard and was pulsing strongly with the heated blood
of desire, and the swollen fleshy outer lips of her
hair-lined split were moist with passion. Chills
rippled through her spine which contrasted with the
heat which was rising from her groin, rising up to
cover her face and neck in a hot, rosy flush.
She was moaning uncontrollably now, unconscious of
everything but the delicious pleasure which was seeping
into every crack and crevice in her weary body and
infusing her with a joy she hadn't experienced for a
long time. She felt as if she was soaring on the wings
of some magical mythical bird which was flying high and
taking her to a warm heavenly place where he could
deposit her in a comfortable nest where nothing or no
one would ever harm her again.
And suddenly, she was there, in that unreachable nest,
gliding down into a feather soft resting place.
"Oooohhhhhhhhh..." she chanted, "I'm there... oh it's
so good..." Her hips were jerking in a heathen rhythm,
and she was mashing her vagina down onto Sam Maguire's
tiring hand in ceaseless motion, and her hotly seeping
pussy juices simmered down onto his fingers and
lubricated them completely as they continued to
instigate new and exciting pleasure inside her. Then,
finally, when the heated sensations of passion had
subsided and her body was reduced to convulsive
twitching, a blanketing peace came over her and
suddenly he left her alone to slumber in her long
sought magic nest.
***
Sandra didn't know how long she was asleep, and it was
dark when she woke. Blindly, she groped her way into
the bedroom, and threw herself down on the bed, not
bothering to remove her slacks or sweater. Her slacks
were slipping down around her hips, but she was too
tired to care. All the feeling of pleasure had deserted
her body, leaving her an empty shell of misery and
guilt.
She could hardly allow her mind to dwell on the
disgusting event from which she was just recovering,
and her brain, almost jeeringly, refused to even
reconsider the delight her body had experienced, but
insisted in emphasizing the lewd aspect of her
abhorrent submission to the farm hand's lewd handling
of her naked vagina.
Feelings of self-loathing rose up in her and filled her
with contempt for her own weakness. Kaleidoscopic
pictures of her husband in different pictures with
different girls, performing different prurient acts of
self-gratification tripped through her mind, lascivious
embroidery on the photographs she had actually seen,
and they tormented her into a state of humiliated
frenzy, until finally she dropped off into a fitful,
disturbed sleep, her mind insisting in a last crippling
blow, you're as bad as he is.
Chapter 4
=========
"For God's sake, Sandra, will you stop shouting? Do you
want everyone on the farm to hear you?" Mike was
getting exasperated. Ever since he'd come back to the
house for dinner, she'd been nagging at him, and it was
getting to be more than he could take. It had been like
this for several days now. It seemed to him that his
wife was forever harping on at him, like a harridan,
about one thing or another, and nothing he did pleased
her.
She seemed to be particularly distressed ever since he
came back from town, and he wondered worriedly if she
had found out about him and Eve. He felt a lightening
of his worry when he thought of his blond dairy helper
- if it weren't for her, and the comfort she gave him
over the last week or so, he'd have gone out of his
mind.
"You mean you don't want your little blonde girlfriend
to hear, isn't that it?" Sandra shrieked bitterly. She
knew that she was acting like a fishwife, but she
didn't care. The last few days had been hell for her.
Tormented with guilt over the episode with their hired
man when she had joyfully reached orgasm from his
manipulation, she had taken out her feelings on her
unsuspecting husband.
The fact that he was rather furtive and silent with her
didn't help matters, and although she longed for some
sign of warmth from him, her nagging and complaining
prohibited any show of tenderness. Consumed with guilt
over her own infidelity, she had no trouble in
imagining her husband to be engaged in similar action,
and she was haunted in particular by the photographs
she had uncovered. She felt she couldn't trust him - he
had concealed a period of stealth and deceit from her,
a period when he had had numerous adulterous affairs,
and she had no reason now to think he was not
continuing his old ways.
"You think I don't notice," she went on relentlessly,
"but I saw you with your arm around that hussy
yesterday! Where were you taking her? Into the cow-
stall to screw her?"
Mike flinched under her verbal assault. He hadn't
realized that she'd noticed his friendliness with Eve,
and hoped that she was only guessing wildly about what
was going on.
"Don't be ridiculous!" Mike retorted, feigning
nonchalance, his heart thudding at the memory of how he
had in fact lead Eve towards the hay barn. He tingled
even now at the memory of the passionate fire of their
fucking, how her creamy, resilient body had fused with
his as they writhed nakedly together on the hay, how
she had welcomed him inside her with all the certainty
of true womanhood. He shivered as he remembered how her
tight, eager young pussy had felt as it had contracted
like warm, throbbing liver around his pumping organ,
how her pliant fleshy breasts felt under his caressing
hands, how her full ripe lips felt as they returned his
ardent kiss.
"Hah, you're thinking about her now, aren't you?"
Sandra taunted, glaring with blazing eyes at him. "Have
you forgotten about all the others?" She felt a stab of
triumph when she noticed his sudden crimsoning, his
quick look of worried fear.
"You didn't think I knew, did you?" she jeered,
enjoying the look of perplexity that masked his face.
She hadn't meant to throw it up to him about the other
women in his life, but somehow, the expression of rapt
pleasure he assumed when she knew he was thinking about
HER, unleashed the green-eyed monster in her, and she
couldn't hold back.
"W-what do you mean?" Mike said lamely. A worried knot
of agitation was churning in his stomach, and he had an
ominous premonition that Sandra had found out about his
affairs.
"This is what I mean, you cheating bastard!" Sandra
snapped, holding aloft a bundle of photographs, which
Mike recognized with a sinking heart. She had found
them!
"Have you forgotten about this blonde," Sandra jeered,
waving a snapshot, "the one you're screwing in the
ass?"
Mike blanched under his wife's taunting obscenities.
"That's enough," he said, his voice icy cold.
"What about that cute redhead, the one whose pussy you
were licking and sucking? Have you forgotten her
already?" Sandra went on hysterically.
"Give me those photographs, Sandra," Mike commanded
calmly, although he was a turmoil of emotion inside. He
had dreaded Sandra ever finding those lewd
incriminations, and told himself that he should have
destroyed them. Now he was paying for his
procrastination. He had no idea how he was going to
extricate himself from the results of his
indiscretions, but he would worry about that later. All
that mattered now was recovering the snapshots.
"Give-me-the-photographs," he enunciated again, and
Sandra felt a quiver of fear. But she was determined
not to give in.
"Like hell I will!" she taunted, and Mike, aggravated
by her obstinacy, made a grab for them. Laughing
shrilly, she held them up in the air, and began to
dodge around the sitting room, laughing and tittering
at her husband's attempts to retrieve the snapshots.
"Catch me if you can!" she yelled wildly, ducking
behind the sofa. Mike, snarling with rage, threw
himself at the settee, but his agile wife slipped out
from behind it and once more prancing around the room.
"Stop that, you little bitch!" Mike spat, incensed at
his wife's mockery of him. He made another lunge at
her, and this time, managed to grab her wrist, holding
her immobile.
"Now give them to me!" he ordered, his breath coming in
pants from the unaccustomed exertion.
"Never!" Sandra gasped, looking wildly around the room
and struggling vainly to escape.
"I'm afraid you've no choice," Mike jeered, give them
to me, or I'll take them." Sandra was desperate.
Somehow withholding the coveted snapshots from him was
a symbol of some kind of victory over him, and she
wasn't about to relinquish that so easily.
"I'm waiting, Sandra," Mike intoned, his fingers
digging into her wrist.
"Then wait, you son of a bitch!" Sandra snapped, and
with a defiant look of triumph, threw the bundle of
lewd photographs onto the burning fire!
"You bitch! You goddamn little bitch!" Mike spat. She
had burned his photographs!
His fingers tightened cruelly around her wrist as he
stared at the burning photos. His raging anger had
finally mastered his embarrassed self-reproach, and her
spiteful sarcastic taunts echoed in his mind as the
pictures burned, the glossy sheen curling and
distorting the naked forms. As flames engulfed the mass
of photographs, he pulled one away from the burning
heap.
With unseeing eyes, he stared at the half-burned
snapshot, the two naked figures on it barely
recognizable. Shame and indignation boiled over
together in the cauldron of his emotions, and with a
growl, he threw Sandra down against the large ottoman
at the foot of the sofa.
"I'll make you pay for that, you fucking little bitch!"
he screamed, clutching wildly at her cardigan and
tearing it open, sending several buttons flying, and
ripping away her bra, revealing her full sensual
breasts jutting out timidly. The sight of their naked
glory only seemed to inflame him further, and he stared
at the smooth ivory orbs, his face blushing beet red,
and the cords of his neck stood out like rawhide.
"What do you think of that, eh?" he snarled, thrusting
the half-burned picture in front of his terrified
wife's eyes. "Is that what made you so disgusted?"
Sandra tried to turn away from him, but his hand
suddenly dipped into her shiny black hair and wrenched
her head around to face the wretched remnant of
snapshot, and as her eyes swam with tears, she could
barely make out the entwining forms on the photo. The
figures were distorted and crumpled, but she could see
clearly a thick, blood-expanded penis imbedded in a
small dark anal ring, surrounded by soft white cheeks
of deeply impaled buttocks!
Shudders of terror convulsed the cringing woman. She
was deathly afraid of the mountain of anger she had
moved in her husband, and was fearful lest he lose
complete control.
"Well, how did you like that?" he shrieked, pointing at
the disgusting photograph.
"Please Mike, I'm sorry, let's..."
"It's too late now to be sorry. You're gonna have to
pay for this, you little bitch. I'm sick and tired of
listening to you nag and complain. I've had all a man
can take, you goddamn spoiled bitch!" His teeth were
grinding in fury and his face wore an expression of
bestial sadism. With a sudden movement, he grabbed her
thin skirt, and yanked it hard, making the zipper give,
so that he was able to rip it from her body. She lay
there cowering beneath her furious husband, clad only
in a thin pair of white lacy panties.
"Oh Mike, please don't!" Sandra whimpered, cringing
against the ottoman, her arms clasped protectively
around her breasts, her legs drawn up to protect the
fulcrum of her body.
Mike stood over, a curious lust-satisfied look on his
contorted face.
"Now let's see how brave you are!" he taunted, grabbing
her again by the wrist, and throwing her face downward
on the leather-covered hassock. Cruelly, he forced her
face down onto the hard leather, his fingers locking in
her hair. He could hear her blubbering into the
ottoman, but her terrified fear only incensed him. His
eyes traveled down the milky whiteness of her body,
resting on the graceful flare of her panty-covered
hips.
He could see the twin orbs of her silky smooth ass
clenched together beneath the flimsy material, and as
he stared, a jeering memory of all the nights of cold,
unsatisfying sex he had experienced with his
complaining wife, came back to haunt him, and something
boiled over inside him when he realized that she had
been able to make him ashamed of his own natural
masculine instincts.
But even as he stared at the shivering figure of the
helpless Sandra, he felt a familiar twinge that began
in the pit of his loins, and rapidly spread to send his
pulsating prick climbing into hard turgidity. He could
feel his hardening rod pressuring against the fabric of
his pants, and it was hot and throbbing against his
inner thigh. The realization that she could still
excite him, after what she had put him through, angered
him to boiling point.
Angrily, he pulled down the last vestige of decency
down over his wife's curvaceously rounded hips, and
discarded the sheer panties on the floor. Her delicate
ass cheeks stood out unprotected, vulnerable, the
flicker pattern of the hearth fire shining over her
soft polished flesh. Barely discernable between her
quivering legs was the soft dark fleece of her pubic
hair, and beneath it the faint sheen of her trembling
little vaginal split.
Breathing hard, Mike placed his hands on the quivering
spheres of alabaster flesh, and slowly drew the
palpitating mounds apart.
Staring for a moment at the crinkled brown ring of her
little rectum, Mike reached forward and probed
experimentally at it with his finger. "Oooohhhhhh!"
Sandra jerked forward as though she had been prodded by
a hot coal. The high sprawling ottoman blocked her
effort to draw away, and there was nothing she could do
but submit. Mike's fingers were worming mercilessly up
between the tender globes, holding her painfully in
place. Sandra felt resistance drain from her. Her body
was helpless, to be used as he desired - the
responsibility was out of her control.
Mike ran his hands slowly up her smooth inner thigh all
the way to the hair-lined lips of her moistened cunt.
"Mmmmm..." he slavered, his balls tingling with renewed
excitement. There was something luridly arousing about
the submissively kneeling posture of his wife, and he
felt a soaring feeling of power as he sensed her
terrified acquiescence. His palms spread over the
smooth glossy ass-cheeks, cupping them firmly and
slowly pulling them even further apart. The skin around
her anus was straining outward as he pulled tighter and
his fingers probed sharply at the puckered little ring
like punishing electric needles.
"C'mon," he rasped bitterly, "spread 'em wide, real
wide!" Sandra moaned under her husband's crude demand.
She tried weakly to flare her buttocks, to do what he
asked her, ever fearful of arousing his violent temper.
Mike continued to tease at the puckered little circle
with his finger, relishing her agonized cringe against
the unnatural contact, while his other hand kneaded
without mercy at the soft buttock mounds. Bending his
reddened face downward, he lashed out with his long
moist tongue, and swept it along the length of the
quivering crevice, leaving a shimmering wet saliva path
between her trembling globes.
Sandra couldn't control a shudder of revulsion on
feeling his tongue there, and she could barely suppress
a gasp as he suddenly bit viciously into her pliant
buttocks, covering the soft sensitive flesh with sharp
little bites. Then his pointed tongue was probing at
the tiny exposed anal mouth, testing and teasing,
trying to stretch the tightly-clenched, unyielding ring
of her asshole.
"Oh my God, my God," Sandra sobbed, why is he doing
that to me? Is this really my own husband torturing me
like this?
Mike was jubilant when he heard her fresh sobs. That'll
teach the little bitch to play games with me, he
thought venomously, suddenly ripping down the zipper of
his pants, and releasing the long swollen length of his
lust-hardened cock. He sighed with relief from the
feeling of freedom as the hotly throbbing rod jutted up
proudly in the air. Stretching the straining white
buttocks even more, he lay the full length of the
palpitating member between her open ass-globes, resting
the smooth bloated head against the tight little
opening of her anus. Gleefully, he began to slide his
heavy protuberance up and down the exposed brownish
valley, a drop of premature semen lubricating the
hungrily searching tip.
He placed the swollen head of his blood-engorged penis
against the small hairless opening, and aided by his
insistent fingers, the giant rod began to push and
buffet against her nakedly defenseless rectum.
Although she tried to suppress the nauseating thought,
Sandra was struck by the realization of what her
husband had in mind for her. He was going to try to
sink his huge hardened penis into her rectum! IT WOULD
KILL HER! How could she take it? It would tear her in
half - the pain would drive her out of her mind. And
worst of all was the realization that her husband was
really capable of this depraved act!
Her dazed thoughts ran back to those horrible
photographs. Etched on her mind irrevocably was the
image of his animalistic penetration anally of that
lewd blonde - the look of debased pleasure on her face.
Sandra shivered in revulsion and as she did, her tiny
puckered sphincter brushed against her husband's rock-
hard prick, electrifying her with the insistent reality
of her own shamefully kneeling position.
Tears ran from her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.
She began to sob, low whining sounds, and struggled
weakly to release her behind from her husband's
sadistic grip.
"Shut up and hold still!" Mike snarled, and Sandra
forced a stop to the convulsive quivering of her body.
With a sudden, vicious lunge, Mike tried to shove his
hot, throbbing prick through the tight rubbery opening.
But it wouldn't go! It was too big! It pushed harshly
against the unyielding membrane and Mike cursed softly
at his momentary defeat.
Sandra was shaking; she couldn't expect any escape from
the depraved act that was to be performed on her. She
only clenched shut her eyes, trying not to think,
hoping that whatever was going to happen to her, would
happen fast and be over with. For the very first time
in her married life, she was desperately, deathly
afraid of her husband, and she quaked under her
terrifying fear.
Her face was numb from being pressed down into the
leather and her whole body ached from the cramped
awkwardness of her position. For a moment, a split
second, she had been relieved that his huge penis had
failed to pierce her anal passage, and had nurtured the
faint hope that he would give up his disgusting
intention. But he was trying again!
"AAAAARRRGGGHHHHHHHH! Oh God, stop it!" A blinding,
tearing pain shot up her back bone. She felt a slight
popping sensation at her anus and... OH GOD, HE WAS IN!
Her own husband was raping her rectum! The startling
pain took away her breath. The stretching, groping in
her back passage was unbearable - as if someone were
trying to plug her up back there with a huge barrel
cork.
Mike was surprised at the virginal tightness of her
anal passage. He hadn't expected so much resistance and
his anger had steadily mounted as his patience drained
away. His hard insistent cock was demanding
satisfaction, and now he had finally inserted it just
inside the tight rubbery circle.
The lust-maddened husband lurched forward again,
sinking more of the enormous shaft into his wife's tiny
tortured rectum.
"UUUGGGHhhhhhhhnnnnnnnn... oh no! NOOOOooooooo!"
Sandra's pelvis bucked and jerked against her husband's
maniacal impalement, the barbaric pain giving her new
strength. Futilely, she twisted and gyrated, trying to
shake off the brutal skewering of her flesh, but Mike
only grinned lasciviously and inserted his massive cock
farther into her inflamed back passage, drilling
mercilessly up the virginal channel.
Violent, shattering pain racked Sandra's body and
choked sobs caught rasping in her throat. She was
hopelessly caught on his merciless rod. Mike pulled at
her hips in a relentless, inflexible grip, flexing his
loins as he inched even deeper into her tightly
resisting sheath.
She squirmed desperately, tugging her severed asscheeks
away from his granite-hard member, but her struggles
only helped to bury the devastation of the advancing
cock further into her agonized rectal canal. The stiff
circumference of her husband's cock stretched the
tender ring of her ass until it seemed to clutch in
helpless desperation at the huge pole and suck it even
deeper into its violated interior.
"Oh Mike, please stop! please stop... I can't stand
it!" she sobbed piteously.
But Mike only gritted his teeth, and with a final
savage grunt, ground the full length of his monstrous
shaft into her tortured passage. He had buried the full
length of the elongated rod in her soft, brutalized
flesh!
Mike hesitated for a second, enjoying the tight,
inflamed throbbing of his wife's sensitively throbbing
rectum around his deeply imbedded prick. Then he began
a slow, abrasive pulling out of the extended shaft. His
withdrawal along the stolen path brought fresh moans of
new pain from his tormented wife, pulling it out until
just the swollen bulbous head alone remained engulfed
by the clinging flesh of her ass.
Then, closing his eyes in lustful pleasure, he once
again rammed its merciless bulk into her now forever
stretched anal channel, feeling the smooth buttery
cheeks of her whitely rounded buttocks settle
quiveringly around his hardening balls, as he once more
sunk every inch of it in her tortured depths. He began
a slow sawing motion in and out of her, the movement
becoming easier as her distended rectum relaxed a
little and allowed his rummaging cock to pursue its
bestial rape.
Sandra moaned and whimpered as he sodomized her, her
body lost in a labyrinth of pain. She had never felt so
totally abased and humiliated in her life. Not even
Sam, the hired hand's, lustful finger-fucking of her
naked vagina compared to the ignominy of this horrible
anal rape by her own husband. She wished that the
ground would swallow her up, because she didn't think
she could ever hold her head up again.
Mike continued his illicit fucking, his pile-driving
pelvis pounding against her upturned backside, his
leaden penis churning deeper and deeper into the
softness of her violated interior, slapping his loins
against her wet buttocks, his mind lost in the
abandoned perversity of the vicious anal fucking he was
giving her.
His breath stiffened and he began to gasp in short
rasping snorts. His cock ached beyond belief and seemed
to inflate even more as the sperm, boiling in his
steaming, writhing balls, clamored for release.
The massive rod began to slice faster and faster in and
out of the wide stretched rectum, and Sandra tried to
ease the cramped muscles of her buttocks, to lessen if
she could the excruciating pain. She felt her husband's
hands clutch even more convulsively into her now
slightly bruised buttocks, roaming over her hips. His
pelvic thrusts pounded wildly against her numbed and
flattened ass cheeks hard against her hip bones as he
began to shout strange growling sounds, mingled with
threats and lewd obscenities.
His body stiffened, swivelled only at the hips, his
toes dug against the floor.
"Hump back, bitch... move your fucking goodie, goodie
ass..." He shrieked insanely through tightly clenched
teeth. "Oh God, I'm cumming now, I'm cuummmiiinnnggg in
your asshole! AAAGGGHHHHHHH!!"
He buffeted against her, a final breathtaking clap of
flesh against flesh, his lust-stiffened rod knifing
into unfathomed depths of her agonized rectum. A
scalding white-hot stream of liquid shot into her hotly
clenching anus, searing the mercilessly ravaged
membrane. He jerked against her like a rag doll shook
by an angry child, her thighs and buttocks crushed by
the violence of his final assault, as he emptied the
full measure of his thick burning semen into her
forever-stretched anal passage.
Then he fell forward, flattening the lovely curves of
his wife's body under his distended bulk.
She lay there, dry sobs convulsing her as his softening
penis slid out of her wet, sperm-flooded anus, feeling
soiled, dirtied forever by her husband's vengeful
attack on her helpless anus, her bowels gurgling
slightly from the heated pool of it he had hosed up
into her.
Chapter 5
=========
Sandra lavishly applied the black eyeliner, rimming her
clear green eyes heavily. Coupled with the woody brown
eye shadow she had smoothed onto her eyelids, she had
achieved a stunning effect, and her eyes had a hazy,
smoldering look. Several coats of black mascara on her
long dark lashes completed her eye make-up, and she
decided to have another cup of coffee before putting on
her lipstick.
She poured herself a cup from the still-simmering
coffee pot, and added a liberal dash of brandy. She
liked the combination, and felt herself beginning to
relax as she leaned back against her chair, relishing
the steaming aromatic brew. It was her third such cup
already this morning, and she was glad that she had
decided to add brandy, because its tranquilizing effect
was salve to her troubled soul.
She knew she was also feeling a little better because
Mike would be out for the day, supervising the laying
down of a new electric fence at the boundary of their
property. The last few days had been hell for Sandra.
Mike had tried several times to make up with her,
apologizing for his dreadful behavior, but somehow,
Sandra felt she had passed the point of no return. She
felt a shudder of revulsion every time she looked at
her husband, and the memory of the bestial anal assault
he had perpetrated on her seared her brain like a
branding iron, giving no respite to her jumbled
thoughts of revenge and hate.
She had retreated into herself since that terrible
evening, refusing to listen to his feeble explanations,
her hurt and disgust feeding and strengthening the
anger that was germinating inside her, a slow, seething
anger that wouldn't be appeased quickly. This morning
again, just before he left for the day, Mike had lost
his temper with her once more.
"All right, have it your way!" he'd yelled, "If you
want to sulk like a child, go ahead. But don't expect
me to get down on my hands and knees to you."
"And don't forget, you're not exactly a model wife
yourself!" he'd hurled at her as he slammed the door.
His last rebuke had stung most of all. Her husband had
bit nearer the truth than he'd imagined. Her record
wasn't exactly spotless, she thought bitterly,
remembering her unadulterated ecstasy as Sam Maguire
had fingered her freely in the secret confines of her
eager vagina.
A shudder ran through her now as she involuntarily
relived the scraping, titillating feel of his coarsened
fingers as they slid up the tight, contracting sheath
of her cuntal passage, how his hard hand felt as it
squeezed mercilessly on her breasts, evoking a strange
sort of pleasure through the unbearable pain. Many
times during the past week, Sandra had puzzled over her
mind and body's acquiescence to his lewd handling,
wondering, in the clear light of following days, how
she could have let herself give in to him.
She realized that he had thrown her completely off
balance by his disclosure that he had watched her
through the office window as she had made herself
experience orgasmic release with her own fingers, and
also the fact that he seemed to be intimately familiar
with those pornographic pictures had stunned her. But
she forced herself to admit that in addition, he had
overpowered her by his self-assurance, and his crude
masculine way of dominating her. Again she felt a
tingle chill her spine as she recalled his roughness
with her, his complete disregard for her expressed
feelings.
There was something perversely exciting to her, she
acknowledged now as she finished her coffee, in the way
he had treated her, even abused her. There was little
pinpricks of fire niggling between her legs and she
realized that she had been grinding her pubic region
down unconsciously against the upholstery of the chair
in a lewd rhythmic motion. She stood up, swaying a
little and had to steady herself against the table. Her
head felt pleasantly afloat, and her body felt warm and
light.
She made her way back to the bedroom, and hurriedly
applied a vivid splash of lipstick and ran her brush
through her gleaming hair. She had no clear idea of
what she was going to do, but the thought foremost in
her mind was a desire for revenge. She had to retaliate
on Mike for the unforgivable thing he had done to her!
There was something else, too, a gnawing aching
emptiness deep inside her, like a worm eating away at
her.
Her body felt restless and taut, and she knew it was
because she had not made love for several weeks. She
had become accustomed to regular sexual intercourse
during the years of her marriage and her body was
reacting to this neglect. Mike wasn't interested in her
anymore, that was obvious. But Sam was! There was no
denying that the farm worker was definitely interested
in her and her flagging ego in its desperation found
the thought not unattractive. She suddenly longed for
masculine attention, a little appreciation of her as a
woman, even a little flirting!
Almost without realizing it, she wandered out of the
house and found herself in the yard. The brightness of
the sun seared her eyes and made her feel a trifle
dizzy, but she became accustomed to it after a few
moments and began to feel better. She was wearing a
light cotton knit dress which she knew was too short
for her, really, falling as it did to just the top of
her thighs. The light material stretched tightly across
her full, unconfined breasts, and she knew that the
horizontal stripe pattern added to the general
provocativeness of the dress.
She found, to her mingled dismay and surprise, that she
was almost desperately looking for Sam, her eyes
darting back and forth among the scattered
outbuildings, trying to catch a glimpse of his burly
figure. He was no where in sight, and feeling a pang of
disappointment, Sandra began to head back for the
house. What do I care if I see him or not? I'm not
interested in a mere farm worker, she told herself,
walking slowly in the direction of the house.
Then she heard his voice, calling the dog, coming from
the direction of the barn where the recently calved
cows were housed. Her heart began to pound in her
ribcage, and she had to stop herself from running over
to the shed. What's come over me? she asked herself,
acting like a lovesick teenager!
She stood in the doorway, and peered around in the dim
interior.
"Morning, Mrs. Peters!" Sam's gruff voice rang out, and
the dog suddenly rushed up to her, sniffing excitedly
at her ankles, his big shaggy tail wagging furiously.
"Down, King, Sam ordered, and the friendly collie crept
away unhappily, and lay down by Sam's feet.
"Hello, Sam," Sandra replied, her voice stiff and
unnatural. Her hands felt clammy, and she was sure
there were beads of perspiration on her face. I
shouldn't have come here! She fought to control a wave
of fear which was swelling inside her, the man's
quietness, the still, dusky interior of the barn,
frightening her unreasonably.
"That's some dress you're wearing, Ma'am," Sam praised,
and Sandra found herself flushing.
"T-thank you, Sam," she floundered, not knowing what to
say.
"Well, what can I do for you this morning?" Sam
drawled, an arrogant note in his voice. Sandra could
only see the glowing tip of his cigarette - the rest of
him was lost in the murkiness of the barn. It irritated
her that he could see her clearly, silhouetted against
the doorway, and exasperated, she stepped inside.
She almost stumbled, her feet unaccustomed to the
deceptive softness of the straw, and she had to put a
hand out on the rough wall to steady herself.
"Are you all right?" Sam asked, and Sandra froze when
she realized that his voice was closer, much closer.
Her eyes were dazzled by the brilliant sunshine and she
just couldn't see a thing!
"W-where are you?" she asked in a small voice, fear
suddenly taking hold of her again.
"AAAGGGHHHHHHH!" Sandra screamed as she felt strong
hard arms around her, clasping her tightly, and then
tobacco-scented breath hot on her face.
"Stop it! Let me go!" she hissed, struggling
desperately to escape as her courage to go through with
her plan faded in her mind.
Then his mouth was on hers, his lips bruising against
hers in a sweltering unrelenting kiss, his tongue, wet
and hard pressing against her teeth, forcing entry,
coupling lewdly with her own mutinous tongue. Sandra
was fighting for breath as just as suddenly as she had
begun, she ceased to struggle under the farm worker's
illicit embrace.
All fight went from her and as her fear diminished, she
realized that she was beginning to enjoy being grasped
roughly in her husband's employee's arms, to enjoy his
hard grinding kiss on her tender lips. His tongue
swirled around in her velvety mouth, and he was
crushing her breasts against his chest, and Sandra
could feel the hem of her tight dress riding up on her
hips.
She gasped as she felt Sam's knee pry apart her thighs,
and then moaned involuntarily as she felt the bony
kneecap rub unremittingly against the burning zone of
her vagina. His crude caress awoke the sparks that had
kindled in her sensitive pussy earlier that morning and
she found herself grinding her throbbing warm flesh
against the hardness of his knee. It seemed to her as
if the kiss lasted an eternity, and then, abruptly, he
threw her down on a bed of straw, and Sandra fell
clumsily, her legs sprawling uncontrollably.
Sam smiled to himself as he stared for a moment at the
spreadeagled woman. He caught an enticing gleam of
white panties up between her legs as she fell, and a
shiver of anticipation coursed through him. His eyes
were riveted on the expanse of smooth milky thigh which
be could see clearly, accustomed as he was to the dim
light, and his prick gave an excited spasm.
His mouth was on fire from the passion of their kiss,
and it was all he could do to restrain himself from
pouncing on her and taking her right then and there.
But he had other plans for his boss' hot pants little
wife. He knew right away what was on her mind when he
had seen her standing in the doorway, barely covered in
that scrap of a dress, her face painted like some
street slut. She wants cock, that's what she wants,
even if she's fightin' it, and ol' Sam is only too
ready to oblige the boss' wife!
Sandra lay panting on the ground, her dress still
askew, hardly daring to move. She felt helpless. His
kiss had overwhelmed her, and although she wanted to
get up and run from this dreadful place, she just
couldn't. She quivered as she felt his hands on her
again, feeling, squeezing, caressing, running down the
length of her flattened body, sending coarse shivers of
pleasure rippling through her awakening flesh.
She sucked in her breath as she felt the roughness of
his palm on her naked thigh, felt it slither up the
smooth creamy skin, realized that his fingers were
tugging at the soft flimsy material of her panties. Her
head was spinning, the brandy she had gulped down
taking a loosening carefree effect on her. She found
her hips arching, to help him ease off the thin nylon
panties, and in a daze, she felt them sliding down over
her hips and thighs to her ankles, where they were
discarded in a useless little heap on the hay.
"Mmmmmmmm..." she sighed as she felt his thick fingers
graze against the softness of her palpitating pussy
lips, felt their tips dip against the growing moistness
of her velvet soft folds. She felt his hot breath as he
peered down at her, and then he plunged his middle
finger into the wet, viscous hole of her trembling
cunt, and she jackknifed against him, her legs shooting
out on either side, to allow his invading fingers
deeper and easier access to the mounting furnace of her
tight hot pussy.
His fingers groveled around in the slippery channel of
her cunt, drubbed the hardened knob of her blood-filled
clitoris, searched and probed among the secret wet
crevices and creases of her nubile young vagina. Her
entire body felt aflame, and she was lost in lust,
oblivious of the fact of how lewdly she was sprawled on
the straw, how obscenely she spread her legs to allow
the workman to allow.
It was what she wanted, the feel of male hands on her
body, to feel the rising beat in every pore of her
flesh which signaled the coming of the climax for which
her love-starved body craved. She didn't really care
whose hands were manipulating her crotch, whose fingers
were whirling around inside her buttery-soft cuntal
sheath. She didn't care what happened! All she wanted
was the joyous ecstasy of release, and oh God, she was
going to get it!
Sam smirked down at the twitching, writhing body spread
out below him. God, the high and mighty little bitch is
really getting hot, she's really ready for it now!
Let's see what she thinks of the surprise Uncle Sammy
has for her...
He withdrew his fingers from the excitedly pulsating
lips of her pussy and he heard her gasp with
disappointment.
"Oh please, don't stop now... I'm nearly there..." the
passion-wracked woman sighed piteously.
Sam gave a laughing leer, and then snapped out: "Here,
King!"
Sandra, in the throes of her thwarted orgasm, heard
uncomprehendingly Sam's command, and felt near to tears
from her so nearly won climax. Oh, if only he hadn't
stopped...
Then, it started again! Only this time, it was a thick
wet tongue, warm and curling, that was slavering along
the quivering folds of her passion-inflated pussy,
sending eddies of new pleasure drifting through her.
She felt a momentary stab of horror at the thought of a
tongue licking so intimately up between her open legs,
but it was lost in the wave of pleasure which engulfed
her, and eagerly, she thrust her pelvis upward,
grinding her bare bottom against the straw, bumping in
crude tempo with the frantic licking of the demonic
tongue.
"Oh God Sam, it feels so good, so good she sighed,
unable to control the spasms of ecstasy convulsing her.
She had to have more of it, she had to have that tongue
deeper inside her, had to feel it in every tiny nerve
end of her excitedly flooding pussy...
Savagely, her hands reached down to force his face
further and harder down on the burning fulcrum of her
body...
Instead of Sam's wiry red hair, her hands met with soft
silky fur, long, satin-haired ears...
"OH GOD NOOOO!" Her scream shattered the silence of the
barn as it reverberated throughout the high-ceilinged
shed. Realization dawned, followed by an immediate
retching nausea, on the lust-demented woman. Too late
she remembered Sam's command, "Here, King!" Suffocated
with repulsion, she realized the truth. The dog was
crouching down between her thighs licking her vagina!
Sam was delighted with the progress of his plan. He
derived a perverse thrill from watching the golden
shape crouched between his proud screaming boss' wife's
legs, watching the shivers of ecstasy which still
lingered, despite her almost insane revulsion at the
act being performed on her.
"Attaboy, King!" Sam praised, proud of the trick he had
taught the willing dog.
"For God's sake, Sam, make him stop... please..." the
desperate woman wailed, but even as she did so, new
spasms of unbelievable sensation were twisting her into
incredible knots of sensual fervor. She couldn't help
it! It was too late for the revulsion and horror in her
mind to register with the rebellion in her body. It was
too late!
"OOOOOhhhhhhhh, keep sucking... keep succckkkiiinngg!!"
Her hands dashed down again and entangled themselves in
the golden fur on the dog's head, pressing his nose and
swirling tongue further into the wet, tangled flesh of
her throbbing pussy. She felt the cold wet nose press
against the maddened bulb of her clitoris, felt his
hairy shoulders rub against her sensitive inner thighs.
The dog was licking her pussy, and she was loving it,
and she was going to cum!
"AAAAAAZHHHHHHHHHH... Ohmygod, I'm there... I'm...
cuummmmiiinnnggggg..." Her shrieks rang out, and
desperately she ground her pussy down against the wet,
lubricant soaked snout of the laboring animal, her
thighs closing in his head like a scissors, her
buttocks mashing uncontrollably against the hay, as
wave after hot flushing wave of tremendous pleasure
washed over her, bringing her back again and again to
the shore of calmness, only to toss her once more in a
raging sea of her unleashed desire.
Finally, the cumming was over, and the dog slunk away
from the widespread legs of the exhausted woman, and
padded over to Sam, who gave him a perfunctory pat on
his moistened head.
"Good boy, King," Sam beamed, his own prick a hardened
lump of lust-inflated flesh. His teeth bared in a
sadistic leer, he headed over to where the dazed woman
was panting, trying to get her breathing back to
normal.
"Are you ready for me now, babe?" be rasped, hovering
over her.
"Get away from me!" Sandra screamed with vitriolic
suddenness, her hands reaching up for Sam's face. He
tried to slip to one side, but her nails caught his
cheek, raking it savagely, leaving four red welts of
crimson blood in their wake.
"You little bitch!" Sam spat, "Now, I'm really gonna
teach you a lesson..."
But fear made Sandra agile, and she leaped nimbly to
her feet, heedless of her discarded shoes and panties,
forgetting to pull down her dress, and dashed towards
the doorway, anxious only to escape this lewd monster
who had subjected her to such a debasing ordeal.
But the farm hand, too, was quick, and before she
reached the safety of the doorway, she felt his hand
close viciously over her wrist.
"Oh, leave me alone..." she sobbed helplessly, "let me
go..." She tried to struggle, but it was useless. Sam
was much the stronger of the two, and he pinned her
cruelly against the wall.
"Now, my haughty beauty," he snarled, "you'll have to
make up to me for this," his hand pointing towards his
painful scratches.
"Take your filthy hands off me!" she screamed,
revulsion shuddering through her.
"WAAAGGGHHHHHHH..." she screamed suddenly as she felt
the full weight of his open palm against her face.
Tears sprung to her eyes and cascaded down her face,
stinging her smarting cheek.
"I'm sorry, Sam," she sobbed desperately, "please let
me go."
"Don't forget it's my turn now! King had his chance,"
he snickered, "now it's mine!"
"Oh please Sam, I couldn't take any more..."
Sam's only answer was to wrench her dress higher still,
and run his hands down the quivering curve of her hips.
She trembled under his rough touch and tried to cringe
against the cold cement of the wall, her soft ovoid
buttocks squashing against the hard surface. Terrified,
she heard the whirr of his zipper and then she heard
Sam grunt.
"Look at what I've got for you, bitch!" he spat, and
involuntarily, Sandra's eyes dropped. In the semi-
darkness she could just make out the Herculean erection
of his bulging prick, and she couldn't suppress a gasp.
"Like it, eh?" he snarled, pressing closer, and then,
Sandra felt the slightly moistened head rub against her
thigh, hard and rubbery and relentless. Oh God, help
me... she sobbed inwardly, shrinking helplessly against
the wall.
She felt his hot breath coating her face and then his
knee was forcing itself between her clamped-together
thighs, prying them apart. She tried to hold them
together, but couldn't. She moaned aloud as she felt
the hard rubbery head of his bulbous cock jut against
her quivering vaginal flesh, still moist and tingling
from her so recent ecstatic release. Lewdly, he teased
the tip around the fleshy, blood-swollen outer lips,
nudging her tender membrane unbearably, parting the
softly curling pubic hair and guiding the monstrous
erection inexorably towards the small, trembling
opening to her quaking body.
Sam held his aching prick poised against her sensitive
little cuntal hole, his eyes bulging at the sight of
the frightened, shaking woman in his power. He loved
the feeling of mastery which he had, the knowledge that
he held in his hand the instrument which would he was
sure, subjugate her completely to his will. He couldn't
believe it was really happening at last, that his proud
mistress was forced to bend to his wish. Now, he'd pay
her back for her nose-in-the-air attitude, show her
that he was a man, after all, and not just an automaton
working on the farm. Yes, he'd show her... and with a
brutal snarl, he lurched forward.
"AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH! Oh stop it, please stop it, it
hurts, it hurtttsss..."
Sandra's hips thrashed wildly, trying to dislodge the
huge, hardened rod of driving male flesh which had
succeeded in penetrating her, the hard lipped head
lodged just up inside the softness of her vaginal
passage. The pain of his sudden, splitting entrance
blinded her, and her buttocks were sore and raw from
being forced back against the wall. Desperate, she
grasped the stocky shoulders of the hired hand and
tried to force him back, to give her some release from
the shattering pain, but it was no use. He didn't move,
just surged forward again.
"UGGGHHHnnnnnnnnn..." Sandra sobbed again under the
force of another thick inch being sunk up inside her
tortured cunt. Sam was beside himself with self-
congratulation as he listened to the half impaled wife
of his boss' desperately pleading cries, and encouraged
by her pain, continued to press forward into the
tender, widely stretching walls of her naked pussy.
"NOOOOO!" Sandra wailed again as with a bestial lunge,
he succeeded in sinking every widely-expanded inch of
his pounding prick in her wetly clasping glove-like
interior.
He left his mammoth cock imbedded there for a moment,
the rubbery head tipping against the soft yielding
membrane of her cervix, and then began to withdraw it,
looking gleefully at the tendrils of soft pink skin and
moistened pubic hairs which clung to the hardened pole.
Then he viciously rammed forward again, impaling the
suffering woman as completely as before, feeling the
contracting interior of her vaginal wall throb softly
around his palpitating prick.
He began to fuck in and out of her, trying to establish
a rhythm, each forward thrust lifting the horrified
girl completely off her feet, crushing her tender ass-
cheeks mercilessly against the rough wall, his balls
slapping like a wet towel against her moistened inner
thighs.
Sandra felt mortified beyond imagination. Never had she
felt so debased in her whole life, not even when her
husband had assaulted her anally. Yet, she was fully
aware that she had willingly come here, and had
submitted to his fingering, being aroused to the point
where she no longer had the will to fight when the dog
had started licking her. She had actually reached
release from the animal's frantic licking! And now, she
was being fucked, yes, fucked, liked some two-bit
whore, stood up against the wall, her dress bunched
lewdly around her hips, while this lowly farm hand, her
husband's employee, was pumping like a jack hammer into
her helplessly exposed vagina. God, she couldn't bear
it!
"Hump back, baby. Put some life into that hot little
pussy..." Sam panted as he swung his pelvis
rhythmically, crashing into her like some giant
pendulum, "move that pussy of yours, you little
bitch..."
Sandra was repulsed by his crude words. Her body seemed
to have become immune to his coarse assault, and she no
longer cared what happened to her. She was lost, lost!
Mike didn't care what happened to her, and now Sam,
their own employee, was using her as a receptacle for
his own debased desire.
As the impassioned workman continued to pound into her,
Sandra again began to feel the stirrings of change deep
within her. At first, she couldn't believe it was
happening, but then, after a while, it was undeniable.
Needlepoints of lewdly kindled pleasure were beginning
to pinch her, sending little ripples of delight
coursing through her. She was beginning to enjoy it!
Her rational mind was aghast at the lewd rebellion in
her body, and she tried to quell it, but it was no use.
Her body was reacting in an age-old way, over which she
had no control. She was a woman, and her womanly flesh
was responding to a man's lustfully driving cock inside
her, the way it had from the beginning of time. Her
body and consequently her reactions were out of her
control!
She began to mewl with pleasure through tightly
clenched teeth, unwilling to let her adversary know of
his victory, but he had already sensed her submission
and was jubilant. Her body was more yielding, fighting
less and less against his intrusion, until finally it
was swaying in pagan rhythm with his own fucking, her
hips grinding forward to welcome his massive shaft
deeply up inside her belly, her softly quivering
buttocks pressing hard back against the wall, to draw
out the pleasure of his slow, teasing withdrawals. Oh
Christ, he thought dazedly, this is better than I
thought it would be... the bitch really knows how to
fuck.
Sandra was moaning now with the intensity of her
desire. Every particle of her body was crying out for
satiation, and her pores seemed to open in welcome to
the force of Sam's feverish screwing. Every nerve
ending was trembling with passion, and the ache in her
loins grew with each long, clean stroke of the hired
hand's gigantic prick.
She felt aroused as she never had before. Mike had
never been able to awake her to this degree, and she
had thought that she must forever forget true sexual
arousal as she felt sure it would be. But this crude,
rough and ready farm worker, by the very lewdness of
his actions, had unlocked the key to her responses, and
was eliciting unknown reactions in her. She was
desperate for release, yet she hoped the wonderful
sensations inside her would never cease.
"Mmmmmmmm... Sam, oh it's so nice, sooo nice..." she
gasped, her hands shooting down and clasping his hips,
pulling him closer to her. She felt she couldn't have
enough of him, and her pussy was sucking desperately at
his cock in an attempt to engulf more and more of his
delicious penis up inside it.
Sam was perspiring, his short frame hot and cold in
turn as he fucked wildly into the hungrily squirming
woman. He knew that he couldn't hold out any longer,
and he wanted to, because this was definitely the best
fuck of his life. He wanted to make it last but...
"Oh God woman, grind that ass of yours... I'm...
going... to... CUUUMMMMM! AHHHHH!"
Sam was gyrating like a whiplash, his pelvis crashing
and battering Sandra with renewed strength as he felt
the rumble of his hot boiling sperm deep in the
darkness of his balls and then he felt the headlong
rush of the fomenting seed as it gushed along the pipe
of his bulging prick and rushed out in a frothy
waterfall into the desperately sucking cavern of
Sandra's wildly writhing cunt. From the deep daze of
his cumming, he heard Sandra cry out in an agonized,
delighted tone.
"UUUUUUMMmmmmmmmmm... I'm cumming! I'm cumming! I'm...
AAAAGGGHHHHH!" And her body, too, was tossing like a
gyroscope, a bottle adrift at sea, the only lifeline
being the relentless pole of Sam's battering prick
which continued to shoot incredible spurts of creamy
hotness into her hungrily contracting pussy.
She continued to moan as the rising tide of her orgasm
swept over her like a tidal wave and finally engulfed
her, only it wasn't fearsome as she supposed, only
sweet and heavenly and gentle, bobbing her along on its
crest like a complacent gull, and she was riding the
beautiful white surf, pleased and relaxed in her new
found proficiency, forgetting the reality of being
fucked up against the wall, remembering only the
unbelievable sheets of pleasure which billowed over
her, bathing her with an ecstasy she had never
experienced before.
It was Sam, the hired man, who had initiated her into
the wonderful realm of sun-drenched pleasure, and as
she felt his limp, spent penis slip exhausted from her,
and felt at last the quieting of her own internal
earthquakes, she slithered down onto the softness of
the hay, allowing herself, legs still spread wide, to
drift off into a blissful euphoria, into which Sam, and
only Sam, had given her a ticket of admission.
Chapter 6
=========
"Yes, I have to admit I belong to the 'Ban DDT' camp,"
Jeff McLean drawled as he sipped the Scotch and soda
Sandra had fixed for him. He leaned back comfortably in
the wing chair, and Sandra found herself thinking how
attractive the veterinarian looked, his handsome face
boyish under his mop of dark brown hair.
"I admit it has its drawbacks," Sandra replied
thoughtfully, "but surely its usefulness outweighs any
disadvantages."
She felt curiously elated, a girlish thrill surging
through her as she talked with McLean. He had lingered
in the kitchen after attending to the cows, giving them
their annual Tuberculosis test, and had accepted with
alacrity her offer of a drink. She felt like a new
woman as she talked with him, his comparative urbanity
infusing her with liveliness, and his intelligent
conversation starting the wheels of her own brain
turning slowly.
"Its usefulness!" McLean laughed sardonically, getting
his drink down. "Do you call polluting the land and sea
useful? Not only does DDT destroy fish life, it is also
beginning to poison the phytoplankton in the ocean. Do
you realize what that means?"
"Not exactly," Sandra had to admit, secretly enjoying
his indignation.
"It's from phytoplankton that we get almost 50 per cent
of oxygen replenishment," he explained. "We are on our
way to suffocating ourselves with that damn DDT!"
Sandra took another sip on her drink.
"But what about the wonders DDT has worked with malaria
in Ceylon, for example," she suggested, remembering an
article she had read recently.
"Modern technology is one of the casual factors of the
world's troubles. The universe is a hard task master
and only the fittest should survive. Merely keeping
millions alive so they can live another day with a pain
in their bellies from hunger is doing them no favor!"
"But almost a billion people have been saved from
malaria over the last twenty-five years or so," Sandra
exclaimed. "Should they have been left to die or waste
away, for the sake of a few fish and water plants?"
"Of course not," McLean answered indignantly, "but a
little foresight should have been used. Merely spraying
the Anopheles mosquito isn't the answer; provision in
the way of family planning, agricultural instruction
and so on should have been made to take care of the
extra millions. Instead we are bent on ruining what we
have!" He finished his drink in a long swallow. "You
can see that the subject is really one of my beefs!" he
laughed.
"People should care!" Sandra said carefully. "Living in
the countryside, we tend to forget the problems of the
world because we are so insulated and free from them
all."
"Besides," McLean interrupted, "a beautiful woman like
you shouldn't have to worry about such things!"
Sandra flushed pink with pleasure under his frank
compliment. She did look very attractive, she knew, and
was pleased that the veterinarian had noticed it. She
felt a rush of gratitude to him for being interested in
her mind, also, and felt that even her thoughts and
opinions were beginning to reflect the freedom and
lucidity she was experiencing through her body.
Ever since that morning last week, when Sam had taken
her so harshly in the stable, her life had undergone a
change. The rough workman had unleashed a torrent of
sensual desire in her, which could only be dammed by
his urgent, passionate lovemaking. She had adapted
herself thoroughly to a new regime of wild, unusual sex
out in the barn with Sam, tinged always with a sense of
urgency and illicitness, and she could hardly remember
what it was like before.
Her body never seemed to get enough of him, and he
always succeeded in arousing her to fever pitch, making
her more frenzied, more demanding, more willing each
time. Yes, I'm really a new woman now, she mused as she
rose to fix new drinks. Her hips had a new provocative
swing to them, she knew and she was aware of the vet's
eyes on her enticing buttocks.
She was revitalized by Sam's attentions, his body, his
hands, and she had begun to take a new interest in
herself, discarding her country casuals, and wearing
new slinky type dresses, low cut blouses, curve
clinging pants outfits. She had even begun to pin her
hair up occasionally, even though it wasn't really long
enough, and letting little tendrils fall down
becomingly over her smooth cheeks. She had someone who
cared how she looked now, she reasoned, feeling
younger, more attractive, more wanted than she had for
years.
Mike didn't seem to notice the change in her, or if he
did, he didn't say anything. In fact, he didn't seem to
say much at all lately, and Sandra had felt pronounced
relief when he said curtly that he'd be away for a few
days, buying new stock for the farm. That was two days
ago, and she had enjoyed hours in her husband's bed of
unworried abandon in Sam's arms. Already her brow
darkened at the thought that her husband would be back
the following day.
But her smile brightened again when she brought the
drinks in and handed one to McLean.
"You've certainly changed since I saw you last!" Jeff
smiled, running his eyes admiringly over her pale pink
silk dress, which she had artlessly left unopened to
reveal the tops of her translucent ivory breasts. His
last visit was three months ago, and Sandra remembered
how dowdy and unhappy she'd been.
"For better, or worse?" she quipped brightly.
"Better, of course, much better!" Jeff laughed, "Mike
must be really taking care of you!"
Sandra blushed, and to hide her confusion, enjoined,
"Country air must be good for me!"
"Yep," McLean agreed, "a spell in the country works
wonders for anyone! People change their views on a lot
of things after a rural sojourn."
Sandra took a long swallow on her drink, hoping Jeff
wouldn't notice her discomfiture. Guilt about her
liaison with the farm worker came so suddenly and
abruptly to the fore that she was sure he must suspect
something.
"But you're still a city girl at heart, aren't you,
Sandra?" McLean said, a new note in his voice. Before
Sandra realized, he was leaning over her, her forearms
grabbed tightly in his hands. His breath was warm on
her face and his mouth was looming closer.
"No, stop!" she gasped, struggling to escape his over-
powering grip.
"Hey, what's the matter? I thought you might like a
little city loving after all that pastoral stuff!"
Sandra's mind was reeling. What had come over him?
"Let me go, Jeff!" she said, her voice quietly
authoritative. Anger stirred in McLean's taut body.
"Now wait a minute!" he snapped. "Don't give me any of
that innocent crap! I know you're hot for me - why not
admit it!"
Sandra's heart pounded wildly in her chest. She had
found him attractive, it was true, but that was as far
as it went... wasn't it?
"Please Jeff..." she began.
"You're not so standoffish with Maguire, are you?" he
demanded, rage boiling hot inside him.
Sandra gasped, her face crimsoning. Did he know? Could
he have found out?
"W-what do you... mean?" she whispered, frightened and
tremulous.
"You know what I mean, honey," he rasped, squeezing her
tighter, "and you can give me a little of that pussy of
yours too!"
"H-how dare you?" she stammered, unable to suppress her
irritation.
He knew, that was obvious!
"Listen, baby," he snapped, "I get a taste of that hot
little cunt of yours, or Mike will suddenly find out
all about your little game with Maguire. What would he
say to that?"
Sandra shivered at the change in the man's voice. It
seemed cruder, more ominous. All the polished suavity
was gone from it, and now it was edged with lust. Mike
would kill her if he found out! The thought stood
stolidly in her mind. What can I do?
Suddenly, his mouth bore down on hers, he was pushing
her down on the couch and kissing her in a hard,
bruising oral embrace which reddened her lips and
trapped her breath. Everything vanished from her mind,
fled from the overwhelming power of his kiss, and her
arms reached up and encircled his neck while her lips
strained against his, clinging desperately to them.
Her nipples stiffened under the thin dress, jutting
against his chest, and his hands slipped down and ran
expertly over her back, her hips, her thighs. Her lips
parted to admit his swirling tongue into her hot
orifice, and she quivered under the force of the
passion he was beginning to arouse in her. She felt
resistance fall away from her body, and she felt a mild
protest forming in her brain.
"No, this is wrong," she murmured, feebly trying to
free herself from McLean's unrelenting embrace. "I
can't let another man do it to me!"
"Come on now, honey," he whispered in her ear, "you're
a little more generous with Sam... Mike wouldn't like
you to be stingy with me..."
Mike! He'd tell Mike if she didn't comply... As she
hesitated, she was aware of his hands fumbling at the
buttons of her dress, opening them all the way down...
his hands suddenly on the eager orbs of her throbbing
breasts... her nipples burgeoning hungrily into his
palms... Her eyes dropped involuntarily to the growing
bulge between his legs. She could almost see the
protuberance of his pulsating organ growing before her
eyes, and a stab of longing coursed through her.
Her eyes drank in the sight of his broad, strong
shoulders, his firm sensual torso, his cruel exciting
lips... and then dropped again to the fleshy promontory
between his thighs. Her body began to ache with sudden
intensity - every nerve ending seemed to tremble with
suppressed desire. Oh God, it was no use... her body
was too strong for her... she wanted this man... she
wanted this strong, virile male, just like he wanted
her!
Jeff sensed her acquiescence, his half-closed eyes
mesmerized by the enticing sight of her half naked
body, its shimmering whiteness like fine marble against
the Giorgone-like sheen of her silk dress. His prick
was pulsating fervently against his leg, branding his
flesh with its hot passion. He exulted in his victory
over her, her obvious desire for him.
Sam's right, he mused, she's a hot little bitch! He had
been skeptical when Sam, barely suppressing his
excitement, had blurted out to him the details of his
incredible affair with the young farm wife. He had
imagined that it might be wishful thinking on his part,
but Sandra had seemed to be upset by his references to
the farm worker, and now, she was mewling with excited
desire!
A change certainly had come over her, he thought,
remembering the uncooperative disinterested wife he'd
first met six months ago, and on his subsequent visit
three months later, her shabby, gone-to-seed
appearance. Nevertheless, he'd been interested in what
lay beneath that dowdy exterior, but of course, had
never dreamed of finding out, not until today, of
course! And now, he certainly was going to find out...
Sandra sighed as she felt his mouth close over the
crest of one trembling upright breast, his soft firm
lips enveloping the tender throbbing flesh of her
turgid nipple. She became vibrantly alive under his
touch, excited and aroused as she felt the nearness of
his heated masculine body. She could feel the bloated
strength of his still-encased penis as it pulsed
against her thigh and her loins began a tentative
churning in time to the internal palpitations that were
caressing her desire-ridden flesh.
His mouth was trailing down her body, licking and
kissing her warm, pliant flesh, glorying in her naked
offering to him. His eyes fell lustily over the dark
ebony fleece of her slightly raised pubic mound, and he
felt an impatient tremor spasm through him. Christ,
this is going to be good... he murmured passionately,
his hand fiddling with the fly of his pants.
Sam gripped the edge of the window sill, his eyes
bulging, his nostrils dilated with anger. He had to
stifle a bellow of rage as he stared in disbelief at
what was transpiring in the Peters' livingroom.
Sandra's eyes jumped to the huge, fleshy rod of the
veterinarian's cock as he eased it out of the confines
of his pants. The excitedly hardened head gleamed a
bluish-purple and the lengthy red base seemed to pulse
with hot, angry blood. She felt a quiver of
anticipatory fear mingled with masochistic pleasure as
she continued to stare mesmerized at the lewd
instrument, which McLean was obscenely encouraging to
even greater proportions with crude caresses of his
powerful hands. Unconsciously, she spread her legs a
little wider, arching her pussy up in a primitive
invitation to his waiting cock.
Christ, the fucking little bitch really wants it, Sam
thought viciously, his own prick throbbing inside his
workpants as he pressed against the outside wall, his
face riveted to the glass of the sitting room window.
Jeff's gaze was riveted on the entrancing sight of
Sandra's flexed pussy mound, barely concealing an
enticing gleam of moist pink flesh between the swollen
fleshy outer vaginal lips. He could see the red, lust-
angered knob of her clitoris nestling beneath the crown
of darkly resilient curls, and a faint pulsing drew his
hypnotized gaze to the small, clasping little hole of
her cuntal mouth.
"Oh, Christ, Sandra," he rasped hoarsely, "I'm going to
fuck you now..."
Sandra's blood quickened on hearing his lewd, lust-
inflamed words, and her own yearning magnified on
realizing the extent of his animalistic passion.
She felt him settle between the insides of her
widespread, welcoming thighs, felt the nudge of his
rubbery hard pole against her sensitive inner skin,
felt the first jarring contact of his rigid,
impermeable shaft against the delicate folds of her
waiting cunt.
McLean slowly guided the solid rod of flesh towards the
small, star-shaped cuntal mouth, and poised it there
for a moment, the knobby distended head pressing
lightly against the fragile membrane. Then he rammed
forward with all his might, and sunk his petrified
weapon with a single lurch in the depths of the
flabbergasted woman.
"Oh no, it's too big... it hurts!" Sandra sobbed,
feeling her interior vaginal wall stretch with painful
intensity from the huge mass of granite hard flesh
imbedded inside her.
Sam stared dumbfounded at the spectacle of the skewered
woman, his eyes welded on the sunken shaft barely
protruding from Sandra's ovally stretched vaginal hole.
McLean continued to plow forward, his massive prick
tunneling effortlessly through her widening channel
until the huge head came to rest at the mouth of her
cervix. His hands dipped down and grasped the fleshy
spheres of her satiny buttocks, reveling in their
resilient softness, and then pulled her crotch even
further down on his sunken cock, swiveling her pelvis
around on his hardened shaft, grazing the sensitive
entrance to her womb against his rock hard penis.
Sandra drew in her breath at the novel sensation, dizzy
from the new feelings soaring through her, and then her
busy interior muscles began to contract and squeeze on
the entrapped masculinity within her, wringing gasps of
unexpected pleasure from McLean.
He began to fuck in and out of her, with long,
practiced strokes, sinking his driving prick to the
hilt in her willing cavern, withdrawing it almost
entirely out of her now warmly contracting pussy,
matching thrust for thrust as they bucked and slapped
against each other, their dark curling pubic hairs
brushing together and entwining. Sandra's hair flung
out around her face as she tossed her head from side to
side, and tiny mewls of ecstatic pleasure forced
themselves from between her grinding teeth.
McLean was arousing new sensations in her and her body
was responding with a hedonistic answer of its own. It
was heavenly, writhing about in pagan delight under the
passion-demented body of a man - a man who was depraved
with desire for her! The idea that she had aroused him
to such a fever pitch thrilled her. Her body had
incensed him like this, enflamed him with
uncontrollable lust. Her flesh tingled with the wanton
abandon of it all, being fucked, and fucking back, for
all she was worth. Gone were any lingering thoughts of
husband, of Sam... her body was the master now, its
desire her only duty to satisfy.
Outside the window, Sam felt that he was going to
explode, so intense was the crackling ache in his balls
and the urgent call in his cock. His anger had faded to
excitement as he continued to watch his mistress going
crazy from the fucking the veterinarian, McLean, was
giving her. The lewd sight excited him unnaturally; his
fury with McLean for tricking him giving way to
jealousy as he observed the other man's pumping body,
his ecstatic look of pleasure that coated his face, the
willing, responsive body of Sandra beneath him. It was
all too much for him... he couldn't take it any more...
Sandra was riding the waves of an indescribable joy.
Her body was completely in tune with McLean's; they
were as one, sliding and twisting and rocking together
on the star-studded way to the acme of their desires.
Her body was reaching, striving to achieve the
unrebukable climax which was building up in her, and
which wouldn't be long in coming.
From the back of her mind, Sandra heard a sound which
turned her blood to ice. The door was opening, and
someone was coming into the room!
Terror flooded through her, paralyzing her responses
momentarily, and the icy fingers of fear clutched
grotesquely at her heart. Turning her head slightly,
she could just see through a chink in the tangle of her
and Jeff's bodies, the lower torso of a naked man!
Her eyes widened at the sight of the huge, obese penis
which jutted out obscenely from its base, and there was
something slightly familiar about it. The stranger was
standing stock still, and Sandra blinked her eyes,
wondering for a moment, if it wasn't all just a lewd
mirage.
When she focused again, she had to bite back a blood-
curdling scream. The torso was coming, coming, towards
her, the elongated shaft bobbing obscenely. Nightmarish
terror threatened to send her hurling into
unconsciousness.
Then she felt herself being turned over, to the side,
McLean's arms still grasping her tightly, his tireless
cock still slicing ceaselessly in and out. Oh, God, she
sobbed silently, what is happening. Who is it?
The pounding of bare feet came nearer, and then a
coarse, lust-crazed voice rang out, "For Christ's sake,
McLean, wait for me!"
It was Sam! Her throat was arid and she wanted to jump
up and flee from this ultimate degradation but she was
a prisoner of her own body, still responding heedlessly
to McLean's insistent hammering. Agonized, she felt the
trim smooth ovals of her buttocks being spread apart,
heard Sam's excited gasp as the dark little ring of her
anus came into view, and then she sobbed aloud as she
felt the hard, stubby head of his dancing prick come
into direct contact with the tight little hole. What
was he going to do to her? her mind pleaded in silence,
suddenly terrified by the confrontation with her lover.
The sight of Sandra's round firm buttocks jerking
backward enticingly under McLean's frontal thrusts
egged Sam on to a new plateau of desire, and with an
excited grunt, he pressed his thick forefinger against
the crinkled little sphincter, worming it into the
tightly resisting little passage until he had intruded
as far as the first knuckle.
"Nnnggghhhhhh..." Sandra groaned as she felt the
maddening pain begin in her back passage, and she began
to struggle wildly, twisting her ass around in wild
staccato attempts to dislodge his firmly imbedded
finger. Her feverish flailing seemed to incite McLean
to boiling point, as he continued to fuck heedlessly
into her ravished vagina.
"That's it... move that ass..." he groaned, seemingly
oblivious to the farm hand's entrance.
Sam rotated his finger around inside the tight little
rectum, sinking it deeper inside her, until he suddenly
pulled it out abruptly with a loud plop! which gave
Sandra a momentary feeling of relief.
But it was short-lived, as she felt again the hard,
excruciating pressure of Sam's rock-hard prick head
against the cringing little anal mouth, and as he
continued to jab and pressure the tiny hole, paralyzing
realization of what was going to happen washed over her
with tumultuous force.
"Oh God, please don't, Sam..." she shrieked at the same
time as he lunged forward in a snarling, brutal surge,
and forced the vainly resisting muscle to yield under
his greater strength.
"AAAAARRRGGHHHHH! No! No! Please stop!" she sobbed as
she felt the splitting pain of his brutal anal entry.
"PLEASE STOP, SAM... PLEEASSSSE!" she continued to wail
as he began to inch forward, forcing open the tender
internal membrane with his merciless onslaught.
"Oh God, it hurts! It hurts too much!" the demented
woman implored her lover, but to no avail. By dint of
pure strength, Sam managed to slide forward until the
full length of his lust-driven cock was imbedded in her
back passage. Her whole backside was a sheet of raw
fiery pain which pushed unmercifully up the length of
her spinal column, culminating in a shattering pain in
her brain, which was actually the force of the
knowledge of the utter degradation the two men were
subjecting her to. She was like helpless chattel
between the two of them, a mindless being existing only
for their pleasure, as they double fucked her, one in
front and one in back and filled the air with their
animalistic groans of pleasure.
Sam began to screw slowly in and out of her throbbing
rectum, and she shamefully remembered the similar
assault by her husband, which had been fading into a
bitter memory, and was now recalled with new venom.
Then, slowly but surely, the soft rubbery walls of her
back passage were beginning to widen, thus mercifully
lessening the incredible pain.
When the agonizing pain had finally cleared, Sandra was
sorry it did, because it revealed something which added
more shame and humiliation to her debased ego. She was
beginning to enjoy it, enjoy the lewd anal screwing her
lover was giving her while McLean continued to fuck her
in front. No! No! her mind screamed as she lay
sandwiched between the two sweating male bodies, trying
to will the rising tide of pleasure to ebb. But she
failed.
"Oooohhhhhhhhh..." a low pitched wail of animal-like
pleasure rang out... she couldn't resist the primordial
call of her body any longer. SHE LIKED IT. She liked
being buffeted like a scrap of paper in the wind,
mercilessly battered between the two heaving bodies.
Masochistic ripples of pleasure eddied along her spine
as she began to revel in her complete subjugation to
the two men.
She began to glory in the power they had over her, not
only physical power but their potency which invoked
such responsive delight in her. They were like wild
stallions, luring her, the domestic mare, out to the
bitter-sweet freedom of the plains, and she had
responded, throwing aside the security of suppressed
sensual excitement for the excruciating sweet agony of
a completely freed libido.
"Mmmmmmmmm... oooohhh it's good..." she moaned, arching
her back and flaring her buttocks to receive Sam's
jack-hammer thrusts in back and then flicking forward
to welcome Jeff's pile-driver shaft in front.
"Oooohhh that's it... hurt me! Fuck me harder!" her
voice rang out, raucous in its obscenities, and Sandra
could hardly recognize it as her own. She was in
another world, piloted there by the unbelievable spasms
of pleasure she was receiving in her dual passages, as
the two hard, plunging pricks dove in unison and
surfaced as one, leaving her breathless with
excitement. It was incredible, being fucked like this
by two men at once... far far better than anything she
had ever experienced before. She wanted it to go on
forever!
But her body had climbed to the topmost peak of sensual
ecstasy, and there was nothing left for her but to
tumble down.
Her piercing wail rent the air, and then her body was
spasming uncontrollably, slippery as an eel between the
sandwich of human flesh.
"AAAAARRRRRRRNNNNnnnnnngggggg... I'm cumming! Oh God,
do it harder! Harder! I'm THERE!"
The two men were driven by the whiplash of her lust-
hoarsened voice and they pounded against her, their
driven cocks tormented beyond belief by the dynamic
contractions of her pussy and rectum, until they, too,
could hold out no longer.
Their deep masculine voices sounded out, distorted with
passion, as the floodgates of their lust were loosened,
and the torrents of their bubbling white liquid
scorched from the vats of their testicles along the
pipes of their plunging pricks and poured with
spasmodic ejaculations into the writhing, squirming
twin passages, where they commingled in an effervescent
pool of frothy male sperm in Sandra's womb.
They continued to flood her insides, their reservoir of
semen apparently never-ending, until finally, their
exhausted cocks finally acknowledged defeat, and began
to slip like spent worms from her widely dilated
passages. Gurgling with pleasure, Sandra slipped to the
floor, her body floating on a sea of happiness,
shielded on both sides by her two lovers.
Chapter 7
=========
Sandra was applying nail-polish to her long tapering
nails, when she heard Mike's car pull into the
driveway. She gave a little start, surprised at his
early homecoming. She hadn't really been expecting him
until the morning, and already her mind had been
wandering ahead to the long evening of pleasure she
would experience with Sam.
Her body still tingled from the incredible fucking she
had received from Sam and the veterinarian
simultaneously, just the previous evening, and the wild
three-way act had honed the edge of her sexual appetite
to such a pitch that she thought Sam would never finish
with his chores, and come to her. Damn him, why did he
have to come home early? she complained silently,
putting aside her cosmetics and heading for the
kitchen.
Still, maybe Mike... It was weeks since Mike had made
love to her, and she felt a sudden, urgent longing to
feel his body near hers again, experience him through
the body of the new woman she had become. Her face
brightened as her husband hurried into the kitchen.
"Hello, Sandra," he called, "any coffee ready?" Sandra
looked at him uneasily. He was slumping tiredly in a
chair, his eyes roaming aimlessly around the room. He
didn't even seem to see her!
She handed him a steaming cup, and without even
acknowledging it, he picked up the Vet's report which
was lying on the table.
"That's one good thing anyway!" he muttered, his eyes
roaming over the report.
"What's that?" Sandra asked, puzzled.
"The Vet's report - the cows all passed the TB test -
or did you ever bother to read it?" There was an
ominous coldness in his voice which made Sandra shiver.
Draining his coffee cup, he rose and headed for the
door.
"W-would you care for some dinner? I've got..."
"Later!" he interrupted, "I'd better check on things in
the dairy!"
And before Sandra had a chance to reply, he was gone.
Sandra stood stock-still. She didn't really know what
kind of greeting she had expected from her husband, but
she certainly hadn't anticipated his coldness,
indifference. He didn't care what she was thinking or
what she felt about his return. He just didn't care!
Fear clutched relentlessly at Sandra's pulsing heart.
Was she in danger of losing Mike? Was her marriage
actually dissolving in front of her? Numbly, she tried
to reassure herself. She knew in her heart that the
intoxication of her new found sensual freedom was a
paltry return for the security she had taken for
granted, and which was in imminent danger of toppling!
Did Mike suspect what she had been up to? Anxiety
gnawed at her viscera like a dog at a bone. She sunk
down into a chair, her lovely young body shaking with
convulsive tremors, as she fought a rising wave of
panic.
The minutes ticked by, but Sandra's uneasiness had not
abated. She felt worse than ever, with only herself to
blame. For the first time, she began to realize the
seriousness of her actions, and to wonder about their
consequences. In the back of her mind, she had assumed
that Mike would not find out. She also believed that
nothing that she did would make him turn against her!
Had she been wrong? Was Mike sick and tired of her, her
bitchy, demanding ways, her lack of consideration for
him? But I love him, I still do! her mind protested.
She had to tell him, tell him now, ask for his
forgiveness, get his reassurance that everything was
all right. At the back of her mind was the paralyzing
fear that Sam, unable to restrain himself, would brag
about his conquest...
She knew Mike didn't like her to disturb him at work in
the sheds, but she couldn't wait until he came back. It
might be too late...
Sandra ran lightly across the yard, and headed straight
for the dairy, relieved to find a light there. She let
herself quietly in by the back way, anxious not to
disturb him, and stealthily made her way towards the
far end where the machinery was. She could hear muffled
voices, and silently prayed that Mike wouldn't be angry
at her for disturbing him.
Suddenly, Sandra froze, her blood running cold. She had
to stifle a scream as her husband's voice wafted across
to her.
"Oooohhh Eve darling, I've missed you so much..."
God what were they doing? She had to find out...
Her blood racing, she slipped inside the next to last
stall, and peering between the slats of the wood
partition, her eyes darted restlessly, trying to find
her husband.
Then she saw him!
Her eyes bulged as they focused on a blurred tangle of
naked arms and legs. Mike, her husband and Eve were
sprawled, stark nude, on several sacks of animal feed,
their bodies locked together in a tight, passionate
embrace.
Sandra felt a blood-curdling scream rise in her throat
and she had to cram her knuckles into her mouth to
suppress it, as she saw the young blonde, Eve's, strong
white hands wrapped tightly around Mike's neck, and as
she glimpsed her husband's hungry wet tongue slipping
into the shapely blonde's receptive mouth. Their
twisting, writhing bodies lay only a few feet from
Sandra's horrified gaze, and she could see that Eve's
large gray eyes were beginning to dilate and an
unmistakable smoky haze of passion drifted across them
as Mike slowly caressed her ripe golden body.
Sandra watched, paralyzed with shock. Every nuance on
their faces was distinct to her view; she stood there
breathless, unable to turn her eyes away from the lewd
display of flesh and passion.
She watched as Mike's mouth tore away from the
glistening fullness of Eve's lips and began to trail
hot, wet kisses down her vibrant swan-like neck,
sucking ardently at the tender flesh, leaving a path of
raw, red little patches in his wake. The blonde's hands
were digging desperately into his shoulders and from
her gaping, half-open mouth, it was obvious that she
was already deeply entangled in passionate sensual
excitement.
Sandra was hypnotized by the sight of the eager couple
wallowing in unabashed lust. Her heart felt crushed by
the evidence of her husband's infidelity, but still,
she couldn't tear herself away from the incredible
spectacle. She wanted to run in and separate the
adulterous couple, yet she was immobilized by the
scene. She had never in her life seen anything so
mesmerizing, so compelling. It was strangely,
perversely exciting, and every nerve, every sense in
her body seemed sharpened to extraordinary intensity.
Sandra watched, her eyes bulging, as Eve, her blonde
hair flowing like a sheath of golden hay, stretch free
of the tangle of arms and legs and slowly spread her
perfectly sculptured thighs, revealing the honey-
colored muff of her pubic triangle. Her arms hung
languidly by her sides and her firm full breasts rose
up and down with her frenzied breathing. Sandra could
see the nipples spring to attention, the dark pink buds
jutting up erectly from the crinkled brown aureoles.
She gasped, stung with unbearable jealousy, as Mike
squeezed the ripe flesh as he kissed first one and then
the other buttery globe. He rolled the thickening
nipples between his thumb and forefinger, wringing
little mewls of pleasure from Eve. Then he raised his
head and Sandra could see the livid pink stretch of his
tongue darting out as it flicked down the smooth soft
plane of her lithe body, stopping to poke at the tight,
deeply imbedded little navel, licking it lovingly, as
his hand continued to massage the smooth plane of her
belly.
Sandra's dimming eyes were riveted on the tall tanned
body of her husband as it hovered over the prostrate
girl, and her eyes dropped to the huge, fleshy
protuberance of his cock as it dangled out obscenely
from the blonde pubic thatch. It prodded lewdly at
Eve's parted thighs, and Sandra could see the girl's
hips churning in unmistakable invitation.
"Oh darling, please fuck me now... I want to feel your
beautiful hard cock inside me..." Eve's passion
distorted voice pleaded. Her fingernails were digging
into his muscular back, and Sandra winced at the girl's
lascivious desire.
Sandra had never seen Mike so aroused, so lust-crazed
as he was as he hovered over the pleading girl. A new
wave of jealously swept over her - she had never been
able to arouse him to that extent!
Suddenly, he leaned forward and grasped Eve's quivering
legs and lifted them high up, till they dangled over
his shoulders. He looked down at the lewd spectacle of
her naked open vagina, lust gleaming in his eyes, and
Sandra herself could see the moist, pink furrow
throbbing with excitement. She could see the eager
clasping hole of her vagina, opening and closing,
trying to suck in something to fill her desperate void.
The outer lips were swollen with passion and the red
bulbous tip of her clitoris quivered and pulsed through
the soft blond pubic fuzz.
Mike grasped his long, thick penis in his hand and
guided it towards the enticing pink split, running the
thick burgeoning head deftly along the moistened
crevice, lubricating it in Eve's already flowing
vaginal juices, while she mewled piteously.
"Ob please Mike, do it to me now... please do it to me
now!"
Her lewd words seemed to galvanize Mike into action,
and he suddenly rammed forward and with an explosive
groan, thrust the hard bulbous head into the tiny,
hair-fringed hole between her legs.
"AAAAhhhhhhmmmmmmm..." Eve sighed, and Sandra felt the
first stirrings of anger on hearing the girl's sibilant
moans of pleasure. Her lewd fascination with the
incredible scene had suppressed any anger she might
have felt, but now a slow burning resentment was
seething inside the bewildered wife.
It's just like I thought, she fumed inwardly, he was
interested in that little slut right from the
beginning! Her own deviance from the marital path was
forgotten as rage simmered inside her as she watched
her husband in his joyful rendezvous with the young
blonde milkmaid. No wonder he wasn't interested in me,
she bridled, and to think I was rushing out to
apologize to him, the lousy cheating bastard...
She watched, rage boiling like a furnace within her, as
Mike continued to plow forward, sinking his elongated
shaft all the way into Eve's upraised pelvis.
"Ahhhhnnnngggghhhhh!" she moaned as Mike's desire
hardened cock reached the back of her womb, and his
hairy pendulous balls slammed hard against the soft
silky cushions of her upturned buttocks.
Sandra craned her neck, eager suddenly not to miss a
second of her husband's frenzied fucking of another
woman.
Her rage was receding again, and jealousy was once more
taking its place... envy, and a vicarious sort of
excitement. There was something hypnotic about her
husband's smooth, long strokes and his short, sharp
strokes which evoked a responsive rhythm in her own
loins. Her initial state of shock was wearing off, and
she felt horribly rejected, she was left out of the
paradise which the two lovers were enjoying, and she
was overcome by a feeling of loneliness and rejection.
The obscene magnetism of the violently fucking couple -
her husband and, his mistress - was drawing her into
its lewd spell, and she wanted to run and leave the
scene of adultery, but she couldn't.
She was caught in the web of the lurid act transpiring
a few feet away, and she had to wait to the end, had to
see all of this incredible copulation between her
husband and the young girl.
Suddenly, she froze in her bending forward position,
her heart thumping with terror. Someone was behind her!
She wanted to turn around, discover the intruder, even
scream, but she couldn't! She couldn't let Mike know
that she'd seen him, that she'd been spying on him! Her
flesh crawled as she felt hands behind her, strong,
calloused hands on her thighs, easing up her short
flared skirt, caressing her naked skin. The hands were
tugging on her flimsy white panties, peeling them down
over her full rounded hips... the fingers were probing
at her now nakedly exposed vagina... OH GOD, SHE
COULDN'T STAND IT! She had to turn, stop whoever it
was.
"Ssshhh, it's only me..."
It was Sam! Relief flooded through the terrified wife.
But what was he doing? Sandra wanted to ask him, wanted
him to go away, let her witness alone her husband's
infidelity.
"Aaaaahhhhhhhh..." Sandra was unable to stop herself
moaning as she felt the searing, unexpected contact of
Sam's mouth on her naked pussy! He had ducked under her
skirt, and his face was buried between her thighs!
Oh God, Sandra thought desperately, what's happening?
She had to stop him, stop his disgusting assault on her
genitals, had to pull away.
"Oh Mike, you know how to fuck me... your cock feels so
great in me... Mmmmmmm..."
Sandra's attention was once more crudely arrested by
her rival's lust-enflamed sighs, and she felt her skin
tingle from the girl's obscene words. Her eyes flew to
the bucking, writhing bodies as they slapped wetly
against each other, coated with perspiration.
Dimly, she realized that she was yielding to Sam's
pressure on her thighs, easing them apart. In the daze
of her confusion, she could hear him rasping:
"I'm gonna lick your pussy, suck it and bite that
little clit of yours... make you cum that way while you
watch your husband fuck that li'l blonde..." His lewd
incantation sent excited shivers coursing through her.
Did he think she would allow him to touch her there,
where he had ordered the dog to? Her mind shrank again
from the memory of the oral licking she had received
from Sam's dog, and how she had enjoyed it...
"No, Sam, no..." she whispered feebly, terrified Mike
would hear. But her pleas were lost in the slavering
sound of his tongue as it swept and lapped against her
trembling cuntal split, brushed electrically against
the hard button of her clitoris, prodded the soft
velvety folds of her pussy. Against her will, Sandra
felt the excitement, arousal, enjoyment, building
inside her. She couldn't help it... the hired man's
tongue felt good against her quivering cunt...
His wet mouth continued to stroke the full length of
the moistened pink furrow, his taut voracious tongue
inching its way deeper and deeper into her eager young
pussy. Prickly shoots of pleasure stabbed up into
Sandra's belly, radiating a vivid halo of sexual
excitement from her glowing womb as his crude, direct
sensuality seemed to snap her whole being into lustful
attention.
She had to bite her lips to suppress the sighs of
intense pleasure which were trying to force them into
sound, and she gripped the wooden top of the stall, as
she felt his tongue dip and tease the hot, fiery
opening to her cuntal passage.
Oh God, what's wrong with me, her mind questioned
suddenly as her eyes focused again on the wild pagan
bucking of the grunting couple in front of her. Their
lewd scene had become part of her own blazing,
uncontrollable lust, and her own obscene witnessing of
her husband's adultery was as arousing as the burning,
tingling touch of the man's tongue beneath her skirt.
She had transversed an unfathomable boundary in the
short time since she had worried and fretted alone in
the kitchen when her husband had hurried out.
The last half-hour was a real milestone in her life,
and she knew that she could not retrace her steps
across that boundary. She was watching her husband
fucking another woman while her own cunt was being
sucked by the hired man, and her mode of life till
then, was a thing of the past. She knew, as she
continued to gaze raptly at the panting, jerking
figures of her husband and his mistress, that all her
concepts on what life was all about were
disintegrating... life as she knew it was
disintegrating! The future was indescribable, but she
had charted her own course, and she knew she would
follow it, for better or worse...
Involuntarily, Sandra found her thighs closing in
around Sam's head, trapping his sweating face in the
heat of her hungrily dripping pussy, his fiery red hair
tickling her throbbing cuntal flesh. His tongue was
like a dynamo, washing and slashing and slavering,
teasing the throbbing knob of her clitoris, sucking the
tendrils of her inner pussy lips, plunging stiffly into
the burning hot orifice of her vaginal sheath. Her hot
steaming cunt walls enveloped his intruding organ as it
plunged, contracting, twitching, the engorged lips
glistening from the dribbles of her secretions.
Sam dug his rough fingers into her madly thrashing ass-
cheeks, his tongue working like a jackhammer, probing,
searching, driving into the soft luscious folds,
possessed of a mind of its own.
Mindless, uncontrolled lust shook Sandra and her upper
body was pressed hard and roughly against the wall of
the stall, and she ground her pelvis down on his
imprisoned face. His tongue and lips and hands became a
feverish stampede of lustful, frantic action, licking,
biting, sucking as he groveled greedily in her
desperately writhing cunt, all striving in unison to
uncap the earth-shaking eruption from her passion
tormented body. Her hands tangled in his hair, smashing
his blood-flushed face into the boiling cauldron of her
pussy. Sandra's mind was a wandering panorama of
obscene pictures, in the forefront of which was the
image of her husband and his mistress welded together
in a carnal union of breathtaking passion.
Sandra's glazed eyes swung over to the steaming,
twisting couple. They were careening into a flailing
collision of lust-driven fury... now accelerating...
now finally far beyond any human control as their
passion finally crested...
They were cumming!
Their lewd, hoarse shrieks of release were shatteringly
near, and then began to fade, as Sandra's brain slipped
at last utterly away. She was dissolved in a screaming
rocket of head-long desire as shudder after shudder
convulsed her. She felt the power of her approaching
climax building, expanding deep within her womb.
And then, a tremendous hot flash drove through her.
"Unnnnnggghhh..." she grunted out loud, her mind
dissolving in the intense radiation of pure lust. She
bucked forward, her pelvis engulfing Sam's exhausted,
moist face. Another blinding wave of heat exploded
within her, traveling with gathering speed up the
thrashing length of her spine.
Her head fell back, her mouth hung open.
"OH MY GOD! SAM! SAM!" she shrieked mindlessly, as
another wave struck, and another, until the mounting
shockwaves seemed to gather into a continuous
thunderclap, converging on her lewdly tumbling body.
She opened her mouth again, screaming wildly, oblivious
of everything but the insatiable monster of her lust.
"I'm cumming! I'm cumming! AAARRRGGGhhhhhhhh..."
Her screams seemed to go on forever, echoing throughout
the huge building, rising and falling, dying and rising
from the embers of her hoarseness again like a phoenix,
the full throated release of her passion buoyantly
hurling her about in the momentum of her orgasm like a
matchstick bobbing in the wind of a hurricane.
Blissful peacefulness was beginning to descend on her,
wiping everything away but the glowing aftermath of her
unbelievable release.
Reality intruded with crude brutality as fingers dug
into her shoulder.
"Mmm, oh please don't..." she murmured, her eyes
fluttering open.
Mike was standing over her, still stark naked!
Her eyes widened in terror, her voice tried to call
out, but no sound came.
"You bitch!" he spat, "You fucking little adulterous
slut!"
Chapter 8
=========
Sandra wished the ground would open up and swallow her.
Shame and mortification flooded through her, crimsoning
her downcast face. She was paralyzed with fear, too
terrorized even to pull her skirt down over her still
lewdly splayed thighs. She was painfully, desperately
aware of her husband standing over her, his eyes
traveling over the naked plane of her vagina, over her
white nylon panties so casually discarded, over Sam's
cowering, abject figure.
Unable to stand it any longer, Sandra hid her face in
her hands, and started to sob helplessly, her body
shaking with the force of her weeping. This was the end
of everything! Mike had discovered her with Sam, spying
on him. Sam would tell him everything, about the dog,
about the veterinarian, McLean... Fresh sobs convulsed
her as she thought of his rage, his fury. He'd kill
her!
There was an ominous silence, broken only by her
stifled sobs. Why doesn't Mike say something, do
something? her mind wondered, anything to make this
terrible moment pass. It seemed an eternity since he
had called her those names. Now at least, anger, abuse
would be natural! This silence wasn't.
"Well, Maguire, what are you waiting for?" Mike's
voice, cold and toneless with rage and hatred rang out.
"You're not going to stop now, are you?"
New terror gripped the frightened wife. What did Mike
mean?
"I... uh... I..." Sam mumbled, his face beet red.
"Get on with it!" Mike snapped, and Sandra recoiled
from the edge in his voice.
"W-with what?" Sam mumbled dully.
"You can't leave the little lady lying there waiting,
can you?" Mike sneered, a sarcastic pitch sharpening
his voice.
A new flood of embarrassment washed over Sandra. Oh
God, what punishment was he planning for her?
"No," Sam answered fatuously, his eyes turning to
Sandra's sprawled figure.
"Okay then, let's see what it is that she can't do
without!" Mike jeered.
Sandra couldn't help herself.
"No Mike, please..."
"Shut up, you little whore!" he snapped, his eyes
blazing.
Sandra cringed back against the wall, trying to stand
up straight, but only succeeding in falling against the
bales of straw in the corner.
"What do I have to do?" Sam asked, relieved to find
Peters' anger directed towards his wife.
"I'll tell you what to do!" Mike snarled, "but first
let me get the little lady, sorry, the whore, ready!"
Sandra cowered piteously as Mike approached her, and
shielded her face with her arm. He grabbed her roughly
by the shoulder, and pulled her to her feet. With one
swift pull, he tore away her skirt, leaving her hips
and thighs stark naked. And with a further exertion, he
ripped the buttons of her blouse, tearing it from her
shoulders. Last of all, he snatched away her blouse,
leaving her totally naked.
"Oh God, please don't..." she sobbed, trying to cling
to her husband's arm, trying to elicit some warmth in
him. His only response was to fling her roughly onto
the hay covered floor, where she fell in a disorderly
heap, skinning her elbow against the stall, her body
bruised from the unyielding surface. She wanted to cry,
but couldn't. She could only lie there, a victim of her
husband's mounting fury.
"Eve!" he called imperiously, "come and watch the
show!" Sandra was aware of the young blonde milkmaid,
slinking out of a corner where she had taken refuge.
She was still naked and she looked very young and
frightened, and she flattened herself against the wall,
terrified of what was going on.
"All right, we can begin the show," Mike sneered, "and
by Christ, the leading lady had better give a good
performance!"
Sandra lay prostrate on the floor, unable to feel
anything, conscious only of a desire for the whole
perverted thing to be over with.
"Okay, Maguire, we're waiting for you! Get ready!"
Sam numbly began to undress, lifelessly discarding his
clothes, until he, too, was stark naked, his prick
banging semi-erect, jutting out half-heartedly from a
tuft of reddish hair.
"Now let's think of a name for our show." Mike
continued to jeer, "What about 'Wife turned Whore', or
let me see. What about 'What Happens to a Cheating
Wife'."
There was silence all around.
Unperturbed, Mike snapped, "There's your cue, Maguire!
You're on stage!"
Sandra stared at her husband in disbelief. Was he
really expecting them to go through with this travesty?
Had he gone insane?
Incredulously, Sandra saw Sam shuffling towards her. He
couldn't, he wouldn't touch her in front of Mike!
"Okay, Maguire," Mike's voice rang out again, "spread
the lady's legs wide, real wide!"
Sandra shrank back down into the hay as Sam ambled
nearer, and then she had to stifle a scream as his
hands rested on her ankles.
"No! No!" she screamed, trying to keep her legs
together. But he was too strong for her, and slowly, he
forced her thighs apart, revealing the deep pink cleft
of her trembling pussy. Shame crept like a smothering
blanket over her as she felt the evening air rush in on
her moist pussy. Oh God, I wish I were dead, her mind
sobbed.
"Well, well, look at that!" Mike jeered, his voice
dripping with scorn. "A nice juicy cunt, all wet and
ready! You did a good job earlier, Maguire. Let's hope
you can keep up the good work!"
Sandra wanted to put her hand down to cover her
nakedness, but she was afraid of what Mike might do!
She knew it would be fatal to cross him now, the mood
he was in.
"Now, bitch," her husband spat, "it's your turn! Take
that nice big cock that you're so fond of, and make it
nice and hard, 'cause you don't want a limp prick in
that cunt of yours, now do you?" Sandra felt a retch of
nausea cramp her stomach. She couldn't believe that
this was the man she had married, her husband!
"I'm waiting, slut!" he snapped, edging closer.
Sandra's heart thudded painfully. She was afraid to
appeal to him again. That only seemed to incense him.
But she couldn't, she just couldn't do as he said! But
she had no choice. She trembled at the thought of what
he would do to her if she refused. He'd kill her! Mike
edged even closer, and Sandra made up her mind. She had
to comply! There was no way out!
Her hand was shaking as she reached up and tentatively
slipped her fingers around Sam's awakening prick. The
lewd words seemed to have an exciting effect on the
workman, and his member was already bobbing out,
cleaving the air like a snake, the surface glistening
with the blood of passion. Sandra could feel it
throbbing under her touch, and she sensed that it was
growing in dimension as she held it.
"Put more life into it!" her husband commanded, his
voice perilously near, and Sandra began to move her
fingers slightly, hoping to satisfy his demand.
"Tickle his balls, bitch!" Mike ordered, his voice
shrill, "tickle your lover's balls!"
Numbed with mortification and fear, Sandra obediently
cupped Sam's hairy pendulous balls in her palm and
massaged them gently, feeling the roiling of his sperm
as they gathered in the darkness of his testicles. Her
body ached from soreness and the hard floor, and she
thought she'd pass out before much longer. Faintly, she
hoped for a miracle, that her husband would grow tired
of his game.
"Now, we're ready for the big one! Now, leading lady,
look at what your lover has got for you!"
Sandra forced herself to open her eyes, and they
dropped to the bulging red protuberance a scant foot
away. It was huge and thick and long-much bigger than
she'd ever seen it!
"Is it big enough for you? Is it? Is it?" Mike
shrieked, his face reddening in his excitement and
fury.
"Yes, it is..." Sandra mumbled wearily, sinking back
against the floor. If only it was all over...
"Kneel down in front of your mistress, Maguire!" Mike's
thickened voice rang out again, and the wretched hired
man, torn between fear and mounting desire, obediently
settled himself between Sandra's quivering legs.
"Now slut, this is what you've been waiting for! Take
hold of his prick and lead it towards that starving
little pussy of yours!"
Sandra blanched when she heard her husband's latest
demands. It was too much - she had suffered enough. She
couldn't do it, couldn't degrade herself further, and
in front of Eve, too... Oh, God, what was she to do?
"You heard what I said!" Mike's voice was livid with
rage. It was no use! She had to do it...
Fighting back her tears, Sandra reached down once more
and grasped the rock-hard cock in her hand, and slowly,
began to guide it towards the tiny cringing hole of her
pussy. She rested the hard, bulbous head against the
delicate petal-shaped opening, her breath quickening in
fear.
"All right, Maguire, get ready. I'll tell you when to
go!"
All feeling left Sandra. She was suffering the ultimate
degradation.
And she didn't care. She was beyond any normal emotion.
Her body was left to take the punishment, while her
mind sought refuge in numbness.
"Get ready, get set!" Mike's voice, quivering with
excitement, called out. "One, two, three... GOOO!"
Sam sprang forward on his boss' order, oblivious to
everything but his rising passion and his desire to
appease his employer. He surged forward with brutal
strength, crashing through the soft, unresisting
barrier of her outer cunt lips, slicing through the
tender vaginal sheath like a knife through melted
butter.
"WAAARRRGGGHHHHHHHH..." she sobbed helplessly, her hips
thrashing wildly to escape the skewering pain.
"Oh please stop, it hurts... it hurts meee..."
Her screams were drowned out by Mike's hysterical
laughter.
"That's it, Maguire! Give the bitch a good fucking!"
Sam's grossly inflated penis was like a cast-iron
cudgel splitting her insides, sending shooting pains
ricocheting through her. The hard, smooth head rubbed
irritatingly against the delicate flesh of her cervix,
and she felt that the fragile membrane at the entrance
to her body would tear from the unnatural stretching.
At last, he began to withdraw his lust hardened cock,
grating the inner sheath with its veinous underside,
sending painful shudders rippling through Sandra's
body. The pain obliterated any other feeling, and
dominated her whole being.
"OOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhhhhh..." she wailed again as Sam drove
forward with even greater force, raising her pelvis a
few inches from the ground as he bore into her with
flesh-splitting strength. He began to establish an
arduous rhythm, forcing her strained vaginal passage to
give a little as he began to plow into her.
"Fuck back, you little whore!" Mike screamed, his eyes
dancing with lewd perverted excitement. His eyes were
riveted on the enormous shaft as it plunged in and out
of his wife's aching pussy, and he was enjoying the
spectacle of her debasing pain. His own cock was
standing out like a flagpole, goaded into erection by
the incredible luridness of the act he had instigated.
He was mesmerized by the straining whiteness of his
wife's subjugated body, by the palpitating milkiness of
her breasts, the trembling strength of her thighs.
Sandra was relieved when the pain finally subsided and
Sam's actions took on a regular rhythm. Her body
responded in kind, recognizing the familiar action, and
she felt some of her degrading feelings easing. It
would soon be over...
She couldn't believe it when she felt the first tingle
of excitement - a familiar pinprick of pleasure deep
inside her.
She wanted to quell it, stamp it out, but knew she
couldn't. Her body was responding as it did on the
other occasions when she had been debased and
humiliated... it was responding to a man's penis inside
it, and nothing else!
"Ooooohhhhhhh..." she sighed involuntarily as her hips
almost unconsciously took on a deep sensual churning, a
passionate grind of its own, a direct answer to Sam's
insistent demands. Flushes of heat were rising up her
body, blushing her face, making her mewl with
excitement, causing little beads of perspiration to
break out on her upper lip. Her hips began to grind
upward as Sam plunged downward, and then pressed back
against the softness of the hay as he began to
withdraw, her interior vaginal sinews milking his
blood-filled prick with tight, possessive little
contractions.
Mike ran an excited tongue over his dry lips when he
noticed his wife's excitement, her acquiescence to
Sam's pile-driving cock. She was enjoying the fucking
her lover was giving her, right in front of him, her
own husband! The lewd thought excited him even more.
His eyes were glued on the increasing tempo of the
fucking pair, darting here and there to catch a glimpse
of a bobbing breast, a dipping cock, fleshy cunt lips!
He had forgotten completely about Eve, cringing still
in the dark corner, fearful to show herself. He had
forgotten everything but the presence of his wife and
her lover who were becoming oblivious to him, and the
mounting pressure in his own balls as they sent urgent
messages to his throbbing prick.
Suddenly, he couldn't take it any longer. His cruel,
sadistic trick had backfired - he had engendered an
excitement in the two which was getting the better of
him also... he no longer wished to be just a
director...
Sandra was carried away in the wind of her own
undeniable excitement. She was being fucked by their
hired man again, who had elicited so many wonderful
responses in her before, who had initiated her into
incredible realms of ecstasy, and this time was no
exception.
She had momentarily forgotten about her husband's
initial part in the act, and was aware only of Sam's
body buffeting against her, his thick, lust-hardened
prick slamming into her pelvis, his hard rough hands
kneading the flesh of her hips. Then, suddenly, the
rhythm which was carrying her along on the road to
climax was shattered. A hand was grappling with her
hair, making her squirm with excruciating pain. Her
eyes flew open... and she saw a cock, a long, red,
throbbing cock a scant inch away from her face!
Her eyes riveted on the burgeoning instrument, jutting
out proudly from a forest of blond curls... it was
Mike!
"Open your mouth!" he commanded, his voice laden with
depraved passion. She continued to stare, mesmerized by
the lewd instrument, until it leaped forward and
slipped past her lips in a swift abrupt movement.
Surprised, she found the fleshy hardness of it in her
mouth... a strangely agreeable sensation! Timorously,
her tongue began to swipe the rod of flesh in her
mouth, tasting for the first time the masculine
piquancy of her husband's prick. Shivers of strange
pleasure rippled her skin.
She began to suck gently on the palpitating organ,
caressing it with her lips, nibbling at it with her
teeth. Her tongue darted into the tiny slit at the top,
stretching it mischievously, and then slipped down to
coat the heavy webbed underside with saliva. She was
beginning to like sucking her husband's cock... while
her lover fucked her!
Her hand reached up and cupped the squirming sac of his
scrotum, kneading the fermenting balls, cradling them
in her warm palm. Mike's hands tightened in her hair,
forcing her mouth further down on his throbbing prick,
till the smooth spongy head was pressing against her
larynx, making her cough slightly from the unaccustomed
contact.
Mike was driven to frenzy by his wife's hungry sucking
on his cock. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her
full ovalled lips circling his rock-hard member, and
his hands released their frenetic grip on her hair and
dropped to knead savagely at the smooth orbs of her
breasts.
Sam continued to pump furiously into the gyrating
woman, feeling her body jackknifing against him with
each demonic stroke of his blood-hard prick. His hands
were like eagle's claws on her hips, and his body was
straining every muscle taut as whipcord as he pounded
mercilessly into her.
Sandra was a fiery furnace of excitement and passion.
She had never felt like this before. She loved being
fucked by Sam while she was sucking her own husband's
cock... loved the feeling of Mike's prick plunging far
back into her throat while Sam's rod plundered her
pussy. She was being buffeted by two men, fucked by
both at once, and she reveled in the lewd three-way
act.
She began to suck furiously as she sensed her husband's
imminent release. She could feel his body tense, and
then she felt the rumble of his white-hot sperm along
the tube of his cock, before it spurted in a boiling
stream of frothy white nectar into the sanctuary of her
throat. She swallowed and gulped as it continued to
flow in a thick jet down her burning gullet, and her
cheeks hollowed and filled as she strove to keep up
with the never-ending shower, her lips tightly
convoluted around the pumping cock, so as not to lose a
precious drop of it.
"Keep sucking... keep suckingggg..." Mike to drain
every last drop into his wife's eager gulping throat.
Sam stiffened like a bowstring just then, and his
hoarse guttural cries sounded out as he began to batter
against her like a bulldozer, his heavy pelvis slamming
cruelly against her upraised crotch, squirting jet
after jet of hot white semen into her hungrily churning
belly in a constant river of his pent-up passion.
A feeling of disappointment flickered through her as
her husband's penis, at last spent and limp, slipped
from her mouth, but just then, her own release was
triggered by Sam's frantic pounding into her, and she
felt herself lifted up in the arms of a giant
whirlwind, and spun round and round, until she was
flying by herself in a never-never land of complete
euphoria.
"I'm cumming! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" she chanted,
her body tossing and gyrating like a spinning top,
flailing about under Sam's deep hard thrusts into her.
Shriek after shriek flew past her sperm glistening lips
as she was caught in the throes of spasm after
delicious spasm of indescribable delight, each of which
carried her far beyond the wildest bounds of what she
had experienced before.
At last, she was still, her body still twitching a
little, as her nerve endings surrendered the last
vestiges of their pleasure, and she lay back on the
softness of the sweet smelling hay, beside the panting
body of her husband and the satiated grunting figure of
her lover.
Chapter 9
=========
Sandra's feelings of complete satiation was marred only
by a nagging feeling of animosity... towards Mike. Even
though things had turned out all right in the end, she
couldn't rid herself of the desire for revenge. She
couldn't forget how penitent she'd been when he had
first come home, how she'd followed him out to the
dairy, expressly for apologizing, how she'd discovered
him making love to Eve, and worst of all, how he'd
forced her and Sam into the debasing debacle.
She knew she'd always hold a grudge against him until
she'd laid that ghost to rest. Her body was aching with
a pleasant sort of weariness, and groggily she
staggered to her feet, peering around in the semi-
darkness. Both Sam and Mike were still half-sprawled on
the floor, and Sandra could just make out the whiteness
of Eve's body as she stood in the corner against the
wall. The thought that her husband's mistress had
witnessed her degradation added to her indignation, and
a plan was forming in her lust-depraved mind. Yes, I'll
pay that bastard back... making her way over to where
Eve was standing silently.
***
Mike was afraid to look at Sandra. Afraid, and ashamed,
too. His anger had gotten the better of him, and had
faded with his arousal; now he felt nothing but regret.
He knew he'd gone too far when he'd forced his own
hired hand and his wife to perform in front of him.
He'd no right to do it, he knew now, especially when he
himself had just been fucking Eve. Who was he to throw
stones? For all he knew, catching him and Eve in the
act might have set the ball rolling for his wife and
Maguire. I shouldn't have been so hasty...
Apprehensively, he watched Sandra get up. Where was she
going, he puzzled, and then drew in his breath sharply
when he saw her heading over to where Eve was still
cringing against the wall.
What was she going to do to the girl? he wondered,
tempted to call out and warn Eve. His wife was probably
angry enough for anything, maybe even for attacking the
girl!
"Sandy..." he called softly, but she didn't seem to
hear. Afraid, Mike got to his feet, and hurried over to
where the two women were standing.
Sandra was looking intently at Eve, taking in every
inch of her soft golden curves, feeling a stab of
jealousy on seeing the girl's youthful perfection.
There was a look of abject fear on her face, and her
pale hair, seen in the dim light, made her look
ghostly, a sad apparition.
"Please, it's not my fault!" she whimpered, suddenly
terrified of her employer's wife who was standing
beside her. With relief, Eve saw Mike coming towards
them. He'd protect her, save her from that madwoman...
"Sandra, leave Eve out of this! Mike said
authoritatively, and Sandra threw him a haughty glance.
"No fear!" she scoffed, throwing her head back, "I'm
going to find out just what it is you've been so
interested in!"
Sandra reached out her hand and rested it on the girl's
shoulder, and then began to caress the soft flesh,
dropping lower still until her hand was covering one of
Eve's soft round breasts.
"Sandra, for God's sake..." Mike broke in.
"Mmmm, not bad..." Sandra noted, her hand moving to cup
the other full white orb in her hand. Eve's brown
berry-like nipples leaped into erection at Sandra's
touch and jutted out provocatively against her palm.
Now Sandra was embracing the astonished girl, gathering
her in her arms, pulling her toward her breasts, and
then, Sandra lowered her mouth onto the girl's
quivering lips, and planted them with soft, passionate
kisses.
Sandra could hear Mike's sharp intake of breath and
felt a thrill of pleasure when she realized that her
plan was working. I'll make him sorry yet... she
promised, as she continued to shower hot little kisses
on the surprised girl's lips, neck, throat. Sandra was
actually surprised by how pleasant it was to hold the
other woman in her arms, and was glad that she was so
pretty and soft and appealing. She realized she felt a
sort of sympathy for the girl, a mild desire to comfort
her for what she had to go through.
Mike stared dumbfounded at the two women, their arms
entwined around each other. He couldn't believe it. He
had been sure they were going to come to blows, instead
they were lovingly caressing and kissing each other.
Eve had suddenly come to life under his wife's
attentions and was reciprocating with passionate leech-
like kisses.
Her mouth was closing in on one of Sandra's pink little
nipples, enclosing the hard little knob between her
full ripe lips, sucking on it deliriously. Sandra was
emitting little moans of pleasure as she clung to the
blonde, and Mike had to rub his eyes to make sure he
wasn't seeing things. Sam, too, had joined him, his
mouth agape at the incredible sight.
"Well, I'll be hornswoggled..." he murmured, his eyes
widening as he watched his mistress and the dairymaid
melting together in passionate embrace. He looked
awkwardly at his boss, wondering what to say, but Mike
was looking away embarrassedly, ashamed to look his
employee in the eye. So they both turned their
attention back to the girls...
They had slipped to the floor, golden body fused
against creamy white one, and the two men watched in
disbelief as Sandra began to slide along the ground,
trailing kisses down the length of Eve's body, coming
to rest on the golden triangle between her long slim
legs.
Sandra poised above the yellow thatch of pubic curls
for a moment, and then dipped still lower, and slowly
drew apart the girl's buttery thighs. Her eyes gazed
raptly at the enticing pink slit which appeared before
her, crowned by a golden fleece. She could see the thin
hair-feather outer lips throb slightly and placing a
thumb and forefinger on each soft, tender flange,
gently drew apart the fleshy folds, revealing the moist
pink glory of her delicious young pussy.
The tiny pink tip of her clitoris peeped out from
beneath the flaxen curls, and just below it, the small
rosebud-like opening of her vagina glistened wetly.
Sandra had never seen a woman so close before. It was
all new and strange to her, yet she was driven by she
didn't know what instinct. She had forgotten her
initial desire for revenge; she was enraptured by the
sculptured wonder of the girl's soft, yielding body,
and she was borne along by an inclination which was
getting more clamorous as minutes ticked by.
Slowly, she lowered her face towards the golden
gateway, and drawing out her tongue, ran it along the
full length of the narrow pink aperture.
She felt the young girl draw back from the strange
sensation, but she continued to touch the girl's tender
young flesh with her tongue, tentatively licking and
swiping with her own sensitive organ. Her long slim
fingers were pressing against the tender flesh of the
girl's smooth thighs, and she began to grow more
familiar with the other woman's perfumed young cunt,
sweeping her tongue in long, caressing strokes along
its velvety folds, dipping and probing and drawing out
the ambrosia of her femininity.
She enclosed the turgid little button of her clitoris
in her mouth, fastening it between her teeth, and
titillating it with her tongue, making Eve squirm and
moan with ecstatic pleasure. Sandra's tongue searched
and explored the secret creases and indentations of
Eve's pussy, sending chills of pleasure rippling up and
down her spine, making her grind the golden peak of her
body down on the other woman's feverishly licking
mouth. She was beginning to mewl incessantly, her whole
frame wracked with tiny spasms of pleasure.
Mike just couldn't believe it. The two women were
twisting around on the floor like fish out of water,
and Eve was moaning and sighing under his wife's oral
love-making. He could feel his own prick beginning to
rise again, a new, piercing ache throbbing through it.
He was overcome with desire for his wife, and for his
mistress, and experienced an acute agony which stemmed
from the knowledge that he was excluded. They didn't
need him... they were sensually aroused without him...
He continued to watch astonished as Eve suddenly began
to swivel around, until her head was reaching down for
Sandra's loins. Sandra, realizing what was happening,
languidly spread her thighs, and Mike gasped as he saw
Eve lower her pale oval face between the creamy columns
of his wife's legs. Eve was going to suck his wife's
pussy!
Sandra moaned into Eve's steaming crotch as she felt
the first touch of the girl's cool tongue on her
burning vaginal lips. It felt so soft, so soothing and
she sighed, stretching out her legs as Eve continued to
tease her twirling little tongue along the length of
her hot pussy, soaking up her free-flowing juices,
nibbling the little bud of her rigid clitoris, jabbing
experimentally at the clasping hole of her cunt.
Sandra never knew that kissing and licking a woman's
pussy, and being kissed and sucked by a woman in
return, could be so exciting, and yet so relaxing.
Safe, somehow. She felt instinctively that the girl
wasn't going to do her any harm, and she, in turn,
wished to give Eve pleasure, nice, soothing pleasure.
Their bodies were fused together, dark hair against
soft blonde pubic curls, blonde head against soft dark
pubic curls, the gold and the white blending in a
delicious sinewy streak of smoothly naked feminine
flesh. They licked and sucked and slavered in each
other's pussies, oblivious of the hard breathing, and
unabashed gaping of the two men, completely nonplussed
in their sudden, unexpected exclusion.
The tempo of the rhythmic churning increased, and the
bobbing heads became more frantic in their movements,
and then the men saw that the two bodies became as taut
as plumb-lines, before collapsing in a series of head-
to-toe spasms, which culminated in muffled sighs and
moans, drowned in the steaming softness of the two
twitching cunts.
Sandra felt her body rise and fall like a feather
floating in a gentle breeze, as Eve's tongue whipped
her into achieving a climax unlike any she had before.
She could feel Eve's cuntal walls contract tightly
around her nose and mouth, almost smothering her, and
tugging painfully on her slashing tongue, before
ejecting a warm mist of softly-scented moisture which
bathed her face and signaled the girl's simultaneous
climax. The mistress and wife clung tremulously to each
other, their mutual embraces helping to still the last
quivering vestiges of their orgasms.
Sandra felt as if she were floating on Cloud Nine.
Everything was working out. She had got her revenge on
Mike, while at the same time discovering a new
dimension in sensual excitement which she hadn't
suspected existed. Her latest experience had acted as a
salve for her preceding ordeal, its gentle feminine
satiation the perfect counterpart for the animalistic
satisfaction of the other.
But her peaceful reverie was brought abruptly to an end
as she felt hands once more curving around her
buttocks.
"W-wha..." was all she managed to stammer, before she
found herself being pulled up on all fours. The hands
were kneading the soft pliant flesh of her bottom,
caressing and pummeling it in turns. She winced as she
felt the unmistakable burning shaft of an engorged
penis prodding at her, the hard, mushrooming head
probing obscenely at the tender folds of her pussy half
concealed by the flesh of her thighs.
Casting around in the semi-darkness, she could make out
Sam standing near her, his huge, sturdy penis held
aloft in his hand like some barbaric weapon, his eyes
glinting eerily in the half-light. It was Mike then,
who was positioning himself behind her!
A weird shudder ran through her at the thought that it
was her husband who was prodding her with his giant
weapon, her husband who was poising the rock-hard head
of his prick at the quivering entrance to her still
tingling vagina. He's going to take me from behind, her
mind realized, and then...
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH..." she called out, unable to stop
the shriek from sounding as she felt the first nudging
of his pounding cock as it insinuated itself inside her
hotly trembling cuntal sheath.
"NNNnnnngggghhhhhhhh..." she continued to moan, as it
plowed inexorably on its way, separating the yielding
membrane of her vaginal passage as it advanced into her
depths. With a smack, she felt the dangling weight of
his balls slap against the flattened arcs of her
backside, and then felt the niggling tickle of the hard
round head as it probed the sensitive zone of her womb.
Her husband's hands dug into the soft fleshy cheeks of
her ass, and pulled them even further back, skewering
her even more on his pistoning rod, making her knees
rise up from the ground, burying every single inch of
his weapon in his wife's heated interior.
He held her there in position for a moment, flexing his
prick slightly inside, feeling her internal muscle
throb in joyful answer, before slipping out again,
almost all the way, until just the glossy hardness of
the bulbous head was still imbedded in her tight
passage. Then he rammed forward once more, shaking her
body violently with the force of his entry, making her
breasts jiggle as they hung down from the whiteness of
their moorings.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh... mmmmmm... it's good..." she began
to sigh as he commenced to screw in and out of her with
long, hard, smooth experienced strokes. He was amazed
at the expert, new response in his wife's body, and
tried not to think of who had been her teacher, just
willed himself to enjoy the incredible pleasure that
she had to give.
Sandra continued to screw her backside back on her
husband's oncoming pole of hardened flesh, feeling the
spheres of her ass flaring around the wiry tangle of
his pubic thatch, feeling the hardness of his pelvis as
she swung back against him. For the first time, she was
enjoying, really enjoying, fucking and being fucked by
her husband, relishing his masculine body more than she
had ever done.
Through half-closed eyes, she saw Sam suddenly pounce
on the still prostrate body of Eve, and roughly spread
her legs wide. Sandra felt a sympathetic wince as she
noticed the girl's eyes open wide in initial alarm at
the size of the huge male cock prodding at the
quivering flesh of her tiny pink vaginal slit.
Sam's eyes were bulging with obscene pleasure as he
gazed down at the supine body beneath him, not being
able to believe that she was lying unprotesting under
him. He held his huge palpitating cock there between
the splayed thighs for a moment, and then with a
bestial grunt, charged forward, and sunk it right to
the hilt, in one savage movement, in the astonished
young girl's pussy.
"UUURRRGGGHHHHhhhhhhhhh..." she gasped from the
harshness of the farm worker's entrance into her soft
body. He hesitated just a moment before withdrawing it
again almost completely, and immediately he began to
fuck in and out of her with fast, hungry strokes.
Impatiently, he grasped the girl's slender ankles, and
forced each one back up over his shoulder, revealing
the whole naked plane of her trembling little cunt,
unprotected before his onslaught.
Sandra, enjoying the easy rhythm of her husband's
thrusts into her from behind, leaned forward, eager to
soothe the troubled girl, whose face wore a distinct
look of pain as she bore the savage rapidity of the
workman's instrokes. She began to kiss the agonized
girl, finding her young lips warm and tender against
hers, slipping her tongue past the guardian teeth,
encouraging Eve's dormant tongue into a lewd ecstatic
dance of joy, whipping up a froth of frenzy as they
lashed and swirled and fenced with each other. Her
hands reached down and clasped a golden sphere in each,
titillating the enticing little buds into erect little
knobs which jutted up erectly from the crinkled brown
aureoles.
Sandra continued to kiss and caress her husband's
mistress, while her own lover screwed brutally into
her, and while she herself was being fucked canine-
fashion by her own husband!
Sandra was thrilled by the lewd implications of the
wild four-way act she was involved in. This was even
more incredible than she'd ever imagined... she had
certainly run the gamut of sexual experiences today.
Already her mind was jumping ahead to even more
exciting adventures, more perverse, more lurid... more
pleasurable.
But right now, her body was afire with unbelievable
flames of passion. Her husband's pelvic thrusts grew
more and more frantic and her own churning was more
frenetic as her wet asscheeks slapped against her
husband's pelvis and his hot pounding prick tore into
her with the energy of an electric drill. And the soft
touch of Eve's lips under hers and the delicious feel
of her breasts in her hands added a hundredfold to her
pleasure, as all four raced each other in a wild free-
for-all for the biggest prize of all.
And Sandra herself won! She was the first to cum, and
her body twisted and jerked out of control, throwing
her into the hands of an earth-shattering climax which
shook her like a volcano, sending molten lava flying
over her flesh, electrifying her into new, incredible
spasms of wild, passionate pleasure.
"OH GOD... I'm there..." she sobbed out, as she tossed
and writhed like a captured snake, desperately trying
to milk her husband of his life-giving nectar for which
her tortured sheath cried out. And she succeeded.
"Oh Christ Sandy, fuck back... fuck back, because
I'm... I'm... AAAGGGHHHHHHH..." And he was battering
against her like a mad bull, his huge enraged prick
ejaculating with the strength of a fire extinguisher,
scalding her raw passage with jets of hot fluid which
shot far up into her voraciously accepting womb. Her
thirsting passage greedily drank in all of the warm
offering, begging for more, trying to squeeze every
last drop from his exhausted prick. From the back of
her mind, she was aware of Eve and Sam cumming
simultaneously, their cries hoarse and untamed as they
slapped and pounded against each other in a mutual
demand for release.
All four collapsed together in a wanton, abandoned
heap, arms and legs all akimbo. Sandra was utterly
exhausted, feeling certain she would never again have
the strength to make love again, but Sam and Eve and
her husband all united and proved how wrong she was,
right into the early hours of the morning, when finally
Sandra dropped off into a satiated trance, her mouth
curved into a Mona Lisa smile. "Mmmmm, what a day this
has been..."
Chapter 10
==========
Sandra absently shuffled the application forms around
the crowded desk, pushing aside the big leather bound
Farm Accounts book. Yesterday had been a hectic day for
her, and she was glad to be taking it easy today. Five
interviews she had conducted, starting early in the
morning. Their farm was expanding so they needed
another farm worker, and Sandra was in charge of
selecting an applicant. Not that she minded that job.
It was all part of the new arrangement she and Mike had
come to about the running of the farm, several months
ago.
It seemed like years ago now since that day, which was
a turning point in her life, when she and her husband
and the two hired workers had entwined in an incredible
foursome in the dairy. But that day had been the start
of a whole new way of life for her, and for Mike, too,
Sandra thought, feeling a little twinge of jealousy as
she remembered Sheila, the new redhead who had taken
Eve's place. Although part of the agreement they had
reached was that her husband could have a free hand
with the new student, Sandra couldn't help feeling a
stab of envy at times.
Still, she was well compensated for having to share her
husband with another woman.
Yes, she thought, stretching her long sinuous legs out
under the desk, I've nothing to complain about! Mike
had agreed to her continuing her relationship with Sam,
but she found that he alone couldn't satisfy her
completely and she found herself looking further afield
for satiation. And of course, her neighbors were only
too glad to oblige.
The veterinarian's visit was due next week, and Sandra
felt a tingle of appreciation tickle her groin as she
recalled her last incredible bout with the Vet, when he
had taken her in front and Sam had fucked her anally.
It seemed to her as if this was the way her life had
always been, and she couldn't remember what it was like
before. Her body was the boss - her desire, her passion
governed her completely.
She enjoyed her husband's body more and more, too, and
didn't mind that their relationship had evolved into
one of convenient mutual sexual satisfaction - and
nothing else. Still, it meant she could go on savoring
the offerings of all her neighbors and friends.
She ran her eyes over the resumes of the applicants she
had interviewed yesterday. Two in particular stood out
in her mind, and she knew that the choice lay between
them.
"Mmmm," she murmured, tapping her teeth with her
pencil, "Pablo seems to know a lot about the job, and
is certainly very handsome, but on the other hand, Bill
looks as if he were hung like one of our breeding
bulls..."
The End
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 49