The story of Nancy Leeds, proudly presented herein, is a major achievement in that it throws much-needed light on the manners and morals of the southwestern United States. There should be no compromises in telling a story, but rather the reverse. And the publishers feel that the author has courageously met the high standards of good fiction, without drawbacks, in a way that informs as well as entertains. Nor does he fear being called too specific, inclining as he does to the view that only the exhaustive can be truly interesting.
All the elements are included ranging from wild horse-hunting to group rape, from incest to nymphomania and are set forth in the barren but strikingly beautiful setting of a desert and a large ranch typical of the Southwest. The squeamish reader should stop here if he or she cannot withstand the veracity and power of the tale that unfolds dramatically in the pages of this book.
Also touched upon is the important issue of the seriously imperiled existence of wildlife in America. In this case it is wild horses involved. Except for a few small bands in Nevada, the multitudes of roving herds on the Western Plains have vanished forever. As in other cases involving the extinction of a species, the disappearance of wild horses has created a serious ecological imbalance in our environment.
We are grateful to Mr. Paxton for the care and effort expended in researching the myths and psychological factors he has drawn upon to make this one of the more important literary events of the last decade. He is poet and novelist, critic and historian, man and animal . . . and the graphically exciting scenes to be encountered herein show that he is also a philosopher who has grappled with and clarified some of the more perplexing problems facing our society.
We feel certain that every reader will identify with the artfully presented characters in this novel. For there is something of all of us in Nancy, her father, the Dawsons, and the hermit poet, Frank Summerwell. As presented, we see that their problems and desires are no more and no less unique than our own.
There is a Nancy Leeds living in every city and village in America. Who knows, perhaps there is one living next door or even in your own family.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER I
It was breathlessly hot, another scorcher in the lowlands where Leeds Ranch nestled below the purple and dun-colored peaks of the Guadalupe Mountains. In that palpitant moist heat, dense from the rising damps of the nearby Mescalero River and sweet with the stench of manure in the corrals, even the livestock was listless and moved only enough to swish or shudder at flies. The sky was an off-white, almost gray, and only a few thin, elongated clouds could be seen stretching away to the southwest.
Nancy Leeds leaned lazily against a corner post of the corral her father used only for brood mares, thinking, reflecting happily on the fact that she was home for the summer, for almost three months, and free, free to ride and swim and just be herself again. Not that she disliked school; it was simply that her summers on the ranch, away from the restrictions and madcap pace at the private school, were times she cherished and especially looked forward to with great excitement. If there was one thing she loved more than any other, it was riding out alone to explore the foothills and bathe her nostrils with sage and the sweet-smelling flowers that grew in tiny clusters beside the many natural springs in the area. Sometimes she even stripped off her clothes and took nude sunbaths while her horse grazed on the patches of succulent grass around the springs. Then, she would rise and sit directly in the middle of the icy pool of water, allowing her deliciously rounded young buttocks to turn blue with the cold, until at last she could bear it no longer.
At fourteen, she was already a full-blown beauty, heavy-breasted and small-waisted, her lovely hips curving gently out in a sensual sweep that tapered to the soft whiteness of her shapely thighs. Her attractively freckled face was framed by rich red shoulder-length hair and sported a small pert nose and a lush, rather pouty mouth. In school, the boys made vain attempts to date her, but she was always too involved in her studies, or in reading novels, to be bothered by their adolescent attraction to her. They seemed much too immature to interest her. . . . She had no particular choice, no clear cut idea of what a lover should be, but certainly he would not be one of those pimply squirts at school.
Suddenly it began to rain. Big soft drops splashed down on her, soaking the light shirt and faded jeans she wore, and cooling her off for the first time since she had returned, the day before, to the ranch. The light rain was pleasant and would be perfect to go riding in. She could try out the new stallion her father had given her as a coming-home gift.
She turned, then, and raced for the tack room with a girlish, breast-bouncing gait, her long red hair bobbing up and down as she went. Ten minutes later, she had caught and saddled the young sorrel stud, which she had already named Happy, and was now riding along the narrow stone path that fringed the river bank. About three hundred yards upstream, she urged the stallion into the water where a wide shallow place in the river afforded an ideal spot to cross to the other bank.
When she had made the crossing, she rode awhile along a row of tall bright trees full of trembling light, and she marveled at how the leaves danced lightly in the breeze. It was the way she felt, free and airy, as huge herself as the wide stretch of desert that led up to the foothills of the mountain range and poured away into the distance on either side of her as far as she could see. She rode in silence for twenty minutes or so, then felt Happy begin to snort and breathe heavily as he began the steep ascent of the trail up into a canyon between two ridges. She knew there was a pool another mile in and intended to take a quick dip in the nude, to cool off again, once she got there. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago and it was once again becoming swelteringly hot.
Just as she had thought, the pool was still there when she finally reigned in her mount, a short time later, and dismounted to look around. She smiled as she heard lizards scurrying away in the underbrush, roused from their slumbers by the approach of her footsteps. The pool itself was higher than she had ever seen it in past years at least ten feet deep and a dark cold green. It looked so inviting that she resolved then and there to make good her promise to herself to have a good refreshing soak. She unbuttoned her blouse and jeans, peeling them off eagerly until she stood there in the sun-mottled shade, clad only in brassiere and underpants. Then she reached behind her back and unfastened the hooks of her pale pink bra, her full young breasts spilling free and bouncing a moment from the sudden release. Wriggling out of the garment, the firm high roundness of the ample globes burst into view, the pink nipples hardening at the sudden exposure to the coolish air. Then she leaned over to slip her white nylon panties down over her hips, tugging and pushing at them until they were rolled in thin circles around her ankles. Kicking them free, she laughed and raised her slender arms over her head, reveling in the delightful nakedness of her beautiful, ripe young body.
After a moment's pause, she waded into the water up to her thighs, standing still just long enough to allow her system to absorb the shock. Then she lunged forward with arms out and splashed full length into the pool, shrieking and giggling from the painful jolt of the icy water surrounding her sensitive skin. She dove under and came up a few seconds later, surfacing with a sudden whoosh, then dog-paddled leisurely as the exertions of her limbs warmed her and made her less uncomfortable. She swam back and forth across the short oblong length of the pool, sometimes stopping to float on her back and catch her breath, then tucking up her legs to roll over for another furious sprint to the slick rock wall at the far end of the water. At last, exhausted, she emerged dripping and walked to a smooth, scooped-out boulder where she lay down to bake her face and stomach in the desert sun.
When the rays of the sun grew too much, she rolled over on her side and stared down into the now glassy calm water to watch the reflected clouds drifting slowly. Then she saw something that made her heart pound wildly . . . something she could not believe. On the pool surface there was the mirrored image of a naked man sitting overhead on one of the big rocks behind her. As far as she could tell, he was gazing down at her nude form and moving his hand rapidly up and down between his legs. Good grief, he was actually playing with himself!
Little by little, Nancy eased over on her stomach and peeked up from under her arm in the direction of the rocks where the man must be. She caught sight of him immediately he was sitting perched on the highest of the boulders, not more than thirty feet away. Fear pulsed in her throat as she surveyed his muscular, deeply-tanned body and the thick, glistening male hardness between his legs that he was stroking crazily as he ogled her young bare buttocks and legs. She ached to get up and run to Happy, her stallion, then ride toward home as fast as the stout horse could carry her, but for some reason she was paralyzed and afraid even to breathe loudly enough for her own ears to hear. He seemed almost insane with excitement as he gazed at her, his blond hair long and tousled, fanning out in the breeze as he continued to jerk his hand faster and faster along the huge length of his sex organ. Nancy estimated that he was probably somewhere in his thirties, maybe thirty-five, and he seemed to have a handsome, intelligent face. Now, though, his face was contorting with the effort of his sexual manipulations and she could almost feel his passion building to the point where he would either stop or explode in the hot sun.
Suddenly she heard a small groan erupt from his lips and saw him stiffen, his loins tensing and arching slightly upwards as a thin milky white stream of liquid shot several inches into the air and fell onto the sloping side of the boulder he sat on.
The large hairy testicles dangling beneath his penis seemed to dry up before her very eyes, and she watched, now with fascination, as the towering column of flesh he was holding began to deflate and fall an inch at a time to one side. . . . He had finished whatever it was he had been doing, she could tell, for he rose slowly to his feet and squeezed the now-drooping penis between his thumb and forefingers, causing more of the white stuff to ooze out of the end and fall to the spot on the rock-face where the rest of it was running freely into a crevice about halfway down the side.
What could she possibly do now? And what would he do? she wondered as she watched the stranger make his way down the face of the boulder, obviously intending to come to the spot where she lay. Perhaps if she pretended to be asleep, he would merely go away and not subject her to further embarrassment. As she lay there, listening to the stranger's footsteps draw closer, the pressure of waiting finally became too much for her and she scrambled to her feet. Without even bothering to look behind her, she ran recklessly toward the pool and dove, her firm young body soaring up and out, then falling to slice into the cold spring water with barely a splash. When at last she emerged at the far end of the pool, tossing her head to shake the water from her face and hair, the blonde man was standing next to her clothes, his hands on his hips and a broad smile on his face as he watched her. She could see that he really was handsome, his deeply-tanned body even more muscular and well formed than she had been able to tell at a distance.
"How's the water?" he asked cheerily, his voice husky and resonant with masculinity. His eyes were fiery, full of something strange, laughing, mocking. Nancy had been prepared to order him to leave her alone but the tone of his voice and the way he stared at her, so openly, left her speechless. Besides, she had never seen a full-grown man without any clothes on, and the sight of his now limp but nevertheless huge hanging penis, made her feel something she had never felt before. Finally she said:
"The water's cold . . . I I'd like to get out."
"And you want me to turn my back while you dress, right?" he said matter-of-factly, turning around to stare up at the rocks where he had been while gazing at her earlier. "Okay, you can come out now, but it's pretty silly to worry about not having clothes on . . . I'm naked. . . . Doesn't that bother you?"
"Yes, it embarrasses me," the young girl admitted, still not venturing from the icy water. "Please go away."
"I'll tell you what," the blonde stranger said, turning again to face her as he spoke, "I'll go up on the rock, get my towel and wrap it around me if you'll come out of that damned freezing water and talk awhile. Okay?"
"Okay," Nancy agreed, relieved at the prospect of his covering himself as much as being allowed to safely leave the cold pool without submitting her nudity to his intense, bold eyes. She watched him turn and pick his way slowly up the rock face again, following the same route he had used to come down. When he reached the top, she saw him turn and wave, signalling her with one hand while he used the other to wrap the towel he had retrieved around his waist. Nancy had paddled closer toward her clothes but would not stand and reveal herself until finally he sat down on the rock with his back toward her. Then she rushed out of the pool, snatched up her underwear and outer garments with both hands, and dashed behind a large clump of thick bushes to dress as hurriedly as possible. If only she could crouch low and make it without being seen to her stallion, she could ride out of there like the wind and escape whatever crazy ideas this mysterious man might have. She was working frantically to button the last few buttons of her shirt when she heard his low chuckle not more than a dozen feet from where she was.
"You finished dressing?" the masculine voice asked, a slightly amused tone in it. Before she could answer, he stepped around the cover of foliage she had been using and held up two fingers in the sign for peace. Nancy had seen young students on television using the same peace symbol during marches to demonstrate their feelings about the war in Vietnam, and now she thought it peculiar that this strange, almost naked man should be holding up his fingers in this manner in a desert wilderness.
"What do you want of me?" she asked as she tucked her shirt in the waist of her jeans, her eyes still avoiding his own. She was sorry almost at once when she asked the question, for he shrugged and assumed a distinctly innocent expression on his face, as though she had asked something wrong, something entirely out of order.
"I want to be your friend . . . if you're not afraid to be," he answered slowly, a trace of challenge lighting his quick blue eyes as he gathered the towel around his loins more tightly, the gesture itself a kind of mocking dare. "I've never seen you out here before, but I can guess who are you, you're Mel Leeds's daughter, Nancy, aren't you? I've heard of you in town when I've gone in for supplies. The story was that you're a real little beauty, and you are . . . I can see that they weren't exaggerating."
Nancy flushed and turned half away, pretending to watch Happy as the stud chopped lazily at the tufts of green grass where he was tethered. She was still frightened but also intrigued by this blonde stranger who had been playing with himself as he had gazed down at her nude adolescent body.
"Do you really live out here?" she finally asked, curiosity getting the best of her.
"Yes, Nancy, I do. My name is Frank Summerwell and I'm a sort of hermit poet. About four months ago, I built a shack near here, just over that ridge," he said, pointing to a long purple crest of rock and shrubs to the south, about five hundred yards away, "and I write short stories and articles, to support myself, when I'm not working on poems. . . . Would you like to see my place? I've even got a garden."
"Thank you, but I'd better be getting home," Nancy said uncertainly, intrigued as much as threatened by his offer to show off the cabin. Her mind was still a little fuzzy and she could still sense his eyes burning through her clothes to devour the lush white curves of her body.
"Nonsense, it's early yet, and besides," he urged, "I'd consider it an honor if you'd tell me what you think of an article I've just written about teenage girls. It's for one of the family magazines, a new one, and I'd like your opinion on whether or not it's too bold for parents to handle."
"I'd like to, really, but I think it would be better some other time. It looks stormy again," she said, indicating the blue-black clouds over the Guadalupe Range, "and my dad will skin me if I'm out too long without his knowing where I am."
"Nan, don't worry about those clouds," Frank Summerwell assured her. "They'll blow all the way down to Mexico before they let go with a real storm. Come on."
Feeling out-manned and still curious, Nancy shrugged and turned to walk back to where Happy was grazing. Frank strode along beside her, saying nothing, his white towel yet girding his waist and covering his huge dangling penis and trim buttocks. As they walked along, Nancy leading the stallion by the bridle reins, it was just as Frank had promised it would be a cooling wind rose and began to herd the ominous storm clouds down the sky, south, toward Texas and Mexico. Gradually her fear of the man lessened and they began to chat amicably as they skirted the last of the boulders surrounding the pool. He seemed such a sincere person, a real man, someone she could not help but like even though his age and the memory of his lewd behavior on the rock, troubled and frightened her. What could he possibly want of her, she wondered, and why was she so tempted to find out? He had made no mention whatsoever of his obscene display of lust, earlier, when she had been stretched out, innocently naked, and she certainly wanted to avoid the subject herself. And yet, there was no denying that the very thought of his penis, stiff and gleaming in the sun, excited her, sparking her mind to form lewdly exciting pictures and conclusions about sex that she had never dared form before.
At last they entered a deep brown-stoned canyon and were respectful of the new-born stillness of the area as they plodded along, passing sun-bleached skulls of cattle and occasionally surprising a fat brush snake sunning himself full-length across the trail. It was almost religiously quiet and Nancy found herself experiencing a whole new range of emotions as they made their way toward Frank's cabin. As they reached the other end of the small canyon, the one remaining crescent of clouded sky moved languidly over and beyond the tapering slopes of the Guadalupes. She sucked in her breath involuntarily when she first caught sight of the rustic structure he had described, nestling alone between two red-hued outcroppings of rock where the canyon turned slightly and then finally petered out. It was an imaginatively constructed dwelling, made of carefully chosen rocks which were solidly held in place by hard, sun-dried abode and supported by thick vertical greasewood poles at intervals of two feet. At one side of the little cabin, under a solitary willow tree and next to a vegetable garden comprised of neat rows of beans, tomatoes, green onions, and several varieties of legumes, there was a rough-hewn bench. She decided that, all in all, it did seem a perfect place to live, a kind of peaceful haven, where one could think and write and learn to commune with the desolate desert surroundings. Had she not actually seen the place, she would never have dreamed that so bucolic a setting could exist in the very heart of this harsh, hot country.
"Well, what do you think of it?" Frank asked sincerely, a proud, strangely tender quality in his voice as they approached the cabin. "I built it myself, from the ground up," he went on, not giving Nancy a chance to answer, "and to tell you the truth, I've been happier here than anywhere
I've ever been. At night I spend hours just sitting on that bench, listening to owls and coyotes . . . and sometimes I hear the wild ones, the horses, out there. They whinny and snort and sound like angry thunder when they come down through the canyons. . . . Sometimes I want to run with them, wild and free."
"Wild horses, here in the Guadalupies?" the voluptuous young redhead asked, her head perking up with obvious interest. She had heard of the almost legendary band of wild mustangs, from friends and other ranchers who visited her father, since she was a little girl, and now her pulse quickened at the thought that the herd might really exist. The very idea made her heart soar and suddenly the summer seemed all the more attractively adventurous. If there were really wild ones . . . if they really roamed the range . . . perhaps she would be lucky enough to spot them on one of her rides this summer.
"Have you ever seen them?" she asked, unable to contain her youthful excitement.
"Of course I've seen them," he assured her, his handsome face lighting up with cockiness. "In fact, I've seen them quite a few times within several miles of here. It's an odd bunch. Mostly mares, and even a few geldings strays from nearby ranches. Their leader is a black stud, one of the prettiest pieces of horseflesh you've ever seen. I guess he must kill or drive off the other studs even the ones foaled in the herd."
They continued to discuss the herd a while longer, everything he said further sparking her curiosity, teasing it to further heights. Finally, he took her arm and guided her gently toward the door of the cabin. "Come on," he urged, "I'll show you that article I was talking about. While you're reading it, we'll have a cool glass of wine. I fetched some from my cooling box I keep one in the spring behind the garden just this morning."
Once inside, it took Nancy's eyes a moment to adjust to the dark interior of the room. As he bustled about, opening the wine bottle and setting up cups, she had an opportunity to assess the contents of the structure. There was a lumpy mattress, probably filled with leaves and evergreen boughs, in one corner of the room; one straight-backed chair in front of a fairly large hand-made table; and on the wall over a Coleman stove, she saw a small variety of cooking utensils and a lantern hanging from pegs. A feeling of momentary sympathy came over her as she realized how terribly little the man had to his name. Aside from what she had first seen, there were only a few books and an ancient typewriter, an extra pair of trousers, several shirts, a fuck sack and an axe, all either on or stacked next to the table.
"As you can see, Nancy, I live simply. I don't need much out here. . . . But here," he said, crossing to the table and picking up a thin sheaf of papers, "I want your opinion on this story I told you about."
She accepted the story as well as one of the cups filled three-quarters full with a deep-red wine. Sipping it, she moved to the table and, still standing, began to scan the first page of Frank Summerwell's impressions of modern teenage girls in America. It seemed to be well written, she thought to herself, but she was having a difficult time concentrating on the various considerations and themes in the article. Instead, her mind kept wandering, picturing over and over again the frightening but oddly stimulating spectacle of the blonde man's huge erect penis, how he had slid his hand up and down its awesome length while he had sat on the rock above her, watching her and devouring her nakedness. So that was what men do to themselves, alone, when they are not actually in bed with their wives or girlfriends. . . . Oh yes, she knew about sexual intercourse. Once, about a year ago, her father had taken her aside to explain some of the particulars about sex between wives and husbands, boys and girls. He had even allowed her to witness a number of mating sessions between the prize studs and brood mares on the ranch. After all, he had reasoned, if she planned to have a ranch of her own someday, she should know about breeding stock.
She remembered how violent and dramatic those matings had seemed to her. Her mind could hardly accept that the mares were able to accommodate the gigantic pole-like sex organs of the stallions, and she had pleaded with her father to stop everything, lest the mares be torn apart and ripped inside. Mel Leeds had merely laughed, though, and said that, when she was old enough, she would understand that females, whether humans or horses, enjoyed mating just as intensely as males.
"Hey, what's the matter? Is my article so thought-provoking that you can't get past the third page?" She was startled to hear Frank's voice at her shoulder, coming from less than a foot away. He was still clad in only the towel and his nearness sent an unsettling chill of sensation up her spine.
"Oh goodness, yes, it's very interesting," she lied, her eyes quickly searching the page for something to talk about. "I was just wondering what this word means." She stabbed the page with her finger, indicating a word in one of the last few sentences.
"Let's see," he said, taking a step forward until his bare chest brushed against her shoulder, his right arm slipping casually around her tiny waist to rest loosely on her opposite hip. She was too terrified to move, to even speak, and stood rooted hopelessly to the floor as though her riding boots had been nailed to the spot. Never in her entire life had she been this close to a strange man especially not when he was all but naked and they were alone in the desert. Her upper lip was trembling against her will, and she watched with horror as he moved even closer and placed his finger next to hers on the typewritten page, gently nudging her unsteady hand aside as he spoke:
"Oh, that one. . . . The word is Priapus. It's a Greek word. It means male reproductive power in the form of a god. Say, honey, you don't know much about sex, do you?" he asked, confidently tightening his hold on her willowy waist and pressing his spread hand a little more firmly against the forward portion of her sinuously curving hip. She could feel his warm breath quickening, playing lightly on her cheek and along the graceful line of her white throat. Then, without warning, a shudder seized her as she sensed a subtle jerking movement high on her hip, just about where his loins, with slowly increasing pressure, touched her side.
"No, no I don't," she muttered shakily, aware that he was cautiously inching his body behind her and, as he moved, sliding his other arm around her waist, his hand rubbing softly in a suggestive circular motion. Then his other hand, the one that had been on her hip, began to move the same way, until both of them were palm-flat on her quivering belly, just below the under swell of her lush young breasts. What on earth could she do, she wondered frantically, realizing that he was powerful and could abort any attempt on her part to break away and run. He might be a maniac, a runaway from a mental institution, and if she angered him, he might do her real harm. And yet, in the midst of her panic she sensed a tenderness and understanding in him . . . even though it was obvious that he was more interested in her body than anything else at the moment.
She gave a little cry when at last his hands touched the bottom-most fullness of her ample breasts, and protesting, she strained forward against the edge of the table. This seemed to suit him, though, for he grinned and pushed his muscular body more firmly against her back, the table preventing her from resisting as much. Suddenly his hands reached up to fully cup her agitated breasts, squeezing and kneading them like delicious dough under her flimsy shirt. Nancy could feel the stranger's thick penis swelling and growing, climbing like a hardening rod halfway up her back, the huge base of it grinding into her just above the yielding, symmetrical cleavage at the top of her smooth young buttocks. An unknown mixture of terror and something electric, almost like pleasure, raced through every fiber of her virginal body. She must escape she must break free and ride Happy like the wind out of that canyon. And never come back.
As she writhed, pinioned ever more defenselessly between the cruel table edge and Frank Summerwell's lust-inflamed body, she caught a brief glimpse of the towel that had girdled his hips. It was in a heap on the floor next to her feet, and she knew with a fresh rush of panic that now he was completely naked. Only her clothing separated their bare flesh! The realization sent a flurry of abrupt, almost painfully intense thrills over every atom of her skin, but she fought them with her mind as savagely as though she were using her thoughts like clubs. Her body was betraying her, weakening her, making her feel the strange new sensations that she knew were wrong, evil, and certainly dangerous.
"Oh, please, please, Mr. Summerwell, let me go!" she finally wailed. "Don't you know, I'm only fourteen . . . I'm afraid! You mustn't do this! It's -it's not right!"
"What are you afraid of being turned on?" he taunted, his hot breath now coming in short panting blasts as he slipped both hands like eager eels under her shirt and roughly jerked her bra up over the heaving white globes of her breasts. His fingers found the already unbearably hard nipples and plucked at them, rolling and pinching them as he held her fast with his forearms clamped securely against her ribs. She felt the pink nodules tingle and leap to even greater hardness as tiny arrows of pleasure and pain shot along her quivering nerves. Her breasts pulsed in time with her heartbeat, and she remembered anew that he was completely naked, his rigid, throbbing cock pressing insistently against her back like a column of solid iron. Oh my God, she thought to herself, it was almost impossible not to let go and submit to the shameful manipulations of her body. Never, in all her fourteen innocent years, had she experienced such an overpowering temptation to be truly evil for the sake of pleasure.
As though he had been reading her thoughts, Frank dropped one hand from a breast and with the speed and efficiency of an expert, hiked the back of her shirt up to her shoulder blades, quickly pushing forward again to grind his sweat-moistened stomach and the scorching hot length of his giant cock into the velvety softness of her tensing back. He did not at once return his free hand to her abandoned breast, but worked it between their bodies to pull at the hooks of the now exposed bra strap. When he succeeded in loosening the useless garment, she gasped aloud as she felt the busy hand yank the partially unbuttoned shirt and under-garment off her shoulder, then bend back her arm so that they could be slipped down to her elbow. The remaining buttons on the bottom of her shirt gave, popping off, and she struggled with all her dwindling strength as he pulled the sleeve and shoulder strap over the crook of her arm and finally from the clenched ball of her fist. Suddenly he made a half step back and, with one swift movement, stripped the hanging shirt and bra from her other arm, flaying her upper body of the last vestige of modesty.
She stood there quaking, a sob rising to her throat, as she heard him step back even further. An admiring glint was in his eyes as he examined the half-naked youth's beautiful back, her long roan-red hair cascading over her shoulders almost to the point where her spine disappeared in the furrow that ran down to the uppermost crevice of her buttocks.
"All right, Nancy, turn around," he ordered, but quietly, an unexpected calmness in his deep masculine voice. His tone caught her off balance and she obediently followed his command, her head down so that their eyes would not meet. Frank's eyes drank hungrily from the perfection of the youthful form before him. She was even more lovely up close, her remarkable breasts prematurely full and succulent, the dark pink nipples unusually large, thus all the more exciting, for such a young lass. Jesus, he wanted to fuck her, then and there, and take his fill of her never-before-touched charms. And he was certain he could, too, since she had begun to respond with the unmistakable passion of a highly sexed female. But she was merely a kid, in the throes of pubescence, and had to be handled intelligently and not like some full-blown slut. Another day or two, he decided, and she would be coming to him voluntarily for the bliss of her deflowering.
Waves of confusion, and even a tinge of disappointment, swarmed through and blurred Nancy's brain. In one way, the feeling that he was no longer attacking her was comparable to being rejected, and this was even more humiliating than what she had just been through while pinned against the table. What was wrong with her? she wondered, stooping automatically to retrieve her clothes from the floor while she had the chance. Yet she did not dress right away and continued to stand there, regarding Frank Summerwell's magnificent male body with a look of near regret in her eyes. She saw that his thick, heavily-veined penis was now only semi-hard, jutting out and slightly downward to one side.
"I don't understand what happened today," she breathed, leaning forward to drop the bounteous expanses of her breasts into the bra cups. Reaching behind her, she fastened the hooks but did not move to don her shirt. Somehow it seemed ridiculous to cling so tightly to her modesty now. Twice today, he had seen her breasts once, all of her, though from a distance and moments before he had caressed and rummaged her body. And even though she had been terrified within an inch of her life, she could hardly deny that his invading hands had set her nerves afire with the beginnings of what she guessed would have ultimately been the purest ecstasy. Also, there still burned in her rocking brain the memory of his huge, erect male organ, those sperm-bloated testicles hanging beneath it a memory she would not soon forget. Still, unaccountably, she experienced the sting of rejection, the sense of fear that in his eyes she was not really desirable.
"Listen, Nancy," he began, as though once again interpreting her thoughts, "I want you to know how fond I am of you. You're truly a gorgeous girl practically a woman, except for the fact that no woman is still a virgin and I respect you enough not to force you to . . . to be a real woman." His last words were delivered as he walked around her to pick up a pair of sun-bleached jeans from the small stack of clothes on the floor next to the table. As if to shield her eyes from the sight of his genitalia, he turned away from her to thread his feet through the trouser-legs, at last facing her again when he had finished dressing.
"I like you too, Mr. Summerwell . . . Frank," she blurted, not fully comprehending the words she spoke. Blushing, she added: "But why can't a virgin be a woman, a real woman? I already think of myself as a woman . . . a young woman, yes, but a woman."
"Being a woman isn't just a matter of age or attitude," he explained with an air of patient sagacity. "It takes a man, after all is said and done, to make a woman. Remember that. . . . But I think you'd better be starting home now. I hear the wind rising, and that could mean that there's a sand storm brewing down on the flat country you have to cross."
"Okay, Frank, my father will be worrying about me anyway." She took up her shirt and hastily got into it, not bothering to tuck the tails into her jeans. She wanted only to get away, to think over what had happened, and yet she was also inexplicably reluctant to leave without being certain of his real attitude toward her, woman or not. She bestowed upon him the trace of a smile as she moved toward the door, and it was then that he closed the distance between them with two long strides, snaking his brawny arms around her and drawing her tenderly to his chest. She sighed and arched her back to receive the poignant, lingering kiss he placed directly on her lush vestal lips.
"I'll be seeing you," he called to her as she mounted Happy and pivot-reigned him around to face the canyon exit. Although she neither confirmed nor objected to his assumption that she would return, there was a thoughtful smile on her face as she rode out of sight of the cabin.
Frank had been wise to send her home, she mused as she guided Happy through the final maze of rocks and brush at the bottom of the foothills: there was a windstorm kicking up on the desert. The dunes were beginning to shift in shape and she could not look directly into the wind, for it was salted with stinging sand that made her eyes water, blinding her a little. In the distance, she could see that the sky was murky and yellow off to the right of the trail she would follow back to the ranch. But she was not really alarmed: she had weathered more than one such storm. And besides, her thoughts were mostly still back in the little canyon where, less than an hour ago, she had embarked on the first stages of her apprenticeship as a woman.
CHAPTER 2
A light snore escaped Mel Leeds's lips as Nancy watched him sleeping heavily in the master bedroom of the main ranch house. After her return from the Guadalupe Range, she had tiptoed up to her room, showered and changed into fresh clothes, then gone in search of her father to offer up an alibi for having arrived home so late. Now she was thankful to find him asleep, laughing softly at herself for having forgotten, during the months at school, that it was his habit to nap for an hour or so after lunch. She crept stealthily out of the room and returned to her own, already relishing the opportunity she would have to relive the events of that peculiar day in private.
Back in her room, she undressed again, pausing now and again to view herself in the full-length mirror on the wall next to her vanity table. Not that she was vain or even, up until today, much interested in the feminine attributes of her body; it was simply that now the luscious lines and contours of her young female curves had become important to her through Frank Summerwell's eyes. There was no mistaking that he openly admired her female charms, actually drooled while gazing at her breasts and the rich tantalizing swell of her hips. And for once, looking at herself realistically, she began to understand the attraction her young body had for a man. After all, Frank Summerwell was a man, a real man, handsome and lonely, and she had come to what he must consider was his territory. But most of all, she was disturbed by his remarks on what it took to be a woman. She remembered his words explicitly: that no virgin was really a woman, and he had said that only a man could transform a girl into a woman. There had been a note of contempt in his voice when he had said the word girl, and now she found herself smarting at the thought that he regarded her as a mere girl.
For several months now, she had sensed that she was entering into a new cycle in her life. Her rapidly developing young body was playing tricks on her, subtle tricks, and often she woke in the morning feeling exhausted and with an unexplained moisture between her voluptuous thighs. One night she knew she had dreamed of a sleek black snake. She had been dozing, with no clothes on, under a tree. The snake had slithered soundlessly onto her chest, wakened her, and they had had a conversation followed by kisses and dazed endearments. Then the snake had wound itself in shining coils around her legs, turning its broad head toward her sparsely haired pubic mound, flicking out its crimson forked tongue to tease at her vaginal lips. In the morning she had felt the promise of a new freedom, a mysterious buoyancy, but had not related the feeling to her dream.
Now she re-visualized the man called Frank's naked body as she had seen it that day in the canyon. She thought especially of his enormous penis, of seeing it from a distance, swollen and erect, and of feeling it pressed like a scalding yet rubbery staff against the smoothness of her naked back. In the past she had not possessed this authority over any of her thoughts concerning sex, but now she could recall with exciting clarity every detail of his cock yes, why not call it that? (Mel, her dad, did when he talked about the studs on the ranch) -and the beautiful and lewdly stimulating testicles, like fruit baskets, beneath it. She was actually enjoying these pictures in her mind and feared the intrusion of a single thought or idea which, inserting itself between these images and the image of herself as a proper young lady, might inhibit them, turn them into painful instruments of shame and guilt. Before her death, Nancy's mother had instilled in the pretty, young girl a sense of decorum that, until now, had successfully blocked out any specific imaginings about sex.
Now, however, her imagination was opening up and she was able to drift gradually into sleep, the deep, languorous sleep of limpid sensuality.
* * *
"So you rode up to the Guadalupes today, eh? Well, I'm sure as hell glad you had enough sense to hightail it home before the storm hit," said Mel Leeds to his daughter that evening at dinner. Mel Leeds was a bear of a man, well over six feet, and his every movement, as well as the booming sound of his voice, conveyed an impression of hugeness. Although Nancy had never been really afraid of him, her love of the man was tempered with a solid respect for his sheer size and the authority with which he handled the affairs of the ranch.
"Yes, Daddy, I had a dandy ride. And thanks again for Happy he's just perfect. I love him!" she enthused, smiling happily as she once again thanked her lucky stars for his habit of sleeping after lunch. Then she sat for a moment staring at her empty plate with wide eyes, wondering if she dare tell him about meeting Frank Summerwell at the pool. Her father might question her about the details of the encounter, and she was not certain that she could lie successfully. After a moment, an alternative topic for conversation came to mind the band of wild horses she had discussed with Frank that morning.
"Say, Daddy, do you really believe that there's a herd of wild horses running the Guadalupe Range?" A momentary flash of fear, that he might answer no, passed through her, and suddenly she was sorry that she had broached the subject.
"Well now, love," he answered, "I can't rightly say. Ever since we took over this place, I've been too damned busy keeping the stock fat for market to find out for myself. But Joel Dawson says he's seen them plenty of times from a distance. And that goes for other ranchers in this area. Joel says the herd's a wary bunch, that you can't get within a quarter mile of them. . . . And he's told me they're led by the meanest black bastard of a stallion that you ever saw."
"Did he say the stallion was big?" Nancy asked, her interest rekindling at the thought of the mysterious black horse.
"It's just as I told you, he saw them from pretty far away, so I guess he'd have a hard time telling just how big the bugger was. Chances are, though, that he's scrub size not much bigger than an over-size pony. Mustangs descended from Spanish stock, and they've had a helluva time of it down through the years, being chased by ranchers and mountain lions, and having to graze on burnt-out grass or whatever they could find. But they've learned to be tough and can stand conditions that would kill an ordinary horse in nothing flat. . . .
But how come you're all of a sudden so interested in wild horses? You're supposed to be concernin' yourself with books and the English language. That's why I'm pay in' through the nose to send you to a good school, because you've got your mother's brains and can make sense out of things."
Nancy's bright lovely face lit up with an affectionate smile and she reached across the table to squeeze her father's massive forearm. "How do you know I'm not planning to write a book about wild horses?" she said mockingly, her green eyes ripening with glee at having posed a question that she knew he could not answer. She frequently delighted in drawing him out this way, knowing that his male pride would rear up and cause him to launch lengthy explanations for the questions he asked. This time, however, he merely grunted and leaned forward slightly to stare unflinchingly into her eyes. After what seemed an eternity, his gaze dropped to the taut white material of the blouse stretched to the breaking point by her bulging bosom. She had seen him stare at her that way before, many times since her mother's death, and had never known what to make of it. But this time, so soon after the eventful morning with Frank, the meaning behind his eyes became clear. He was thinking of her sexually!
"Okay, love, you've got me I don't know whether or not you're planning on writing a book. But I can guess that you're not." His gruff voice, normally loud, was quieter and almost quavered with male emotion. "As a matter-of-fact, that black stud might just interest you the way a healthy man interests a healthy woman. . . . That ornery black bastard, with all his mares, might just make you think of yourself as female. Hell, you're old enough to start thinkin' that way. . . . Ain't nothin' wrong with thinkin' of yourself as a woman."
"Daddy!" she flushed, embarrassed and not a little amazed at the possibility that her father might be right. There did seem to be some sort of weird link between her musings about the stallion and whatever notions she had about herself as a female, all of a sudden desirable to men. . . . But she was certainly not foolish enough to think of herself as a mare. Still, there was something, some connection she failed to understand. Since that morning in the dark interior of Frank Summerwell's cabin, she had found it nearly impossible to think of the blonde writer's caresses without soon after thinking of the wild band of horses . . . and particularly of the fierce stallion. Was the horse a kind of sexual symbol in her young, inexperienced mind? . . .
Then, as they sat there in silence, she was shocked to discover that even in the past, when sex seemed the farthest thing from her mind, she had somehow compared her father to the studs she had watched mount and furiously ram their "cocks" into brood mares.
"Daddy, hell!" the big man roared in his accustomed voice, his eyes twinkling and familiar again. "Despite your momma's bein' a lady and all she taught you, you're still female and just as full of natural hankerings as anyone else. I'm only try in' to get you to realize it. It ain't wrong to think about sex . . . and any time you want to come to me . . . to talk about it . . . you can feel free to. You understand?"
"Of course, Daddy, but about the stallion . . . " Her voice trailed off with the uncertainty of what she was going to say next to the towering man across the table.
"Besides that," he barked, "it's no damned secret that you're already equipped with more than enough of what it takes to be a hot little item in the right man's bed. All right, I know this sounds mighty bold to you, but don't be silly and bolt before you stop to mull over what I'm sayin'. . . . If something happens I mean if you happen to get in a dither and land up under some good-lookin' boy for Christ's sake don't get caught and come home in foal. If you're gonna have fun, be careful, that's all."
"Okay, Daddy, if that ever happens, I'll remember what you've said." Then, changing the subject for her own relief, she asked if he would mind if she spent most of the following day riding Happy up in the Guadalupes.
"Sure, go ahead," Mel Leeds said benevolently. "That's what vacations are for. . . . Just be careful of snakes and storms, that's all I ask."
"I'll be careful," she assured. "Who knows, maybe if I ride along quietly and keep in the shadows, I'll catch sight of the wild ones."
"Maybe," he said as he drained off the tankard of beer that he always had with dinner, no matter what the fare. Laughing, he added: "But don't let that black stallion catch you. You never can tell, he might work up. a yen for a pretty girl like you." His statement provoked a shudder in her, a tremor caused as much by a dark fear as by tiny nervous surges of instinctive fascination with her father's warning.
Later, as she prepared for bed, Nancy took extra care at brushing her hair and even spent the better part of an hour manicuring her nails. There was no sense kidding herself: she definitely planned on riding up to that man Frank's cabin the next day. He would probably think that her appearance there was a blatant invitation for more of what had happened that morning. And perhaps he would not be far from wrong; she was not exactly sure of her motives for wanting to see him again. One thing she knew, even if he was over twenty years older than she, and a complete stranger, she could not tolerate his thinking of her as a mere girl!
CHAPTER 3
Everything was going wrong. Nancy had risen at seven o'clock the next morning, showered, dressed in brand new riding clothes, had a hearty breakfast, and had gone out with a high heart to saddle up Happy. On the way to the corral, though, she met one of her father's ranch-hands and learned that most of the riding stock had been spooked by the storm during the night. The high-strung horses had panicked and broken out of the remuda corral as well as several stalls reserved for the family's private mounts. Happy was one of those missing. On top of that, to make matters worse, her father had found her and forbidden her to leave the ranch under any circumstances, even on another mount, until the weather report was available on the local radio station.
It was not until nearly noon, several hours after she had skulked off to her room to read and contemplate her rotten luck, that Mel Leeds knocked on the door to her bedroom and asked if she was presentable.
"Okay, love, don't fret," he grinned as he entered and stopped at the foot of her bed. "The boys brought in most of the horses. Happy's in his stall, and I've heard on the radio that the weather's clear for a few days. So go on out and find your goddamned black stallion, but mind me, if you're not back here before dark, I'll ground your sexy little hind end for the rest of the summer. Is it a deal?"
Jumping up from the bed with an expression of astonished relief, Nancy ran to the big man, hugged him, and flew out the door without a single word.
* * *
The journey across the flat lands and up into the hills had been easy, Nancy thought as she and Happy entered the mouth of the small red canyon. Her heart was thumping crazily in anticipation of facing Frank, and it was all she could manage to keep from turning around to avoid the dreaded confrontation, one she realized could drastically change the course of her life. However, instead of fleeing, she urged Happy into a trot to hasten her arrival and so cut short her anxiety. She rode around the last bend and up to the clearing in front of the cabin with her jaw set, her face as expressionless as that of a truly brave man climbing the steps to a gallows.
Reigning Happy to a stop, she dismounted and looked about the place for some sign of Frank's presence. Good Lord, what, if after all her crazy dread and anticipation, he was not to be found? What if he had decided to wander off for the day? Just then her ears picked up the sound of a typewriter clicking away inside the cabin, a sound that both relieved and frightened her. Checking the last-minute impulse to sneak away and come another time, when she was more self-assured, she strode briskly up to the door and rapped lightly. As there was no response from within, she knocked harder and more insistently. Suddenly the door flew open and there was Frank, dressed in shorts, an expression of surprise on his face changing to obvious pleasure when he recognized her. Saying nothing, he stood back and waved his hand inward in a flourish of invitation.
"I I hope you don't mind my stopping by for a moment," Nancy stammered in embarrassment, her courage suddenly changing to doubt. "I was just riding by." The knowing smile that flooded his face triggered her own smile, and in the next instant they both were bent double with laughter, sharing the unspoken joke. When their chuckles subsided, Frank took her arm and led her to the chair in front of the desk.
"All right, my little desert nymph, sit down and tell me all about where you were going . . . when you just happened to drop by for a minute." He was still beaming widely as he ran his eyes up and down her form, drinking in every curve and swell of her youthful anatomy just as he had the day before.
"To tell you the truth," Nancy giggled, "I wanted to talk over your silly article about teenage girls . . . It's really veddy, veddy serious, you know, but I think it needs some important changes to make it worthwhile to your readers."
"I think you need an important change, Nancy. I think you need to be changed from a girl to a woman. Don't you agree?" he asked, his voice a mixture of spoof and sincerity. She knew what he was talking about, of course, but could not bring herself to openly acknowledge that she knew what he meant. She attempted to divert him by pointing to the typewriter and saying:
"I heard you typing. Are you working on something new? A poem? A short story? . . . Another article?" But he ignored her tactic and held his eyes locked on her lush young form, undressing her with his mind as she squirmed uncomfortably in the crude chair. It was a showdown, she decided, to see if she could hold up a test he had devised. But his facial features were all too convincingly tense, as though they had been drawn tight by wires under the surface of the skin, to permit her to relax in the belief that he was simply exploring the extent of her courage.
"Nancy, it's true, isn't it, that yesterday was the first time you ever saw a man with his cock hard?" He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in, to register fully in the delicious redheaded nymph's mind. Then, lowering his voice an octave, he went on: "And you thought about my cock last night, didn't you, Nancy? You thought of what it would be like to touch it and have it inside you . . . to become a woman."
"Frank Mr. Summerwell you shouldn't . . . you mustn't say such things," she whispered, turning her face away to hide the pink glow of humiliation that she felt coloring her cheeks.
"DIDN'T YOU!? " he insisted, advancing a step.
"Yes . . . yes, I did," she admitted in a barely audible voice, "but I didn't want to . . . I--I couldn't help it. It--it just happened. It was the first time. Yes, you're right, it was something I'd never seen before and yes, I couldn't help but think of what it's really like . . . to touch." She was further humiliated by the admission she had made and wanted somehow to disappear between the narrow cracks in the plank floor. Her mind roiled with regret as she wished she could unsay everything and undo these last two days just be the innocent bookworm she had been back at school, before vacation.
Frank came another step closer and was standing beside the chair, but she was too psychologically beaten to be put on her guard by his nearness. She did not even flinch when he placed his bronzed hand on her shoulder and began to massage it, gently and with sympathetic tenderness. Sensing his softness, she nuzzled her head against his hand and was pleased with its comforting warmth, its strength and the puzzling glow of satisfaction that came from the contact between them.
"You know, honey," Frank said almost matter-of-factly as he moved his big hand slowly from her narrow shoulder to trace his fingertips lightly teasingly over the fragile ivory skin at the base of her slender throat, "I think you came back here today to discover what it is to be a woman. And I'm glad you did, for my own sake, because I've been yearning for a woman . . . especially a delicious young morsel like you. You're lucky, too, that you have someone like me to break you in right. Otherwise, you probably would've gotten your first fucking from some clumsy high school kid . . . some punk who wouldn't know even the basics, let alone the fine points, of fucking."
Nancy winced inwardly at his use of the obscene word, a word not even her father used in front of her. Her mind was ablaze with thoughts that would not focus. And she could not stop the sudden tingling warmth that the ever more daring explorations of his fingertips were creating in the pit of her stomach. His hand had half disappeared down the open vee of her still-buttoned blouse, and now he was inserting two fingers in the deep cleavage between her full creamy breasts. Still seated, she was positioned so that his groin was less than a foot from her face, and she watched, fascinated, as his cock began to swell and jerk to semi-attention under the restraining fabric of his khaki shorts. She could see that a small wet spot at the end of the trapped shaft was beginning to spread out concentrically on the material, mushrooming.
She sat motionless, completely frozen as he unbuttoned her blouse with one hand and reached under her hair with the other, his fingers again playing a light tracing game along the nerves at the top of her spine, causing tiny shivers of delight to run over her back like invisible satin feet. Meanwhile, he deftly peeled the blouse from her shoulders and, with the hand at the back of her neck, pushed her forward so that he could slip the flimsy garment down her arms and off.
"Stand up, honey, I want to kiss you," he said huskily, taking her bare arm to help her to her feet, then crushing her to him for an endless, fevered kiss that flattened and bruised her lips. He was becoming impatient now, she knew, and his cock throbbed like a thick wild nerve against her belly. Her own senses were reeling as well, dangerously close to the edge, the point of no return, her wide-open eyes showing a mixture of feelings fear and humiliation and pleasure. She felt her arms encircle his wonderfully warm, heavily-muscled back, as though they had a will of their own, endorsing their passionate embrace with a burst of strength that she never knew she had.
Finally, long moments later, Frank disengaged himself from her and stepped back, his fingers working frantically at the fly of his shorts. He slid them off his hips and down to his knees, his long, thick prick springing into view and quivering like a wild animal suddenly released from its cage. Nancy uttered a little cry at the sight of the incredibly huge member, her heart skipping several beats as she stared in awe at the menacing pole with its spreading blood-engorged head. She had never seen anything so formidable, had never believed that a man could put anything so thick and long into a woman without killing her. He knew what she was thinking, exactly the same thing other women in his amorous past had thought when they first caught sight of the size of his penis. Bending over, he slipped the shorts over his feet and turned to face her with a lewd grin on his lips, slowly beginning to stroke the heavy uncircumcised foreskin of the hardened rod back and forth. Seeing the shock register on her face, he smiled, obviously enjoying the cruel torment he was subjecting her to.
"What do you think of that, Nancy?" he asked, a faint glint growing in his eyes like a hot burning ember glowing in the fire. "I'll bet your little boyfriends don't have anything like that to run between your legs. . . . Okay, honey, it's time you got undressed so we can get down to business."
Obediently, as though mesmerized, she responded to his command and stepped back without looking to sit in the room's solitary chair. After she had struggled out of her boots and socks, she rose and unzipped the fly of her riding britches, squirming as she tugged them down over her milky symmetrical hips to her ankles, then stepping out of them. She was wearing pale blue panties, bikini size, and he felt his cock lurch to greater tautness when he beheld the faint line of auburn-colored pubic hair running up to a tapering point on her enticingly rounded little tummy. The snaps of her brassiere came next and she heard him mutter faintly as she lowered her hands from her back and shrugged out of the garment and dropped it, her magnificent white breasts bursting free into the open air. He dropped to his knees in front of her as she stood trembling in fear and anticipation above him, hooking his fingers in the elastic waist band of her silk panties and pulling them slowly down over the smooth young curves of her full, rounded buttocks, at last letting the garment drop at her feet like a skimpy, deflated parachute. She was completely naked.
Still trembling, she stood before him like an innocent Aphrodite about to be sacrificed on the altar of love, her flawlessly smooth skin glowing with whiteness in the dim light. Frank remained on his knees in front of her, panting like a bull about to charge toward a conquest. Suddenly he moved forward, grasping her resilient young ass-cheeks with both hands, and she felt his lips pressing wetly into the naked flesh of her stomach. The unexpected hot contact sent chills racing through her and her blood began to burst in her veins like bubbles of oxygen exploding. The surprise of his touch caused her to sway precariously and she automatically reached forward with her hands, locking them in his hair to keep from toppling over. Mistaking this as encouragement, he dropped his mouth to the little hillock of her loins, spreading the sparse young pubic hair with his thumbs and flicking out his tongue to dart into the slightly moistened split of her vagina, the pointed pink tip of his spear coming into electrifying contact with the solid tiny bud of her clitoris.
Then, walking on his knees, he guided her backwards toward the lumpy mattress waiting in the corner. Moving as though floating, she finally felt the edge catch her mid-calf and she sprawled flat on her back, her legs flying open as she fell. He leaped forward and pinned her in that position as she struggled to roll away to the far side of the bed. But he was adamant and clamped his sweating palms against the soft insides of her thighs and held her fast. Legs splayed wide apart and eyes now opened wide in a sudden abject panic, she attempted to scream and plead with him just to do it to her the right way but managed only a dry-throated gurgling sound. She had suddenly changed her mind but was hopelessly trapped, at his mercy now, and she knew that he could do it to her anyway he wanted to. She could see him hunched on all fours down between her wide-spread thighs, grinning up at her between her firm young breasts like a hungry lecher preparing to devour its helpless, captured victim. The pink moist flesh of her naked vagina was exposed and offered up to his leering face like an offering to the gods. She lay petrified on the mattress, her heart beating like an engine out of control, as she watched his tongue slowly circling his lips in greedy anticipation of the naked feast spread before him. Even in her fear of the perversion he was committing, Nancy was amazed at the dramatic satanic change that had come over the man. He had changed from a gentle, considerate man to a hungry beast in less than five minutes.
Her thoughts still muddled, she felt him place his palms flat against the inner softness of her thighs, his thumbs resting on the tender fleshy flanges of her cunt. With a slow torturing outward movement, he drew the moist, now slightly pulsating lips apart and submitted the wet pink slit to the mercy of his gaze. He watched it greedily for a moment and then with a low groan, dropped his head and buried the full length of his long slippery tongue like an intrusive snake into the warm confines of her outer pussy walls. She bucked upwards, a girlish moan escaping from deep in her chest. Her buttocks ground down into the mattress as she tried to elude the depraved assault on the secret place down between her open legs.
"Oooooh, pleeease! Ooooh!" she whimpered pitifully as he wormed his searing tongue more and more boldly and ferociously into her tiny, excitedly quivering vaginal mouth. She had lifted her head up off the mattress and was peering down between her breasts and watching him in astonishment and disbelief, her adolescent mind unable to fully fathom the deliciously sensuous feelings rippling through her virginal body. And still his head rocked wildly up and down as he licked and sucked at her defensively cringing young cunt, tasting the rising female moisture that was beginning to mix with his own saliva and with the perspiration trickling onto her pubic triangle from his face.
"God no, it can't be happening like this," she groaned over and over to herself in wonder and humiliation, her head falling back on the mattress and flailing helplessly from side to side as his tongue flicked in and out of the involuntarily dilating lips of her hair-lined pussy. Yet, despite her horror and disgust at the terrible things being done to her exposed genitals, sudden wisps of shameful pleasure began to rise in her sensitive nerves, just as before when he had violated the privacy of her body. Her arms lay tensed at her sides as her white, naked young breasts began to quiver from the buffeting of his head up between her open thighs. His hands climbed up over the soft white flatness of her belly and harshly seized the cream-white flesh of the twin bulges, his fingers rolling the pebble-hard nipples between them in unrelenting fury. As his mouth and tongue worked maddeningly in wet determination at the virginal tightness of her cunt, his eyes remained opened wide, watching with demon-like delight the humiliating contortions of her face above the deep valley of her breasts.
Nancy lay paralyzed in defenseless submission to the ravenous outrages he was subjecting her naked loins to. There was nothing she could do, and he was defiling her as she had never thought possible, humiliating her beyond her wildest imagination. She had heard only in giggling whispers of this before and felt certain that her soul was forever soiled by the horrible, perverted act. Still, though, she was losing the battle she was waging with her mind against the traitorous sensations of pleasure that, more and more, were possessing her. She was catching fire, as if somewhere an invisible burning glass had been playing on her without her being aware. Her cheeks and the area just below her throat were rosy, as though touched with rouge, and gave her an inflamed look which hardly matched the glazed, unseeing character of her eyes. As new waves of pleasure washed through her, she moaned, stretching and placing her arms behind her head, pushing back the helmet of red hair which was lit by a watery shaft of light streaming in the window.
Frank's eyes were still fastened on her shamefully contorted face as he continued the torturing thrusts of his tongue into her vagina.
Chuckling like a demented devil, he brought his hands down from her breasts and pushed them under the backs of her knees, his wide shoulders and upper arms prying her legs even further apart. He lifted and pushed them up and over her body so that the kneecaps were crushed into her breasts, exposing the entire flat plane of her naked loins to his lust-mad eyes. This would surprise the little bitch, he grinned to himself, and flicked out the end of his tongue into the tightly-puckered hole of her anus nestling just below the moist cuntal opening.
"Oh God, no, no, don't! Noooo!" she begged, trying desperately to wiggle her buttocks away from the hot invading tongue licking without mercy at her asshole. But he continued the lewd attack, not hearing, not caring as he stabbed into the elastically contracting rectal passage. Nancy was out of her mind, fighting and yet reacting to the delicious growth of pleasure caused by the unnatural invasion, her buttocks screwing back against her will at the darting tongue. Suddenly nothing else counted, nothing but the beautiful spasms of ecstasy that made her jerk and writhe like some wanton slut aching to get her fill of sex.
"Okay, honey, now it's time to make you a real woman," he rasped, climbing hurriedly up to hover over her prostrate form, grinning obscenely at her as he reached out with both hands and once more grasped her heaving tits, using them like handles to lever himself all the way up onto the crude bed.
Then, removing one hand, he reached down between her legs and felt the soft protecting folds of delicate young pussy flesh surrounding her vagina. His fingers searched almost patiently for a moment, and then found their velvety quarry. She flinched at his initial touch, the soft resilient cheeks of her buttocks hardening and clenching tightly together, thus imprisoning his hand between her thighs. Frank swore and pushed his hand forward to break the viselike lock that her thighs had on him, giving one last rude push with his forearm.
She felt the last of her strength, born of sudden fear and desperation, give way. She trembled uncontrollably, biting her lip in a vain attempt to drown out the pain as his finger wormed its way into the now wet and open cuntal entrance. The finger moved around inside her in steadily widening circles, inching deeper and deeper into her. Finally, with a slight pop of the thin membrane of her maidenhead, he slipped into her all the way past the second knuckle. She opened her mouth to scream from the flash of pain, but nothing came. Instead, she groaned exhaustedly, jerking her head to one side on the mattress and closing her eyes to escape his leering gaze. She was surprised that the pain was already ebbing away and she felt inclined to protest the teasing cruelties he was heaping upon her helpless body.
She was even more amazed when she unquestioningly followed his orders to open her legs wider apart. All this was unreal it was a dream, a nightmare of carnality, she thought as she opened her eyes cautiously to watch him take his great prick and place the distended head at the tiny, moist pink mouth of her pussy lips. Oh my God, she cringed, it was too big! He would never fit! She would be split up the middle, ruined!
"Hold on, baby, I'll try to take it easy," he comforted, the maniacal sneer still on his face as he began to slowly rotate the cock-head around the tiny, bearded portal of her cunt, parting the sparse young pubic hair to grant himself easier access. Then, with a gentleness she did not expect, he began to apply pressure, the soft rubbery flesh cunt lips spreading easily at first as the tip of the huge cock barely penetrated her. Again, he pressed forward, slowly, gently against the warm fleshy resistance, until she felt the first pangs of excruciating pain searing through her helplessly spread body. She nearly lost all consciousness as she experienced the agonizing pressure, building, building. And then another inch sank in, and then another, cruelly stretching the tight rubbery opening until she was convinced that she would die from the pain.
Suddenly he thrust his hips forward, uncaring, sending his long, thick glistening rod sliding into her tight little cunt with a roaring anger, pushing the soft resisting flesh of her vaginal walls in rippling waves before it. It drove deeply into her, not stopping until his bloated balls smacked like a resounding gunshot against the upturned cheeks of her naked ass. She was left gasping for breath, enough to scream, enough to die. Her eyes opened wide as did her mouth, her face now bloodless as she suffered beneath this monster of a man.
"Aaaaagggghhh! Ooooh Gooood, nooooo!" she screamed at last, feeling certain that she was dying, her no longer innocent cunt ripped into what must be a thousand shreds. She had never been so filled by anything in her life . . . nothing had ever been such torture.
He lay still for a moment, soaking the entire length of his massive cock in the moist, ravaged channel. She also lay immobile, hoping that her stillness would alleviate the pain. She could feel every tiny ridge of flesh on his penis, and cried out when he flexed it inside her, her brain a seething mass of white-hot fire and incoherency. Reflexively, she tensed her inner thigh muscles tightly together in an attempt to ease the abusive invasion of the big prick, but the throb and contraction of her pussy walls served only to taunt the probing shaft more and he pulled her closer to him, sinking the horrible thing even deeper in her belly. She could feel the blunt hard head nudging against her cervix, sending out unwanted jolts of electric warmth to her womb and up into the nerve-endings all over her body. Again he flexed the thick knob at the end of his buried cock, this time withdrawing it halfway from her vagina, causing her to utter a choking sound as her hot cunt clenched defensively around the hardened male pole. Gradually he eased it forward again, then out, lengthening the stroke this time. And then she felt him begin a steady pumping motion, all the way in and almost all the way out, the now thinly-stretched cuntal lips pulling out nearly two inches on the back-stroke, then virtually submerging inside her own cunt as they clung to the ramming cock on the in-stroke.
He knew now that she would soon be on the verge of surrender; he knew that even she realized that she could not escape the inevitable. She was his slave, this fourteen-year-old girl who had dared to give in to her curiosity and had come back to his cabin to play with fire.
Glancing down at the granite-hard rod filling her to the bursting point, he saw the traces of bright hymeneal blood blending with her cuntal secretions and shining like victory on the visible portion of his cock as he withdrew it in preparation for another lunge into her dilated young pussy hole. Yes, now she knew how foolish it was to play games with a real man, especially a lonely, womanless man.
Nancy's body began to react differently to the pummeling, the pain lessening with each smack of the softness of his hair-covered balls against her naked buttocks. There was no longer any reason to fight the lewd feelings of desire coursing through her veins. She had lost in her struggle against the obscene sensations, and even the thought of her total submission sent fresh thrills through her as she basked in the rhythm of Frank Summerwell's lust-hardened cock skewering into her without mercy. Her whole body writhed and twitched beneath him. He was breathing faster, gulping for air, as the tempo of his thrusts increased to that of a maniacal frenzy, his heavy-lidded eyes filmed over with the force of his sexual transport. The insanity of animal lust raged like a tornado in his slamming groin and he too was aware of nothing else in the world but the fact that a beautiful, full-bodied teenage girl was responding to his fucking, writhing and turning in ecstasy under him. Spurred on by Nancy's pitching body and the way she had begun to kick with her heels against his back, he dug more deeply into her, pinning her flatter to the mattress and restricting her movements until she thought she would go thoroughly mad unless she could move with him as freely as she wanted.
With his every solid forward lunge now, he jarred her entire body, pushing it ahead, and her tossing mane of hair was close to the wall. He felt his own head touch the rough, rocky surface and automatically raised himself over her in a push-up position, his hands dropping from her flushed, jiggling tits to seize her ankles and pry them farther apart and level with her upper torso for the leverage he needed. His sun-bronzed body was now a ball of sheer uncontrolled passion that had unleashed itself completely against the squirming, beautifully tender flesh mingling with his own. He could feel his heated cock growing thicker and thicker up in her young quivering belly, as he ground savagely into her with a wave of sadistic delight flashing across and lighting his contorted facial features. He had never had anything this young before, nothing this innocent and tender and helpless, and it was goading him on to heights of lustful savagery unknown even to him. His thick, inflated penis ached and throbbed as it never had.
"How do you like it, honey? . . . Do you like . . . my big cock . . . fucking . . . into your cunt?" he managed to ask, spitting out the words between gulpings for air as he delivered a series of extra hard strokes between her wide-spread legs. He wanted to reduce her completely to his will, in mind as well as in body.
"I . . . oh, yes," she hissed, ashamed of admitting it and humiliated by his crudeness . . . and yet afraid of offending him lest she lose the bliss of having his huge penis inside her throbbing vaginal cavern.
"Then say it. . . . Say . . . you like . . . my big cock," he snarled contemptuously, still panting.
"I like this. . . . It's beautiful . . . " she hedged, unable to say what he wanted.
"Goddammit! Say it!"
"Ooooh, no, no, I can't," she cried, a pleading look in her glazed green eyes. "I can't say . . . such things. . . . Please don't make me!"
She fought with all her strength and the courage of her young years to muster the words he wanted, demanded her to say. But it was impossible . . . at least she thought so until suddenly he abruptly stopped pumping into her and she groaned at the loss of the wonderful new sensation.
"Say it!" he shouted.
"Oh yes, yessss, I love . . . your big cock fucking me . . . fucking me . . . filling my . . . my cunt," she finally gasped, lifting up her smooth white loins to receive the delicious reward of his thrusts again. She was ashamed but not enough to refuse him, not enough to forfeit the joy of having his massive male cock inside her -a joy that now she wondered how she had lived without until now. He did not disappoint her either, but renewed his fucking motions with more zest and wildness than even before. Then, pulling her back to the center of the mattress, he reached down and cupped the twin globes of her ass, stretching them open, as faint mewls of female, servile acceptance issued from her chest in breathless torrents, her face wrung with craving, mouth open, neck straining, nostrils flaring, a light sweat breaking out on her brow and causing tendrils of her red hair to cling, as though pasted, to her temples.
Frank slaved over her, his slave, as hypnotized as she was by the cadenced slap of his balls against the unprotected crevice of her ass. He smiled to himself at the thought of further conquering this hot, teenage little bitch toiling beneath him, and slid his fingers over the taut skin of her buttocks, finding the tiny brown-ringed anal hole where it puckered and worked below in rhythm to his pistoning cock.
It was soft and warm, forbidden, and he pushed into it with one finger, quickly, surprising her just as he had with his tongue. The soft flesh yielded and his finger slipped inside, further and further, until he heard her cries of protest and subjugation change perceptibly to moans of pleasure as her tiny virginal rectum became accustomed to the perverted explorations of his digital spear. A diabolical smile crossed his face as he felt her begin screwing the tiny tight mouth back on his finger, impaling herself between the gigantic cock in her pussy and the bold appendage in her hindmost orifice. He moved his other hand to where his cock was rampaging in and out of her pussy and could feel the soft hair-lined flanges clasping desperately to his hardness. He fondled and played with the billowing lips of her cunt where he entered her, and speeded up his strokes, hot and rampaging and deep, until he sensed the approach of her climax, the rosy hue on her face brightening and deepening as an unmistakable sign.
"Fuck faster! Fuck harder! Oh, pleeeease!" she moaned, her face changing into an unrecognizable mask of frantic, insane passion as she bucked harder and faster herself, her hands darting behind his driving buttocks to pull him as far as humanly possible into her open thighs.
"Oh, Frank, I can't help it, I'm going crazy! Something's happening! . . . Oh, oh, ooooooohhh!" she half screamed in a voice shrill with mind-reeling rapture. Her cum juice flowed wetly out around his still driving prick, spilling down into the dark, clenching furrow of her buttocks and flooding his testicles and the base of his cock as he drubbed unrelentingly into her. Dazzling flashes of light filled her head as she continued to groan out her first orgasm, her juices still flowing in unchecked gushes down the full quivering moons of her thrashing buttocks. She was a mass of exquisite moisture in her groin, and she felt nothing but the grand experience of total release, a soaring soul-sapping burst of sexual energy that occurred again and again, seeming as though it would never end.
Frank could also feel his hot load building up for an earth-shattering release, the broad thick head of his cock flexing and expanding inside her brutalized vaginal tunnel. He wanted her to remember this first fuck for the rest of her life and gathered himself to make the last jack-hammering onslaught of goring strokes the ones she would think of most. Then, unable to contain himself a second longer, he erupted, his hot thick liquid shooting deep into the recesses of her womb, mixing lewdly with the wetness of her own cumming. Her head whirled in mindless sensuality as the scalding powerful squirts surged deeply inside her, filling her to overflowing with its sticky whiteness. The hot slippery walls of her pussy clasped and unclasped, milking at the jerking organ like a sucking, starving mouth . . . until, at last, he collapsed on her sweating, exhausted form like a lifeless hulk.
Breathing thickly from their exertions, they lay still, his rapidly deflating penis still tightly encased by her sperm-flooded cunt. Finally, calling on the last reserves of his strength, he lifted himself and rolled off her, his cock withdrawing from her vaginal opening with a slight moist pop that sounded like a far distant cannon going off in the quiet dimness of the cabin. Nancy sighed regretfully at the loss and felt a cool rush of air play over her exhausted body, drying the beads and smears of perspiration. After a long moment, she drew away from Frank, far enough to allow her room to turn over on her stomach and rest her head on her folded arms, her eyes staring outward toward nothing. Gradually, her sense of reality returning, she realized that it was raining outside. She listened dreamily to the soft patter of raindrops on the roof, like a tranquil lullaby, and smiled at her own astonishment that, despite what she had done, the world was still functioning just as ever. . . . The obscene things that had happened to her had not altered the workings of nature. This thought somehow amused her, perhaps because now she better understood herself in relation to nature . . . as a woman.
Turning her head, she saw that Frank, the man she had hated and thought of as a selfish beast when he was kissing her down between her legs a few short minutes ago, was sound asleep at her side. Now, she felt no anger toward him. He had freed her from her juvenile self, helped her take the first big step toward becoming a mature person, a real woman. She was filled with warmth, a kind of love, toward him, and she leaned over to kiss him lightly on his flat firm stomach before she eased carefully off the mattress and crossed to the table to find her clothes.
A short while later, as she and Happy plodded slowly through the shadowy corridor of the canyon, the rain stopped and she could see the sun peeking out from behind a mass of clouds, beginning to burn through the steel gray hue of the sky and illuminate the striking mineral reds and blues of the rocks around her. It was like an omen to her, that she had finished living the darkness and ignorance of youth and was now entering into an adult world which she could help control . . . with her beauty just as much as her mind.
CHAPTER 4
"Oh yeah, Nancy's just fine and prettier than ever," Mel Leeds assured Joel and Lucy Dawson, the smile on his face like a parental swagger as he lifted his full glass of raw whiskey to his mouth. As often happened when Mel came to Pinon, the small New Mexico town he used as a kind of trading post, he had met Joel and Lucy in the Sandalwood Saloon, and the trio had repaired to a corner booth for a session of idle chitchat and hard drinking. Joel was also a rancher, about fifty, a successful man and well known in the area. Lucy, his wife, was a raven-haired, blue-eyed Amazon who was an attractive thirty-five and rumored to be an easy lay, even though she was in every other sense thoroughly devoted to her husband. Mel remembered the times she had drunk too much at parties and invited him, in front of everyone, including Joel, to enjoy a romp in the sack with her. Mel had always declined, of course, because Joel was his best friend . . . not to mention the fact that there had never been any real opportunity to slip away, gracefully, undetected by Joel, and take the promiscuous, hot-blooded woman up on her offer.
"Say, Mel, how old is that sexy little filly of yours?" Joel asked with more than just casual interest. As almost everyone knew, he was no purer than his wife when it came to appreciating the various charms of the opposite sex. Once, several years before, Lucy had become altogether soused and spilled the beans about her husband's attack on one of the young babysitters they had hired to tend their children while the couple attended a party. Evidently Joel had disappeared from the party and driven home, as he later told it, "to check up on the kids." He had arrived home drunk and offered the frightened girl a sum of money to go to bed with him. When she refused, he "attacked" her. Additional details were never available, for obviously the girl's parents were not opposed to accepting hush money, and so the matter was thereafter shrouded with mystery.
"Well, she's fourteen now, going on fifteen," Mel answered, "but you'd never guess it from lookin' at her. Damned if she doesn't look like a grown woman these days, all curves and with a spicy glint in her eyes. You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say she's already been up in the loft with some young buck. Anyway, I'll bet she's startin' to think about it."
Mel's whiskey was talking, but his words were a mild shock to Lucy, who normally was the first to rise to any conversation that even remotely concerned sex. Now, however, she thought it crude and unjust that Mel should talk about his own daughter in such blatantly erotic terms especially when the girl was not around to defend herself. . . . And besides, Nancy was just a kid, a pretty little teenager who had probably not even begun to think about sex except in the most romantic way.
On the other hand, Joel listened intently to Mel's speculations, a queer blind smile on the older man's face as he remembered the last time he had seen Nancy. . . . As far as he was concerned, the ravishing young redhead was ripe for plucking, and even though he was no spring chicken, he certainly would not mind having a crack at her himself. Just the thought of it made his prick lurch and begin to throb in the confines of his trousers. Then his memory carried him back to the trouble with the babysitter, a lush little number about the same age as Nancy was now. Jesus, he had been hot to fuck that sweet teenage bitch; and he might have been able to, too, had he not been pie-eyed and so damned anxious to rush things. Well, that was water under the bridge, so to speak, and now was now. It was considerably less painful, and more exciting, to contemplate what Mel had said about Nancy.
"Hey, you two, I've got an idea," Mel said, breaking into their thoughts. "Why don't we all go over to my place and have a few drinks of that firewater I picked up in San Francisco last year? You can say hello to Nancy, and later, we'll have some real steaks some Leeds Ranch beef, the best in the state!"
"Gee, Mel, I don't know," Lucy demurred, realizing that these seemingly innocent get-togethers usually resulted in their staying the night . . . after six or seven hours of drinking straight whiskey, loud although harmless arguments, and in the morning, monumental hangovers.
"Hell yes, we'd be pleased to guzzle some of your cheap booze," Joel enthused kiddingly, "and we'll even choke down some of your wormy beef. And as for Nancy, it'll be interesting to see if she's learned anything at that imagine school you send her to. Sure, we'll accept your invitation."
"Joel, I -" Lucy began.
"Dammit, woman, I've never heard you turn down a free drink before," Joel broke in, annoyed at his wife's reluctance to contribute to the spirit of the prospective party. "Anyhow, you know damned well that Mel's got the ruggedest, most handsome lot of hired hands anywhere around here. You can't tell, I might pass out and you'll have a chance to sneak off to the bushes with two or three of them."
Strained laughter rose from the trio at Joel's irreverent remark a laughter springing more from the possibility that he might be right than from the absurdity of the statement. On the way out of the darkened lounge, they stopped at the bar and went through the usual friendly combat to determine who would have the privilege of paying for the drinks.
At home, Nancy paced back and forth through the rooms of the rambling ranch house, wondering what could be keeping her father in town. Interspersed throughout her wonderment were memories of the day before with Frank. Every time she pictured the details of the torrid session, she flushed a little and began to apologize to herself for enjoying what she saw in her mind. But there was something more, perhaps a small degree of masochism latent in her, that increased the pleasure of looking back at herself being subjected to the cruel lust of Frank Summerwell . . . and then recalling how she had turned suddenly into a wild inferno of uncontrolled desire. She began to ask herself if she would return to his cabin for more of the same, for more humiliation and more of the lewd bliss she had experienced beneath his roving hands and pile-driving loins. Although young, she was realistic. . . . There was little doubt in her mind that eventually, probably sooner than later, she would saddle up Happy and make tracks up to the canyon where her strange, devilish lover would be waiting to serve her more of the same kind of ecstasy. The mere likelihood made her nervous and excited at the same time.
"Where's Nancy!" came her father's big voice from the front living room.
"I'm right here I'm coming, Daddy," Nancy called back in reply to Mel's booming inquiry, hurrying toward the spacious front room. She heard other voices backgrounding her father's and was curious to know who was with him. When she entered the room she saw Mel fumbling in the long oak liquor cabinet as Joel and Lucy Dawson stood by, chuckling at their host's frustration at not being able to locate the special whiskey he had promised them.
"By God, here it is!" he roared victoriously, his voice slurring, as he withdrew a handsome unopened bottle of expensive private stock from the back of the cabinet. Turning, he caught sight of Nancy and threw up his hands, beaming.
"There you are, baby, pretty as ever," he said, advancing toward her rather unsteadily. "See who I've brought home for a few drinks and dinner -Joel and Lucy!" He took her in his arms possessively, lifting her off the ground and crushing her to him with an excess of fervor that made her gasp for breath and beg to be put down.
"Daddy, you've been a bad boy," Nancy teased. "You've been at the Sandalwood drinking when you were supposed to be seeing about buying some new horses. That's what you told me you were going to do, solemn honor."
"See--see, it's just as I told you," Mel shouted playfully, wagging a finger at Nancy, "the little bitch's a woman now, just as bossy and as much of a watchdog as her mother was. . . . Only I'll bet she's a helluva sight friendlier to boys than her mother ever thought of being."
"Daddy!" Nancy chided.
Joel Dawson silently agreed, thinking to himself how splendid it would be if the youngster were friendly to older men too. He could not tear his eyes away from Nancy's youthfully developed body, its perfect proportions, the large firm breasts almost bursting out of her blouse, the breath-taking contours of her hips, the wispy waist, the way her skin-tight jeans clung up between her legs, forming a visible cleft between the lips of her tight warm pussy. Christ, he thought, if he were her old man, he would find some way to get in her hot little pants within a week!
After a round of greetings and the usual questions that always accompany reunions, the four people sat down to apply themselves to serious drinking that is, all except Nancy, who graciously gave in to her father's insistence that she have a small glass of sherry. Following a lull in the conversation, Joel chimed in with a question about the horses Mel intended to purchase:
"So, you need some riding stock, eh? Why didn't you say so? I'll sell you a half dozen fine geldings cheaper than you can get them from that thieving bastard, Morton."
"To tell the truth, Joel, I was lookin' for some breeding stock a few mares and a good strong stud. Nancy's got the best stallion on the place, but I can't keep her off him long enough to get a mare under him."
"Listen here, Daddy, I don't want you working Happy that way, until he's too tired to ride," Nancy scolded in mock-seriousness, evoking laughter and causing the others' eyebrows to arch at the candor of her remark. As Joel shifted uneasily in his chair, she continued: "Why don't you and Joel go up to the Guadalupes and bring in that wild black stallion everyone talks about . . . if he really exists?"
"You know, she might have something there," Joel erupted, his eyes sparking at the mention of the legendary horse. "There's no question about it, he exists -I've seen him and he's the sturdiest piece of horse I've ever seen or heard of. He'd make a good stud, if you could keep the son-of-a-bitch from kickin' down your stalls and scarin' hell out of everyone within ten miles of here. Come on, Mel, what do you say we take a crack at bringing him in? We need some recreation anyway."
"And so do we!" Nancy and Lucy added almost simultaneously, giggling at how they had thought of the same thing at the same time. Mel was strangely silent, though, his mind picking at the suggestion as he drained his glass and leaned forward to take up the bottle and refill his friends' glasses. In most respects the whole idea was preposterous, as impractical as it was adventurous, and yet it was also appealing. If the stallion was as special as Joel claimed, the animal could definitely be an asset to Leeds Ranch. He needed a batch of strong, durable foals to replenish the remuda, the mounts he had already lost and those he would surely lose during the next two or three years. If he could catch this wonder stud, he might save seven or eight thousand dollars in stud fees in the future, plus have a good time to boot just catching him. . . . Fuck it, why not? he decided, his eyes sparkling with the as-yet undivulged content of his ruminations. Then, his expression unchanged, he looked fiercely into the eyes of each of his companions, staring them down, until at long last he fell back in his chair and let loose with a volley of laughter that shook the walls.
"Hell yes! Why not?" he bellowed. "We'll all go, day after tomorrow, about noon. We'll need at least another man, though, and I'm afraid I can't spare anyone from the spread just now.
"Oh, don't worry, Daddy, I know someone a man who knows the country extremely well! And he's seen the herd too, many times!" Nancy blurted out, her green, almond-shaped eyes blazing with fierce excitement as the possibility of having Frank along on the hunt. "But we'll have to supply a horse for him. You see, he lives. . . . "
"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Mel interrupted with a tone of impatience in his voice. "Who is this bird, and where did you meet him?" Praying that she had not over-extended herself, thus compromising her relationship with Frank Summerwell, she managed to calm down and explain how she had encountered the blonde writer on one of her rides into the Guadalupes. Naturally she was not altogether honest about the meeting and excluded all the raw details involving the sexual aspects of their liaisons in the canyon. Quite to the contrary, she painted a glowing verbal portrait of her lover, dwelling on his talent as a writer, his sincerity, and especially, his valuable knowledge of the range and the habits of the wild band of horses. She elaborated on the man's ingenuity and courage in building his own cabin . . . his strength of character in shutting himself off from the luxuries of the civilized world in order to attain the peace and quiet required to write profoundly, as a real artist, avoiding the influences of other men. Finally, finishing her eloquent argument on Frank's behalf, she was relieved to hear her father grunt a token approval and suggest that she ride up the next day to ask Frank Summerwell if he would agree to join them. Mel even agreed with Nancy's suggestion that he pay Frank wages for his services on the hunt.
"Just how old is he?" Lucy inquired of Nancy, obviously quite impressed by the girl's description of this superman hermit. After all, Lucy surmised, maybe he would be worth her attention on the trip. If he lived alone, completely secluded from the world, and was really as attractive as Nancy said, he would no doubt be disposed to indulge in a little harmless love-making with a willing, full-blown woman such as herself. God knows, she could certainly use a good fucking by someone other than Joel. The selfish bastard hardly touched her anymore; and what was worse, he watched her like a jealous hawk, preventing her from moving around town in search of the cock she so desperately needed to be happy and content. No, she had never kidded herself she was as close to being a nymphomaniac as a woman could be without actually wearing a sign advertising her willingness to spread her long legs for almost any man with a hard-on. Hell yes, she admitted it: she adored stiff pricks, wanted all she could get, and had left more than one man worn to a useless frazzle in the morning.
"All right, then, it's settled," Mel said with finality, "we catch that black bugger and a few of his mares. For now, though, let's jack up the cook and have supper. I'm hungry enough to eat even your beef, Joel . . . even if I did die from it."
Nancy watched Mel and the Dawsons sway off toward the kitchen, chattering animatedly about the stud and the fact that they might even share him to service mares on both ranches. The stunning young girl then leaned back on the couch, thoughts of Frank and the powerful black stallion whirring tormentingly through her mind. One thing particularly disturbed her, though, and that was Lucy's by no means hidden fascination with Frank. Perhaps her sex-hungry lover would prefer Lucy; perhaps he would consider the older woman's body plus her greater experience more intriguing and stimulating than her own. The very possibility made her shudder and drive such considerations from her mind, replacing them with the more acceptable memories of yesterday, when Frank had assaulted her virginal cunt and spilled his creamy white sperm into her belly. There was no sense trying to fool herself, she decided, for she already found herself anxiously anticipating the next screwing she would receive from him. Thrilling visions of his hardened penis began to race back and forth across her mind's eye, causing her to chastise herself, yet becoming all the more vivid as her nipples perked up and a wetness began to saturate the crotch band of her panties. Her breath quickened and her entire body began to pulse at the thought that she would be alone with him the next day, perhaps naked and pinned beneath him again with his huge hardened cock locked tightly up inside her fluttering belly. . . .
CHAPTER 5
The sky was a deep, rich blue two days later as Nancy, Mel and the Dawsons approached the lower slopes of the foothills cradling the red canyon that was their immediate destination. It was a splendid day, the flaming orb of the sun lighting the minaret-like cacti and glancing off the rocks like liquid reflections. There was even a breeze bickering through the mesquite, stirring up brief whirlwinds of sand and dust that went tearing away, only to dissolve into nothingness within the space of thirty or forty feet.
Trailing the group, there were two heavily-laden pack-horses and an extra saddled mount for Frank. Nancy had assured her father that her friend would be at his cabin, waiting to accompany them into the mountains. She had ridden Happy up the previous day and found a note left for her, saying that Frank had hiked off to town for supplies and would not be back until early the following morning. She in turn had tacked another note to his door, explaining that she had been there to invite him along, as a salaried hand, on their horse-hunting expedition, and that they would arrive at his cabin about two o'clock that afternoon.
As they neared the hermit's cabin, Nancy could barely conceal her anxiety that he might not be there, or that perhaps for some unknown reason he might not be willing to go along. It was not a simple thing for her newly-aroused emotions to cope with, that he might refuse, and she began to reprimand herself for having encouraged her father to want Frank along on the trip. She could have stayed at the ranch and, after the others had set off, gone up alone for another sex adventure with the virile blonde god.
Her fears were soon allayed, however, for she saw Frank sitting patiently on the garden bench when they rounded the last bend in the canyon. Hearing them, he stood up, shirtless, and waved heartily as though he had known the whole group for a long time and was happy to see them again. Out of the corner of her eye, Nancy saw an open-mouthed smile break across Lucy's face, a smile registering the shock of pleasure the older woman felt at finding their companion-to-be such a handsome, muscular broth of a man . . . one with whom the cock-hungry woman fully intended to make beautiful erotic music.
"Hello, Nancy, Mr. Leeds . . . and hello to you folks," Frank smiled in greeting, nodding to Joel and Lucy, his gaze lingering a moment on Lucy's generous thighs straddling the sides of the mare she rode. "I found your note, Nancy, and I'm frankly honored that you thought of me as someone to help out. I'm all ready to go, as you can see," he said, pointing to a small pack. comprised of a bedroll and sundry personal items.
"Nancy says you've seen this black devil and his harem," Mel drawled as he scrutinized the lean, suntanned man before him. "Do you think you can find him? . . . I'll pay you twenty dollars a day and add a hundred dollar bonus to that . . . if we catch him. Does that sound okay to you?"
"Fair enough," Frank said. "I can use the money, all right, and I think I can find them-by tomorrow. I heard them just this morning, about dawn, about two miles from here. . . . Sound carries a long way up here. . . . But finding them and putting a rope around that black stallion's neck are two different things."
"You just lead us to the herd and follow directions," Joel grumbled, "and we'll do the rest."
"Suits me fine," Frank grinned. "I think you'll see that I'm easy to get along with when it comes to earning a day's honest wages." As Frank turned to pick up his gear he cracked a special smile and a wink at Nancy, showing her that he was merely playing along with the others and still reserved all his real interest for her.
Once Frank had secured his trappings and was astride his horse, the small party headed out of the canyon at a brisk jog. Nancy and Frank rode side by side, with Lucy just behind the two ranchers at the fore of the pack. She complimented herself at having maneuvered Happy into a position alongside Frank, forcing the designing Lucy to urge her horse ahead to avoid congestion on the narrow trail. Somehow, she was enjoying the competition with the older woman, knowing that, ultimately, Frank preferred the untrained, unspoiled flesh of a fourteen-year-old girl to that of a lust-driven bitch of thirty-five, one whose qualifications for a lover were reduced to the primitive requirement that he have an erect penis and be willing to fuck her. Just the idea of her advantage in this respect, added to the steady rock and rhythmic sway of Happy's gait, ignited Nancy's new-found passion and caused her breasts and pubic parts to tingle in readiness.
They rode through the high country most of the afternoon, carefully making their way along tiny deer trails that led them into the shadowy green depths of canyons and up over barren rocky ridges, all the while following fresh signs, marked by broken branches and hours-old dung-droppings left in the wake of the restless, moving wild herd. Once, even Joel agreed with Frank that the elusive band was not far away, for they both had heard whinnying and the pounding of hooves in the near distance.
"I'll bet they're on to us . . . probably got our scent," Mel conjectured when the group paused for a short stop to rest and look over the endless panorama of rolling mountains and narrow valleys stretching off from the ridge they were on. "It's getting late, so we might as well find a spot to camp for the night. Well get an early start in the morning. . . . Maybe we'll catch the bastards asleep."
"That's a good idea," Frank affirmed, "because there's a deep gorge about three miles from here. I've seen them grazing on the meadow about halfway in, and maybe if we surprise them early, we can haze them further into the box at the end of the gorge . . . that is, if we're lucky enough to catch them there."
Several hours later, Nancy was sitting by herself on a fallen log at the edge of the grassy clearing they had chosen as a campsite. She was watching the three men and Lucy as they sat in a three-cornered huddle near the crackling, pine-scented fire that Frank had built with all the expertise of an Indian. It was shamefully obvious that Lucy had her sights set for a roll in the bushes with Frank. The disgusting bitch was coming on like mad, laughing and clutching at every opportunity to touch the blonde man's shoulder or leg as they talked. It all seemed innocent, of course, and not even Joel was paying any mind to his wife's bold, insinuating advances. Not at all; in fact, he seemed to admire Frank and made an effort to see that the charming writer downed just as much whiskey as he and Mel did. Her own father seemed to be oblivious to her presence among them. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat and, much to Lucy's delight, questioning his new friend and hired hand about the latter's success with women.
"Yes, do tell us about that," Nancy heard Lucy ask cooingly. "I've heard all sorts of crazy tales about writers, that they're hung like bulls and can go for simply hours on end."
"Well, I don't know about that . . . Hemingway wrote that F. Scott Fitzgerald, while willing, was cursed with abnormally small male equipment and had a difficult time convincing himself that any healthy woman wanted to go to bed with him. Fortunately, I'm a bit more secure than Fitzgerald," Frank laughed softly as he reached for the whiskey as a sort of punctuation to his humor.
"Goddammit, Mel, I'm glad we brought old Frank here along. He's a ballsy son-of-a-bitch, and funny too." Nancy smiled to herself at Joel's ignorance, his blindness to Lucy's overt attempts to lure the stranger off for a sexual romp. The young girl was also saddened by her hot-blooded lover's responsiveness to Lucy's cheap, open-house remarks and gestures. Surely her time with him in the cabin had meant something more than just a convenient fuck-taking a naive teenager's virginity just for the fun of it. Oh Lord, she screamed inwardly, what if it were true? She doubted that she could resist him again even if it were the truth.
A few minutes later, she watched the slightly tipsy revelers rise from their spots around the fire and move toward her.
"Gonna catch that black demon tomorrow. . . . But now," Mel Leeds drunkenly announced to his daughter, "now now we're gonna take a little walk down to the . . . the water . . . that stream I keep hearin' . . . and sober up for bed. S'okay?"
"Of course, Daddy, but be careful in the dark there's not much moonlight for safe walking."
"If you don't mind, sir, I think I'll stay here and enjoy the fire with Nancy," Frank said casually, his voice betraying no evidence of the considerable quantity of whiskey he had drunk with the others. He paused beside the gnarled fallen log that the girl was using as a seat.
"Thass all right with me . . . but juss be careful the spooks up here don't get you," Mel quipped thickly over his shoulder as he staggered off arm in arm with Joel and Lucy, their voices and occasional bursts of laughter gradually fading in the darkness beyond the firelight. Frank took a seat beside Nancy and the pair sat in silence for seeming eons, pretending to listen to the hooting of an owl and the chirruping of crickets. It was the first time they had been alone since the fateful afternoon in the cabin, and their thoughts were now hammering in their brains with the same, though unspoken urgency. As for Frank, his mind was casting about frantically for an appropriate opening statement to break the silence and pave the way to another satisfying session with the passionate young nymph at his side. Nancy's thoughts centered more on his opinion of her, if he still desired her even though Lucy had commanded his attention most of the evening.
"Nancy, I know what you're thinking," Frank finally said, his arm reaching out to rest gently on her shoulder. "But you don't understand why I've been going along with Lucy's seduction game. It's a diversionary tactic, only that. She's got the hots for me, and I'd much rather keep her busy that way than chance having the bitch suspect us and go to your father . . . with some tale that could hurt us both."
"Are you sure that's your only interest in her?" Nancy asked with undisguised doubt in her voice.
"Solemn promise," he answered, smiling broadly as he held up his free hand to swear his sincerity. Believing him, she laughed softly at her fears and leaned against him, snuggling her head into the warm hollow between his shoulder and chest. Perhaps she was not as much of a woman as she thought, she worried, for she should have overcome her petty doubts and understood the force of pressure being placed on Frank by Lucy and the situation itself. Despite what Frank had implied, it was really shallow of her to think that one afternoon of love-making would automatically transform her into a full-fledged woman. In any case, she was certainly willing to tackle the challenge with every ounce of energy and courage she possessed. And for once, she was not afraid of him anything but and looked forward to his caresses.
Sensing his impact on her emotions, the tawny-haired writer slipped his other arm around her waist and drew her snugly against him, planting his lips on hers in a long, greedy kiss that forced back her head. His tongue pried open her teeth and slipped headlong into the depths of her mouth, toying with her tongue in light jabbing motions, until he heard her breath begin to race with the lust that had been seething just below the surface of her doubts and fears. A little at a time, he withdrew his tongue, enticing hers into his mouth, then locking his lips around the slender spear of pink flesh in a teasing sucking grip.
"Oh darling, darling," she sighed when he withdrew his mouth to give them air. Then, only vaguely aware of what she was doing, Nancy deliberately dropped one eager hand from his neck and began to fumble in the crotch of his trousers, her sensitive girlish fingers finding and curling around the long throbbing bulge under the material. In answer to her boldness, he moved one of his hands from her back and fully cupped one of her warm breasts in his palm, pleasantly surprised to discover that she was not wearing a bra under the flannel shirt. His searching fingers found and freed the first three buttons of her shirt, his hand plunging in without hesitation to grasp and milk at each breast alternately. Then he bent down and pulled back the shirt, nipping playfully at the erect light brown nipples one at a time, eliciting low fevered moans from her as she worked hurriedly to open his fly.
Nancy jerked free the last remaining metal button at the crotch of his jeans and was shocked all over again at the sight of his huge thick rod leaping into view, illuminated like some savage apparition by the dancing orange flickerings of the campfire. My God, it was beautiful! she thought, her fingers circling the impressive tower and filling her with a sense of power . . . that she was able to make it that large just by touching it with her fingers. Even so, its circumference was too great to completely encompass with her hand, and she wondered anew how she had ever been able to swallow it up with her virginal little pussy.
"Suck it, honey . . . I want you to suck me off," Frank whispered, applying pressure to the back of her neck. "Let's say it's lesson number two in becoming a real woman." She saw that his face was twisted into a grotesque mask as it had been before, at the cabin, and she felt a wave of confusion at her lover's unexpected change in personality, from a tender, attentive man into a selfish, demanding beast. But there was more than confusion in her mind; his very crudity triggered something else deep inside her . . . something that delighted in being humiliated and treated as an object in which he vented his obscene sexual lust.
"I I don't know what you want me to do . . . I don't know how to suck you off," she whispered at his ear, the humid caress of her breath inciting him all the more. He exerted more pressure on the back of her head and muscled her face down to within inches of the blood-red head of his cock. She studied the pulsing instrument for a moment, forgetting how he was hurting her. It was like a forearm and webbed all along the underside with heavy veins beating like a heart. The balls below it were thrilling too. . . . They shivered, drawing up and then loosening in time to the pulse-beat of the penis rising above them.
She held her breath for an interminable moment and then expelled it on the big cock-head, causing his testicles to ache and expand with the build-up of sperm in them. He pulled back, then, just far enough to provide the space between them that was necessary to present his penis to her mouth at a comfortable angle. Now, maybe she would understand what he meant by lesson number two, that her apprenticeship was far from finished.
He sat tensely with his hardened cock pointing straight up at the black night sky, exerting more and more force at the back of her head, pushing her down until her lips brushed the semen shining where it oozed out of the flexed hole on the tip of his prick. Suddenly she relaxed and reached down with her other hand to take it viselike with all her fingers. She began to stroke him, up and down with both hands, sliding the loose flesh back and forth in a slow, magical rhythm that made his sex urge increase almost beyond endurance. Then she fell to her knees between his legs, hugging his thighs with her arms. She held him tightly, stroking the thick cock-head between the flats of her palms in a teasing masturbatory motion that caused his hips to undulate and buck involuntarily. It was as though she had done this before, he thought; maybe the bitch had taunted other men this way before blowing them. She had either done it before or had an extraordinary instinct for prick-teasing.
His mind still buzzing with questions, he watched her head lower further, closing the few inches between them, and saw her delicate tongue snake out, its tip boring tentatively into the tiny opening on the end of his quivering cock. She flicked downward next, licking at the crimson rim of the glans and sending quivering arpeggios of sensation down his legs to the tips of his toes, which curled and straightened spasmodically. Then she lifted her head just above the protruding column, hovering for a maddening moment before she brought her mouth down all the way and enclosed the whole of the thick head in a wet, warm lip-lock. Her mouth tightened like an elastic band around it just below the head, trapping it completely inside the slippery, silky softness of the warm wet cavern.
"Holy fucking Christ!" he grunted, bending his neck to stare down at her flesh-engorged mouth. The maddening sight of his rock-hard cock sunk almost halfway between her ovaled teenage lips increased his sexual excitement to the point of delirium. Her saliva trickled from the corners of her mouth and ran down the portion of his rod that she had not yet taken into her, making it glisten like the stump of a wet tree in the dim light, as did her moist pink lips. She tenderly manipulated the skin of his balls with one hand and stroked the base of his cock between the thumb and forefinger of the other as she began to suck and pull at him like a veteran whore. He could feel the softness of her tongue twirling lasciviously around it at the apex of the withdrawal, the tip rummaging into the tiny opening of the glans again and again. He tensed his loins and thrust impulsively upwards, his eyes still fastened to the marvelous sight of her picture-pretty head bobbing up and down below. Just the visual effect alone was enough to drive him crazy. . . . And to think that, up until a few days ago, he had not touched a woman in months!
Now, there she was, Nancy, a beautiful teenager, sucking his hard prick as if she thought it were the end of the world, her long red hair flowing sensuously over his thighs, almost touching the ground, and gleaming like shimmering gold in the light of the waning campfire.
Nancy could feel his increasing response and began to suck his cock with more enthusiasm, the tips of her teeth digging firmly into the swollen, resisting flesh, leaving small pink trails of blood and glistening saliva where they scraped the surface of the skin. She shifted her position on his thighs without desengaging her sucking lips from his cock, and knelt then on all fours between his open legs. She reached behind him, cupping his solid buttocks in the palms of her hands, pulling his groin up tighter to her face, taking almost every last inch of the mammoth penis into her throat as he groaned and muttered incoherently between clenched teeth.
As she licked and sucked the delightfully pungent-tasting cock, she heard a sudden noise behind them in the dark. Her first impulse was to raise her head to see what it was, but the strength of his hands holding her face to him, prevented her. After a moment she heard the noise again, this time closer. She had not been imagining it, for even Frank was frozen to stillness, listening with her. In unison they hastily covered themselves, their fingers busily buttoning and adjusting their clothes.
"Well, hello, kids," Lucy said with faint sarcasm as she and the two men came into the ring of light, "Nancy, dear, don't you think you should put on something warmer? You'll catch your death sitting there with your shirt open like that."
"Please don't worry about me, Mrs. Dawson. I'm really quite warm," Nancy said icily as she surreptitiously inched further away from Frank.
"I'll bet you are, sweetie," Lucy returned, equally frigid, her eyes scanning the pair and settling unflinchingly on the dwindling length of cock inside Frank's trousers.
"You folks can jaw all you want, but I'm going to have another shot and go to bed," Nancy's father said, addressing the group offhandedly. He was obviously unaware of the crux of the situation, his perception still impaired by the whiskey he had drunk. Raising his hand to wave goodnight, the inebriated rancher zigzagged up to the fire, now mostly glowing coals, and stooped to pick up an armful of large hardwood logs. He came dangerously close to falling headfirst into the sputtering bed of coals as he bent over it to release the logs like a load of bombs, swearing when a shower of sparks fanned out in all directions. Still grumbling good-naturedly, he snatched up his bedroll and then stumbled to the far side of the rejuvenated campfire, just outside the range of visibility, having forgotten to drink his nightcap.
"Joel, don't you think it would be nice to sit here a bit and watch the fire?" Lucy suggested as she sat next to Frank on the log, unbuttoning the top buttons of her sweater as she wriggled into a position for maximum comfort. "It's just as Nancy said warm and pleasant here."
But Joel merely grunted, not really hearing his wife, for his eyes were pinned to the white swells of Nancy's breasts, generous portions of which were still showing where her shirt lapels were peeled back.
"Hey, listen, why don't I get the big quilt Nancy packed," Lucy said, rising. "There's no sense sitting on this old tree when we can be comfortable." With that, she rose and walked a beeline toward the supply cache, her ample hips jiggling suggestively as she went. Feeling Nancy's muscles tense at the older woman's display, Frank slapped her knee and turned toward her to smile, hoping to dispel her jealousy and anxiety over Lucy. There was a possibility, he thought, that the night might develop into one hell of an affair. If he played his cards right, he might provide the impetus required to engineer a real orgy. Lucy would agree that much was certain and from the way Joel was ogling Nancy, his eyes beady with desire for the girl, Frank was reasonably safe in assuming that he too would go along with things. Only Nancy remained an obstacle, for he was almost positive that she would try to confound any sexual play in which Lucy might become his partner if only temporarily. Christ, he had to give it a try, though. The way the young girl had sucked his cock, building him to such a pitch of excitement that he had been on the verge of cumming . . . well, something had to be done. Anyway, that big, raven-haired bitch looked like a wonderful lay, and she had been making every effort to communicate to him that she would like nothing better than a good hard fucking.
Nancy watched Frank's face as he sat thinking, his gaze glued to some imaginary spot on the ground beyond his feet. She loathed Lucy and Joel for returning when they had; Frank's cock had tasted like heaven in her mouth. And she was certain that he would have filled her throat with his hot white sperm if they had had another few minutes alone. Now, they had not only been interrupted, but it was clearly apparent that Lucy planned to share Frank's firm masculine body whether the girl liked it or not. All right, Nancy suddenly decided, let her Frank would see that, even though she was only fourteen, she was capable of providing in enthusiasm what the older woman had in experience. Besides, Nancy knew that she was much lovelier than Lucy and every bit as well built.
Joel's mind was also working rapidly, calculating through a boozy haze how he could swing even a few minutes with young Nancy, his cock buried to the hilt somewhere, anywhere, in the youthful redhead's delectable little body. Hell, Lucy could have a romp with the writer, if necessary . . . if that was what it took to get little Nancy. Thank God Mel had been drunk, lagging behind, when the three of them had returned to camp from the stream. Otherwise he would have seen his daughter with her soft full lips wrapped around Frank's prick, and that would have spoiled whatever chance there might be for the rest of them to have some fun.
"Here we are," Lucy said as she approached the others with a huge thick quilt draped over her arm. After Frank and Joel had assisted her in spreading the quilt out evenly on the ground a dozen or so paces from the log, the foursome found positions on it, sitting shoulder to shoulder as they faced the fire.
"You know, you two had better be more careful . . . if you're going to play around up here," Lucy said after an awkward silence, pausing again to let the words sink in. "There might have been a lot of trouble if Mel had caught you like that . . . on your knees, Nancy." Another long silence followed and Joel grinned obscenely as he turned to stare directly into Nancy's unbelieving eyes.
"Do you mean . . . you saw?" Nancy asked quaveringly, fighting down a strong desire to deny everything.
"Yes, dear, Joel and I saw."
"Let me ask you this, then," Frank broke in, the strength and self-assurance in his voice a comfort to Nancy, "did you like what you saw?"
"That all depends . . . " Lucy answered coyly, her eyes traveling from Frank's handsome face down to the crotch of his trousers where a seminal stain was still visible. "Doesn't it, Joel? I mean, it depends upon how Frank and Nancy think of us. Isn't that right, honey?"
"Yeah, that's how it is," he replied almost menacingly. "Mel might start shootin' if he thought his pretty daughter was goin' down on a stranger."
Nancy blanched with horror and embarrassment at Joel Dawson's ugly words, words she began to understand were designed to barely camouflage a blackmail threat. But good God, what did the Dawsons have in mind as payment to remain quiet about what they had witnessed? Surely Joel, a greying man older than her own father, did not expect her to submit to his sexual demands? And yet, the more the girl thought about Lucy's hankering for Frank, the more she began to realize that this was probably the truth. Probably Joel was willing to grant his wife sexual freedom at the price of having his way with Mel Leeds's daughter.
"Forgive Joel's bluntness," Lucy said, "but, really now, I don't see why the four of us can't work out something to give everyone satisfaction. Nancy's not a child not anymore and Mel's out like a light for the rest of the night. . . . Why can't we all be sort of . . . friendly . . . and forget all about what happened?" With this last pointedly promiscuous remark, Lucy chuckled gayly and edged close enough to Frank to rest her head on his brawny warm shoulder. She breathed a low moan when she felt his arm slip around her waist, pulling her even closer.
"Well, now that you mention it, perhaps we can be friends," Frank laughed, his awakened male vanity growing by leaps and bounds. Everything seemed to be going his way this evening. And now, he could feel his prick responding to Lucy's nearness, causing him for a moment to completely forget about Nancy and Joel sitting side by side, less than a foot away on the quilt. He only knew that he wanted this seductive, black-haired woman, regardless of the consequences, and the sooner the better.
"By Jesus, I whole-heartedly agree. . . . Why don't we all get nice and cozy, and maybe . . . maybe we'll forget what we saw," Joel said with a twinkle in his eye. Then, boldly, he added: "One thing, I think it's a crying shame that a girl with Nancy's looks should be sitting here freezing to death."
"But I'm not cold, Mr. Dawson," Nancy quickly replied.
"Sure you are," Joel insisted. "Those nice little titties of yours are half naked. . . . " He could not tear his eyes away from her luscious, voluptuous young body and began to breathe faster as his big cock jerked to attention between his legs. Nothing could stop him now from having that beautiful youngster's body and even if she should scream bloody murder, hell, his old friend Mel would never believe that he had actually tried to get in the girl's pants. More, he knew that Nancy was crazy with jealousy as she sat there watching her boyfriend brazenly playing around with his wife, Lucy.
It was true: Nancy's thoughts were perfectly aligned with Joel's. A jealous rage boiled in her veins as she watched Frank's hand probing boldly under the opened front of Lucy's sweater. Yet she was also dimly conscious of another feeling, a subtle warmth flowing through her loins as she witnessed the blonde man's betrayal before her very eyes. Good heavens, she must be sick to be excited, even a little, by the sight of her own lover fondling another woman. She was also stirred up by the strange masochistic pleasure she took in knowing that Joel, a man more than three times her age, planned to take advantage of the fact that he and Lucy had seen her kneeling between Frank's legs. She realized that her daddy would never even consider any accusation she leveled at Joel, that the man had taken her against her will while her father dozed in a drunken stupor. She had no way to turn, no recourse but to accept the lecherous old Joel to use her body in any way he wanted. Just the thought of his touching her made her tremble with a combination of shame and arousal that she could not explain.
"Come here, sweetheart," Joel said as he roughly hugged Nancy to him and, without preliminary, began to unbutton her shirt the rest of the way down. Then, as if controlled by an alien force, she forced herself to relax as he rudely stripped the shirt from her lovely white shoulders and down her arms. She heard him whistle softly as he looked at her large rounded breasts with the nipples perking to sudden erection in the cool breeze. Without a word, he knelt back and worked with shaking fingers to unfasten the front of his trousers, his eyes still feasting on the magnificent naked globes of her breasts.
Nancy could not wholly fathom what was happening, even though the fluttering sensations in her breasts and loins were becoming stronger and harder to ignore. In an attempt to avert her eyes from what would soon be Joel's nudity, she turned her gaze toward Frank and Lucy. . . . Lord, Lucy was also half naked, her heavy breasts standing out in front of her like huge filled balloons being kneaded and pinched by Frank's eager hands and fingers. Her young mind was even more shocked to see that his trousers were lying in a heap on the ground in front of them, his tremendous cock jutting out at least seven or eight inches above where Lucy held it with both hands at the base. She saw the older woman clench her fists around the thick penis, slowly sliding them up and down its incredible length as Frank's face changed again into that of a primitive savage. He moved up a bit closer so that his knees straddled Lucy's knees, his long throbbing cudgel directly below the woman's face, presenting her sex-filmed eyes a perfect view of his hardness while his balls drooped down to nestle between her tits.
"Lie back . . . on the ground," Nancy heard Lucy say huskily, watching her push against Frank's chest as she spoke. The man did not have to be told twice and immediately rolled to one side and over on his back in one continuous movement. "Aren't you going to join me, Nancy," Lucy said slyly, an obscene grin on her face as she moved fluidly to crouch on her hands and knees over the blonde Adonis. "In the meantime, Joel can built up the fire again so we can enjoy seeing the show."
"Ah, shit, Lucy, I'm hotter'n sixty," the greying rancher protested as he stood. Nancy turned toward his voice and saw that he was naked, standing there at her side with one tanned, weather-beaten hand stroking his stiff cock. It was fantastic not as long as Frank's, but over two inches thicker in girth and seeping bright clear drops of semen. She could not help but imagine what it would be like to hold the two men's massive rods in her hands at the same time, stroking them as she had just seen Lucy stroke along Frank's hardened penis. Then, wheeling and stalking off in a flustered huff, Joel headed across the clearing to replenish the diminishing fire.
Nancy sat motionless for a moment, confused, feeling the unusual effect of the situation take total command of her senses. At last she could no longer remain sitting there, doing nothing, while Lucy prepared to satisfy herself to the fullest on the banquet of male flesh waiting beneath her. She must share Frank as well, she though jealously, leaning forward to her knees and crawling to one side of his beautiful prone form.
"Wait let's take off all our clothes and surprise Joel when he comes back," Lucy whispered. Both of them wordlessly followed the suggestion, wriggling out of their jeans and tossing them in a haphazard pile next to the men's clothes. When they were both utterly naked, Lucy's mature, full-fleshed form made a striking contrast to Nancy's firm, slightly girlish contours in the first flashes of radiance from the renewed, roaring fire.
They were both so desirable, so willing, that Frank was having a difficult time trying to decide which one he wanted to go down on him first. Finally, his sex-weakened mind chose Lucy, because she was the aggressor this evening, and he reached up to place both of his hands behind her head, bending her neck down to him until her mouth was poised tantalizingly over the palpitating head of his granite-like cock. He arched upwards a little, his ass-cheeks rising from the ground, until the visibly pulsating head of his penis was pressed gently on her slightly parted lips. He could barely hold himself back from bucking up and sinking himself between the plush lips that brushed and teased against the highly sensitive skin of his prick-head. Her lips closed abruptly at the first contact and he held his breath, expecting her to pull away . . . but there was no rebuff. Instead, Lucy's lips parted wider and her head pressed down of its own accord, accepting the prick between the soft rounded "O" of her lips and closing thrillingly over the tightly stretched tip. It was a dream . . . the hot moist flesh circling him.
It was more than Nancy could bear, watching Lucy engulfing Frank's cock with her mouth, and she moved in to crowd the older woman aside, until Lucy was compelled to take a position at the man's side in order not to lose the prick in her mouth. Nancy then lowered herself and grabbed the wide trunk of the cock with one hand, while with the other she wound her fingers around the pulsing spheres of his balls. She could feel Lucy's sucking ovaled mouth sliding down the shaft to touch her grasping fist.
Returning from his chore at the fire, Joel heaved a deep sigh of arduous approval at the picture of Lucy and the sweet little redhead clamoring like bitches in heat over Frank's big cock. He stood quietly at the edge of the quilt, watching his wife suck hungrily at the long gleaming rod buried in her throat. Then his own cock sprang to a greater aching tautness as he saw Nancy scoot down flat on her belly between Frank's wide splayed legs and flick out her tongue to tickle at the gathered ridge of flesh between the softness of his balls. Lucy continued to suck voraciously, taking more and more of the prick into her mouth with each downward stroke, while Nancy's pink tongue massaged the tender flexible skin of the scrotum.
The rancher was agog as he stepped closer, not trusting his eyes when he saw Nancy actually suck one of the big balls into her mouth, her fingers working desperately to fit in the second one as well!
Scorching torrents of sexual fire lapped at Frank Summerwell's mind and body as he watched the two passionate females working, sucking and swallowing his fiery cock and testicles. The muscles of his stomach flexed until he was certain they would snap from the intensity of his pleasure as he arched his back higher and higher to receive the maximum benefit of the sucking mouths. God, what a brain-reeling sight! The thin red-stained ridges of Lucy's mouth pulling out from her face as she bobbed up yet clung avidly to his swollen cock. And his balls now out of sight in Nancy's wide stretched mouth, suffocating her despite the fact that she tickled and swiped with her lizard-quick tongue at the sperm-filled sacs. . . .
Joel was rabid with lust as he watched the party taking place just a few feet from where he stood, licking his fever-dry lips, grimacing when he saw Lucy jerk the wet cock from her sucking lips and bend it toward Nancy, who instinctively raised her head and closed her mouth over the thick, turgid glans. Once again, the young girl almost choked from the sheer size of the penis disappearing between her puckered lips. She sucked at it madly and could feel the writer's reaction to the fresh mouth over him. She was wholly involved in her performance and now pushed to the back of her mind any reservations she had had about sharing Frank with the other woman.
"Grab my cock, baby, and put it up to your asshole," she heard the wheezing Joel command. She had not noticed his return from the campfire, let alone sensed him creeping on his hand and knees up behind the upraised circles of her buttocks. The rancher delivered a sharp slap to her hip to show that he meant business, and then, hesitantly, but fearful he would carry out his threat to call her father and tell him about Frank, she reached behind her to seize the trembling shaft, aiming the enormous tip at tfye tiny brown ring of her tight, hairless little anus. Joel's cock leaped in her hand and he pushed forward as Nancy began to rub the oozing head up and down the full length of her vaginal split, lubricating it further with the now copiously flowing juices. There was an outward pressure on her ankles and she did not resist as the panting man pressured her legs open wider . . . until the insides of her calves grazed the knees of his bent legs.
"Dammit, go on, Joel fuck the hot little whore in the ass," Lucy goaded as she shifted her stimulated torso higher on Frank's body and took hold of her own right breast, squeezing the resilient flesh to bursting fullness as she offered the wide dark brown ring of the nipple to the man's mouth. Damn, what a beautiful sight, Joel thought, his body shaking spastically as he leered at his wife's tit in the stranger's mouth, at Mel's teenage daughter sucking the huge cock with her pretty little asshole so vulnerable and open, his hardened rod pressed up against it. He had waited a long time to fuck this smart-assed little teenager, and now it was his turn, by God, whether she was ready or not. He wanted to ram into her as deep as possible, further than she could take, to show the bitch that Joel Dawson was by no means too old to fuck any woman until she couldn't talk.
Lowering himself a little, Joel spread the cheeks of Nancy's firm, rounded young buttocks wide apart and then pushed forward until she felt a slight pop at her anus . . . and then . . . then an unbearable spasm of pain so acute that she twisted and screamed, again and again, spitting out the cock she had been sucking as she writhed and struggled frantically to escape the agony in her rectum. Her buttocks were waving like a flag in a stiff wind, thrashing in all directions, but her movements only helped to drive the abnormally thick penis deeper inside her virginal rectum. She could feel the weight of the lust crazed man's body pressing down on her with a pulverizing strength, flattening her lower torso, punishing the delicious, white little ass with a hungry vengeance. She bucked back up at him, trying to throw him off as she bucked, but he only rammed harder, imbedding himself all the way up to his balls in the tender, flaccid tunnel of her ass.
"Noooooaaaaaahhh! Eeeeeeaaah!" she screamed in pain, continuing her useless struggle against the perverted attack from behind. She no longer felt human with the monstrous, flexing male organ ripping far up into her rectum, pushing against the bottom of her belly inside. She felt as though she had been reamed open back there by a huge log, mutilated forever by the brutal fleshy pole sunk in her backside. Then, moaning with resignation, her strength failed and she collapsed in a limp mass beneath the rigid body of the animal-man behind her.
Her loathing of Lucy returned when she saw the woman leering sadistically at her, watching her husband's depraved, cruel rape of her rectum.
"How do you like having it in the ass, honey," Lucy hissed as Frank continued to suck hard on her tit.
That lewd question increased Nancy's feeling of degradation a thousand-fold, to know that the older woman was watching it all and enjoying Nancy's shame and inhuman humiliation at the hands of her bestial husband.
"Just relax, honey, and it'll hurt less," Lucy went on. Her instructions were a mockery to Nancy and the girl set her teeth to prevent another cry from escaping her lips. Suddenly, miraculously, the pain in her back passage eased a little. She still felt torn and stretched wide there, but the short time Joel had lain on her, not moving, had given her anus an opportunity to gradually adjust to the forced entry. Defiled as she was, she would call on every last reserve of her courage and show that whorish old bitch that even a fourteen-year-old girl could play this sex game as well as she could.
Joel groaned unexpectedly as he felt the skewered teenager's anal muscles tighten and relax, tighten and relax around the thick length of his buried cock. The shaft throbbed harder and he could not believe his eyes when he saw the girl actually rise to her knees and begin to rotate her buttocks in a slow, barely perceptible motion in front of him. He tightened and released his penis deep in her rectum as an answering signal, still not thoroughly convinced that she was really responding to him. He groaned as he felt it, felt her now slippery anal passage flex around him like a warm fitting glove. Holy Christ, he had really conquered her -she was liking it! Gasping and moaning in fresh delight, he grasped her hips with his hands and pulled her back more snugly against him, beginning a rhythmical fucking motion far into the soft confines of her asshole. He watched with trembling delight as the pinkish brown skin of her puckered little rectum drew back with his hard, purple-veined cock, clasping to it as firmly as a baby's sucking mouth on the breast.
In the meantime, Frank snarled impatiently at the loss of Nancy's satiny, pink lips around his towering, swollen prick. He reached down and seized it, aiming the cocktip at his young mistress's open, gasping mouth. The girl did not have to be encouraged further and bowed her head to once more lock her eager lips around the staff. Nancy was obviously feeling no pain now, but unadulterated pleasure, for she was thrusting and squirming back to meet the obscene impalement of her rear passage, then diving forward with Frank's in-stroke to swallow as much as possible of the wildly throbbing penis in front of her.
Lucy was observing with bulging eyes the double fucking from both the front and back the girl was getting and could not tolerate for another instant her own passive role in the orgiastic scene. Cramming more of her huge tit in Frank's mouth, she reached down with one hand and grabbed one of Nancy's bouncing breasts, pulling and clutching at the freely suspended globe of firm rounded flesh as though she were milking it. Her sharp fingernails then scraped harshly across the girl's stiffened nipple, causing a muffled moan of pleasure-pain to issue from Nancy's cock-filled mouth. For a fleeting moment, Lucy found herself thinking of how wonderful it would be to suck the breast, not as a lesbian, but because the creamy symmetrical orb was so sensuously beautiful and appealing. But now her moist pussy was screaming for attention, for a cock, a tongue, anything in it.
She withdrew her own bruised tit from Frank's mouth, gasping as she tugged the nipple free from his sucking lips, and shifted her body up, raising herself to her knees and then swinging herself around to straddle the blonde's lust-twisted face in a position where she could still see Nancy and Joel.
"Hurry, suck it . . . suck my cunt," she said, lowering her steaming wet vagina down to Frank's mouth. Nancy watched out of the corner of her eye as Frank gazed up into the palpitating opening of Lucy's cunt, then running out his tongue into the soft hair-fringed labia and finally pressing his gaping mouth over the clasping viscous slit. She saw Lucy Dawson's mouth fly open at the hot exciting contact and remembered how the handsome writer had mouthed and licked at her own little pussy before entering it with the long thick cock that she was now sucking with all her intuitive skill and enthusiasm. Behind her the impassioned and raging Joel gurgled and grunted each time he surged up into her and she too was in breathless ecstasy under him, twisting and grinding the lush whiteness of her firm, rounded buttocks back at him in a lewd invitation to fuck into her harder and deeper. He increased the power of his long, smooth strokes, ramming the entire length of his plunging cock into her sensitive depths. Her beautiful long red hair spilled down, covering Frank's thighs and occasionally swirling as with a sudden or particularly hard thrust she bucked forward and choked on the cock that was fucking impossibly far up into her slavishly working throat. He inched his hands from her hips proper to grasp her ass-cheeks, yanking the smooth moons wider apart to allow him to fuck deeper. Then she felt him deliver an extra deep stroke and pause, slowly and deliberately withdrawing the full measure of his cock out of her until only the tip was in her. . . . And again he slammed it home with the force of a jack-hammer, again slowly pulling it almost all the way out.
"Oh good, yes, fuck me that way! Oooohhhh!" she cried as he plowed into her and filled her smooth, rubbery anal walls with the giant blood-engorged head. Becrazed now, she locked her mouth tightly and warmly around it and sucked at Frank's penis with a zeal that brought a quiver to his writhing flanks.
Nancy felt the prick in her ass jerk, stretching and expanding her tormented rectum even more, and she knew what was about to happen, that Lucy's husband was swelling and on the verge of erupting in her cock-filled bowels. Then she heard a gruff, passionate roar behind her and felt his tremendous throbbing rod of flesh burst like a dam as he gave one last buttock-flattening lunge into the softness of her upraised rear, emptying his pent-up load of sperm in spurt after spurt deep into the depths of her new wildly contracting belly. Nancy thought the ejaculating cock would never stop shooting into her and could feel the hot sticky fluid overflowing and trickling down the backs of her thighs. Oh God, it was glorious, she thought, to have a male's, any male's, hot cum filling her asshole, swelling her stomach, running out and down to trickle through her flame-seared pussy lips. She uttered a deep sigh of disappointment as she felt the cock inside her begin to deflate and grow limp. There was a loud wet, slurping sound as it slipped out from between her buttocks and she felt a sudden shock of cold breeze rushing over her unplugged anus.
Still, though, she sucked hungrily at Frank's stone-hard penis in front of her as he massaged Lucy's clitoris with his tongue, frequently tracing its tip down her greedily contracting cuntal lips to the vaginal opening and darting far in. He was now reaching up with both hands and gripping Lucy's swaying passion-tinted breasts, clinging to them as though they were life-rafts that kept him afloat in his sea of madness.
Lucy was also nearing orgasm, grinding her hips down to receive every iota of erotic pleasure she could get from the writer's voraciously licking tongue.
"Oh God, I'm cumming, I'm cummmmming!" she shrieked, her hands reaching down beneath Frank's head, tangling her fingers in the tousled thatch of his blonde hair and pulling higher, upward to bury the masculine face hard into her roiling cunt, rolling and pressing down her flanks in abandoned, pure pleasure.
Nancy could not restrain herself from pausing to watch the exciting display of orgasm, envious that the older woman had cum and yet she had not been brought to completion. As Lucy lifted herself from Frank and collapsed beside him on the quilt, next to where Joel had also crawled to lie heaving and exhausted, Nancy felt the prick in her throat pulse faster and grow to such a size that she feared her lips would tear painfully apart at the sides of her mouth.
"Suck it, bitch, suck it up! I'm cumming, cummming!" the muscular man chanted insanely. Nancy gagged and choked as her virile lover's mighty torrent shot into the back of her mouth, welling up to fill her rosy cheeks until she was forced to swallow rapidly to keep up with his volcanic gush of cum. But it was more than she could handle and thin trails of the creamy white substance trickled out of her mouth and down onto the throbbing veins of the cock, and further, down on the now-depleted balls that she had sucked and tickled with her tongue a few short minutes before.
The satiated writer cast an idiot smile toward Nancy as she raised her head from the spent, deflating prick, her mouth smeared with his male sperm and her own saliva. She was still wild with the need to achieve a cumming just as the others had, but both men were useless now. . . . Her frustration was too much to hold back and she rose, turning away to hide the tears of unfulfillment streaming copiously down her cheeks.
After awhile, she gained control of herself and picked her way carefully among the others, gathering her clothes, saying nothing about the desire still smoldering in her limbs. She knew that it would be senseless, that she would have to wait for another time, she hoped in the not too distant future.
As she walked quietly back to the cache of gear to get her bedroll, she heard the sound of hooves drumming in one of the next canyons . . . and then several faint snorts and a neighing louder than the other sounds. Her heart began to race again as the sound penetrated her to the very bone. . . . And then there was nothing . . . nothing but the vast silence of the mountains accompanied by an occasional hoot from the owl that had roosted nearby.
She spread out her bedroll a dozen yards from the glowing coals of the fire, dressed for warmth, and climbed in, her eyes and ears still alert for sounds or movements in the black night.
CHAPTER 6
Nancy awoke the next morning with her brain still dazed and reeling from the extraordinary orgiastic experience of the night before. She lay there wondering if it had all really taken place as she remembered now. Every vivid detail flashed like neon in her mind, making her dizzy even as she lay flat on her back under the down-filled sleeping bag.
"Oh Lord, how can I face the others?" she asked herself when she heard sleepy snatches of conversation around the breakfast campfire. Peering out from the bag, she saw her father and Frank huddling across from each other at the fire, each man applying himself to the preparation of the morning meal. Lucy was nowhere in sight, but turning her head a little, she saw that Joel was busy reloading the pack animals with bedrolls and sundry pieces of gear they had used to make camp.
"Hey, honey, did last night tire you out that much? Aren't you going to get up?" came Lucy's voice from behind. Startled, Nancy whirled around and saw the handsome woman standing a few feet away, already fully dressed and holding the reins of two horses she had saddled.
"I I guess I overslept," Nancy heard herself apologize, hating the timidity of her words even as she spoke them.
"Well, it was quite an evening, I admit," Lucy said softly, ignoring the girl's discomfort. "I hope like hell we don't find those damned horses today . . . so maybe we can all get together for more of the same tonight."
Nancy declined to comment on the woman's stated wish, but had to admit, even in the cold stark light of morning, that she would also feel little regret if they were forced to spend another night in the mountains. If it turned out that way, perhaps this time she would be allowed to reach the same sexual release that the others had enjoyed . . . mostly at her expense.
Later, as the group sat in a semi-circle eating crisp bacon and thin griddle cakes, the talk turned to their plans for the day. Frank, between sips of coffee, explained the best route from the ridge they were on down to the boxed-in gorge that he had mentioned on the previous day. Only then, at the writer's reference to the gorge, did Nancy suddenly remember that she had heard the wild horses just before turning in the night before. Excitedly she recounted everything she could recall, down to the thrilling sound of the loud neighing, a sound that had risen above the whinnying and thundering hooves of the other horses.
"That was probably the stallion," Frank said. "I've heard him neighing like that. . . . It's almost blood-curdling. . . . But from what Nancy says about the hoof beats she heard last night," he continued, his own excitement mounting, "it seems likely that they'll be in that gorge. If we hurry, we might be able to close in on them before they move on."
"Come on, then, let's break camp and get moving," Mel Leeds shouted, stirring everyone to his feet with the mighty booming voice. Ten minutes later, the group had packed up and extinguished the coals of the fire. A general air of adventure was in everyone's veins, even Lucy's, as they lifted themselves astride their horses and waited until Frank took the lead down the narrow trail.
Nancy had never seen such beautiful country. As they breasted the next ridge, she saw the sun boring its rays through the misty veils in the canyons and valleys, the distant ridges and peaks sticking up like islands out of the low-hanging clouds. Ah, it was all too much, too glorious to believe . . . the light . . . the deep purity of the sky . . . the sunny freshness lighting the trees and brush. She began to understand Frank perhaps for the first time: why he had chosen to live alone in this country . . . and why sometimes he changed so abruptly from an intelligent, considerate man into a demanding, primitive beast of a man. This vast wild land had instilled itself in his very marrow and sometimes took over his soul and body. Oh Lord, she loved him, keenly, almost to the point of pain; and she Wanted him inside her, in her welcoming warm vagina, to draw from his sperm the strength and stamina she needed herself. Then, again remembering the night before, she felt a glow of piquant warmth flow through her as she realized that his white cum was mingled in her blood, that by now she must have absorbed at least some of it into her system, so that he was physically a part of her being.
They rode on in silence for another forty-five minutes, following Frank under shady arches where the trail was level, then around time-bleached croppings of rock and down shale slides where the horses were forced to half sit and brace their front legs in order to keep from trembling forward, head-over-heels.
"All right, I think we should proceed very quietly and carefully from here on in. The gorge is only about a quarter of a mile from here," Frank cautioned.
"What do you think, Frank, Joel, should we tether the pack-horses here and take along only what we need to build a barricade at the mouth of the gorge?" Mel asked.
"That sounds good to me," Frank answered, nodding his approval of the plan back to where Joel was bringing up the rear with the heavily-laden pack-animals.
"Yeah, sure. The fewer horses, the less noise," Joel agreed. "Nancy, since you're handiest, how about helping me stake 'em out over there. Looks like decent grazing and there might even be some water, green as it is." Joel was pointing to a grassy patch of shady, sun-mottled clearing off to the right of the trail, visible only from where she and the older rancher were sitting on their horses. It would be the first time that Nancy had faced the man who had fucked into her rectum, for she had avoided him as much as possible all morning. Her father had ordered her to ride toward the back of the party, just ahead of Joel, and she had felt the man's lewd eyes fixed on her curvaceous backside most of the morning.
"Sure, Joel, I'll give you a hand," she said coolly as she dismounted and tied Happy's reins to a branch. She took the lead rope that Joel handed her and led the lathered animal off the trail and into the tiny clearing, Joel and the other horse close behind her. When the man had satisfied himself with an especially lush section of grass next to five or six shallow pools of water which had seeped up from what were probably artesian wells, he drove in two aluminum stakes and securely fastened the long lead-ropes, then busied himself with the task of removing the gear they would need to construct a barricade and prevent the wild band of horses from escaping the gorge.
"How do you feel today?" he asked Nancy when he had finished rolling the needed gear into a canvass bundle. "I sure hope your little hind-end ain't sore today. . . . But don't worry, it'll be a whole lot easier from now on."
Nancy flushed with anger and spun around on her heel, not bothering to rebuke Joel for his crass remarks. Later, when the time was just right, she would draw Frank aside and spill out her heart to him about her feelings toward him as well as about the crude rancher's intimation that he planned to feast on her body in the future. They could discuss possible solutions to the Dawson's blackmailing of them. And then-she could visualize it so clearly Frank would take her in his arms, tenderly assuring her that they had nothing to fear. . . . They would make love, alone and happily, until they both were sated and content just to be together, holding each other.
As the group drew closer to the mouth of the gorge, everyone's anxiety rose to a high pitch. Happy was nervous and pranced skittishly from side to side of the trail, snorting and sweating while Nancy cooed to him, gently patting his neck in an attempt to calm the big sorrel stallion.
"He probably smells the wild ones," Mel whispered, pointing ahead toward the gorge as he turned in his saddle to look at the others. "Let's keep our eyes peeled for fallen logs and whatever else we can use to shut off the end of the gorge. What about it, Frank, how wide is the mouth?"
"Only about ten or fifteen yards at the mouth's narrowest point," Frank answered softly. "I figure that Nancy and Lucy can ride in about two or three hundred feet in front of us and shy them back while we build the barricade. That sound okay to everyone . . . Joel? Girls?"
"I don't see any other way," Joel nodded. "But I think the women ought to take the rifles for safety in case that crazy black bastard decides to run right through us. Anyway, they can fire in the air every so often to discourage the buggers from heading our way."
"That's a good idea. . . . And listen you two," Mel gravely admonished, "you gals don't hesitate to shoot 'em between the eyes if they won't stop runnin' toward you."
After everyone had agreed, they rode on at a slightly brisker pace in case the herd had already scented them and might be heading out of the gorge to investigate. But when they reached the narrow mouth, about five minutes later, there was no sign or sight of the wild horses. They urged their mounts into a circle and held a brief conference, finally accepting Frank's assurance that the wild band was in there, grazing and still unaware of any threat to their freedom. Just then, when Frank had finished speaking, he noticed with excitement that there was a yellow cloud of dust muddying the bright blue sky about a half mile away, rising up from the direction in which the gorge seemed to run.
"That's your herd, Mr. Leeds. . . . They're in there, all right," Frank beamed.
"Goddammit, let's get movin' then," Joel barked.
As planned, the two women rode a short way into the deep gorge, each carrying a loaded rifle, while the three men scouted the immediate area for barricade material. They worked steadily for the better part of an hour, sweating and cursing as they roped logs, fallen trees, boulders and pieces of brush, using their sturdy mounts to drag the barrier material into position. Frank remained at the entrance, placing rocks and pieces of brush between the heavier logs and stumps and boulders to create the effect of a solid wall. He toiled almost soundlessly, leaving a small opening at the left side through which Mel and Joel could ride when the blockade was complete. Then they would climb up to a spot on the cliff wall where there was a great boulder perched. Using thick sticks as levers, they would pry the boulder loose and let it drop into the open slot at the end of the barricade.
Nancy and Lucy sat their horses at a point where the gorge widened to about three hundred yards from wall to wall, becoming a small canyon. They could see that it narrowed again, and ran off to the right, on the far side of the meadow they faced. Nancy was thoroughly excited, her limbs trembling as a peculiar mixture of intoxicating sensations made her heart pound and threaten to burst free of her chest. She was thinking of Frank when she heard them a sound that grew and echoed ominously, bouncing off the steep walls like a series of muffled gunshots. Then they appeared!
They rounded the bend in the gorge like phantoms, a legend come alive, but raising dust and a chorus of percussive hoof beats as no ghosts ever had before. There was something missing, though: the fabled black stallion was nowhere to be seen. Nancy and Lucy waited, watching them pour around the bend in an unbroken stream, until at last there were no more. The herd slowed to a trot and fanned out about a third of the way across the meadow, milling and confused at the sight of the mounted women blocking the exit. Several of the mares in the vanguard of the pack stopped and stood whinnying, looking back toward the narrow swerve in the gorge.
"Don't worry, everyone, he's back there," Nancy heard Frank say behind her. "He must've heard us and driven them out from the rear. You'll see him soon enough. . . . Meanwhile, I think Mel and Joel will agree that you girls should turn over those rifles. You can't tell, that son-of-a-gun might just decide to push the whole herd right through us, barricade and all." Nancy and Lucy obeyed without a word, handing over the weapons to Frank, who in turn passed them to Mel and Joel, leaving himself unarmed.
The party sat patiently for several minutes, watching the wild horses move restlessly on their end of the clearing, sometimes halting abruptly in their tracks to stand and stare at them and the barrier looming at the exit. There were approximately sixty head in all, a motley mixture of dust-caked sorrels, blacks, and roans sprinkled with flecks of white and blue as though someone had painted them while drunk.
"Jesus, it's a shaggy bunch!" Mel exclaimed as he eyed the herd. "Most of 'em are too damned scrawny to ride, let alone use as stock horses."
"They're tough, though, and smart," Joel said. "Wait'll you see the black one that'll change your tune."
At that moment he trotted into view, a jet-black stallion at least seventeen hands high, his nostrils flaring as he snorted out defiance, rejoicing in his freedom of motion, his feet lifting and falling like pistons with minds of their own. He slowed to a walk about halfway through the herd, occasionally veering to one side to nip at the flanks of one or two nervous mares along the way. At the fore of the pack, he stopped and seemed to think, his dark eyes absorbing every detail of the situation confronting him. It was as if he were human, Nancy thought, allowing her gaze to rove over every inch of his magnificent wild body. She had never seen such a wonderful animal, with such flawless conformation, such pride and dazzling spirit.
"Well, I'll be . . . " Mel started, his voice hushed with awe and respect for the big stallion. Even Joel was spellbound, unable to move or speak as he drank in the sight of the black horse. . . . In all his years as a rancher, the greying man had seen many fine horses. And he had seen this horse before, but never this close, close enough to truly appreciate his perfect lines and strength. Now he was sorry that he had offered to bring the horse in for Mel; he wanted the devil for his own.
"Watch it!" Mel shouted. "He's movin' in on us!"
Joel responded immediately and aimed his rifle in the air, firing several shots skyward to frighten the advancing stallion. But the black demon merely tossed his head and continued to walk toward them. Nancy swiveled her head toward Joel and saw with horror that he was aiming directly at the outlaw stud's chest.
"No, don't shoot him!" Nancy screamed.
"She's right. He'll stop. He's just testing us now, to see if we've got balls enough to stand in his way." Nancy had never loved her father as much as she did at that moment for saving the beautiful creature's life. Mel was right, too, for the stallion stopped less than a hundred yards in front of them, neighed angrily, and pivoted on his hind feet to turn and trot nonchalantly back to a spot just in front of the milling herd.
"Why don't we try to run them back to the box at the end of the gorge before the stallion comes up with a scheme we haven't provided for?" Frank asked, the tremor in his voice betraying the anxiety he felt. "I'm not much at roping, but I'll hang back and haze for you."
Mel bobbed his head up and down, smiling like a kid at the circus, and then shifted in his saddle to gaze gleefully into Joel's eyes. The older rancher's face broke into a correspondingly wide grin as he leaned far back in his saddle and let loose a cry that caused the wild herd to jump and scatter.
" Yaaaaaaaheeeee!"
Then the two ranchers galloped off, spurring their horses and sheathing the rifles in scabbards as they tore headlong toward the frightened mustangs. Nancy was swollen with pride as she watched her father and Joel, with Frank close behind, approaching the band of horses. She marveled at how the men handled their lariats, shaking out loops as they bore down on the nervous black leader of the herd. At the last second, when the men seemed dangerously near, the stallion screamed and wheeled around, actually charging bodily into the rumps of some of the horses as he drove them around the bend and toward the box-end where they would have to halt, trapped.
When they were out of sight and only a boiling mass of fine dust was left, Nancy began to shake more violently than ever. She felt her eyes fill with tears as she found herself hoping that the valiant stud would somehow escape. She had read of the tragic plight of wild horses in America, that they were hunted by so-called sportsmen and bounty-hunters, and would soon be a thing of the past if they were not protected by new laws. Even Lucy was strangely silent, as though she too were experiencing the fear and panic of the penned-in herd. Her companion's next remark, however, showed Nancy that she had been wrong:
"I hope this little game of theirs doesn't take forever. Let's pray that they catch that black one right away, so they won't be too tuckered out to fuck us on the way home."
"Lucy!"
"What! Don't tell me you're not aching for some more of my husband's thick cock . . . I saw you last night, the way you twitched your sweet little ass back to get every inch. And I noticed that you didn't mind gulping down your boyfriend's cum, either. Just watch it, kid, and don't tempt me to spout off to your old man that you're a cock-sucking little slut."
"But Lucy, you don't understand I love Frank."
"Shit."
"Believe me, I do," Nancy bristled. "God knows, I wouldn't have allowed your creaking old husband to rape me that way if it hadn't been for what you two were holding over Frank and me."
"Correction, honey. You mean what we are holding over you and don't forget it." They were silent then, both fuming within themselves from the other's remarks, wracking their brains for insults equal to the hostility they felt. The whole issue hinged on their mutual attraction to Frank, his charm and obvious sexual appeal. But Nancy had added an extra dimension to her feelings for him love. It was something she was certain that Lucy, in her wanton desire, would never understand about the relationship. Still, though, Nancy could not help but painfully recall the fervor with which he had sucked Lucy's breast, and then her vagina, until the woman had moaned in sexual abandonment and had finally climaxed. The girl now wondered just how much of the handsome writer's zeal had been in the line of duty giving his share of the payment to buy the Dawsons' silence about what they had seen and how much had been the result of sheer pleasure on his part. Yet, how could she blame him either way? She too had yielded to her body's demands, had actually drowned in the ecstatic feelings that had swamped her while Joel Dawson brutalized her virgin rectum. . . . It was all too much for her now, too much to piece together in any rational order until she could discuss everything with Frank. Meanwhile, she thought, it could not make things any worse but could definitely make them more confortable if she softened up the rancher's wife with a bit of old-fashioned kindness.
"Lucy, insulting each other this way isn't going to get us anywhere. I'd like to be friends if it's still possible."
"Maybe you're right, honey," Lucy said with a smile spreading over her face. "I'm sorry I spouted off like that. . . . And I'm also sorry if I botched things up between you and Frank. Just try to understand I'm still a young woman, with all the needs a woman has, and your blonde boyfriend turns me on. I can't help it any more than you can. But I don't kid myself that I'm in love with him. It's that big cock of his that I'm interested in. And you'd better ask yourself if that isn't his main attraction for you as well."
Nancy was staggered by the woman's complete honesty, so much so that she began to wonder if Lucy might be altogether right. Perhaps she had allowed her girlish heart to blind her to the real facts: that she was no more in love with Frank than he was with her; that their sole interest in each other was entirely sexual, as much an adventure as was this crazy scheme of her father's to save stud fees by capturing a loco black stallion.
Just then the pair heard three rifle shots in the gorge beyond. Nancy's first impulse was to spur Happy full speed across the meadow and around the bend, to see if anyone had been hurt or was in danger, but she knew that her father would never forgive her for interfering and exposing herself to further risk.
"Try not to fret, Nancy, it's probably just one of the boys shooting into the air to haze the herd into a better position," Lucy soothed.
"But they've been in there quite a while now," Nancy objected, "and I'm worried that they might be in trouble."
"I expect they're having a fair share of trouble, all right, trying to put ropes around that beautiful black boy's neck," the older woman agreed, "but the men know their business. They're not taking any unnecessary chances."
"I hope not. . . . They're pretty important men to us," the pretty redhead said, grinning warmly at Lucy.
A few minutes later their suspense was ended, for the ebony black stallion raced around the bend and into view with two taut ropes around his powerful neck. Behind him came Mel and Joel, desperately spurring their horses' flanks to stay close to the big wild leader. Once they were far enough into the clearing, both men reigned their mounts to ride off obliquely in opposite directions, stringing the infuriated stallion between them as they slowed to a trot and finally a walk. The wild one was forced to slow down as well, at last coming to a complete standstill, his eyes wide and rolling as he screamed and pawed the ground, proudly defying the men who hampered his freedom. A moment later, Nancy saw Frank draw his horse to a halt beside her father. The two men switched mounts then and Mel rode to a spot about twenty feet in front of the stallion while Frank kept the rope tight.
"Your daddy's going to try roping the devil's front feet," Lucy explained as the two women watched Mel Leeds shake out his second lariat to form a medium-sized loop. . . . They saw the big man nod toward Joel, who fired his rifle into the air as though it were part of a prearranged plan. The stallion jumped at the sharp sound, straining forward mightily against the ropes until his front hooves were virtually off the ground. Mel's loop snaked out and fell in a wide circle under the outlaw's elevated forefeet, then came alive again, lifting and closing around the beast's ankles when the big rancher whipped it with a single downward thrust of his arm. Rapidly twisting his end of the rope around the saddle horn, Mel urged his mount backwards and made the third restraining rope humming tight.
"Okay, hold him steady!" Nancy heard her father shout to the other men. She watched awe-stricken as her father slowly eased his dun-colored gelding to a position that was in a forty-five degree line with the black horse. Then, again nodding to each of his assistants, Mel pulled hard on the gelding's reins and clucked to him, moving him backwards until the pressure on the rope made the wild stallion lose his balance and fall to the ground with a resounding thud. The rugged animal struggled to regain his feet as he continued to scream and snort out his hatred of his captors, but was unsuccessful.
Nancy heaved a sigh of genuine relief when she saw all three men dismount and move confidently toward the downed stallion. She knew that now they would rope and tie his hind legs in order to approach him from the back. She had heard the men talking at breakfast about the potent tranquilizer they had brought along, and how they would inject it into the stallion's rump if they were lucky enough to catch him.
In a few short minutes it was all over. Mel signaled Nancy and Lucy and they rode up within a few yards of the great, fallen black outlaw leader.
"What do you think of the crazy bastard now?" Mel huffed, breathing hard from the Herculean exertions. "We've shot him full of that stuff the vet sold me, and I ain't afraid to admit I'm glad I had the good sense to bring it along. This is the goddamnedest, meanest son-of-a-bitch I've ever seen in my life. Hell, he's even meaner than Joel there!"
Everyone laughed and broke the extreme tension with relieved patter and jokes about how they were going to get the stallion back to Leeds Ranch, now that they had caught him. Everyone laughed and joked, that is, except Nancy. She was strangely quiet and stood looking into the captured beauty's wide defiant eyes, a sadness filling her as she realized that the magnificent creature would never again roam with his harem in the
Guadalupes. The legend was dead, finished.
"If it's all right with you, Mr. Leeds, I'll make a hole in the barricade," Frank said. "I guess you'll want to rest awhile in the clearing where we left the pack-horses."
"We'll do more than rest," Mel roared happily. "We'll set up camp there and get drunker than hell to celebrate. . . . Probably spend the night too!"
"I'll go for that," Joel said, a hint of shrewdness in his voice as he glanced suggestively toward Nancy.
CHAPTER 7
It was lovely and green, the rich glossy leaves of the trees on the perimeter of the clearing shaking and making music in the gentle mountain breeze. Only she and Frank were awake, walking hand in hand toward the spot where the black stallion was staked out. He was calmer now, seemingly resigned to captivity and the presence of people around him.
"Are you sure it can be done?" Nancy asked her companion, who squeezed her hand firmly in reassurance.
"Don't worry. I've seen it done before, several times. . . . Once in Texas and two more times in Mexican nightclubs," Frank said softly. "All you have to do is relax, let me help you . . . I can guarantee complete success."
It was insane, really insane, but just the thought of it set Nancy's blood racing. She was shaking violently at the thrilling prospect, its very strangeness, even though nothing had happened yet. But soon she would know, would feel the black horse inside her, just as Frank had promised. It was his idea, his plan, and she had become deeply aroused as he described the wonderful things she would feel. He had even thought to bring a lantern, so they would not have to fumble around in the dark.
The black horse was standing silently, waiting. He seemed to know Nancy and nickered when she ran her smooth white palms along his sleek, strong neck. Frank placed the lantern on a stump next to the horse, just close enough so that the creature's under-belly was clearly illuminated. Then her blonde lover undressed, stripping off his shorts to reveal his already hard cock. He moved close to her, lifting her face to his as he unbuttoned her shirt and the fly of her jeans. Then she was naked, suddenly exposed and vulnerable in front of Frank and the black stallion.
It was all so natural and yet like magic.
She watched Frank cautiously place a table he had built with strong saplings under the horse's belly, stroking the animal's shoulder and talking softly as he worked. Then the writer turned toward her with his huge, hardened cock in his hands.
"Stroke it for me, baby," he said in a barely audible voice, arching out his loins so that the swollen cock-head was only inches from the flat surface of her stomach. She reached out with one hand and touched the hard fleshy rod, circling her fingers almost all the way around it and slowly moving the loose skin back and forth over the pulsing, blood-filled veins. He in turn manipulated the full white mounds of her breasts, pinching the large nipples to stinging erection and causing her to squeeze her moistening pussy together with her thighs. She was boiling inside and moaned at the force of her own emotional heat.
"Now," she heard Frank say, "sit on that rock there and put two fingers in your cunt . . . to stretch it."
She did as she was told, willingly seating herself on the rock with her legs obscenely spread as she lowered her hand and slowly inserted first one and then two fingers in the hot wet cavern between her legs. The sensation of pleasure was so intense that she inserted even another finger and began to rotate them in a small circle as she pushed in and out of herself. She saw Frank nod his head in approval, encouraging her to continue what she was doing. It was the first time she had ever entered herself that way, for she had always believed the auto-erotic act to be sinful and unnatural. She was delighting in it now, though. . . . God, how she was delighting in it and yet she wanted more, something bigger . . . a real cock.
"Frank, darling, please, please," she begged, reaching for the man's jutting penis in a futile attempt to draw him close . . . close enough to fondle and suck on the beautiful length . . . and then guide it into her.
"No, Nancy, not now. Later, after the stallion," he admonished. "I think you're ready, so come here and stroke him to make his cock nice and hard for you."
Again, she obeyed the man and walked courageously up to the black horse, kneeling then as she patted his belly and stared at the penile sheath encasing the relaxed cock. She reached up to explore the heavy skin of the sheath with her delicate fingertips, making the stallion shudder and switch his tail from the unexpected contact. His movement frightened her a little, but she called on all her bravery and moved on her knees up closer to the dormant sex organ. Then with both hands she took a firm hold on the animal's sheath and began to push it gently back and forth, back and forth, until she felt it jerk and grow to semi-hardness in its housing. Her heart beat wildly as she stroked the horse, the authority of her hands increasing as his penis thickened more and more. She flinched momentarily when she saw the massive cock-head pop into view, followed by inch after inch of thick, semi-flaccid flesh resembling a long trunk. When about eight inches were unsheathed and dangling, she moved her hands down to touch the exposed flesh and run her fingers along the corded veins, tracing them delicately to the great knob on the end. Gradually the stud's responses quickened, his natural savage lust kindling and sparking his muscles to life. She labored on, fondling the ever-hardening cock as a bizarre, otherworldly series of fluttering feelings made her mind blur. Once more she was controlling the body of a male, a stallion, but nevertheless a male. And it was thrilling, despite her awareness that what she was doing was degrading her even in her own eyes.
Then, before she realized what was happening, the aroused black stallion's cock reeled out another four or five inches and sprang to stony erection. My God, it was twice as large as even Frank's abnormally huge penis! She watched with utter fascination as the tremendous length tightened and lifted to slap the stud's belly with a thud, forcing small spurts of semen to come from the dime-sized hole at the end.
"Okay, baby, now I'll fit the shield on him. I'll put it about a third of the way up from the base. . . . I'm pretty sure you can handle eleven or twelve inches of this big fella even if later you might be disappointed in my own merely human cock," Frank added with a shrugging laugh. She watched him squat on his haunches beside her and open the leather shield he had hastily fashioned just before they had left the campfire. It was a tough piece of rounded leather with two sticks affixed to it that ran down to another flat piece of leather. He carefully fitted the round shield around the girth of the horse's rigid shank, slipping it easily toward the thicker base where he tied it together with thin strips of leather thong. After the contraption was satisfactorily in position, he placed the two wooden struts and the leather foundation against the animal's belly.
"Oh, Frank, that big thing can't possibly fit inside me without tearing me to pieces. It's too much for any woman to take!" she protested, slowly convincing herself that she should turn and run. And yet her body was frozen to the spot, mesmerized as she gazed longingly at the beautiful stallion's throbbing phallus. Frank simply ignored her childish objections, chuckling to himself as he held the back of her head in one hand and pushed her mouth forward and upward toward the oozing head of the monstrous cock. Finally her lips touched the fleshy tip and she was immediately filled with an electric tingle that made her seep and pulse more strongly between her thighs.
"Don't be afraid he's been tranquilized again and won't kick up much fuss," Frank breathed hotly. "Just run your pretty little mouth along that prick of pricks, and you'll see that he'll behave. All he wants, like any other man, is a cunt wrapped around it."
Almost sobbing in an agony of lust, she firmly seized the jerking member and licked up and down its endless length with her pointed pink tongue, tasting the strong pungent cock-skin and relishing it. Then, without having to be told, she stepped beyond the bounds of all morality and reason, placing her soft well-formed lips over the semen-oozing hole at the very end, sucking then to draw into her mouth the clear sticky liquid.
"Jesus, look at her -sucking off a horse!" Frank panted to himself, his eyes shining with rapture as he observed the lewd spectacle. It was all he could do to keep from ramming his own cock between the creamy moons of her round young buttocks. And she knew it, teasing him with a slight circling motion of her ass, then reaching further under the horse to tickle the testicles as big as baseballs that hung down , between the sleek hair-covered interiors of his flanks. It was phantasmal . . . like a scene out of some medieval fairy tale . . . in which the fair maiden is spellbound by some mythical creature. It was as though an underworld demon had taken control of her young soul and she was possessed of an insatiable appetite for debasing humiliation.
With a deep moan, she realized that her body would give her no choice she would have to surrender to her own inhuman need to take the powerful black stallion into her stomach. Her mouth parted in sensual bliss as she dropped her hands from the colossal organ and allowed them to scurry over her own flesh, floating lightly over her soft ivory belly, then coming to rest on the auburn-colored vee at the entranceway to her womb. Groaning at the delicious contact with her "hard sensitive clitoris, she moved her mouth back from the stallion's cock and turned to stare imploringly at her companion.
"Oh God, Frank, I want him to fuck now!"
"Good. Get up on the table, then. I'll guide him in for you," Frank grinned in lewd anticipation of the sight he was about to witness. The stallion was stamping his forefeet impatiently, occasionally tossing his head and shaking his mane as he snorted with eagerness. A small pool of semen had formed on the ground next to Nancy, and she experienced a brief wave of regret that she had not taken that as well. She had never been so greedy, so thoroughly grasping and starved for greater heights of forbidden pleasure, despite the consequences.
As though in some sort of drugged daze, she listened to Frank's strangely distant voice, following his instructions without thought of questioning them. After all, he was her guru as far as sex was concerned; he was the first man who had caressed, ignited, and finally penetrated her virginal but voluptuous fourteen-year-old body that day in his cabin. And he had helped introduce her to the unusual refinements of group sex. Whom else could she turn to as a young woman faced with the overwhelming need to state the erotic drives lately awakened in her body? Of course she followed his instructions even if it meant taking on a horse!
Accepting the panting and blank-eyed Frank's assistance, she raised herself and gingerly settled into position on the makeshift table. Her face was approximately seven inches beneath the stallion's gleaming black underside and her long breath-taking legs were spread wide over the horizontal poles cushioned with blankets that supported her lower torso. She was ready now, ready for anything that Frank wanted to steer into her inflamed, moist pussy. She only wished he would hurry and guide the stallion's big prick into her aching, waiting cunt.
"Now, little girl, I want you to relax and think of how wonderful this is going to feel in a few minutes," Frank instructed as he pried her legs further apart and grabbed the stallion's gigantic lurching cock with one hand, while with the other he leaned forward and spread her cuntal lips with his fingers. The wet inner lips contracted from the cool rush of air that laved them, expanding again when the blonde man massaged the pea-like clitoris and then inserted three of his tanned, calloused fingers into the vaginal opening, spreading them to form a wide trident-like wedge that felt like the black beast had already entered her.
With both of his strong hands, Frank forced down the stud's jerking shaft and aimed the broad head directly at the young teenager's partially expanded pussy hole. She felt the huge flexing tip graze her pubic hair, sending her brain soaring anew in a fresh burst of unthinking passion. And then she felt Frank's hand part her cunt wider, the pressure on her distorted labia sending little arrows of exquisite pain up into her womb.
"Oh please, hurry! Stick it in me!" she wailed.
"I can't wait any longer."
Nor did she have to wait longer, for suddenly a searing explosion of excruciating pain washed up from her vaginal opening to completely engulf her mind and body. The black stallion's enormous cock-head had penetrated almost two inches between her widely stretched pussy lips and lay there throbbing and soaking like a red-hot poker doused in a tiny well of moisture.
"Aaaaaaaaagggggggghhhh! Ooooohhh Godddd!" she screamed in unbearable agony, writhing and beating on the ebony devil's belly with clenched fists as she attempted to escape. But there was no way off the cleverly constructed table, but down at the end, toward the very source of her hellish pain. Her struggles to free herself from the barbarous impalement only lodged the immense prick more securely, driving it in an additional three or four inches, splitting her wider. The stallion was rallying to the snug warmth surrounding him, and snorting, he lowered his rump a little to help him push forward into the tortured channel. Nancy could feel the black fiend pressuring deeper and deeper, stretching and pushing before him the tender pulsating pussy walls leading into her belly. She screamed again when the blunt unyielding glans crashed into her cervix, threatening to rip on through the narrow mouth and dislodge her very entrails.
"Ooooooh," she gasped as she felt her brutalized insides flowering wide open in a vain attempt to accommodate the massive cock. She was weeping and murmuring incoherently now as the excited stallion drew back his long horse-cock for another stupendous thrust into her. She could feel exactly where the giant prick had been, far up in her belly where a painful stinging sensation still throbbed.
Frank was kneeling beside her, his eyes alight with sadistic joy as he watched the unnatural event taking place right before him. He saw Nancy squirm and struggle on the crude table, her face pale and eyes closed tight against the awful rupture of her insides. Her pelvic region was only inches from his face and he was afforded a clear view of her dilated cuntal lips grasping the mammoth cock. They puckered outward, stretched and cruelly drawn each time the stud withdrew in readiness for another battering lunge. Frank reached up to squeeze Nancy's nearest breast, holding tightly to the full stark-white globe of soft flesh each time the horse drove into the girl, jarring her body and shaking the wooden table. The blonde writer's grasp was not as much to caress the redheaded teenager as to steady her under the increasing barrage of thrusts between her splayed legs. He was just as passionate as the black beast and was now stroking his own stiff penis as he drank in the scene.
The stallion plunged his great cock up and up, faster and faster into the soft warm tunnel, oblivious to the fact that he was fucking an almost virginal young human and not one of his many mares. Nancy's entire body bucked and jerked under the torturing onslaught and she moaned incessantly, her face now flushed in the flickering light from the lantern. Then . . . as though some occult charm had been worked . . . a peculiar new feeling came gradually over her body. Her mouth moved ceaselessly and her nostrils flared with the first throes of pleasure, a pleasure that was slowly being fanned to ecstasy.
Her mind reeling in a wild, shameless appreciation of her debasement, she heaved her buttocks upward toward the stallion's cock as though she were a mare in heat. She tensed and released, tensed and released her cuntal muscles in a maddening rhythm that caused the sex-crazed horse to ram even harder into her now willing cunt. Nancy felt him sink the remaining inch in her . . . all that was left between her pelvic mound and the leather shield that Frank had fitted on the huge cock. There was nothing that could stop her mindless race for fulfillment now, and she fucked back faster as though she were undergoing an epileptic seizure.
"Yes, oh yes," she cried into the night as the wild-eyed black outlaw continued to slide his thundering wet pole in and out of her. This is what she had been waiting for all her life, this beautiful animal-fucking, and she wondered if perhaps Frank had been right . . . that she might never again be satisfied with a mere man. She was a slave to this beast, a willing and eager servant to his lust, and she loved every vicious slam of his bulging cock into her gaping cunt. It was tearing her soul from her body, perhaps forever, and she could feel her vagina pouring out more and more slippery lubricant to deal with the hot, obscenely large shaft fucking into her. The moist, expanded hole down between her widespread legs was accepting him now, graciously and gladly, and the earlier pain had all but disappeared. She raised her quivering white ass to meet every thrust, and deep in her womb she could sense a white heat spreading out to flow over her whole being. She was no longer herself but a shaking mass of sweating, lust-deranged female flesh that begged to be subjugated. She was savoring her defilement, uncaring, incapable of thinking of sex as normal, healthy, or anything but a powerful, heavily-cored horse cock pistoning back and forth in her wide-stretched pussy, causing her to grind and groan like a feral animal herself. Yes, she was being fucked senseless by a dumb beast . . . by a prick bigger than she had known existed . . . and she wanted it to go on forever.
Frank's desire had reached a peak as he watched the wild, animal fucking Nancy was receiving. It was beautiful to see the big stallion's flanks humping, the thick muscles rippling like fish just under the surface of the brilliantly gleaming black hair. He envied the creature, wished that it were he plunging into the gorgeous young girl with the stud's ponderous cock. The writer's hand was still locked on the young girl's firm, quivering breast, and now he squeezed it again with a crushing strength, feeling her cringe slightly as spastic gasps of passion escaped his own lips.
"Jesus, oh Jesus," he rasped, increasing the speed with which he jerked up and down his own naked prick, the climax approaching its supreme moment in his loins. Suddenly he rose higher on his knees, pressing forward as the volume of his stormy passion burst and flooded his body and brain. Holding his lurching cock in one hand, he aimed it at the young teenager's bouncing, rounded tits and groaned deeply as the spurting stream of cum jetted out from the distended hole in the end. The thick gelatinous liquid landed like fire on her nipples and between the lovely swollen breasts, running in lewd trickles over the outer curves and finally down her sides just below the armpits.
"Oh God, baby, feel it! Feel my cum on your titties?" she heard through her dazed mind. Nancy twitched, not realizing at first what had happened, and then found herself wishing that he had shot his semen into her mouth, as he had before. The thought soon vanished, though, for she was too thoroughly involved in the insane, animal fucking she was getting to concentrate on anything else for very long. The huge cock kept skewering into her, now flexing even more, to greater girth, as the leather shield smacked like a paddle against her beating, superbly sensitized clitoris. Her body was slippery from the sweat of the wild, untamed gyrations of her ravenous loins and her head flailed uncontrollably from side to side on the table. She was insane and worked frantically to satisfy the inhuman monster fucking her, spiraling her cunt up and down crazily on his sinking prick. She was nearing her orgasm at last and moved her small hands to her cum-splattered titties, cupping and massaging them like big spongy balls made of rubber, her fingers slipping lewdly from the wetness of Frank's thick white sperm, him to fuck even faster as the sweeping rush of glorious paralyzing feeling filled every atom of her being, crippling her for an endless moment, then building again, higher this time, and breaking. . . . Rush after rush of orgasm swept through her body, empowering her with superhuman strength and yet leaving her helpless to control her movements with any semblance of purpose or direction.
"Oh God, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, you . . . you big black wonderful bastard! All of it I want all of it!" she chanted, panting hard, the whites of her eyes rolled up so that she seemed to be dying from the sheer delirium of her experience. It happened over and over, an unending chain of climaxes, each new one more intense and body-rocking than the last.
Suddenly the humping horse grunted and made one extra vicious lunge into the groaning adolescent's forever stretched vaginal passage. Nancy's drained body waited anxiously for the great event and with her cunt muscles she felt in awe as the exposed vein running along the lower section of the cock filled with hot, boiling sperm. Then it erupted!
Thick gushes of the creamy, pungent sperm flowed into her hotly working pussy, filling her belly until it bloated and seemed ready to blow apart. The jerking cock had come to a full stop, jerking out its lewd load between her wide-split thighs, a seemingly eternal flow of animal cum that crashed against her womb with the force of a geyser gone mad. It flowed seemingly up and out of her, even filling her breasts, as the pleasure-wracked creature stomped his hooves in the final spasms of orgasm, his long thick cock-trunk deflating and inching out of Nancy as he straightened up to his full height and eased backwards. The big rubbery cock dropped out of her with a sharp sucking noise and she felt the tide of sticky wet cum begin to pour from her open cunt lips like a slow-spilling waterfall. The softly spread crevice of her open buttocks was drenched with the substance as well as with her own torrential outpouring of heretofore damned-up cum juice.
She lowered her hands to her crotch and wiped them back and forth in the sperm-flooded crevice, then raising them, ran them over her hips and the flatness of her belly until the whole of her flanks and mid-section was bathed obscenely with the stallion's still-warm cum. Frank's sperm still glistened lewdly on her naked breasts.
CHAPTER 8
"Nancy, wake up! You're dreaming, baby-wake up!" Mel Leeds said urgently in his daughter's ear. She was perspiring freely and her pretty face was twisted in a grimace of torture and ecstasy that he could not understand.
"Huh what? . . . Daddy, it's you," she said softly, her eyes glimmering with a sleepy recognition of her father's huge form hovering over her. Gradually the landscape around her came into focus, the trees, the dark outline of the mountains beyond, the crackling campfire . . . all slowly assuming realistic shapes. It was dusk, several hours after she had settled down on her bedroll to catch a few minutes of rest after . . . after what?
"Oh, Daddy, it's you.. .what happened? Did we catch the black stallion?" she asked hurriedly, panic overcoming her at the thought that the horse might still be roaming the mountains. Fresh from the odd experience in the dream, she was still primitively aroused and yearned for the presence of the black marauder.
"Of course we caught him, honey. Don't you remember? You've just been sleeping and had a bad dream. That was it, wasn't it?" he laughed, relieved by his own conclusion.
"No . . . not a bad dream. . . . It was different, a strange dream," she said as she stretched her arms over her head and yawned lazily. Then she lay still, looking up at her father's concerned expression. It was then that she felt the tacky wetness between her thighs. She realized that she was weak, too, and could hardly lift her upper body to struggle into a sitting position. "Where's Frank?" she finally asked.
"Oh, don't worry about him," Mel answered. "He followed your example and took a snooze himself after the chores were finished and the wild one was bedded down. As for me, I'm going to catch a few winks myself. . . . It's been a hard day."
"Yes, it has . . . " Nancy said softly.
* * *
Later that evening, when everyone was awake and celebrating boisterously around the fire, Nancy signalled Frank with a covert glance, indicating that she wished to see him alone. They both rose, one a little behind the other so as not to draw the others' attention, and ambled casually to the outer edge of the clearing. When the pair had seated themselves on the very rock that Nancy remembered from her dream, Frank leaned over and gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek. Then they sat quietly, allowing themselves to be lost in the primeval hush of the night, thinking each to himself of various logical topics with which to open the conversation. After several minutes had passed, Frank spoke:
"Baby, listen to me, I'm sorry about the other night. I know you were frightened and that you went through hell when that silly bastard, Joel, came at you from behind. But believe me, there was nothing else we could do. What happened was surely a lot less painful than the mess there would've been if your dad had found out about us."
"No, you listen to me, Frank Summerwell," Nancy said sternly, "because there are a few things I've found out about you . . . things I should have known all along. First, I know that you don't really care about me, about me personally, and that you've been feeding me a line all along. All you've ever wanted from me was my body a young girl's body because you're alone so much and need a female to remind you that you're a man. It was especially sweet, wasn't it, to take an attractive young girl's virginity when you would have considered yourself lucky to have a woman at all? But I don't blame you for that really I don't. It's human, after all. I blame you for lying to me . . . for letting me believe that there was something more than just sex to our friendship."
"But Nancy -" Frank blurted, trying to break in.
"Please, hear me out . . . I was about to say that now I am becoming a woman, with a real woman's desire. And I understand how you were able to lie to get what you wanted. . . . As for Joel's fucking me from behind, I'm not ashamed to say that I enjoyed it and even wanted more. Oh yes, I kidded myself for awhile, thinking how cruel and savage it all was, but when it came down to the truth, I liked it.
"Oh, does that shock you, Frank?" she asked sarcastically when she noticed the man's expression of disbelief. "It shouldn't . . . it . . . it really . . . shouldn't!" Nancy bowed her head and began to sob openly, her violently trembling body showing how profoundly affected she was by the impact of her own emotional outburst. The handsome sun-bronzed writer sat staring at the ground a moment and then turned to Nancy, enfolding the limp weeping girl in his arms as he smoothed her shining hair and kissed her forehead. Without thinking, Nancy threw her arms around him, hugging him back and leaning heavily against his body until they both teetered, losing their balance on the rock. Down they crashed, then, laughing at their own surprise but still clinging desperately to each other as though it were their last day on earth.
"God, I could really love you," Frank whispered fervently in her ear, then sitting back, confused, when she giggled coyly. "Tell me, you sweet little bitch, just what's so damned funny! I really could fall deeply in love with you . . . despite all the circumstances surrounding our relationship."
"Oh, but darling, I don't know whether I could fall in love with you," Nancy returned gaily. "You see, there's another male to consider one who's built better if you know what I mean than even you. . . . And he's just as popular with other women."
"Who might that be?"
"I don't think I'll tell you," Nancy teased, smiling shrewdly as she toyed with several strands of her lovely long red hair. "I think I'll just keep you in the dark for awhile about my great specimen of masculinity."
Frank pretended not to be interested, looking away and yawning, finally puckering his lips to whistle with studied nonchalance. It was Nancy who broke first, anxious to keep the blonde man involved in her mystery game.
"Well, aren't you even interested? You should be, because you know him," she went on.
"Do I?" Frank asked casually, now realizing that he had the upper hand in the coy exchange.
"Oh, all right, you win. . . . The 'male' I was referring to is the black stallion. I had a dream about him this afternoon . . . and you were in it too. You helped him make love to me," Nancy said quickly, blushing a deep red as she blurted out the words. Then, heeding Frank's prompting, she related most of the contents of her erotic dream, causing her companion to perk up and listen with new interest. He felt his cock shiver and begin to harden as she continued to fill in the stimulating details of the spectacular imagined event. This had happened before, he reflected, when he had heard stories about beautiful women being fucked by animals with enormous pricks. And now, just envisioning this rosy-cheeked young miss at his side being skewered by the black stud, was turning him on almost as much as if he were picturing himself fucking her between her wonderful white legs.
"Frank, I want to ask you something," Nancy announced. "Not that I plan to do anything, but I'm curious if, in reality, it's really possible for an average woman to take on a horse. Have you ever heard of it happening?"
"Yes, I've heard of it . . . even though I never believed it. Then, two years ago, one of my best friends, a writer, told me that he had actually seen it happen. He was doing a story in South America and one night was invited to the home of a wealthy businessman. Evidently it was a stag party and the host had hired a pair of pretty local girls to put on a show involving a pony and a mule. It seems that each girl took on both of the animals, of course one at a time, and then went around the room sucking off the male guests until everybody was happy and smiling. I'm certain that my friend was telling the truth."
"How would you feel if I took on a horse?" Nancy queried almost too offhandedly to convince Frank that she was only objectively interested in the subject. Turning slightly to avoid his eyes, she caught sight of the huge bulge in his trousers. The material was standing up like a tent and his eyes were becoming glassy . . . just as she had seen them before when he was aroused by her body and in the grips of passion.
"That's a strange question," he answered huskily. "But I'll tell you the truth . . . I think I'd be damned excited by it, I mean if I were lucky enough to be present."
"Oh? That's strange," Nancy said, "because just the sight of you playing around with Lucy last night excited me too. Is that bad . . . abnormal?" She was sincerely interested in the basis of this peculiar psychological phenomenon and listened eagerly as he tried to answer.
"It's a difficult thing to explain, baby. The clinical term for this is voyeurism. It used to mean that a person got perverted sexual gratification from looking at sexual objects or situations involving naked people making love. But now it's different. . . . Behavioral scientists have researched the subject and found that it's not an abnormal thing at all. According to them, we all get excited to some extent when we watch others especially attractive people fucking or even just touching each other's naked bodies. They say it's simply because we're involving one of our most important sexual senses, our eyesight, and that what we see is communicated in sexual terms to our brains. . . . It's like having a greater sensual perspective."
"Thank God," Nancy sighed in relief, "because I was beginning to think I was sick or something . . . Lord, you can't imagine how crazy and hot it made me dreaming that stallion was making love to me. But is that the same thing?"
"Damn, you ask tough questions . . . I'm pretty hot myself right now, and I wouldn't mind playing your stud somewhere off in the bushes. However," Frank said as he inhaled deeply, "I'll try again to put your mind at rest. I've read into these subjects a great deal for two reasons. One, I used to be a little afraid that I was some kind of nut myself, because the same sort of things fire me up to the point that sometimes I'm incapable of thinking of anything else for days at a time. And two, in the past I've been assigned to write stories and articles on these very subjects. But to get to the point, it excites you to picture that stud fucking you to put it bluntly for the same reason that almost all women occasionally dream of taking on some animal. It's nothing new, either, for all through recorded history women have been having sexual phantasies involving not only horses but dogs, lizards, snakes, goats, cougars, you name it. It's called 'phantasy bestiality' and psychiatrists regard it as an expression of the sadomasochistic vein in all of us. . . . Now, knowing all this, are you still as hot and bothered by the thought of having that black devil's big cock between your legs?"
"Well, I guess . . . I am," Nancy admitted shyly. She was relieved to hear that her extraordinary dream and the fact that seeing others making love were not indications of some weird sort of sexual illness in her mind. And she was also feverishly flustered by Frank's obvious acceptance of the stallion's fucking her. It was possible; he had said so. She then found herself wondering if the two pretty girls his friend had seen being fucked by the pony and jackass were any different than she if their pussies were bigger and deeper. It was not that she ever intended to take on the stallion she was too intelligent to seriously consider doing it but the simple fact that it was really possible stirred her loins and warmed her belly so much that she began to squeeze together her cunt lips. It was a pity that everyone else was awake, she thought, because otherwise she and Frank could work off their heated desire in the normal way . . . instead of just sitting there talking about fucking.
"Frank, when can we 'fuck' again, alone?" she asked the writer, moving her hand to his knee and sliding it lightly along the inside of his muscular thigh. Even though she was as eager as he was just then, she fully realized that it would be entirely too risky to try anything while her father and the Dawsons were wide awake and celebrating their capture of the wild horse. The party would probably last most of the night, for that day's victory had rejuvenated her father more than anything had in a long time, and she knew that he would stay up drinking and feeling proud of himself long after everyone else had played out.
"Soon, I hope . . . very soon," Frank whispered as he caught her roving hand and pulled it to the obscene bulge in his trousers, closing her fingers with his over the rigid jerking cock. "I'll slide this rod up your sweet cunt and screw you silly."
"Oh, darling, yes, I'd like that. And the sooner the better," she hissed sluttishly through her clenched teeth. Giving his bone-hard prick another appreciative squeeze, she blew out her breath and rose, saying, "We'd better go back and join the party now, Frank, or Daddy might get suspicious and keep me home tomorrow."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right," he growled, reluctant to give up the warmth and thrill of her clutching hand.
* * *
It was almost two hours later and Nancy was still unable to sleep. Agitating thoughts kept her tossing and turning in her bedroll, sometimes finding her breasts and sometimes the desire-dampened slit below her pelvic bone. If only her father were not awake and in such a festive mood, she thought as she listened to the others laughing and singing, she would agree to anything to quell the lust raging inside her. Even the gray-haired Joel would be better than lying there with visions of long, stiff cocks and hairy balls filling her mind. She wanted them in her vagina, not her mind.
The pounding in her chest was almost audible and a naive reverence filled her for that precious organ, for her pulsating human heart, alone with her in the dark, alone with its question and riddle.
CHAPTER 9
Over two weeks had passed since they had brought the black outlaw stallion down from the Guadalupes to the Leeds Ranch. Mel had kept the creature heavily doped and the journey had been uneventful except for the times the party had had to pass through narrow canyons and high boulders. The stud had created a fuckus at being so confined, but eventually calmed down again when they had reached open country. Now, of course, Mel Leeds was regarded with new respect by the neighboring ranchers and townsfolk: he had found, captured and brought in the horse that most people had always thought was mere myth.
Despite her father's success and happiness, though, Nancy was profoundly disturbed and flustered.
Frank Summerwell was gone!
Early in the morning, the day after their return from the mountains, he had stopped by the ranch to sadly announce that he would be away for three possibly four months and would not be back until long after Nancy had left to attend the autumn session of school. He had received word from a publisher that his services were required and that he would receive a generous salary enough money to tide him over for a full year as a hermit. He and Nancy had talked alone, only briefly and without sufficient privacy to indulge their desires, and had parted after promises to write each other until they met again.
Her father was away from the ranch for the day and Nancy had nothing to occupy her mind but thoughts of Frank and how much she yearned to have him with her, fondling her, inside her. As was her habit when alone in her room, she had undressed and then put on a gauzy shift that was so transparent it hardly existed. It was a dangerous choice, she thought, for the sheer fabric rubbed tantalizingly across her nipples when she moved, bringing sensations to her sex organs that frustrated and angered her.
There was a knock on the door, startling her until she realized that it must be Maria with her lunch. She went without covering herself to open the door for the fat Mexican cook. A look of utter surprise crossed her face when she saw that it was not Maria at all but Sammy, one of her father's hired hands, a middle-aged skinny man with a reputation that left much to be desired.
He entered the bedroom, brushing past her without waiting for her invitation to do so. He stopped at the side of the bed and turned to smile at her, strangely and with insulting boldness, his deep-set eyes devouring her immodestly clad form from head to toe. The beautiful young redhead was too stupefied to move, her mind still trying to absorb what her feelings had already registered in every cell of her body.
"What what do you want?" Nancy stammered as she made a silly attempt to shield her breasts and pubic patch from the intense, penetrating eyes. "My father wouldn't be very understanding if he knew you had come into my room like this."
"I don't think your old man will ever find out," the lean cowboy snarled, the confidence in his voice shattering whatever hope she had had of threatening him. "You see, some of the boys and I got together and decided to test you out. Hank's downstairs right now telling Maria that she won't need to bring up your lunch . . . because he saw you ride out on that stud of yours just a few minutes ago. . . . Why, you'll probably be gone for hours," he laughed as his eyes blinked and stared.
"What do you mean? . . . " Nancy questioned, although a glimmer of understanding was already in her mind.
"Well, I'll tell you, kid," he said with mocking graciousness. "The other night, 'bout a week ago, I was in the Sandalwood Saloon with maybe ten, twelve of your old man's hired hands . . . all good buddies of mine. And Joel Dawson was there, so drunk he even bought us all a round. He got to talkin', see, and told us all about how much you like a good fuckin' in the ass."
"God, no," Nancy moaned despairingly.
"Yep, that's right," the cowboy assured her. "And he told us that you're such a horny little critter, you give blow-jobs to strangers behind the boss's back. Well, to make a long story short, the boys and I know that you'll do almost anything to keep your pa from knowin' what you've been doin'. . . . And what's more important, we figured you'd be about ready for a good fuckin' since you ain't had none for some time."
"Get out of here!" Nancy snapped. But her command had absolutely no effect on the insolent intruder. Rather than flinching, he strode slowly up to her and drew back his hand to deliver a sudden slap that made her head roll to one side. "Git outa them fucking slippers and that silly nightgown, you little bitch! I want you naked from top to bottom when I stick my prick in that hungry little cunt of yours. And hurry!"
She tried to speak but the words bunched in her cotton-dry throat and she could only whimper. Suddenly she whirled and made a desperate leap toward the door, but he caught her easily, holding her paralyzed body with one hand while with the free one he ripped savagely at the veneer of her shift. She stood there, helpless, as he began to paw at her naked white breasts and then at the soft curling triangle of her pubic hair. There was nothing she could do against his strength. She was alone and completely at his mercy.
"Okay, boys, she's ready," the attacker called toward the very door through which she had meant to escape. It burst open and she was nearly floored with shock as she watched four, five, six, seven men, her father's hired men, men she had spoken to and kidded with for years, troop in. All wore hungry, expectant expressions on their faces as they cast salacious glances of approval at her naked defenseless young body.
"A couple of you guys hold the hot little bitch down while I warm up that hot sweet cunt with some good cock," Sammy ordered the cluster of men surrounding the frightened girl. Several pairs of hands snaked out and seized her, pushing her back onto the springy bed and pulling her legs out in a spread-eagle position. Gasping, Nancy watched the apparent leader of the group strip off his jeans to reveal a thick, projecting staff of flesh. She was horrified to see that all the others were following Sammy's example and were soon standing around buck naked with their cocks jutting out from their loins like so many throbbing telephone poles. Even the men who were pinning her flat to the bed worked with their free hands to unbutton and shed their trousers.
"Okay, boys, take a good gander at that,"
Sammy said cruelly as he pointed to the pink slit of her tight, tender vagina. "That's your boss's daughter there. That's the pretty young body you randy buggers have been thinkin' about since she's been twelve . . . when she sprouted them tits and nice hips."
Nancy watched in trembling fear as they leaned closer to inspect her exposed curves and hollows, their rugged faces unrecognizable with the desire that twisted them. She froze to an unbreathing stillness as the ugly leader slowly dropped to his knees on the bed, his wild eyes feasting on the sight of her downy auburn pubic hair. A murmur of excitement rose from the others as he grabbed his hardened cock and guided it up to touch the sensitive outer lips of her wincing vagina. A convulsive spasm shook her thighs and stomach muscles as she felt the electrifying union of the thick, broad-headed prick probing tentatively just inside the moist, pink flesh of her vaginal lips, then ramming in all the way in her cunt to the hilt with one ruthless lunge of his male buttocks.
"Please, don't . . . not like this," she moaned uselessly, the huge, hot member already drawing back for another punishing stroke into her. It was futile. Her arms were held fast by the rough hands of men on both sides of her, as were her legs by two more men grasping and prying wide her ankles. She was pinioned like a butterfly and could do nothing but lie there and accept the tormenting cock fucking into her open and completely defenseless young cunt. But her terror was already dissipating, this time faster than ever, and the familiar lightning-like sensations of pleasure were claiming her reason. She could feel sensory devils dancing through her impaled body, driving off the humiliation and fear that she knew she should be feeling instead. The man's thin body smashed against her pubic mound again and again, his heavy hairy testicles colliding with each lusty stroke against the rubbery prickling ring of her anus. She strained against him, wanting him deeper, wanting him to completely fill this insanely quivering cunt she possessed.
"More, you bastard, I want more cock in me! Fuck it deeper," she shrieked at him in her violent frenzy. The men holding her slim ankles had released her, knowing that it was unnecessary to hold her down now, and Sammy lowered his hands to clutch feircely at the soft, now hungrily grinding cheeks of her ass as he rammed into her.
"Oh Jesus, it's not big enough!" she groaned. "It's too short! Hurry!" she begged, yearning for him to finish so she could take on bigger, thicker, longer cocks. The frantically pumping man could not believe his ears. She was actually pleading for more cock! Well, he grinned, he would give her something she had not bargained for. He moved one hand slightly forward, wetting two of his fingers before slipping them further back to her naked asshole. Then, with one quick thrust, he wormed the pair of cunt-wet fingers several inches into the tight tunnel. Nancy's reaction was entirely contrary to what he had expected. Instead of the scream he was certain she would let out, she moaned gratefully and began to piston up and down along the blood-filled length of his cock with a speed and force that he could only partially match. The youthful mistress was drowning in a whirlpool of raw, unbridled instinct, and she knew not nor cared why. She wanted cock, prick, as thick and long as possible.
The brutal pummeling of the man's own pelvic bone was stimulating her as much as the pile-driving lunges he was making with his cock, and she bucked beneath him wantonly as the hot liquids of her lust spewed out of her and onto the rumpled bed. She was stunned when she felt the premature gush of his hot cum shoot into her writhing belly. It was too soon. . . . She was so near, almost at her peak, and the astonishing explosion of Sammy's climax brought tears to her eyes.
"Get off me, you rotten bastard!" she yelled, spreading her legs wider and raising her naked young cunt into the air in search of something else to fill it. She gaped up at the circle of naked men standing around the bed, staring at her obscenely open cunt dripping with the traces of the little man's lewdly oozing sperm.
"Fuck me, fuck me! What are you all waiting for?" she pleaded hoarsely as she drew back her legs further and pulled apart the fleshy wet lips of her cunt to present them a perfect view of her open throbbing cuntal passage. Then, through the haze of her sex madness, she saw the youngest hand on the ranch, Billy. She was dazzled when she looked from his stupid heavy-jowled face down to the size of his cock. Groggily, she estimated that it must be over ten inches long, perhaps even eleven, and the two bulging balls hanging below it gave the frightful shaft the appearance of a big cannon with two shots ready to be loaded and fired.
"Hey, you guys, she's lookin' at me," he droned as a vacuous grin spread over his dull-featured face. "Kin I fuck Miss Leeds next huh, can I?"
"Might as well let him," the exhausted Sammy said. "She's too damned hot to be satisfied with a normal-sized cock, right now anyway."
"I ain't never fucked a real girl before . . . just heifers and sheep when there weren't nobody watchin', " the young clod confessed to the others.
"I'll help you, Billy. I'll help, I promise," Nancy said unevenly between gulpings for breath. The boy walked forward and took Sammy's former position between the girl's eager thighs. She stared at him kneeling there, his horse-like cock spanning out from flat solid stomach like a third arm with a huge pair of fists balled between his muscular legs. Then she averted her feasting eyes from the boy's genitals and allowed them to roam from face to face, her mind dimmed in a manner that she could not comprehend, finally locking her gaze once again on the immense, turgid cock hovering over her. Oh God, yes, she groaned inwardly, it was almost as big as a horse's and now she would know a little what it might have been like if the black stallion really had fucked her.
She reached down between her open thighs, then, taking hold of the prick with both hands and placing the bulbous head at the tiny bearded mouth of her hungrily throbbing cunt. The faces of the waiting men came closer, leering, ogling, to get an uninhibited view of the wonder about to take place before their glazed eyes. Her delicate, teenage pussy nestling in the soft curls of pubic hair between her legs was visibly pulsing and they longed to touch and pet it. Then, out of nowhere, Nancy felt a hand cup and pinch at her rounded full breast, digging into the pale white flesh, then, with its filthy fingernails. Another hand clamped her other tit, and there were several more hands playing lightly like rat's feet along her thighs and the sides of her curvaceous flanks. Her face contorted in ecstasy, every muscle in her body alive with the delightful tingling of her nerves. The flat plane of her luscious dilated pussy was presented up to the virginal brute in naked offering. It was his to violate at will.
Billy grinned down at it, saliva beginning to dribble from his slack mouth, his lips bared back over gleaming white teeth. He looked down at the lovely young nymph's face, then at her graceful tapering fingers wrapped around his thick member. He shuffled forward on his knees a few inches as she peered up between her drawn-back knees into his face.
"Ram it to her snooty little pussy, kid!" exclaimed someone at her side, and with a flick of his hips, the over-endowed nitwit did as he was told. He forced the fat, chunky head about two inches between the quivering lips, brutally expanding the tender yet stubborn flesh almost to the tearing point. Nancy threw back her head and gritted her teeth against the wave of pain she knew was coming, for nothing, not even Frank or Joel, this huge had ever penetrated her body.
"Ooooooh, oooooh," she moaned in spite of her readiness. Then the boy's prick submerged two more torturing inches, the pain bolting through her body like hundreds of needles. And yet she held on, certain that the agony would end in time, as soon as her hot, wanting pussy grew accustomed to the monster invading her. Billy murmured a panting appreciation of this never-before-known pleasure and leaned forward, implanting two inches more, and two more, until with a bull-like charge, he sank the enormous cock all the way up in her screaming little belly. She bit at the inside of her lower lip to keep from crying out as the innocent youth began to fuck into her with awkward, killing heaves of his buttocks. She realized that it was not his fault, that the others had set him up for this and now he was merely obeying his own instincts.
She finally felt her own instincts take over again as the dull-minded lad began a steady revolving motion with his pelvis, guiding his huge cock into her upraised cunt until the pain was all but diminished and replaced by a lewd demanding appetite for more of the crazed fucking she was receiving. The other, impatient cowboys were aware of the change in her and closed in more to enjoy every twitch and bounce of the locked bodies. Their faces hung within inches of Nancy's straining nakedness, leering as if hypnotized at the hard fucking the innocent moron was giving their boss's beautiful, conceited young daughter. Nancy felt their hands grabbing at her everywhere, massaging and tweaking her tits, crawling and clawing at every area of her body that was available and not covered by Billy.
She lifted her head a trifle to look at them, a feeling of genuine pride coming over her as she sensed their wild desire and strange respect for her. Anyone, particularly a mere girl of fourteen, whose cunt could swallow up Billy's fantastic cock, and actually like it, was worthy of any man's respect. Over and over, they rubbed and lewdly caressed her pinioned body; on each side, their eager paws covered her, enhancing her pleasure all the more. She felt a fingertip probing at her rectum beneath the mammoth balls slapping into her upturned buttocks with every stroke Billy made into her. She winced slightly as it paused and probed, suddenly popping inside the snug nether ring and worming deeply around at the spongy, tender flesh inside. It rolled around, enlarging the tiny opening as much as it had been when Sammy's two fingers were in there, until at last the very palm of the invading hand lay flat against her rounded ass-cheeks.
Her passion had reached hurricane proportions and she never even flinched when she felt an unidentified cock nudging against her lips in an effort to gain entrance into the soft warm interior of her mouth. She relaxed her jaw muscles and opened the pink cavern to admit the unfamiliar penis inside. Craning her neck to that side, she immediately engulfed the solid throbbing cock and began to suck crazily, swallowing the small emissions of semen as though the substance were the last morsel of food on earth.
Billy's orgasm came without warning, the sticky white sperm jetting into the inhumanly stretched confines of her cunt in a continual flow, filling her with his hot scalding jizm until the flesh-filled orifice could hold no more. She felt him raise his weight tremblingly from her loins only to be replaced by another weight, the body of a man she could not even see from her cock-sucking position. The new cock began at once to fuck in and out of her open cunt while the finger imbedded in her rectum played against the thin membrane separating it from her vaginal channel. She could sense it pressing upward, feeling the strange cock bumping against it. This outrageous debasement sent fresh masochistic chills of delight coursing through her and she fucked back against the prick and the finger in her without shame. Hands from everywhere assisted her fevered humping hips, pulling her up and down in a depraved rhythm that kept harmony with the instruments fucking into her in three different places. She was a sexual object now, a machine functioning expertly in the service of pleasure.
One after another, the roomful of hired hands took turns on her, keeping her hot wet cunt and soft sucking mouth filled with male flesh. Great pools of thick cum formed under her buttocks and below her cock-stretched mouth, not even drying before new deposits were added on top of them. Nancy's mouth ached and yet she sucked and licked and swallowed without once slowing her tempo. Her hollowing and bloating cheeks were smeared with glistening saliva and semen and portions of the sperm she had not been able to swallow fast enough.
It was this scene, this incredible sight, that of eight naked men fucking and using his young daughter's enflamed body in any way they chose, that confronted Mel Leeds as he stood unnoticed at the open door to Nancy's bedroom. Never, not in a million years, had he supposed that such a spectacle would be taking place in his own house . . . with his own little Nancy in the starring role. At first he was enraged--prepared to kill every last one of the plundering cowboys with his bare hands, but soon that anger converted into the vehement desire he, himself, had had for the girl since her young form had matured and flowered into near-womanhood. He was suddenly obsessed with only one thing: his eagerness to enjoy the delicious fruits of adolescence that his cowhands were so rapidly partaking of.
The broad-shouldered rancher's cock jumped to attention in his trousers and he hastily began to strip off his clothes, his shorts still dragging from one ankle as he moved toward the bed to have his turn atop his exquisite daughter's young belly.
Nancy was completely unaware of her father's presence and had no way of discerning the difference between his thrusting organ and that of the next man sliding deeply into the ravaged flesh of her vagina.
She lost track of how many times she had climaxed during the orgiastic session. She knew only that she had achieved the sublime heights of fulfillment she had been thinking of, day and night, for the past two weeks . . . since her dream of the black stallion and the enlightening conversation she had had with Frank afterwards. And now she was thoroughly drained, cum-splattered, her tired limbs aching to be relieved of the last men gamely fucking her at both ends. Nothing in the entire universe could dredge up one more ounce of enthusiasm from her sated being.
CHAPTER 10
Nancy and Mel Leeds stood side by side, each with a foot cocked on the bottom rail of the training corral. It was almost a week after she had been gang-raped in her bedroom, and she had been enjoying a new hold on her father ever since that afternoon. After clearing the room of the others, Mel had fallen to his knees in front of Nancy to beg forgiveness for what he had done. There had even been tears in his eyes; it was the first time she had seen him weep since her mother's death. A feeling of pity had come over her and she had cradled his lion-like head in her arms, soothing him and swearing that she had not been hurt, that she had truly liked the gang-fucking. . . . Later, there had been honest talk between them concerning their future sex relationship, and they had mutually agreed to continue to enjoy what they had at their disposal. From that day on, Mel came to her room every evening after the household was quiet for the night.
Now, they were watching Sammy and several of the cowhands attempting to put the unruly black stallion through his paces at the end of a trot rope. But the outlaw was not cooperating; instead of pacing around the men in a circle, the stubborn creature reared high on his hind-legs and seemed on the verge of charging the tormenting humans. Sammy was in a towering anger. The blood had flared up in his cheeks and turned their white to violet, and his crooked lip was wrenched so high that the canines of his upper jaw were visible as he approached his boss and Nancy. He advanced with his head forward like a steer, with burning, bloodshot, watery eyes.
"Mr. Leeds, we can't do nothin' with that loco horse," Sammy snarled when he reached them. "If I had my way, I'd shoot the fiend right between the eyes and call it good riddance!"
"Well, you don't have your way, Sammy, and as long as you work for me, you'll not harm a hair on that stallion," Mel boomed as he felt his own anger rising. "Get the stud into the holding pen and shoot him full of that tranquilizer. . . . Then maybe you expert horsemen can handle the poor drugged bastard."
"Whatever you say, Mr. Leeds," Sammy growled as he wheeled angrily and walked back to the group of men he was working with in the corral. Mel took his daughter's arm, then, the pair walked leisurely toward the ranch house.
"Honey, I was just thinkin', " Mel said thoughtfully, "what do you plan to do if those buggers make another try to get at you again? . . . Are you goin' to fight them off or let them have their way. I know I ain't got much room to talk, but it don't seem right that a pretty young girl like you should be makin' a bunch of no account cowhands happy any time they decide to mess around with you."
"Daddy, to be honest with you, I don't know what I'll do," Nancy lied, smiling gaily to put her father's mind at rest. Even though her bruised and battered body had been sore for days afterwards, the interlude with the eight men nine, counting her father had been the most exciting time she had ever experienced. She knew the men must be talking behind her back, calling her a little slut, but she really felt a minimum of shame about it. More important, she took comfort in the fact that, until her return to school, she need never again suffer the frustration she had during those two barren weeks after Frank's departure. She had a whole battery of pleasure-giving cocks any time she wanted them. Even the possibility that she indeed might be a nympho-maniac hardly bothered her. If she was one, she was thankful.
"Anyway, don't worry," she added, "because
I'm capable of taking care of myself now. I've matured quite a bit since I've been home this time."
"By God, you've done that, all right," Mel laughed softly, putting his arm around her as they entered the house.
Nancy could not stop her hands from trembling as she sat alone in her room, holding the still-sealed envelope containing Frank Summerwell's letter. Evidently it had arrived that morning and had been placed on her dresser by Maria. Finally she could not restrain herself another second and tore open the envelope, her eyes eagerly searching at the bottom of the page for the blonde writer's signature and then rising to begin reading the contents.
Dear Nancy, I'm sorry I've not had an opportunity to write before this, but I know you understand how busy I am. I'm one member of a small writing staff and am working with the others to meet a rapidly approaching deadline.
In any case, I miss you and very often think of the marvelous times we had together at my cabin and up in the mountains. I hope that you've been able to forgive me for what might be considered as my having taken advantage of your innocence. I was lonely, though, and lonely, passionate men sometimes do selfish things.
As for me here, when I'm not working which isn't very often I've been dating a lovely girl, a member of the staff, and we've shared moments together that reminded me of you.
I hope we meet again in the not too distant future. Meanwhile, please write and tell me what you've been up to at the ranch.
Love, Frank
Nancy sat quietly for a moment, allowing the impersonal-seeming words to sink in, and then bent over to place her face in her hands as the flood of tears rose to her eyes. He had no right, she thought, no right at all to write her such a cold, offhand letter, one in which he had the unmitigated audacity to mention that his latest bed-partner reminded him of her . . . as though their bodies and minds were replicas of one another. Well, dammit, she would sit down and let him know just how different she was!
She was finished less than an hour later and leaned back in her chair to stretch, taking up her answer to Frank to reread before sealing it up in an envelope.
Dear Frank, I've just read your letter and am replying right away . . . while I have time. I'm having seven or eight friends in for a little party this afternoon and must get ready.
I appreciate your concern for me, but I really insist that you don't worry yourself. You see, I'm truly grateful for the time we spent together this summer. You relieved me of my virginity, true, but I'm finding out now that it had been a greater burden than I ever realized. I may not be the 'real woman' you said that a few 'fucks' would make me, but I'm doing my level best with the resources at hand to rise to everyone's expectations of me. So far, I'm more pleased with my popularity than with whatever progress I'm making toward genuine womanhood.
I'm happy for you that you've found a satisfactory playmate who reminds you of me. And I hope you're lucky enough to remember her right name. I can imagine the distress she would feel if, in the midst of passion, you grunted out 'Oh Nancy' instead of her real name.
Daddy has been working with the wild stallion, having his men try to make the 'black bastard' behave. It seems dubious, though, that the horse will ever do anything but climb mares and yearn to run free again.
I'll be returning to school in two weeks, so it's not likely that we'll see each other for quite some time. Until then, keep thinking of me as you have been, for I'll be doing exactly what you'll be doing when your lady co-worker helps you relax.
Cheers, Nancy
After addressing and sealing the envelope, Nancy cupped her own breasts and then dropped her hands to run them over her luxurious thighs. It occurred to her that perhaps she would have some "friends" in that afternoon if not all of them, at least three or four, just to help pass the time until her father's visit later that night.
Humming to herself, she crossed the room and stood gazing out the window toward the Guadalupe Range. The sky was a greenish-blue color and there were enormous tumbling white clouds drifting south over the peaks. She felt as free and high as they were . . . and yet a great sadness filled her as well. She was thinking of the leaderless band of wild mares still roaming somewhere up in the dark canyons, their eyes and ears on the alert for some sign of the magnificent black stallion.
"I wonder if they'll choose another," Nancy said aloud as she turned away. "And, if they do, what he'll be like. . . ?
