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Behind The Barn
By Anonymous Author
First published by The Editor

***

Fun and games on the farm. (MMFF, FF-bi, cheating, 
affair, swing, orgy)

***

Chapter 1
=========

"Just what did you mean by that?" Mike Peters turned 
slowly around and faced his wife. He had already opened 
the door, intending to stalk out, but now he slammed it 
shut again, and Sandra recoiled from the look of cold 
anger he was leveling at her. But she continued to 
stare back at him, fury flashing in her green eyes. 
Tossing her sleek, raven-crowned head, she fought the 
beginnings of fear which were trying to root deep 
inside her.

"Just what I said!" she retorted bitterly. "You've got 
some plan in mind for that little vixen... I saw the 
way you were looking at her!"

"For Christ's sake, Sandy, try and be reasonable!" Mike 
snapped, resisting the temptation to go over and shake 
his wife until her teeth chattered. He felt extremely 
uncomfortable and just a little bit guilty. A guy can't 
help looking, he told himself, when a broad as well-
built as Eve Slater comes into view, and as the girl 
was going to be working for him, he had to be friendly 
to her, hadn't he?

"Are you sure she's from the Agricultural College, and 
not just some little number you've..."

"I'm sick and tired of listening to your accusations," 
Mike interrupted, "and I haven't got all day to stand 
here and argue with you. Miss Slater," he went on 
quietly, "is a student from the College, and perfectly 
qualified for the project. She is majoring in Dairying, 
and will be with us for three months. Anything else?"

"You can't tell me she knows anything about farming," 
Sandra persisted, feeling her anger and jealousy 
combine and stick in her craw, choking the hot bitter 
words out of her. As she continued to rail at her 
husband, a suffocating feeling of futility and 
frustration swept over her. I didn't mean to nag him 
like this, she told herself hopelessly. I can't help 
it... but she's so young and attractive, and the way he 
was looking at her...

"I have to go now," Mike said tonelessly, "it's almost 
milking time."

"That's right," Sandra hurled, "go back to your damn 
cows... and your girlfriend!" Great gulping sobs 
convulsed her, and tears ran down her face as she 
stared at the departing figure of her husband. God, why 
does she have to cry like that? Mike shrugged as he 
slammed the door behind him. As always, he was moved by 
the sight and sound of her tears, and felt the guilt 
inside him strengthening with insidious speed. 

He would have liked to take her in his arms, caress and 
soothe her, stroke away her fears, in spite of her 
nagging and accusations, but somehow, he couldn't. He 
knew he was afraid that she'd reject his offering of 
peace, and felt that he couldn't stand the humiliation. 
If she wants to be like that, why should I be the one 
to give in? he reasoned angrily, as he hurried over to 
the barn.

***

Sandra crumpled like a rag doll onto the leather couch. 
Her sobs resounded in the small room, and the fading 
daylight cloaked everything in the office with ominous 
ambiguity. She felt small and alone and unprotected and 
totally incapable of drawing the strings of her life 
together. The woman who had screamed at and harangued 
her husband over a trivial incident was not the real 
Sandra Peters. The real Sandra was a loving, warm woman 
who stood by and encouraged her husband in all 
ventures. But who was that whining domineering shrew? I 
can't help it! she told herself again, burying her 
tear-stained face in her hands.

The vitriolic, stinging memory of her discovery of her 
husband's infidelity of over a year ago came rushing 
back with painful clarity - the humiliation, the 
feeling of complete insecurity, the anguish of it all 
was as fresh as if it had just happened. Even though 
they had made up, and she had sworn to forgive and 
forget, and Mike had tried, and was in fact a model 
husband since then, she couldn't purge herself of the 
bitter memory. She knew that she had taken every 
opportunity to get back at him, remind him of his 
indiscretion, to throw it up in his face on occasions 
when it was most wounding to him. 

She knew that the misery, the unhappiness of their co-
existence, because it couldn't be called a marriage in 
the usual sense of the word, was mostly her doing, and 
yet, nothing would erase the jarring, searing memory of 
that dreadful time last year. She hadn't waited to 
verify her discovery, find out how long his involvement 
had been going on, or how serious it was. She had 
confronted him immediately, threatened divorce, court 
action, instant ignominy, and had relented only after 
weeks of ceaseless apologies, declarations of future 
fidelity and sworn avowals of love by her distraught 
husband. 

In a way, she had to admit to herself, she had enjoyed 
his obvious distress at her threat to leave, and had 
basked in his repeated statements that "he couldn't 
live without her." But the satisfaction she gained from 
the knowledge that he couldn't do without her was 
short-lived, and her ego had suffered too bruising a 
blow for her to maintain for long her role of sweet, 
forgiving but slightly-martyred wife. So her veiled 
recrimination had begun, and had gradually become more 
open and venomous, culminating in her accusations of 
today.

But she couldn't fool herself into thinking which she 
knew in her heart were unjustified, that her misery and 
discontent sprang completely from her husband's 
behavior. Even in her present misery, she was forced to 
admit that her unhappiness was accentuated by 
underlying discontent with her whole life. She had 
never dreamed when she had got engaged to the up and 
coming junior executive in the largest New England 
textile firm, that they would end up in the heart of 
New Hampshire farmland. 

She and Mike had such a good time in Boston, their 
first apartment, actually a tiny terraced house, their 
fast little sports car, their young, happy-go-lucky 
friends. She had enjoyed so much being a working girl 
and wife, and her job as assistant buyer of Sportswear 
for a large department store was flexible enough so 
that she could take that bit of extra effort which made 
her dinner parties such a success. 

All her clothes were of the very latest fashion, and 
even though she got a discount on them, Mike's salary 
and hers combined had been generous enough to allow her 
to afford the extras, like that pale pink silk full 
length dress and matching coat which she had got for 
the opening of the Opera season. Everything was going 
their way, and Sandra actually enjoyed the weekends 
they spent in the White Mountains, away from everybody, 
in that fishing cabin Mike rented.

At that time, she thought rural life was romantic - 
sitting before a roaring fire in the big stone 
fireplace, lighting the kerosene lamps at night, 
cooking the fish Mike had caught. After their hectic 
weekday round of activities, it was great being alone 
together, and when they got back to Boston, all their 
friends used to exclaim enviously over their rustic 
experiences.

It was just after their second wedding anniversary when 
the blow fell. Mike's company was moving South, and 
Mike decided to resign. Sandra was glad about that, 
shuddering at the thought of moving to a small town in 
South Carolina, and had naturally assumed that Mike 
would take up another position with a similar company. 
But her husband had other ideas. 

His uncle had willed his rundown old farm in New 
Hampshire to Mike, and he had always had a strong urge 
to try his hand at farming. He had looked upon his 
company's removal from Boston as an act of Fate, and 
had felt that he had enough saved to enable them to 
give farming a try. Dividends would keep them going for 
a while and the capital would be sunk into the 
renovation and working of the farm.

Even now, six years later, Sandra still shuddered at 
the memory of that appalling first year on the farm. 
The cold draughty house, the constant presence of the 
builders, with their clouds of cement dust, ceaseless 
hammering and banging, cooking and washing and existing 
in the most primitive conditions - Sandra thought that 
she would never survive. All her clothes got torn and 
muddy and she had ceased to care about her appearance 
that first year. But the greatest change had been in 
Mike. 

He was obsessed with the farm - every spare minute was 
spent on it; it occupied his mind completely; nothing 
seemed to matter to him but the farm. Sandra had 
nurtured the secret hope that the whole project would 
collapse and they could go back to the relative 
civilization of Boston. But nothing seemed to deter 
Mike - not even the loss of their small herd at the end 
of the first year through foot and mouth disease. He 
had become strangely stoical, and shrugged off his 
loss, and grimly went about restocking his farm with 
more of the huge, ponderous black and white animals of 
which Sandra was deathly afraid. 

Mike used to tease her at first, saying that the 
languid Friesians wouldn't touch a fly, but he had 
gradually become more and more impatient with her when 
she refused to share his enthusiasm over them. As time 
went on, she lost her fear of them, and even developed 
sympathy for them, and she was unable to bear the 
mournful lowing that rent the air when the tiny furry 
calves were taken from their mothers so soon after 
birth.

Resentment had built up in her over the years as Mike 
became more and more immersed in farm life, and his 
often stated feeling that he was glad he had made the 
step from the City irked her considerably. Gradually, 
their friends from Boston stopped coming to see them, 
rapidly losing their idealized notions of rural life 
when they saw the day to day reality, and now Sandra 
had lost touch with them completely. Her life was 
empty, pointless, she felt, and her husband's 
involvement with the agricultural instructor last year 
was the last straw for his demoralized wife. Life was 
no longer worth living, she thought - nothing would 
ever change; things would go on just as they were, with 
herself and Mike completely estranged.

She felt like crying again, but no tears would come. In 
fact, she felt devoid of all emotion, and the emptiness 
inside her at least eased the pain. Her mind was a 
blank as she got up from the couch, and wearily 
stretched herself. She felt old and tired - and beaten. 

I'm not old - why should I give up living? she asked 
herself, catching a glimpse of herself in the full 
length mirror that hung behind the door of the office, 
which was once a small bedroom. She knew her figure was 
still good, and she ran her eye critically over her 
reflection, noting the firm, braless upsweep of her 
full breasts through the raspberry colored angora dress 
she was wearing, the womanly curve of her graceful 
slender hips, the long expanse of her creamy legs. 

I'm not over the hill yet, she told herself, running a 
hand through her silky black hair which fell to just 
below her jaw line where it swung into a synch on 
either side of her oval face. Luxuriant dark lashes 
framed her vivid green eyes which even in her weariness 
sparkled back at her. What's the use? she mumbled to 
herself, turning away from her reflection. Who's going 
to see me here, vegetating in the wilderness? 

She conquered the fresh wave of bitterness rising 
inside her and with a sigh, sat down on Mike's swivel 
chair, in front of his untidy, littered desk. It was 
already the first week of the month, and she hadn't 
done the accounts for the previous one. Idly, she swept 
together the crumpled, disorganized sheaf of papers 
which was a jumbled mass of invoices, receipts and 
cancelled checks. Glad of something to take her mind 
off her troubles, she plunged into the task of sorting 
everything out and was soon immersed in her work. 

When she had made everything into three separate piles, 
she pulled open a drawer in the desk, and began to 
rummage about, looking for the ledger to make entries 
for the month. Why the hell doesn't he keep his desk 
tidier! she muttered to herself as she eased a long, 
hardbound book out of the drawer. As she removed it, 
her eye fell on a bulging manila envelope which had 
been wedged between another book and the one she had 
withdrawn.

"Now what's this doing here?" she muttered to herself, 
irked at the disorder in the files she had arranged 
only recently. Frowning slightly to herself, she 
fumbled with the envelope and discovered that it was 
full of photographs.

Puzzled, she eased one out of the envelope.

"Oh my God!" she gasped aloud, unable to contain 
herself. The blood rushed to her face, crimsoning it a 
deep red. Tumultuous feelings of horror, disgust, anger 
manifested themselves in a single sensation of 
overwhelming nausea. A numbed haze blinded her for an 
instant, and then she began to stare with bulging, 
disbelieving eyes at the colored print she was holding 
in her hand. Every detail was startlingly portrayed and 
the two figures in the photograph seemed amazingly 
alive. 

For a moment, Sandra couldn't believe that she was 
seeing right, but there was no doubt about it - it was 
actually a photograph of a nude man and woman, sprawled 
out together, the woman's blonde head dipped between 
the man's widespread thighs, his grossly inflated penis 
clamped tightly between her ovalled red lips. The man's 
head was turned away, but there was no mistaking the 
expression on the rapt woman's face. She was enjoying 
taking that man's hardness in her mouth - her lustful 
desire was etched clearly on her eager face.

Sandra felt her heart thudding painfully in her 
ribcage. She had heard, of course, that people did that 
sort of thing, but had always somehow felt that such an 
act did not belong in a normal marriage. The lascivious 
scene seemed to come to pulsating life under her 
hypnotized stare, and the huge blood-filled penis 
seemed to throb with lewd intensity as it lay cradled 
between the full, ripe lips that were clasping it so 
tenaciously. 

The woman's half-closed eyes seemed glazed with 
passion, and Sandra felt a shudder of unknown sensation 
ripple through her. She couldn't seem to draw her eyes 
away from the obscene photograph. Her fingers seemed to 
be soldered to the glossy print, and somehow she felt 
that if she looked away from the perverted sight, she 
would tear herself away from a tenuous reality which 
her moribund emotions so badly needed, and go berserk 
with disgust and horror. How could he keep such filthy, 
lewd pictures? her mind began to question. Does he look 
at them often? Where did he get them?

Her curiosity broke the spell the obscene photograph 
had on her conscientiousness, and hurriedly, she drew 
out another of the colored prints. Her eyes flew 
immediately to the scene, and a sudden, strangled moan 
of horror broke from her lips.

"Oh no! It can't be!" she groaned as she stared fixedly 
at the second photograph. This time, the shot was taken 
from a distance, but near enough to display in detail 
the pink moist delineations of a widespread vagina, the 
glistening lips gently swollen around a dark star-
shaped opening. A man's face was juxtaposed over the 
splayed mouth, the tip of his long tongue poised at the 
entrance to the delicate roseate furrow. And there was 
no mistaking that face, so wreathed in anticipatory 
lust. It was Mike! For a moment, Sandra couldn't 
believe that it was actually her husband who was 
portrayed in that disgusting snapshot, the wavy fair 
hair, his deep blue eyes, his fleshy sensuous lips. 

Numbed shock rushed in a roaring torrent to her head, 
threatening to explode, and she had to hold onto the 
arm of the swivel chair to steady herself. Mike! How 
could he do this to another woman? How could he let 
himself be photographed like that? She wanted to 
scream, to beat her fists against the wall, to turn 
back the clock and forget that she had ever seen the 
lewd pictures. Through the dim of her hurt and disgust, 
another thought nagged at her brain. 

This lascivious blonde in the photograph, who had 
splayed her legs so unreservedly for her husband, was 
not the same woman that Mike was having an affair with 
last year. So there had been others! New thundering 
anger swelled inside the distraught wife at the thought 
that she had been deceived, and furiously, she snatched 
the remaining photographs up and scanned them. Each 
one, seemingly more lewd than the previous one, leaped 
up at her horrified eyes as if to taunt her with the 
spectacle of her husband engaged in all different 
positions, with different women, and sometimes with 
more than one!

"That bastard! That dirty bastard!" Sandra gasped, and 
in a fury of temper, began to splash out at the 
contents of the desk, scattering papers, letter trays, 
pens; everything went flying in all directions and fell 
to create untold chaos on the floor. Her anger 
unleashed beyond control, she yanked at the file 
drawers, pulling them completely away from their 
moorings, and dumped the files she had so carefully put 
in order, in a disheveled heap on the floor.

As suddenly as it came, her demonic flash of temper 
deserted her, and she sank back in hopeless 
bewilderment on the swivel chair. All around her, the 
records of the past eight years lay in disarray on the 
floor, and a dreadful sense of futility convulsed her.

"Oh God," she sobbed, "what did I do to deserve this?" 
She buried her face in her hands and her shoulders 
shook with the racking sobs which enveloped her. How 
many more were there? she asked herself piteously, 
torturing herself with images of various women that 
both she and Mike had known. Had he had an affair with 
all their friends? she wondered bitterly. 

In her jealous humiliated anger, new images began to 
inject themselves into her consciousness - glimpses she 
had caught of various naked bodies with full voluptuous 
breasts and creamy sinewy thighs, stretched out in 
opulent sensuality, seemingly oblivious to the unknown 
photographers who were busy snapping away as her 
husband caressed and stroked and kissed those velvety 
bodies. 

Her mind seemed unable to banish the lewd images, and 
fresh ones began to superimpose themselves in her 
fervid imagination. Mike kissing and slavering an open, 
exposed vagina, lewdly displayed and eagerly offered to 
him... Mike sinking his wildly excited penis into a 
greedy, grasping vaginal orifice, strong supple thighs 
egging him on... Mike lying back as luscious red lips 
encircled his bloated penis... The obscene snatches 
from the vile cache of photographs she had unwittingly 
uncovered played relentlessly in her mind, mocking her 
with their leering evidence of her husband's 
infidelities.

She felt broken in mind and spirit. The actuality which 
those photographs seemed to point to was too shocking 
for her to bear. Under the thin veneer of city 
sophistication she had acquired, Sandra was still 
basically a conventional American wife, strict enough 
in her own way to the code of morality to which her 
family and all before her had subscribed. 

She had looked upon marriage as sacred, even in this 
day and age of quickie divorce and pre-marital and 
extra-marital sex, and had automatically assumed that 
any philandering on the part of her husband would stop 
after marriage. And she was sure it had! That was the 
hard part. She had been so snug and secure, even in the 
dark days of their early times on the farm, feeling 
cocooned in the sanctity of the wedded state, and that 
accounted for the tremendous shock she experienced when 
she had discovered her husband's affair last year. And 
now! She had uncovered devastating evidence that 
pointed to a whole series of adulterous infidelities! 
Involuntarily, she reached for the pile of photographs 
which had fallen to the ground amid the shambles of the 
office.

Almost disinterestedly, she scanned them over again. 
Yes, there was no doubt about it! There were three or 
four different girls involved in the debacle, and the 
pictures showed Mike involved with each and every one.

She studied a particularly lurid one, showing him and a 
tall lithe brunette stretched out, touching at only two 
places. His mouth was firmly planted in the nest of her 
dark pubic curls, and her mouth was tightly clasped 
around the red thick length of his penis. The girl's 
eyes were half-closed and her thick luxuriant hair fell 
in tendrils around her face, giving her an almost 
angelic look as she exalted in the feel and taste of 
Sandra's husband's penis in her mouth. 

Sandra continued to stare at the lewd shot. What did it 
feel like, having a man's male hardness locked tightly 
in your mouth? she wondered, amazed at the look of 
almost reverent ecstasy on the girl's face. Mike had 
tried once or twice, she remembered, pushing her head 
down under the blanket, and she had, of course, refused 
to do anything like that. She had always thought it 
perverted, somehow, and yet, this girl seemed to be 
thoroughly aroused by it. And that blonde in the first 
picture, she mused in horrified fascination, flicking 
back to it, seems in ecstasy, too. 

Her attention was caught by one she hadn't scrutinized 
before. It showed a well-built redhead, her breasts 
full and vibrant, spreadeagled beneath Mike, whose 
engorged prick was sunk halfway into the soft, hair-
fringed tunnel of her vagina. The girl's legs were 
wrapped around her husband's lower back and her spine 
was arched up off the bed as she strove to open her 
depths wider and deeper to him. Sandra stared in lewd 
fascination at the minutely detailed photographs of 
sexual intercourse. 

Even her animosity to her husband seemed to retreat as 
she studied abstractly the obviously impassioned 
couple. The redhead's head was thrown back, and her 
mouth was open. Her hands were dug into his shoulders, 
and her whole body seemed afire. Mike's hands were 
clutching at her firm, upswept breasts, and Sandra 
could see the reddened tips of her fully turgid nipples 
slipping out through his fingers. There was a look of 
pure animal desire on her husband's face, a look she 
hadn't seen in a long, long time! 

Despite herself, Sandra felt a little tug of jealousy. 
She remembered how she used to arouse that complete 
passionate frenzy in her husband, how he used to be 
almost aflame with desire for her, and her alone, she 
was sure, and now, this redheaded hussy was the one who 
was making him act like that...

Sudden tears surprised her as they swam in her eyes. It 
isn't fair... she murmured to herself. It was so long 
since she had seen Mike crazed with desire, so long 
since he had even made love to her... She felt a sudden 
emptiness inside her, a feeling which she recognized as 
vague desire. It began to gnaw at her, worming its way 
insidiously into her depths, gaining a foothold in her 
numb body. 

He never tries to kiss me there anymore... the thought 
leapt into her head. It was years since he had tried to 
persuade her to allow him to put his head down between 
her thighs and kiss her pussy, but she had so 
vehemently and absolutely refused him when he had made 
the attempt. It can't be so bad, she muttered to 
herself, her eyes glued to another shot, this time of 
Mike with his face buried in the copper fleece of the 
redhead's openly throbbing cunt. Sandra could see the 
moist flanges of the girl's vagina rimming Mike's wetly 
glistening nose and mouth, and her thighs were clamped 
and straining eagerly around his steaming face. The 
girl's eyes were closed and it was obvious that she was 
in the throes of complete abandon. 

Then, in spite of the shock and revulsion of seeing her 
husband locked in lewd, naked embrace with another 
woman, Sandra felt a tingle beginning between her own 
legs, a ripple that seemed to grow as her eyes 
continued to focus on the spectacle of her husband's 
groveling between another woman's widespread thighs. 
How did it feel, to have a man's tongue licking and 
sucking and blowing his hot, passionate breath into 
that secret place, have his mouth warm and caressing 
around your clitoris, feel his kiss on your nakedly 
exposed pubic mound?

Her feverish mind threw the questions at herself, and 
suddenly, she felt hot all over, covered with a cloying 
clamminess that made her feel like tearing her dress 
from her body. She was dimly aware that she was 
unconsciously clenching her heated thighs together and 
imperceptibly grinding her buttocks into the leather of 
the swivel chair. 

The tingling in her loins grew and the gnawing inside 
her burst into a devouring flame and she wondered 
vaguely what was happening. Her eyes flickered 
aimlessly to another picture, and a startled gasp 
eluded her as she stared in disbelief at what she saw. 
Sandra thought that the photographs she had already 
examined had prepared her to a point where she was 
beyond surprise, but she was wrong. She gaped in 
astonishment at the candid snapshot, unable and 
unwilling to believe that it was her husband who was 
actually inserting his huge, lust-hardened penis in the 
blonde's tiny puckered anus!

But there was no doubt about it - the photograph showed 
in unerring detail the enormous girth of Mike's blood-
inflated prick encircled by the brown crinkled little 
rectal mouth, stretched cruelly around the massive 
circumference. This lasciviously depicted anal entry 
was too much for Sandra. Revulsion swept through her - 
disgust at the knowledge that the man she had married 
could and did indulge in such an animalistic, carnal 
act, a thing she, a grown woman, had only heard about 
in whispers. 

It was too shameful to even think about; it was 
disgusting! And yet, Sandra noticed in amazement, the 
blonde didn't seem to mind it. In fact, she seemed to 
like it, judging by the lewd look of delight on her 
passion-contorted face. Oh God, what was going on? Her 
world seemed to have gone topsy-turvy, and all the 
opinions she had held on such matters seemed to have 
been refuted by the pictorial evidence she held in her 
hand. These girls weren't being abused, subjected to a 
man's whim or desire - they were actually enjoying it! 
They seemed to love all the obscene things Mike was 
doing to them... they were reveling in what to her 
would be the lowest kind of debasement.

Bewilderment crowded in on Sandra, and she felt 
completely out of control of the situation. Her hands 
rose slowly to her breasts, and she gasped as she felt 
the electrifying effect her own touch had on the now 
sensuously throbbing mounds. But she couldn't take her 
hands away - somehow she felt that she had only herself 
to turn to help her get over this terrible discovery. 

She felt strangely lucid, as if her perusal of the lewd 
pornographic pictures had touched off a streak of 
insanity in her, and she could no longer control her 
stampeding libido. Her mind was fermenting with images 
of the various positions she had seen in the 
photographs, and lurid thrills were beginning to shoot 
up and down her body. 

Involuntarily, she pressed her palms down her sides, 
along her hips, and then dipped them between her nylon-
encased thighs. Immediately, she felt as if her vaginal 
mound was straining to reach the comfort of her own 
hands, and she felt a rush of inner moisture proclaim 
the intensity of the weird sensations. She could feel 
that the crotch-band of her panties was slightly 
moistened and her fingers inched forward, like 
individual bloodhounds on the scent of a relentless 
target.

Moments of rationality broke intermittently through the 
clouds of her frenzy, and taunted her with unanswerable 
questions. What had turned her into a roiling mass of 
feverish desire? Was it because Mike hadn't made love 
to her for so long? Or were the dirty pictures having 
an illicit prurient effect on her?

Her fingers kneaded at the burning lips of her 
moistened pussy through the flimsy panties and Sandra 
winced from the delicious contact. Why should I be 
denied pleasure? her mind argued dimly. All those girls 
were enjoying themselves; Mike was pleasing them... 
it's not fair that I should be left out...

As though they had received assent, her fingers 
burrowed hurriedly under the leg band of her panties 
and teased over to the tingling flesh of her swollen 
pussy lips, and Sandra felt the fleshy folds pulsate 
under her sensitive fingertips. She sighed from the 
exquisite sensation, feeling relief flow through her. 
This is wrong... YOU SHOULDN'T DO THIS! Veiled threats 
echoed through her mind, hidden warnings from 
schoolgirl-filled corridors... dark messages about evil 
masturbation...

But Sandra was too intoxicated with the rush of 
pleasure to pay any heed to her own somber warnings, 
and her fingers continued to plunge into the warm deep 
recesses of her desire-drenched pussy. Nothing mattered 
to her now - the whys and wherefores were unimportant - 
all that she was concerned with was quenching the 
raging fires that had sprung up unattended in her 
loins, and which required heavenly fuel to feed its 
lascivious hunger before it allowed itself to be put 
out.

Suddenly irritated by the impediment of her panties, 
her hands began to tear impatiently at them, and she 
raised her hips from the swivel chair, and eased them 
down over her thighs, leaving them dangling at her 
knees. But she didn't care about that - her hands were 
rolling up her soft angora dress and bunching it about 
her hips, and she reveled in the freedom of exposing 
her passion-enflamed loins to the cool evening air 
which was rushing in from the half-opened office 
window. Her fingers dug impatiently again at her 
burning furrow, and convulsively probed at the 
trembling hole of her clasping cunt.

"Aaaaaahhhhhhhh..." she couldn't suppress a sigh as her 
hand cupped onto the now moistly pulsating orifice and 
she felt the heated walls close in like a vise on her 
sunken middle finger.

The passion inside her was goaded on to greater fever 
by the lurid thoughts which had taken possession of her 
head and would not yield. Obscene thoughts framed by 
the disgusting photographs she had seen, images of 
desire and lust instigated by many actions and acted 
out in many forms. She was almost convinced that a 
large heated penis was ramming into her eager, open 
pussy, that she was one of those girls whose head was 
thrown back in complete abandon, whose mouth was open 
and from which a stream of sighs was rushing, whose 
hips were churning under the delicious onslaught of a 
heavy, passion-bloated cock which was plunging deeper 
and deeper and harder into her...

Waves of heat were washing over her now as she ground 
her buttocks down into the leather of the seat and 
revolved her saturated fingers around inside the 
velvety interior of her febrile vaginal sheath. A 
feeling of dizziness was taking control of her, coupled 
with a wonderful sensation of relief, and now she knew 
she was cumming, because she felt so good all over, and 
her hips were jerking uncontrollably, and a mist of 
hot, feminine orgasmic fluid washed down over her 
churning fingers, and she felt the office revolve 
around her and her head was torpedoed by a kaleidoscope 
of collaged nude figures, male and female, all fucking 
and sucking and licking in total frenzy, and she was at 
the center of it all, and she was loving it, every 
minute of it...

Sandra slunk back against the chair, drained of all 
energy, curiously devoid of all feeling but a satiated 
stupor which controlled her and made it impossible for 
her to do anything, not even pull her dress down over 
her naked thighs. Her legs were splayed, her panties 
hanging uselessly at her knees, and in the dim of the 
mortification which was beginning to manifest itself 
inside her, she reassured herself icily... "he'll pay 
for this... I'll make him pay for this..."

***

Sam Maguire eased himself down from the ledge under the 
office window, and with a furtive glance around, slunk 
off into the foliage that surrounded the Peters' house. 
He was still trembling with excitement, and could 
hardly believe what he had seen. Later, when he got to 
his quarters, he would go over it all again in his 
mind, dwelling on every single detail of what he had 
seen. He couldn't quite believe that he had been so 
lucky. He thanked his lucky stars that he had decided 
to have a peek when he saw the window open in the 
office, and heard muffled sounds from inside. Of 
course, it was fairly dim inside, but still, he could 
see what was going on.

I seen her! I seen her finger-fucking her own pussy! he 
chuckled to himself, treasuring the memory of the faint 
glimmer of hair-lined pink he had glimpsed between her 
open thighs as he eavesdropped on the demented woman. 
He had seen her flimsy white little panties dangling at 
her knees, too. 

Who'd have thought that he, a mere farmhand, would have 
got a front row seat, and seen with his own eyes the 
beautiful wife of his boss, playing with herself? All 
the nights he'd dreamed about the lovely, haughty Mrs. 
Peters, all the times he'd imagined what she'd be like 
with her dignity lost and stripped bare-ass naked... 
now he'd seen her, half-naked anyway. She didn't see 
him, didn't know he'd been watching, but he had been, 
and God, he wouldn't have missed it for anything.


Chapter 2
=========

Mike hurried over to the dairy and went straight to the 
milking parlor. He spotted Eve right away, standing to 
the right of the long row of cows already chained in 
the milking passage. She had put on a white coat, and 
her blonde hair was piled high on her head, and capped 
with a small band of white. Even with her fair, creamy 
skin, she did not look washed-out, and Mike thought to 
himself how attractive she looked in the white dairy 
coat. 

Her ample curves were cleverly accentuated by the 
tightly belted garment and Mike could not resist 
running his eyes over her proud, full breasts jutting 
out like snow-capped peaks, the slight sway of her 
molded hips, the long arch of her shapely legs. She was 
talking to Sam Maguire, and turned when she heard Mike 
come in.

"Good Evening, Miss Slater. I hope I haven't kept you 
waiting too long."

"Oh no, Mr. Peters. Sam here has been showing me the 
ropes and making me feel at home. And do call me Eve, 
please."

"All right, Eve," Mike laughed. "We don't stand on 
formality here, so you might as well call me Mike."

Mike felt more at ease when Sam had ambled off to 
attend to the animals already milked. He felt a warm 
friendliness exuding silently from Eve, and it 
comforted him somehow, as he was still stinging from 
Sandra's verbal blows. He felt that her accusations had 
been unjust; he had bent over backwards over the past 
year to make up for the affair she had found out about, 
and yet nothing seemed to please her. 

She had changed so much over the past few years, he 
mused sadly to himself; she wasn't the same woman he'd 
married, laughing, full of fun, ready for anything. She 
had turned into a nagging, whining shrew and didn't 
seem to care whether he was there or not. It was that 
feeling of not being wanted that had made him seek 
refuge in other women. Of course, he felt guilty about 
it, feeling like a rat as he slunk off to his 
clandestine meetings, but he had to do something, or 
he'd go mad. Still, it was unfair of her to accuse him 
of being interested that way in Eve. He'd be mad to try 
anything with her, right under Sandra's nose. Not that 
he'd mind.

"A penny for them!" Eve's light-hearted voice chimed in 
on his rambling thoughts, and her interruption caused 
him to blush to the roots of his hair.

"I'm sorry, Miss... Eve, I mean... I've been so rude; I 
was completely carried away..." he stammered, conscious 
of her twinkling gray eyes fixed on him. He felt 
awkward, like a schoolboy. Her searching graze was so 
intent, he felt sure for a brief instant that she must 
have read his thoughts, but knew that was ridiculous.

"Well," he began lamely, "do you think you'll enjoy 
working here?"

"Oh yes," she exclaimed, smiling widely. "Everything's 
so up-to-date, and you've got a fine herd. Sam showed 
me around everywhere, and I even saw your donkey herd. 
That broken-colored stallion is magnificent!"

"Yes, he's a fine fellow, isn't he? Imported from 
England from one of the champions over there. I hope to 
have some good progeny from him next year."

"How is he working out as a sire?" Eve asked 
interestedly. Mike started, her question disturbing 
him. What did she mean? She knew he had only just got 
the stallion, that there wouldn't be any foals till 
next year.

"Eh, what do you mean?" he asked guardedly.

"I mean, does he do the job properly? He looked pretty 
young to me!"

Mike found himself coloring again. What was the matter 
with the girl, asking questions like that?

"He's able to manage," Mike faltered, and immediately 
turned his attention to placing the clusters on the 
first cow's teats. Normally, the dairy girl and Sam did 
the actual milking, but as Eve was new, and the machine 
might be unfamiliar to her, Mike had decided to help 
her, in case she needed any instructions or had any 
problems.

"I love the feel of a cow's teat in my hand," Eve mused 
to him, moving on to the next animal. "It feels so 
soft, so sensuous," she went on dreamily, "and it 
almost comes to life as the milk flows through it, and 
the thick frothy cream spurts out of it..." Mike was 
glad he was hidden from her sight, and that she 
couldn't see the flushed look of astonishment on his 
face. Her voice was so hazy, her tone so sultry, and 
Mike could see out of the corner of his eye that she 
was caressing one of the pink-tinged teats as tenderly 
and lovingly as if... He felt stunned by the impact of 
his own lewd thought. As if it were a man's cock! That 
was the thought that leaped into his head and drummed 
persistently at his consciousness.

"Mike, could you help me please!" she called out 
suddenly, and he found himself rushing over to her, 
glad of the chance to be near her again. She was 
hunched over one of the milk tube clusters which was 
lying on the ground, and Mike's eyes were drawn, as if 
by a magnet, to the exciting split between the tops of 
her creamy white breasts. He was mesmerized by the 
enticing glimpse of her deep cleft and had to drag his 
eyes away when she looked anxiously up at him.

I seem to have lost one of the tops," she said 
worriedly, and Mike got down on his knees beside her, 
and scanned the straw for the dark-rimmed cap.

"Here it is!" he said suddenly, picking it out of a 
golden sheaf, and he began to screw it back into the 
tube.

"Oh thank goodness you found it," Eve breathed, laying 
one of her small white hands on his thigh, "I was so 
worried." Her touch was like a firebrand on his flesh 
and when he looked at her, she was smiling at him.

"Well, we'd better get on with the milking," he said 
weakly, and reluctantly, it seemed to him, she removed 
her hand from his thigh. He suddenly felt bereft, as if 
a part of him was missing. Pull yourself together, he 
chided himself, you're acting like a teenager, 
imagining all sort of ridiculous things.

They worked silently, preparing all the cows for 
milking, and Mike's thoughts were swirling around in 
his head. He couldn't shake loose the memory of her 
touch on his thigh. Did she mean to do that, or was it 
just an accident? And what did she mean by all that 
stuff about the teat?

Finally, Mike switched on the milking machine, and the 
barn was filled with the vibratory sounds of the 
pulsator.

"Mmm, it's hot in here!" Eve said suddenly, and began 
to unbutton her dairy coat.

"D'you mind if I take this off?" she queried Mike, and 
when he replied, "of course not," she removed it, and 
Mike saw that she was wearing a red see-through blouse 
and a tight black mini-skirt. He could see that she was 
wearing a matching red bra, really only a strip of 
lace, and his eyes were riveted on the generous mounds 
of her ivory breasts which were visible through the red 
nylon.

"Do you like them?" Eve's voice broke in on his 
distraction, and he could only stare open-mouthed at 
her. Had he heard her right? His heart began to thud 
uncomfortably in his chest and he was at a loss as to 
what to do.

"Would you like to see them?" Again her gay, mocking 
voice startled him.

"Wha..." he could only stammer.

"Would you like to see my breasts, Mike?" she asked 
again with exaggerated slowness, walking a step closer 
to him.

"Are you out of your mind?" Mike snapped, afraid that 
his mind was playing tricks on him. "This is no time 
for games!"

"I'm not playing any games!" Eve said silkily, and Mike 
watched in boggling disbelief as her fingers fumbled 
with the buttons on her sheer blouse. Gaping, he saw 
the edges fall away and reveal the exquisite form of 
her perfectly molded breasts, made all the more 
provocative by the dainty confines of her lacy bra. He 
could see the alabaster flesh heaving slightly and was 
hypnotized by the rhythmic rise and fall of the 
luscious orbs.

Incredibly, he saw Eve's hand slip around to the back, 
and in a moment, she was shrugging the thin satin 
straps from her smooth, pearly shoulders.

"Christ, they're beautiful!" He couldn't resist gasping 
as the full glory of her exquisitely sculpted breasts 
came into his astonished view. Craning his neck, his 
eyes bulged as he stared at the creamy expanse of the 
silky mounds, surmounted by delicate pink nipples, 
semi-erect from the rustling of her bra. Her hands 
crept up and cupped the full rounded young spheres, 
thrusting them out, pointing the hardening little buds 
at her disbelieving employer.

"God, Eve, I..." he murmured, unable to tear his eyes 
away from the half-naked girl. His head was swirling - 
things were happening too fast for him. He could feel 
the protuberance of his cock growing, and it was 
beginning to swell against the confines of his pants. 
His hands fidgeted by his sides - they itched to reach 
out and clasp those glorious globes of young college-
girl tit flesh, to knead and pummel them. 

His mouth longed to take the tiny budding nipples 
between his lips, coax them into turgidity with his 
tongue, nip on their sweetness with his teeth. God, she 
was driving him mad, standing there half-dressed, like 
some youthfully naked Venus. She moved closer to him, 
so close that her naked breasts brushed against the 
blue denim of his work shirt, and the delicious contact 
sent eddies of almost intolerable pleasure soaring 
through him. 

Sinuously, she rubbed the hardened tips against his 
chest, purring like a cat, her arm resting casually on 
his thigh again. He wanted to pull away, order his 
errant young employee to get dressed, get on with the 
milking, but he couldn't. What he really wanted to do 
was take her in his arms, crush his mouth down on hers, 
knock the breath out of her with his kiss, caress those 
ripe boobies of hers, and then fuck her, yes, fuck her 
to within an inch of her life. Instead, he managed to 
inch backward a little.

"Eve... we shouldn't..." he faltered, his eyes dropping 
again to the sensuous grace of her unadorned breasts.

"We shouldn't... what?" she queried boldly.

"We... you shouldn't... tease a man like that!" he 
gasped, feeling his face flush. Yes, that's what she 
was doing, teasing him with her naked tits, her sulky 
voice, her veiled hints. Well, she'd better watch her 
step, or she'd get more than she bargained for!

"I'm-not-teasing!" she enunciated, her hand slowly 
reaching for the side zip of her brief black skirt. 
With a horrified stare, he watched as she eased the 
skirt down over her full hips, slipping it down her 
thighs, and kicking it aside as it reached her ankles, 
leaving her nude except for a tiny pair of bikini 
briefs the same startling red as her bra.

"For God's sake, Eve, anyone could come in..." Mike 
gasped, his eyes riveted on the golden triangle of 
pubic curls squashed beneath the sheer fabric of her 
panties.

"So what?" Eve laughed. "You're a man, and I'm a woman. 
What we do is our business... isn't it?"

"You're crazy!" Mike rasped. "You'd better get dressed 
before... before I..."

"Before you go out of your mind?" she taunted, moving 
in a little circle around the demented man.

"That's right, you teasing little bitch!" Mike rasped, 
his control snapping like a straw inside him. "You 
can't expect to go prancing around in front of a man, 
naked like that, and not affect him. You should know 
what this could lead to, the temptation you're putting 
my way. I'm only flesh and blood, and this is more than 
any man can take!" He railed on, his mouth dry and his 
voice hoarse, fighting to control the demons of lust 
which were mutinying inside him. She continued to look 
at him with her mocking eyes.

"Poor Mike!" she clucked, her hand dropping down and 
cradling the considerable bulge of his swollen prick in 
her palm. "What are you getting so uptight about?" she 
crooned as she began to massage the growing organ, 
feeling it pulse hotly in her hand.

Perspiration broke out on Mike's face. What the hell 
did she think she was doing? Poor Mike indeed! She 
thought she could twist him around her little finger. 
Well, he'd show her he wasn't the Milquetoast she 
thought he was!

"Now listen, Eve," he began, but her hand was already 
drawing down the zipper of his pants, and his demented 
cock, rejoicing in its sudden freedom, leaped up, 
cleaving the air, the red bulbous head grotesque in its 
palpitating arousal. His mouth hinged open as he stared 
down at the apparition of his own blood-engorged prick, 
and he moaned from the tremendous contact between her 
cool fingers and his heated, throbbing flesh. Her hands 
stroked and kneaded the elongated rod, drawing it out 
into an even greater length and Mike felt powerless to 
do anything but stand there and allow his new employee 
to stroke his ever hardening cock in her masterful, 
exciting way.

"Mmmm, what a nice big cock you've got, Mike!" Eve 
hummed, continuing her rhythmic pummeling of his 
pulsating organ, "I just know I'm going to enjoy 
working for you..."

Her hand reached in and cupped the squirming sac of his 
testicles in her palm, and Mike felt rising shivers of 
ecstasy course through him, emanating from the 
sensitive balls. Mike leaned back against the edge of 
the stall, lost in the sensual reverie that Eve was 
weaving around him. God, her hand felt so good on his 
cock, stroking and kneading like that... it was a long 
time since he'd felt a hot hand on his prick... too 
long, in fact... Sandra never touched him there... 
SANDRA! The memory of his wife jarred him back to 
reality. She could easily walk in here, find him like 
this, being stroked and caressed by this young 
voluptuous agricultural student! It would mean the end 
of everything, their marriage, all they had worked for! 
She'd never forgive him!

With a tortured groan, he wrenched back from Eve and 
backed out of the stall. His face burning, he stuffed 
his long suffering penis back into his pants, and 
hurried over and turned off the milking motor.

I don't know what came over me..." he mumbled. I 
must've been crazy... anybody could have come in...!" 
Unable to meet her gaze, Mike hurried over to the cows, 
and began to undo the clusters frenziedly, his fingers 
shaking.

"Mike!" Eve's soft voice was directly behind him. 
Squatting to remove the clusters from the cow's teats, 
he half-turned and saw Eve standing directly behind 
him.

"My God!" he gasped, the milk-clusters falling from his 
hands. She was stark naked! She was standing with her 
legs slightly apart, and he could just barely see the 
faint pink sheen of her pussy lips peeping out from 
under the soft resilient thatch of golden curls. His 
throat felt arid, and his voice failed him. He could 
only stare. She was like a creature from another world. 
A strange, exotic female who towered over him, and was 
omnipotent. She held the power to transmit incredible 
sensual ecstasy to him, and he was her slave.

"Eve..." he managed to croak feebly.

And then she was beside him, kneeling on the soft 
straw, pushing him gently back. He was unresisting, 
borne along on the wind of her tremendous sexuality. He 
was completely in her power, and yielded as she once 
more freed the heated protuberance of his bulging cock. 
He sighed an uncontrollable moan as it sprang up from 
the forest of his pubic hair and gasped again as her 
fingers once more encircled it, pulling on it gently. 
Her fingers were easing off his pants, and were playing 
titillating along his thighs, sending chills of 
pleasure rippling up and down and along his skin, and 
kindling great flames of heat deep in the pit of his 
stomach. 

Like a robot, his hands reached up eagerly for the 
target they yearned, and grabbed the full soft mounds 
of her tender breasts, and clutched at the delicate 
flesh with his talon-like fingers, making her wince 
from the sudden pain, and leaving little red welts on 
the smooth white skin. His fingers drubbed the hard 
little beads of her nipples, rubbing them mercilessly, 
tugging on them until they were rigid little spears. 

Beside him, the cow fidgeted nervously, anxious over 
the unaccustomed disturbance at her feet, and Mike felt 
a moment's paralyzing fear lest her hooves lash out at 
his prostrate body. But all practical consideration 
fled from his brain as he felt his young milk maid 
settle herself over him, her long smooth thighs 
straddling his naked hips and Mike could feel the graze 
of her soft curling pubic hair as it brushed against 
his naked stomach. Still grasping his distended cock in 
her hand, she began to guide it towards the warm 
grasping furrow of her cunt, and Mike sighed with 
pleasure as he felt the hard rubbery head caress the 
soft delicate tissue already moist with expectation.

She began to sweep the bulging head of his inflated 
prick along the length of her pulsating cuntal split, 
and the fluted edges of her moistly glistening inner 
lips clung tenaciously to his hard masculine flesh, and 
the bulbous head became lubricated with her free-
flowing vaginal juices. 

His head was swirling and a wave of pleasure, such as 
he had not experienced in a long time, was washing over 
him again and again, and with each cleansing wave, he 
was laved of any doubts and fears he might have had. 
Gone was all worry about his wife or anyone else 
finding him stretched out with his naked young female 
employee; gone completely was any fear of discovery. 
All that mattered was the unbelievable thrill of 
ecstasy he was feeling and which he knew would mount up 
to an incredible crescendo of hedonistic delight.

"Mmmmm..." Eve sighed, "your cock feels so good against 
my pussy..."

The lewd words coming from the young, innocent faced 
girl's lips excited Mike even more and he felt lust 
mushrooming inside him and threatening to turn him into 
a raving beast. His hands flew down and grasped the 
girl's slim tapering hips, and held her in a vise-like 
grip. Hungrily, he began to rotate her entire pelvis 
until she was revolving over the spongy cap of his 
burgeoning penis still grasped firmly in her hand. 
Gingerly, she began to position herself over the 
jutting instrument, easing herself down slowly, until 
she had managed to insert the huge distended head up 
inside the tender inner folds of her cunt mouth.

"Aaaaahhhhhhh..." she sighed, accustoming herself to 
the hard feeling of a heavy, pounding prick inside her. 
But the initial contact unleashed the fury of Mike's 
lust, and with a savage snarl, he crashed the helpless 
girl's pelvis downward, driving his thick rod upwards 
with flesh-splitting cruelty.

"AAAARRRRGHHHHHHHH..." Eve screamed out and struggled 
in a vain attempt to dislodge the terrible instrument 
from her unsuspecting depths. But she was completely 
skewered, and the fleshy hair-lined outer lips of her 
pulsing vagina were resting on the tickling nest of 
Mike's blond pubic forest. Beside them, the cow 
snorted, frightened by the ear-piercing scream, and 
began to paw the ground ominously.

Mike's fingers clawed at the soft resilient flesh of 
Eve's smooth rounded buttocks as he raised her loins 
upward, feeling her sensitive inner membrane cling to 
his hard fleshy rod as her heated vaginal sheath slid 
upwards. He held her poised above him, leaving just the 
hard burgeoning head still buried inside her, and then 
he crashed her down again, feeling the spongy global 
mounds of her buttocks flatten down against his pubic 
area as his tunneling prick plunged far up inside her, 
cleaving her unaccustomed flesh with cruel obstinacy. 
He could feel the pliant entrance of her cringing womb 
yield before his unabated onslaught and a gasp of 
mingled shock and excitement escaped her as she felt 
the unexpected pressure so deep up inside her impaled 
belly.

Eve's eager vagina had accustomed itself to the 
ponderous girth of Mike's trammeling penis, and she 
began to move up and down freely, establishing a yo-yo 
like rhythm. Mike's palpitating cock seemed to expand 
even more inside her and she responded with a gentle 
tentative flexing of her practiced inner muscle which 
seemed to excite him to even greater lust. His hands 
shot up eagerly and enfolded the enticing orbs of her 
breasts in his palms, and they rubbed and caressed her 
throbbing flesh, sending chill after chill curdling 
through her blood, making passion pulse hotly through 
her veins.

"Oh God, Mike..." she gasped, her hands clutching at 
his tensely corded thighs, "your hands feel good on my 
tits... as good as your cock feels inside me..."

Tremors of passion were spasming through Mike. Eve's 
lewd words of praise sent lurid shivers running up and 
down his spine and doubled the already incredible 
pleasure he was feeling. He could hardly believe what 
was happening! Only this morning, this girl was a 
complete stranger, newly arrived from Agricultural 
School, and now, after a turn of events which had left 
him breathless, they were fucking, or rather, she was 
fucking him! Yes, she was the one who had seduced him, 
and who was now riding him like a savage Indian girl on 
a half-wild mustang, her thighs clenching his hips 
viciously, and the soft inner hole up between her legs 
milking furiously on his rampaging cock. He had never 
experienced anything like this before - stretching out 
on the soft golden straw, being screwed by a real woman 
- because that's what Eve was, there was no doubt about 
that. Beside him, the cow lowed deeply, finally 
accepting the strange, nakedly writhing couple beside 
her, and Mike felt her breath, warm and sweet scented, 
wafting gently over his perspiring face.

Mike glanced up and saw that Eve's face was coated with 
perspiration, her mouth was half open and her head was 
flung back. Her luxuriant coils of curls had become 
undone and her silky flaxen hair was streaming down 
like a silver stream over her bare creamy shoulders. He 
had released his savage hold on her breasts and now the 
full ripe spheres were bobbing from her exertion, the 
reddish-brown nipples jutting out like berries, and the 
brown aureoles were crinkled in their contracted 
excitement. 

His lust-glazed eyes traveled down the length of her 
magnificent body, coated with moisture, reveling in the 
soft yet supple milkiness of it, the provocative curve 
of her womanly hips, the lemon-colored fleece of pubic 
down which meshed so indistinguishably with his own. 
Her long slender thighs were like alabaster columns and 
Mike could see that the inner tendons stood out like 
whipcord against the ivory inner skin. 

She continued to grind wildly up and down on his 
jerking prick, making a little teasing rotary movement 
as she rose up. Her fingers slipped around behind her 
squirming buttocks and stroked the squirming sac of his 
testicles in a sudden swift movement which sent his 
roiling sperm into a frenzy of churning liquid deep 
inside the darkness of his balls.

"Christ, Eve," he panted through the breathlessness of 
his mounting passion, "you're... you're incredible!... 
oh God, keep tickling my balls like that..."

Mike felt a rush of heat that started in the pit of his 
stomach rise up in an overpowering curtain and steam 
through him, and at the same time, his cock began to 
jerk uncontrollably and the ache in his writhing balls 
had become unbearable.

"AAAAAGGGHHHHHHH... keep fucking... keep fucking... I'm 
cumming! I'm CUUUMMMMIIINNNGGGGG!"

And then his body was caught up in a gigantic 
whirlwind, and he thought he would lose consciousness 
because a blackness appeared in front of his eyes, and 
he felt he was drifting away, but his faltering 
rationality was arrested by Eve's own hoarse screams.

"Oh God Mike, I'm cumming too. I'm... AAAHHHHHHH!" And 
she was cumming too, her pelvis pounding against his 
like gigantic waves against storm-tossed rocks. Her 
fingers were like razor-sharp spears cutting into the 
flesh of his hips, and the interior muscle of her 
vaginal sheath was an insatiable entity of its own. It 
was sucking, demanding, and getting, its life-giving 
quencher of his thick store of semen, which suddenly 
began to spurt along the pulsating tube of his spasming 
penis and hose hotly up into the heated cavern of her 
pussy. 

Almost immediately it seemed, the frothy liquid 
trickled back down around his pumping prick and seeped 
into the matted pubic curls, already moistened with the 
shower of her orgasmic release. The cow was blowing hot 
puffs of breath down onto Mike's steaming face, her big 
liquid brown eyes staring in boggled amazement at her 
two temporary stall companions. Her big, wet white nose 
just touched Mike's face as the last heave convulsed 
his dying prick and he emptied the final drop of his 
boiling semen into Eve's still hungrily twitching 
pussy. At last, the exhausted girl collapsed onto his 
panting body, and his now limp prick slipped easily 
from her wet, cock-stretched passage.

"That... that was the best fuck I've ever had!" Mike 
acknowledged gratefully. And it was. There was 
something about the spontaneity of the act which 
impassioned him to fever pitch, and the girl's own 
total sexuality, and lack of restraint, unleashed a 
similar characteristic in him. "You're quite a girl, 
Eve," he added admiringly.

"You're a real man yourself, Boss," Eve praised, 
smiling down at him. 

"You sure know how to please a girl!"

She lay her face down on his chest so he couldn't see 
her widening grin. Things are working out just great, 
she thought happily. She had been thrilled when she had 
met her new boss, captivated right away by his virile 
good looks, and now she had discovered that he had 
above average talent in other respects, too. Yes, she 
murmured to herself, I think I'm going to enjoy myself 
very much on this job!


Chapter 3
=========

Sandra threw her corduroy jacket over her shoulders and 
stepped out into the yard. There was a slight breeze 
which alleviated some of the premature heat of early 
May, and she began to amble towards the barns. She was 
glad the house was a short distance away from them - 
she didn't think she could stand it if the animals were 
milling about directly outside the front door. 

There was nobody about and Sandra was grateful for 
that. She didn't feel like talking to anyone this 
morning, and particularly not to Eve, who turned out to 
be a very talkative type, always anxious to engage 
herself or anyone else in conversation. Sandra had seen 
her several times talking to Sam in the yard, and she 
had caught several glimpses of Mike and Eve laughing 
intimately together.

Mike himself had been very incommunicative when she 
brought up the subject of the new dairy help and how 
she was working out. Of course, she reflected, after 
that dreadful fight they'd had, she couldn't expect him 
to confide in her. She wished now that she hadn't been 
so hasty in accusing him of being interested in Eve, 
that she had kept her suspicions to herself, but the 
damage was done, and now she couldn't help thinking 
that there was something going on between them. 

It was several days now since they'd had that fight and 
Mike usually tried to make up with her right away after 
such an argument, regardless of whose fault it was, but 
this time, he just didn't seem to care. That was the 
part that hurt, he didn't seem to care anymore what she 
thought or felt. She felt it was a stroke of luck that 
he'd gone into town early this morning and wouldn't be 
back until tomorrow. It would give her time to think, 
and maybe even plan some strategy for getting back in 
his good books. 

But if he is really interested in that girl, I don't 
know what I'll do, she worried, afraid she might have 
gone too far. She hated to admit it to herself, but 
there was no denying that Eve was really attractive, 
and she had a slow, sensual way about her that Sandra 
knew was exciting to men. She felt a twinge of jealousy 
stab at her, and tried to banish from her mind the 
nagging suggestion, almost a certainty, she feared, 
that Mike had become involved with the new dairy maid. 

No matter what happened, she didn't want to lose Mike. 
But should I just sit back and let him play around with 
that little blonde right under my nose? she argued. 
Almost painfully, she thought again of the cache of 
pornographic pictures she'd discovered, lewd filthy 
photographs of Mike in disgusting positions with 
different women. 

The shock of finding them still affected her, and her 
subsequent action of getting aroused by them shamed her 
through and through. She didn't even allow herself to 
think of that evening, when she had shamelessly 
fingered her own vagina and actually reached a climax, 
all from the sensations, evil, wicked sensations, 
aroused in her by the vile snapshots. Every time the 
thought came into her mind, when the memory tried to 
torment her, she had brushed them back into oblivion, 
waiting for time to erase the sharp-honed edge of her 
humiliation.

"Good morning, Mrs. Peters," a voice sang out suddenly 
behind her. It was Sam Maguire, and Sandra, turning 
around, saw that he was leading Jacob, the donkey 
stallion.

"Good morning, Sam," she replied, feigning 
cheerfulness, and immediately turning her attention to 
the animal. She hated having anything to do with the 
hired hand. She never knew what to say to him, always 
being afraid of sounding too familiar, or worse still, 
acting very haughty with him. She began to stroke the 
donkey's strong arched neck.

"Jacob seems to be in fine shape," she mused, running 
her eyes admiringly over the animal's sleek black and 
white body.

"All the exercise he gets keeps him trim," Sam smirked, 
and Sandra turned to look at him.

"I thought he's kept inside for the season..." Sandra 
puzzled. The donkeys were the only animals she was 
really interested in on the farm, and it was she who 
had encouraged Mike to keep them in the first place. 
They were becoming very popular everywhere, and top 
quality foals could fetch very high prices. They had 
ten mares, and just this one stallion.

"That's what I mean," Sam leered. "His mares keep him 
busy, and he sure knows how to rise that big rod of 
his. Yes sir," he went on, staring intently at her, 
"them she-donkeys sure seem to love that long prick of 
his shoved far up in their."

"How-how dare you!" Sandra gasped, her face scarlet, 
mortified with embarrassment at the farmhand's lewd 
words. Who did he think she was, that he could talk to 
her like that, use such filthy language in her 
presence? Anger seethed inside her like bubbling oil, 
threatening to overflow and scald everything within 
distance. But she managed to control her feelings and 
said in a low, even voice, "Please watch your language, 
Sam. Mr. Peters does not tolerate obscenities, and I 
would hate to have to report your despicable behavior 
to him." 

Even to her own ears, her words sounded dictatorial and 
stuffy, but her shock was still electrically alive 
inside her, and she was incensed at the liberty the 
worker had taken with her. She had a good mind to tell 
Mike, and perhaps even have Sam fired for his 
insolence.

Sam looked the picture of the abject servant. He held 
his old cap in his hand, and his reddish-gray hair 
glinted in the morning sun. His head was slightly bent 
and Sandra saw with satisfaction that his face was 
suitably blanched with fear and consternation. Jacob 
stood by calmly, seemingly totally unaware of the minor 
drama his presence had caused.

Without another word, Sandra stalked away, leaving Sam 
glaring after her. Fucking bitch, he spat. Can't even 
take a joke. Well, she'll get her come-uppance one of 
these days; I'll see to that! In fact, tonight just 
might not be a bad time!

Sandra felt irked by the sound of the back doorbell. 
She had just settled down to watch TV and was looking 
forward to relaxing for a few hours. She had spent most 
of the day in the garden, digging and transplanting the 
seedlings she had sown in the spring, and she felt 
tired and wind burned when she finally came into the 
house and fixed a cold supper for herself. The heavy 
physical work of gardening had taken her mind off her 
worries, and now she had been hoping that the 
television would do the same, and that she would feel 
sleepy after watching a few shows, as she usually did, 
and that she would then drop off easily to sleep.

With a sigh, she got up and went through the kitchen 
and opened the door. She experienced a flicker of 
distaste that coupled with her annoyance when she saw 
who was there.

"Good Evening, Sam," she said tonelessly, not bothering 
to hide her irritation.

Sorry to bother you, ma'am," Sam muttered, fidgeting 
with his cap, his eyes downcast. "But the fuses went in 
the barn an' I can't see to do my work."

"Well, I think I've got some in the kitchen," Sandra 
said curiously relieved that he had a legitimate reason 
for calling on her so late in the evening. She found, 
somewhat to her surprise, that she had a new fear of 
the farm worker, a fear born from his distasteful 
remarks to her that morning. She sensed that there was 
an underlying hostility or arrogance in his attitude to 
her, and that his disrespect was a form of that 
aggression.

She noticed with displeasure that he had followed her 
into the kitchen, and willing herself to take no notice 
of him, began to look for the fuses. She wasn't quite 
sure where they were and rummaged around in the kitchen 
drawer. They weren't there and she knew that they must 
be on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet, where she 
kept the electric light bulbs.

"I'll get them, ma'am," Sam suggested when she told 
him, but she declined. She couldn't stand the thought 
of his dirty, and she supposed, clumsy hands on her 
clean kitchen cupboard, and unable to suppress a sigh, 
pulled the kitchen steps over in position. Mounted on 
the third step, she noticed that Sam had moved even 
closer to her so that he was almost directly under her. 
Thank goodness I'm wearing slacks she thought as she 
groped around for the fuses. Relieved to find them 
easily, she began to descend, thinking maybe now he'll 
go away and leave me alone.

Suddenly, she stiffened. The blood pulsed wildly in her 
veins and a sudden wave of heat engulfed her and 
threatened to overcome her. She just couldn't believe 
what was happening. His hands were on her buttocks, 
feeling them, squeezing them - he was actually 
caressing her back there!

She didn't know what to do. Fear washed over her, 
followed quickly by revulsion, disgust, anger. She 
hesitated for a split second on the steps. Should she 
order him to stop, or should she just ignore it? If she 
got angry, perhaps she might intimidate him, but on the 
other hand, he was brazen enough to touch her like 
that, and he might get violent. But conversely, if she 
just ignored him, might he not interpret that as an 
invitation to continue? Oh God, what should I do, she 
wondered wildly. His work-coarsened hands continued 
their lewd manipulation of her softly yielding ass 
cheeks, kneading and clutching, and it seemed to the 
agonized woman that an eternity passed in those few 
seconds.

Then, she could stand it no longer.

"Take your hands off me, you disgusting old man!" she 
shrieked, almost falling from the steps in her sudden 
angry horror. Relieved, she found herself on the ground 
once more, and gave vent to her feelings.

"How dare you? How dare you lay your hands on me? I'll 
see you're fired for this. Your impertinence today was 
enough, but you've gone too far this time!" She stood 
glaring at him, panting from her exasperated speech, 
her green eyes flashing like sparkling emeralds.

"No need for you to get on your high horse with me, 
lady," Sam leered, an arrogant sneer on his weather-
beaten face, "'cause I know what you're really like!"

Sandra was thrown off balance by his unexpected retort. 
She had anticipated apologies, sullenness, even a 
denial, but she had not expected him to be so 
completely defiant.

"What do you mean?" she asked, striving to keep a 
condescending tone in her voice. Her eyes swept 
contemptuously over his stocky, over-alled figure, and 
she imagined she saw him cringe under her proud stare.

"Hmm, guess not even your husband knows what you get up 
to when he's not around..." he said contemplatively, 
and Sandra's heart missed a beat. Just what did he 
mean? He was acting so strangely, not at all 
intimidated. She was beginning to feel worried. There 
was something menacing about this sudden change in 
their hired hand, and her pulse quickened in fear. She 
thought about screaming, but knew it was futile, 
because the other workers were in their quarters on the 
far side of the barns, and besides, the television in 
the lounge was blaring, and likely to drown out any 
cries for help she might make. Sam moved closer to her 
again, and she drew back suddenly from his insidiously 
searching hand which reached out and touched her hip.

"Get-get away from me!" she gasped, her terror 
mounting.

"C'mon now, honey, I happen to know you need a little 
lovin'!" Sam rasped, his eyes roaming freely over her 
trembling figure.

"I-I don't know what you mean!" she stammered. What was 
he hinting about?

"Don't play dumb with me, baby, 'cause ol' Sam knows 
more about you than you think!" There was a new ominous 
sound in his voice, an ugly, threatening note.

Sandra's heart raced with fear. He seemed to have 
something on his mind, something he was trying to 
threaten her with.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she said 
defiantly, hoping to inject her voice with courage.

"Let's put it this way!" he taunted, rubbing his hands 
together. "You had a real nice time cleaning out the 
office the other day, didn't ya?"

Sandra blanched, and suddenly her throat felt dry. She 
could only stare in horrified amazement at the 
triumphantly grinning figure of the workman. She just 
couldn't believe that she had heard him correctly, yet 
the enormity of the implication of his remark was 
slowly etching itself on her disbelieving brain.

"No... no!" she gasped, unable to stop herself.

"Oh yes!" Sam laughed, delighted at the effect of his 
bombshell on her. He was glad he'd waited to drop it on 
her, strung her out a little first, got her ready for 
the big one. "Yessirree," he went on, unable to 
relinquish his stunning victory over her, "cleanin' out 
the office was a real pleasure for you that day."

Sandra continued to stare in numbed silence at him. Did 
he know - had he seen her? Was that what he was hinting 
at, that he'd seen her looking at those pornographic 
pictures, seen her pushing her own panties down to her 
knees and fingering herself, seen her reach orgasm?

"What I do is my own business," she said flatly. She 
felt devoid of all strength, completely stripped of the 
will to put in his place this lewd uncouth worker who 
was bent on tormenting her.

"It sure is," he conceded, "but I'd say them glossy 
pictures are Mike's business, too."

Did he know about the pictures, too? she thought 
wildly, suddenly desperate to get away from this vile 
man.

"Will you please leave?" she said in a tone of quiet 
command, but Sam only edged forward, and then suddenly, 
grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her close to him. His 
other arm closed tightly around her, and he peered with 
lewd suggestion down at her.

"I could tell you really liked them colored pictures... 
you got real hotted up when you looked at them, didn't 
ya?"

Sandra was paralyzed with fear. She was afraid to 
struggle, afraid to waken his real anger, which she 
sensed was lurking near to the surface of his demented 
personality. She decided that if she ignored him, he 
might get tired of his little game.

"That one where they were sixty-nining is a real 
winner, ain't it?" Sam taunted. "That's your husband in 
the photograph, and did ya see the size of his cock 
jammed into the broad's mouth?" Sandra felt a rush of 
nausea, and fought to keep herself from retching. He's 
insane, her mind screamed, you're not safe with him... 
Oh God help me...

"...and did ya see her pussy, all red and juicy and 
ready? I bet Mr. Peters really liked getting his tongue 
in that little hole!"

"Oh stop it! Stop it!" Sandra screamed suddenly, 
beginning to struggle wildly, unable to take any more 
of her captor's leering obscenities.

"What's a matter, honey?" he leered, his hand 
tightening roughly around her breast, crushing it 
painfully through her cashmere sweater. "Don'cha wanna 
talk about them pictures?"

"No, No, please leave me alone!" she whimpered, her 
reason deserting her and leaving her a cringing mass of 
fear and bewilderment.

"How did ya like the one where Mr. Peters was giving it 
to the blonde in the ass?" Sam taunted again, and 
Sandra felt a fresh shudder of revulsion convulse her. 
As if by magic, a startling clear reproduction of that 
vile photograph leaped into the terrified woman's mind, 
and she could see the lewd scene finely etched on her 
brain - the straining white mounds of the girl's 
buttocks, the tiny dark ring of her anus nestled 
between the creamy spheres; Mike's hugely distended 
penis already inserted in the tiny puckered entrance. 

She couldn't banish the lurid apparition from her mind, 
and she felt suddenly that she was going mad. She 
wanted to scream, to shriek and wail, do anything to 
shatter the terrifying reality which encircled her, a 
reality of disgusting perversity, peopled by such 
lascivious monsters as Sam Maguire and her own husband, 
Mike. Part of the revolting present was the hired 
hand's tight convulsive clasp on her breast, and even 
as awareness sunk once more into her brain, she felt 
that same hand slip down along the curve of her waist 
and once more cup her buttock, squeezing it intimately 
in a lustful gesture. 

Sandra felt totally devoid of control over her own body 
and mind. Something had snapped in her when she had 
finally realized that this lowly farm worker had 
witnessed her surrender to her own lewd response to the 
filthy pictures, and now she realized his domination 
over her was complete when he had revealed an intimate 
knowledge of those same dirty photographs. Had Mike 
shown them to his employee? How many other people had 
he shown them to? New, more frightening thoughts 
alarmed the despondent woman. How long had Sam been 
aware of Mike's infidelities? Had Sam felt pity for 
her, Mike's wife, every time he saw her, knowing of 
Mike's secret life?

Sandra was barely aware of Sam's hand insinuating 
itself into the waistband of her slacks, flicking open 
the button, pulling down the zipper. Her racing, panic 
stricken mind occupied all her attention. The wife is 
always the last to know. The hackneyed statement jumped 
into her mind, and taunted her. Yes, she thought 
bitterly, I was the last one to know - even the farm 
hand knew before I did!

Her heart somersaulted inside her as she felt Sam's 
wandering hand press against the softness of her belly 
and move downwards toward the panty-clad mound of her 
pubic triangle. Oh God, what is happening? she thought 
wildly, really aware for the first time that the farm 
worker's hand was actually inside her slacks and was 
edging down towards her now trembling vagina!

"Oh God, stop it! STOP IT! !" she shrieked, struggling 
wildly. She couldn't let this happen - no matter what, 
she had to stop his lewd advances before they got any 
further. Her startling thoughts had thrown her off 
balance, putting her off guard, and now, this revolting 
man was trying to fondle her down there!

"Hold still, baby," Sam rasped hoarsely, "and let ol' 
Sam give ya li'l pussy what your two-timin' husband has 
been neglectin'."

Sandra stood stock still. Did he know that Mike hadn't 
made love to her in weeks? Had Mike told him? Oh God, 
it was too much to bear! Sam took advantage of her 
immobility and eased his hand inside the flimsy nylon 
protection of her panties and slipped down to the soft, 
hair-covered pelt of her vagina. The fingers hesitated 
there for a moment before slipping upwards and teasing 
slowly into the warm moist furrow of her pussy.

A shudder coursed through Sandra as she felt his hard 
insistent fingers down between her thighs on her naked 
genitals. She felt powerless to move. There was 
something irrevocable about his intrusion there - as if 
there was nothing to fight any more. He had forced his 
hand inside her panties - she had allowed things to get 
this far - and now, there was nothing she could do 
about it! She felt broken, a victim of events initiated 
by her husband when he had first started being 
unfaithful to her. His illicit actions had started the 
ball rolling for her subsequent acquiescence to the 
farm worker's lewd manual play. It was Mike's fault!

Sam's fingers probed and searched in the softly 
yielding cuntal folds, exploring the smooth, slightly 
pulsating lips, teasing about with confident 
insistence. Sandra was surprised at her own reaction to 
another man's hand between her legs. She knew it was 
partly because of her disembodiment from physical 
feeling, but couldn't deny that the strange fingers 
didn't feel bad down there.

"How d'ya like it, honey?" Sam hissed lewdly, "better 
than finger-fucking yourself, isn't it?" Unwillingly, 
Sandra admitted the memory of her own frantic fingering 
of her excited vagina, her scurrilous search for 
release. Shame flooded through her at the thought of 
how she had writhed under her own probing fingers, how 
she had squirmed her naked buttocks around lewdly in 
orgasm as she plunged her fingers deeper and deeper 
inside her. What was happening to her? First, she had 
enjoyed her own lewd masturbation, and now she was 
beginning to like the hired hand's fingers working 
deeper now up inside her gradually moistening pussy!

No, it can't be! Her mind screamed, it can't be 
happening to me! But there was no doubt now about it - 
she couldn't deny it. She was beginning to ENJOY Sam's 
fingers in her pussy, and in spite of her mind's 
horror, her traitorous body was beginning to undulate 
gently in time to the farm worker's insistent fingers 
between her thighs.

Sam felt a surge of triumph on sensing her submission 
to him. There was no denying that she was beginning to 
like it - he could feel a tiny, but sensuous flexing 
beginning inside her trembling vagina, and her whole 
body was beginning to shiver in anticipatory pleasure. 
He had won, he, the lowly farm worker, had succeeded in 
taming this heretofore haughty wife of his boss, who 
had so often looked down her nose at him! He could 
hardly believe his luck in catching her playing with 
herself in front of those dirty pictures of her husband 
in the study that afternoon.

Tiny mewls of pleasure began to spew from Sandra's lips 
and she leaned back against Sam and began to writhe, 
her loins churning in simulation of copulatory rhythm. 
She was being subjugated by the betrayal in her body, 
her will to resist curbed by the greater mastery of 
desire. Awareness of the reality of the situation was 
fading; consciousness of the growing tingle in her 
vagina was taking its place.

"How does that feel now, Mrs. Peters?" Sam breathed. 
"How do my fingers feel touching your pussy? His other 
hand was working at her firm rounded breast, squeezing 
and tweaking the hard turgid nipple through her 
sweater. Then, with a sudden upward movement between 
her legs, he ground his fingers hard into the wetly 
throbbing opening of her cuntal passage and wormed 
their stubby tips far up inside her.

"Ooohhhhhhhhhh..." Sandra moaned, jolted by the searing 
entry, tormented by the grating of his nails against 
her sensitive inner membrane. His fingers continued 
their wild rotary plundering inside her, and Sandra 
felt weird new sensations cavort through her body. Oh 
God... This is better than when I did it... she thought 
helplessly in the daze of her passion, as she pressed 
her now hungrily pulsating clitoral bud down on the 
relieving hardness of Sam's hand.

"You really love it now, don't you, babe?" he gloated, 
hardly daring to believe that this was really happening 
to him, that his own boss' proud little wife was really 
squirming under his manipulation.

"Oh yes," she hissed through passion-clenched teeth, 
"Oh yes, it feels so good... Mmmmmmmmm..."

Sandra's entire crotch was a throbbing mass of aroused 
nerve endings, and she felt as if an uncontrollable 
fire had been kindled there. Her clitoris felt round 
and hard and was pulsing strongly with the heated blood 
of desire, and the swollen fleshy outer lips of her 
hair-lined split were moist with passion. Chills 
rippled through her spine which contrasted with the 
heat which was rising from her groin, rising up to 
cover her face and neck in a hot, rosy flush.

She was moaning uncontrollably now, unconscious of 
everything but the delicious pleasure which was seeping 
into every crack and crevice in her weary body and 
infusing her with a joy she hadn't experienced for a 
long time. She felt as if she was soaring on the wings 
of some magical mythical bird which was flying high and 
taking her to a warm heavenly place where he could 
deposit her in a comfortable nest where nothing or no 
one would ever harm her again.

And suddenly, she was there, in that unreachable nest, 
gliding down into a feather soft resting place.

"Oooohhhhhhhhh..." she chanted, "I'm there... oh it's 
so good..." Her hips were jerking in a heathen rhythm, 
and she was mashing her vagina down onto Sam Maguire's 
tiring hand in ceaseless motion, and her hotly seeping 
pussy juices simmered down onto his fingers and 
lubricated them completely as they continued to 
instigate new and exciting pleasure inside her. Then, 
finally, when the heated sensations of passion had 
subsided and her body was reduced to convulsive 
twitching, a blanketing peace came over her and 
suddenly he left her alone to slumber in her long 
sought magic nest.

***

Sandra didn't know how long she was asleep, and it was 
dark when she woke. Blindly, she groped her way into 
the bedroom, and threw herself down on the bed, not 
bothering to remove her slacks or sweater. Her slacks 
were slipping down around her hips, but she was too 
tired to care. All the feeling of pleasure had deserted 
her body, leaving her an empty shell of misery and 
guilt. 

She could hardly allow her mind to dwell on the 
disgusting event from which she was just recovering, 
and her brain, almost jeeringly, refused to even 
reconsider the delight her body had experienced, but 
insisted in emphasizing the lewd aspect of her 
abhorrent submission to the farm hand's lewd handling 
of her naked vagina.

Feelings of self-loathing rose up in her and filled her 
with contempt for her own weakness. Kaleidoscopic 
pictures of her husband in different pictures with 
different girls, performing different prurient acts of 
self-gratification tripped through her mind, lascivious 
embroidery on the photographs she had actually seen, 
and they tormented her into a state of humiliated 
frenzy, until finally she dropped off into a fitful, 
disturbed sleep, her mind insisting in a last crippling 
blow, you're as bad as he is.


Chapter 4
=========

"For God's sake, Sandra, will you stop shouting? Do you 
want everyone on the farm to hear you?" Mike was 
getting exasperated. Ever since he'd come back to the 
house for dinner, she'd been nagging at him, and it was 
getting to be more than he could take. It had been like 
this for several days now. It seemed to him that his 
wife was forever harping on at him, like a harridan, 
about one thing or another, and nothing he did pleased 
her. 

She seemed to be particularly distressed ever since he 
came back from town, and he wondered worriedly if she 
had found out about him and Eve. He felt a lightening 
of his worry when he thought of his blond dairy helper 
- if it weren't for her, and the comfort she gave him 
over the last week or so, he'd have gone out of his 
mind.

"You mean you don't want your little blonde girlfriend 
to hear, isn't that it?" Sandra shrieked bitterly. She 
knew that she was acting like a fishwife, but she 
didn't care. The last few days had been hell for her. 
Tormented with guilt over the episode with their hired 
man when she had joyfully reached orgasm from his 
manipulation, she had taken out her feelings on her 
unsuspecting husband. 

The fact that he was rather furtive and silent with her 
didn't help matters, and although she longed for some 
sign of warmth from him, her nagging and complaining 
prohibited any show of tenderness. Consumed with guilt 
over her own infidelity, she had no trouble in 
imagining her husband to be engaged in similar action, 
and she was haunted in particular by the photographs 
she had uncovered. She felt she couldn't trust him - he 
had concealed a period of stealth and deceit from her, 
a period when he had had numerous adulterous affairs, 
and she had no reason now to think he was not 
continuing his old ways.

"You think I don't notice," she went on relentlessly, 
"but I saw you with your arm around that hussy 
yesterday! Where were you taking her? Into the cow-
stall to screw her?"

Mike flinched under her verbal assault. He hadn't 
realized that she'd noticed his friendliness with Eve, 
and hoped that she was only guessing wildly about what 
was going on.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Mike retorted, feigning 
nonchalance, his heart thudding at the memory of how he 
had in fact lead Eve towards the hay barn. He tingled 
even now at the memory of the passionate fire of their 
fucking, how her creamy, resilient body had fused with 
his as they writhed nakedly together on the hay, how 
she had welcomed him inside her with all the certainty 
of true womanhood. He shivered as he remembered how her 
tight, eager young pussy had felt as it had contracted 
like warm, throbbing liver around his pumping organ, 
how her pliant fleshy breasts felt under his caressing 
hands, how her full ripe lips felt as they returned his 
ardent kiss.

"Hah, you're thinking about her now, aren't you?" 
Sandra taunted, glaring with blazing eyes at him. "Have 
you forgotten about all the others?" She felt a stab of 
triumph when she noticed his sudden crimsoning, his 
quick look of worried fear.

"You didn't think I knew, did you?" she jeered, 
enjoying the look of perplexity that masked his face. 
She hadn't meant to throw it up to him about the other 
women in his life, but somehow, the expression of rapt 
pleasure he assumed when she knew he was thinking about 
HER, unleashed the green-eyed monster in her, and she 
couldn't hold back.

"W-what do you mean?" Mike said lamely. A worried knot 
of agitation was churning in his stomach, and he had an 
ominous premonition that Sandra had found out about his 
affairs.

"This is what I mean, you cheating bastard!" Sandra 
snapped, holding aloft a bundle of photographs, which 
Mike recognized with a sinking heart. She had found 
them!

"Have you forgotten about this blonde," Sandra jeered, 
waving a snapshot, "the one you're screwing in the 
ass?"

Mike blanched under his wife's taunting obscenities.

"That's enough," he said, his voice icy cold.

"What about that cute redhead, the one whose pussy you 
were licking and sucking? Have you forgotten her 
already?" Sandra went on hysterically.

"Give me those photographs, Sandra," Mike commanded 
calmly, although he was a turmoil of emotion inside. He 
had dreaded Sandra ever finding those lewd 
incriminations, and told himself that he should have 
destroyed them. Now he was paying for his 
procrastination. He had no idea how he was going to 
extricate himself from the results of his 
indiscretions, but he would worry about that later. All 
that mattered now was recovering the snapshots.

"Give-me-the-photographs," he enunciated again, and 
Sandra felt a quiver of fear. But she was determined 
not to give in.

"Like hell I will!" she taunted, and Mike, aggravated 
by her obstinacy, made a grab for them. Laughing 
shrilly, she held them up in the air, and began to 
dodge around the sitting room, laughing and tittering 
at her husband's attempts to retrieve the snapshots.

"Catch me if you can!" she yelled wildly, ducking 
behind the sofa. Mike, snarling with rage, threw 
himself at the settee, but his agile wife slipped out 
from behind it and once more prancing around the room.

"Stop that, you little bitch!" Mike spat, incensed at 
his wife's mockery of him. He made another lunge at 
her, and this time, managed to grab her wrist, holding 
her immobile.

"Now give them to me!" he ordered, his breath coming in 
pants from the unaccustomed exertion.

"Never!" Sandra gasped, looking wildly around the room 
and struggling vainly to escape.

"I'm afraid you've no choice," Mike jeered, give them 
to me, or I'll take them." Sandra was desperate. 
Somehow withholding the coveted snapshots from him was 
a symbol of some kind of victory over him, and she 
wasn't about to relinquish that so easily.

"I'm waiting, Sandra," Mike intoned, his fingers 
digging into her wrist.

"Then wait, you son of a bitch!" Sandra snapped, and 
with a defiant look of triumph, threw the bundle of 
lewd photographs onto the burning fire!

"You bitch! You goddamn little bitch!" Mike spat. She 
had burned his photographs!

His fingers tightened cruelly around her wrist as he 
stared at the burning photos. His raging anger had 
finally mastered his embarrassed self-reproach, and her 
spiteful sarcastic taunts echoed in his mind as the 
pictures burned, the glossy sheen curling and 
distorting the naked forms. As flames engulfed the mass 
of photographs, he pulled one away from the burning 
heap.

With unseeing eyes, he stared at the half-burned 
snapshot, the two naked figures on it barely 
recognizable. Shame and indignation boiled over 
together in the cauldron of his emotions, and with a 
growl, he threw Sandra down against the large ottoman 
at the foot of the sofa.

"I'll make you pay for that, you fucking little bitch!" 
he screamed, clutching wildly at her cardigan and 
tearing it open, sending several buttons flying, and 
ripping away her bra, revealing her full sensual 
breasts jutting out timidly. The sight of their naked 
glory only seemed to inflame him further, and he stared 
at the smooth ivory orbs, his face blushing beet red, 
and the cords of his neck stood out like rawhide.

"What do you think of that, eh?" he snarled, thrusting 
the half-burned picture in front of his terrified 
wife's eyes. "Is that what made you so disgusted?"

Sandra tried to turn away from him, but his hand 
suddenly dipped into her shiny black hair and wrenched 
her head around to face the wretched remnant of 
snapshot, and as her eyes swam with tears, she could 
barely make out the entwining forms on the photo. The 
figures were distorted and crumpled, but she could see 
clearly a thick, blood-expanded penis imbedded in a 
small dark anal ring, surrounded by soft white cheeks 
of deeply impaled buttocks!

Shudders of terror convulsed the cringing woman. She 
was deathly afraid of the mountain of anger she had 
moved in her husband, and was fearful lest he lose 
complete control.

"Well, how did you like that?" he shrieked, pointing at 
the disgusting photograph.

"Please Mike, I'm sorry, let's..."

"It's too late now to be sorry. You're gonna have to 
pay for this, you little bitch. I'm sick and tired of 
listening to you nag and complain. I've had all a man 
can take, you goddamn spoiled bitch!" His teeth were 
grinding in fury and his face wore an expression of 
bestial sadism. With a sudden movement, he grabbed her 
thin skirt, and yanked it hard, making the zipper give, 
so that he was able to rip it from her body. She lay 
there cowering beneath her furious husband, clad only 
in a thin pair of white lacy panties.

"Oh Mike, please don't!" Sandra whimpered, cringing 
against the ottoman, her arms clasped protectively 
around her breasts, her legs drawn up to protect the 
fulcrum of her body.

Mike stood over, a curious lust-satisfied look on his 
contorted face.

"Now let's see how brave you are!" he taunted, grabbing 
her again by the wrist, and throwing her face downward 
on the leather-covered hassock. Cruelly, he forced her 
face down onto the hard leather, his fingers locking in 
her hair. He could hear her blubbering into the 
ottoman, but her terrified fear only incensed him. His 
eyes traveled down the milky whiteness of her body, 
resting on the graceful flare of her panty-covered 
hips. 

He could see the twin orbs of her silky smooth ass 
clenched together beneath the flimsy material, and as 
he stared, a jeering memory of all the nights of cold, 
unsatisfying sex he had experienced with his 
complaining wife, came back to haunt him, and something 
boiled over inside him when he realized that she had 
been able to make him ashamed of his own natural 
masculine instincts. 

But even as he stared at the shivering figure of the 
helpless Sandra, he felt a familiar twinge that began 
in the pit of his loins, and rapidly spread to send his 
pulsating prick climbing into hard turgidity. He could 
feel his hardening rod pressuring against the fabric of 
his pants, and it was hot and throbbing against his 
inner thigh. The realization that she could still 
excite him, after what she had put him through, angered 
him to boiling point.

Angrily, he pulled down the last vestige of decency 
down over his wife's curvaceously rounded hips, and 
discarded the sheer panties on the floor. Her delicate 
ass cheeks stood out unprotected, vulnerable, the 
flicker pattern of the hearth fire shining over her 
soft polished flesh. Barely discernable between her 
quivering legs was the soft dark fleece of her pubic 
hair, and beneath it the faint sheen of her trembling 
little vaginal split.

Breathing hard, Mike placed his hands on the quivering 
spheres of alabaster flesh, and slowly drew the 
palpitating mounds apart.

Staring for a moment at the crinkled brown ring of her 
little rectum, Mike reached forward and probed 
experimentally at it with his finger. "Oooohhhhhh!" 
Sandra jerked forward as though she had been prodded by 
a hot coal. The high sprawling ottoman blocked her 
effort to draw away, and there was nothing she could do 
but submit. Mike's fingers were worming mercilessly up 
between the tender globes, holding her painfully in 
place. Sandra felt resistance drain from her. Her body 
was helpless, to be used as he desired - the 
responsibility was out of her control.

Mike ran his hands slowly up her smooth inner thigh all 
the way to the hair-lined lips of her moistened cunt.

"Mmmmm..." he slavered, his balls tingling with renewed 
excitement. There was something luridly arousing about 
the submissively kneeling posture of his wife, and he 
felt a soaring feeling of power as he sensed her 
terrified acquiescence. His palms spread over the 
smooth glossy ass-cheeks, cupping them firmly and 
slowly pulling them even further apart. The skin around 
her anus was straining outward as he pulled tighter and 
his fingers probed sharply at the puckered little ring 
like punishing electric needles.

"C'mon," he rasped bitterly, "spread 'em wide, real 
wide!" Sandra moaned under her husband's crude demand. 
She tried weakly to flare her buttocks, to do what he 
asked her, ever fearful of arousing his violent temper.

Mike continued to tease at the puckered little circle 
with his finger, relishing her agonized cringe against 
the unnatural contact, while his other hand kneaded 
without mercy at the soft buttock mounds. Bending his 
reddened face downward, he lashed out with his long 
moist tongue, and swept it along the length of the 
quivering crevice, leaving a shimmering wet saliva path 
between her trembling globes. 

Sandra couldn't control a shudder of revulsion on 
feeling his tongue there, and she could barely suppress 
a gasp as he suddenly bit viciously into her pliant 
buttocks, covering the soft sensitive flesh with sharp 
little bites. Then his pointed tongue was probing at 
the tiny exposed anal mouth, testing and teasing, 
trying to stretch the tightly-clenched, unyielding ring 
of her asshole.

"Oh my God, my God," Sandra sobbed, why is he doing 
that to me? Is this really my own husband torturing me 
like this?

Mike was jubilant when he heard her fresh sobs. That'll 
teach the little bitch to play games with me, he 
thought venomously, suddenly ripping down the zipper of 
his pants, and releasing the long swollen length of his 
lust-hardened cock. He sighed with relief from the 
feeling of freedom as the hotly throbbing rod jutted up 
proudly in the air. Stretching the straining white 
buttocks even more, he lay the full length of the 
palpitating member between her open ass-globes, resting 
the smooth bloated head against the tight little 
opening of her anus. Gleefully, he began to slide his 
heavy protuberance up and down the exposed brownish 
valley, a drop of premature semen lubricating the 
hungrily searching tip.

He placed the swollen head of his blood-engorged penis 
against the small hairless opening, and aided by his 
insistent fingers, the giant rod began to push and 
buffet against her nakedly defenseless rectum.

Although she tried to suppress the nauseating thought, 
Sandra was struck by the realization of what her 
husband had in mind for her. He was going to try to 
sink his huge hardened penis into her rectum! IT WOULD 
KILL HER! How could she take it? It would tear her in 
half - the pain would drive her out of her mind. And 
worst of all was the realization that her husband was 
really capable of this depraved act!

Her dazed thoughts ran back to those horrible 
photographs. Etched on her mind irrevocably was the 
image of his animalistic penetration anally of that 
lewd blonde - the look of debased pleasure on her face. 
Sandra shivered in revulsion and as she did, her tiny 
puckered sphincter brushed against her husband's rock-
hard prick, electrifying her with the insistent reality 
of her own shamefully kneeling position.

Tears ran from her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. 
She began to sob, low whining sounds, and struggled 
weakly to release her behind from her husband's 
sadistic grip.

"Shut up and hold still!" Mike snarled, and Sandra 
forced a stop to the convulsive quivering of her body. 
With a sudden, vicious lunge, Mike tried to shove his 
hot, throbbing prick through the tight rubbery opening. 
But it wouldn't go! It was too big! It pushed harshly 
against the unyielding membrane and Mike cursed softly 
at his momentary defeat. 

Sandra was shaking; she couldn't expect any escape from 
the depraved act that was to be performed on her. She 
only clenched shut her eyes, trying not to think, 
hoping that whatever was going to happen to her, would 
happen fast and be over with. For the very first time 
in her married life, she was desperately, deathly 
afraid of her husband, and she quaked under her 
terrifying fear.

Her face was numb from being pressed down into the 
leather and her whole body ached from the cramped 
awkwardness of her position. For a moment, a split 
second, she had been relieved that his huge penis had 
failed to pierce her anal passage, and had nurtured the 
faint hope that he would give up his disgusting 
intention. But he was trying again!

"AAAAARRRGGGHHHHHHHH! Oh God, stop it!" A blinding, 
tearing pain shot up her back bone. She felt a slight 
popping sensation at her anus and... OH GOD, HE WAS IN! 
Her own husband was raping her rectum! The startling 
pain took away her breath. The stretching, groping in 
her back passage was unbearable - as if someone were 
trying to plug her up back there with a huge barrel 
cork.

Mike was surprised at the virginal tightness of her 
anal passage. He hadn't expected so much resistance and 
his anger had steadily mounted as his patience drained 
away. His hard insistent cock was demanding 
satisfaction, and now he had finally inserted it just 
inside the tight rubbery circle.

The lust-maddened husband lurched forward again, 
sinking more of the enormous shaft into his wife's tiny 
tortured rectum.

"UUUGGGHhhhhhhhnnnnnnnn... oh no! NOOOOooooooo!"

Sandra's pelvis bucked and jerked against her husband's 
maniacal impalement, the barbaric pain giving her new 
strength. Futilely, she twisted and gyrated, trying to 
shake off the brutal skewering of her flesh, but Mike 
only grinned lasciviously and inserted his massive cock 
farther into her inflamed back passage, drilling 
mercilessly up the virginal channel.

Violent, shattering pain racked Sandra's body and 
choked sobs caught rasping in her throat. She was 
hopelessly caught on his merciless rod. Mike pulled at 
her hips in a relentless, inflexible grip, flexing his 
loins as he inched even deeper into her tightly 
resisting sheath. 

She squirmed desperately, tugging her severed asscheeks 
away from his granite-hard member, but her struggles 
only helped to bury the devastation of the advancing 
cock further into her agonized rectal canal. The stiff 
circumference of her husband's cock stretched the 
tender ring of her ass until it seemed to clutch in 
helpless desperation at the huge pole and suck it even 
deeper into its violated interior.

"Oh Mike, please stop! please stop... I can't stand 
it!" she sobbed piteously.

But Mike only gritted his teeth, and with a final 
savage grunt, ground the full length of his monstrous 
shaft into her tortured passage. He had buried the full 
length of the elongated rod in her soft, brutalized 
flesh!

Mike hesitated for a second, enjoying the tight, 
inflamed throbbing of his wife's sensitively throbbing 
rectum around his deeply imbedded prick. Then he began 
a slow, abrasive pulling out of the extended shaft. His 
withdrawal along the stolen path brought fresh moans of 
new pain from his tormented wife, pulling it out until 
just the swollen bulbous head alone remained engulfed 
by the clinging flesh of her ass. 

Then, closing his eyes in lustful pleasure, he once 
again rammed its merciless bulk into her now forever 
stretched anal channel, feeling the smooth buttery 
cheeks of her whitely rounded buttocks settle 
quiveringly around his hardening balls, as he once more 
sunk every inch of it in her tortured depths. He began 
a slow sawing motion in and out of her, the movement 
becoming easier as her distended rectum relaxed a 
little and allowed his rummaging cock to pursue its 
bestial rape.

Sandra moaned and whimpered as he sodomized her, her 
body lost in a labyrinth of pain. She had never felt so 
totally abased and humiliated in her life. Not even 
Sam, the hired hand's, lustful finger-fucking of her 
naked vagina compared to the ignominy of this horrible 
anal rape by her own husband. She wished that the 
ground would swallow her up, because she didn't think 
she could ever hold her head up again.

Mike continued his illicit fucking, his pile-driving 
pelvis pounding against her upturned backside, his 
leaden penis churning deeper and deeper into the 
softness of her violated interior, slapping his loins 
against her wet buttocks, his mind lost in the 
abandoned perversity of the vicious anal fucking he was 
giving her.

His breath stiffened and he began to gasp in short 
rasping snorts. His cock ached beyond belief and seemed 
to inflate even more as the sperm, boiling in his 
steaming, writhing balls, clamored for release.

The massive rod began to slice faster and faster in and 
out of the wide stretched rectum, and Sandra tried to 
ease the cramped muscles of her buttocks, to lessen if 
she could the excruciating pain. She felt her husband's 
hands clutch even more convulsively into her now 
slightly bruised buttocks, roaming over her hips. His 
pelvic thrusts pounded wildly against her numbed and 
flattened ass cheeks hard against her hip bones as he 
began to shout strange growling sounds, mingled with 
threats and lewd obscenities.

His body stiffened, swivelled only at the hips, his 
toes dug against the floor.

"Hump back, bitch... move your fucking goodie, goodie 
ass..." He shrieked insanely through tightly clenched 
teeth. "Oh God, I'm cumming now, I'm cuummmiiinnnggg in 
your asshole! AAAGGGHHHHHHH!!"

He buffeted against her, a final breathtaking clap of 
flesh against flesh, his lust-stiffened rod knifing 
into unfathomed depths of her agonized rectum. A 
scalding white-hot stream of liquid shot into her hotly 
clenching anus, searing the mercilessly ravaged 
membrane. He jerked against her like a rag doll shook 
by an angry child, her thighs and buttocks crushed by 
the violence of his final assault, as he emptied the 
full measure of his thick burning semen into her 
forever-stretched anal passage.

Then he fell forward, flattening the lovely curves of 
his wife's body under his distended bulk.

She lay there, dry sobs convulsing her as his softening 
penis slid out of her wet, sperm-flooded anus, feeling 
soiled, dirtied forever by her husband's vengeful 
attack on her helpless anus, her bowels gurgling 
slightly from the heated pool of it he had hosed up 
into her.


Chapter 5
=========

Sandra lavishly applied the black eyeliner, rimming her 
clear green eyes heavily. Coupled with the woody brown 
eye shadow she had smoothed onto her eyelids, she had 
achieved a stunning effect, and her eyes had a hazy, 
smoldering look. Several coats of black mascara on her 
long dark lashes completed her eye make-up, and she 
decided to have another cup of coffee before putting on 
her lipstick.

She poured herself a cup from the still-simmering 
coffee pot, and added a liberal dash of brandy. She 
liked the combination, and felt herself beginning to 
relax as she leaned back against her chair, relishing 
the steaming aromatic brew. It was her third such cup 
already this morning, and she was glad that she had 
decided to add brandy, because its tranquilizing effect 
was salve to her troubled soul. 

She knew she was also feeling a little better because 
Mike would be out for the day, supervising the laying 
down of a new electric fence at the boundary of their 
property. The last few days had been hell for Sandra. 
Mike had tried several times to make up with her, 
apologizing for his dreadful behavior, but somehow, 
Sandra felt she had passed the point of no return. She 
felt a shudder of revulsion every time she looked at 
her husband, and the memory of the bestial anal assault 
he had perpetrated on her seared her brain like a 
branding iron, giving no respite to her jumbled 
thoughts of revenge and hate. 

She had retreated into herself since that terrible 
evening, refusing to listen to his feeble explanations, 
her hurt and disgust feeding and strengthening the 
anger that was germinating inside her, a slow, seething 
anger that wouldn't be appeased quickly. This morning 
again, just before he left for the day, Mike had lost 
his temper with her once more.

"All right, have it your way!" he'd yelled, "If you 
want to sulk like a child, go ahead. But don't expect 
me to get down on my hands and knees to you."

"And don't forget, you're not exactly a model wife 
yourself!" he'd hurled at her as he slammed the door. 
His last rebuke had stung most of all. Her husband had 
bit nearer the truth than he'd imagined. Her record 
wasn't exactly spotless, she thought bitterly, 
remembering her unadulterated ecstasy as Sam Maguire 
had fingered her freely in the secret confines of her 
eager vagina. 

A shudder ran through her now as she involuntarily 
relived the scraping, titillating feel of his coarsened 
fingers as they slid up the tight, contracting sheath 
of her cuntal passage, how his hard hand felt as it 
squeezed mercilessly on her breasts, evoking a strange 
sort of pleasure through the unbearable pain. Many 
times during the past week, Sandra had puzzled over her 
mind and body's acquiescence to his lewd handling, 
wondering, in the clear light of following days, how 
she could have let herself give in to him. 

She realized that he had thrown her completely off 
balance by his disclosure that he had watched her 
through the office window as she had made herself 
experience orgasmic release with her own fingers, and 
also the fact that he seemed to be intimately familiar 
with those pornographic pictures had stunned her. But 
she forced herself to admit that in addition, he had 
overpowered her by his self-assurance, and his crude 
masculine way of dominating her. Again she felt a 
tingle chill her spine as she recalled his roughness 
with her, his complete disregard for her expressed 
feelings. 

There was something perversely exciting to her, she 
acknowledged now as she finished her coffee, in the way 
he had treated her, even abused her. There was little 
pinpricks of fire niggling between her legs and she 
realized that she had been grinding her pubic region 
down unconsciously against the upholstery of the chair 
in a lewd rhythmic motion. She stood up, swaying a 
little and had to steady herself against the table. Her 
head felt pleasantly afloat, and her body felt warm and 
light. 

She made her way back to the bedroom, and hurriedly 
applied a vivid splash of lipstick and ran her brush 
through her gleaming hair. She had no clear idea of 
what she was going to do, but the thought foremost in 
her mind was a desire for revenge. She had to retaliate 
on Mike for the unforgivable thing he had done to her! 
There was something else, too, a gnawing aching 
emptiness deep inside her, like a worm eating away at 
her. 

Her body felt restless and taut, and she knew it was 
because she had not made love for several weeks. She 
had become accustomed to regular sexual intercourse 
during the years of her marriage and her body was 
reacting to this neglect. Mike wasn't interested in her 
anymore, that was obvious. But Sam was! There was no 
denying that the farm worker was definitely interested 
in her and her flagging ego in its desperation found 
the thought not unattractive. She suddenly longed for 
masculine attention, a little appreciation of her as a 
woman, even a little flirting!

Almost without realizing it, she wandered out of the 
house and found herself in the yard. The brightness of 
the sun seared her eyes and made her feel a trifle 
dizzy, but she became accustomed to it after a few 
moments and began to feel better. She was wearing a 
light cotton knit dress which she knew was too short 
for her, really, falling as it did to just the top of 
her thighs. The light material stretched tightly across 
her full, unconfined breasts, and she knew that the 
horizontal stripe pattern added to the general 
provocativeness of the dress.

She found, to her mingled dismay and surprise, that she 
was almost desperately looking for Sam, her eyes 
darting back and forth among the scattered 
outbuildings, trying to catch a glimpse of his burly 
figure. He was no where in sight, and feeling a pang of 
disappointment, Sandra began to head back for the 
house. What do I care if I see him or not? I'm not 
interested in a mere farm worker, she told herself, 
walking slowly in the direction of the house.

Then she heard his voice, calling the dog, coming from 
the direction of the barn where the recently calved 
cows were housed. Her heart began to pound in her 
ribcage, and she had to stop herself from running over 
to the shed. What's come over me? she asked herself, 
acting like a lovesick teenager!

She stood in the doorway, and peered around in the dim 
interior.

"Morning, Mrs. Peters!" Sam's gruff voice rang out, and 
the dog suddenly rushed up to her, sniffing excitedly 
at her ankles, his big shaggy tail wagging furiously.

"Down, King, Sam ordered, and the friendly collie crept 
away unhappily, and lay down by Sam's feet.

"Hello, Sam," Sandra replied, her voice stiff and 
unnatural. Her hands felt clammy, and she was sure 
there were beads of perspiration on her face. I 
shouldn't have come here! She fought to control a wave 
of fear which was swelling inside her, the man's 
quietness, the still, dusky interior of the barn, 
frightening her unreasonably.

"That's some dress you're wearing, Ma'am," Sam praised, 
and Sandra found herself flushing.

"T-thank you, Sam," she floundered, not knowing what to 
say.

"Well, what can I do for you this morning?" Sam 
drawled, an arrogant note in his voice. Sandra could 
only see the glowing tip of his cigarette - the rest of 
him was lost in the murkiness of the barn. It irritated 
her that he could see her clearly, silhouetted against 
the doorway, and exasperated, she stepped inside.

She almost stumbled, her feet unaccustomed to the 
deceptive softness of the straw, and she had to put a 
hand out on the rough wall to steady herself.

"Are you all right?" Sam asked, and Sandra froze when 
she realized that his voice was closer, much closer. 
Her eyes were dazzled by the brilliant sunshine and she 
just couldn't see a thing!

"W-where are you?" she asked in a small voice, fear 
suddenly taking hold of her again.

"AAAGGGHHHHHHH!" Sandra screamed as she felt strong 
hard arms around her, clasping her tightly, and then 
tobacco-scented breath hot on her face.

"Stop it! Let me go!" she hissed, struggling 
desperately to escape as her courage to go through with 
her plan faded in her mind.

Then his mouth was on hers, his lips bruising against 
hers in a sweltering unrelenting kiss, his tongue, wet 
and hard pressing against her teeth, forcing entry, 
coupling lewdly with her own mutinous tongue. Sandra 
was fighting for breath as just as suddenly as she had 
begun, she ceased to struggle under the farm worker's 
illicit embrace. 

All fight went from her and as her fear diminished, she 
realized that she was beginning to enjoy being grasped 
roughly in her husband's employee's arms, to enjoy his 
hard grinding kiss on her tender lips. His tongue 
swirled around in her velvety mouth, and he was 
crushing her breasts against his chest, and Sandra 
could feel the hem of her tight dress riding up on her 
hips. 

She gasped as she felt Sam's knee pry apart her thighs, 
and then moaned involuntarily as she felt the bony 
kneecap rub unremittingly against the burning zone of 
her vagina. His crude caress awoke the sparks that had 
kindled in her sensitive pussy earlier that morning and 
she found herself grinding her throbbing warm flesh 
against the hardness of his knee. It seemed to her as 
if the kiss lasted an eternity, and then, abruptly, he 
threw her down on a bed of straw, and Sandra fell 
clumsily, her legs sprawling uncontrollably.

Sam smiled to himself as he stared for a moment at the 
spreadeagled woman. He caught an enticing gleam of 
white panties up between her legs as she fell, and a 
shiver of anticipation coursed through him. His eyes 
were riveted on the expanse of smooth milky thigh which 
be could see clearly, accustomed as he was to the dim 
light, and his prick gave an excited spasm. 

His mouth was on fire from the passion of their kiss, 
and it was all he could do to restrain himself from 
pouncing on her and taking her right then and there. 
But he had other plans for his boss' hot pants little 
wife. He knew right away what was on her mind when he 
had seen her standing in the doorway, barely covered in 
that scrap of a dress, her face painted like some 
street slut. She wants cock, that's what she wants, 
even if she's fightin' it, and ol' Sam is only too 
ready to oblige the boss' wife!

Sandra lay panting on the ground, her dress still 
askew, hardly daring to move. She felt helpless. His 
kiss had overwhelmed her, and although she wanted to 
get up and run from this dreadful place, she just 
couldn't. She quivered as she felt his hands on her 
again, feeling, squeezing, caressing, running down the 
length of her flattened body, sending coarse shivers of 
pleasure rippling through her awakening flesh. 

She sucked in her breath as she felt the roughness of 
his palm on her naked thigh, felt it slither up the 
smooth creamy skin, realized that his fingers were 
tugging at the soft flimsy material of her panties. Her 
head was spinning, the brandy she had gulped down 
taking a loosening carefree effect on her. She found 
her hips arching, to help him ease off the thin nylon 
panties, and in a daze, she felt them sliding down over 
her hips and thighs to her ankles, where they were 
discarded in a useless little heap on the hay.

"Mmmmmmmm..." she sighed as she felt his thick fingers 
graze against the softness of her palpitating pussy 
lips, felt their tips dip against the growing moistness 
of her velvet soft folds. She felt his hot breath as he 
peered down at her, and then he plunged his middle 
finger into the wet, viscous hole of her trembling 
cunt, and she jackknifed against him, her legs shooting 
out on either side, to allow his invading fingers 
deeper and easier access to the mounting furnace of her 
tight hot pussy. 

His fingers groveled around in the slippery channel of 
her cunt, drubbed the hardened knob of her blood-filled 
clitoris, searched and probed among the secret wet 
crevices and creases of her nubile young vagina. Her 
entire body felt aflame, and she was lost in lust, 
oblivious of the fact of how lewdly she was sprawled on 
the straw, how obscenely she spread her legs to allow 
the workman to allow. 

It was what she wanted, the feel of male hands on her 
body, to feel the rising beat in every pore of her 
flesh which signaled the coming of the climax for which 
her love-starved body craved. She didn't really care 
whose hands were manipulating her crotch, whose fingers 
were whirling around inside her buttery-soft cuntal 
sheath. She didn't care what happened! All she wanted 
was the joyous ecstasy of release, and oh God, she was 
going to get it!

Sam smirked down at the twitching, writhing body spread 
out below him. God, the high and mighty little bitch is 
really getting hot, she's really ready for it now! 
Let's see what she thinks of the surprise Uncle Sammy 
has for her...

He withdrew his fingers from the excitedly pulsating 
lips of her pussy and he heard her gasp with 
disappointment.

"Oh please, don't stop now... I'm nearly there..." the 
passion-wracked woman sighed piteously.

Sam gave a laughing leer, and then snapped out: "Here, 
King!"

Sandra, in the throes of her thwarted orgasm, heard 
uncomprehendingly Sam's command, and felt near to tears 
from her so nearly won climax. Oh, if only he hadn't 
stopped...

Then, it started again! Only this time, it was a thick 
wet tongue, warm and curling, that was slavering along 
the quivering folds of her passion-inflated pussy, 
sending eddies of new pleasure drifting through her. 
She felt a momentary stab of horror at the thought of a 
tongue licking so intimately up between her open legs, 
but it was lost in the wave of pleasure which engulfed 
her, and eagerly, she thrust her pelvis upward, 
grinding her bare bottom against the straw, bumping in 
crude tempo with the frantic licking of the demonic 
tongue.

"Oh God Sam, it feels so good, so good she sighed, 
unable to control the spasms of ecstasy convulsing her. 
She had to have more of it, she had to have that tongue 
deeper inside her, had to feel it in every tiny nerve 
end of her excitedly flooding pussy...

Savagely, her hands reached down to force his face 
further and harder down on the burning fulcrum of her 
body...

Instead of Sam's wiry red hair, her hands met with soft 
silky fur, long, satin-haired ears...

"OH GOD NOOOO!" Her scream shattered the silence of the 
barn as it reverberated throughout the high-ceilinged 
shed. Realization dawned, followed by an immediate 
retching nausea, on the lust-demented woman. Too late 
she remembered Sam's command, "Here, King!" Suffocated 
with repulsion, she realized the truth. The dog was 
crouching down between her thighs licking her vagina!

Sam was delighted with the progress of his plan. He 
derived a perverse thrill from watching the golden 
shape crouched between his proud screaming boss' wife's 
legs, watching the shivers of ecstasy which still 
lingered, despite her almost insane revulsion at the 
act being performed on her.

"Attaboy, King!" Sam praised, proud of the trick he had 
taught the willing dog.

"For God's sake, Sam, make him stop... please..." the 
desperate woman wailed, but even as she did so, new 
spasms of unbelievable sensation were twisting her into 
incredible knots of sensual fervor. She couldn't help 
it! It was too late for the revulsion and horror in her 
mind to register with the rebellion in her body. It was 
too late!

"OOOOOhhhhhhhh, keep sucking... keep succckkkiiinngg!!"

Her hands dashed down again and entangled themselves in 
the golden fur on the dog's head, pressing his nose and 
swirling tongue further into the wet, tangled flesh of 
her throbbing pussy. She felt the cold wet nose press 
against the maddened bulb of her clitoris, felt his 
hairy shoulders rub against her sensitive inner thighs. 
The dog was licking her pussy, and she was loving it, 
and she was going to cum!

"AAAAAAZHHHHHHHHHH... Ohmygod, I'm there... I'm... 
cuummmmiiinnnggggg..." Her shrieks rang out, and 
desperately she ground her pussy down against the wet, 
lubricant soaked snout of the laboring animal, her 
thighs closing in his head like a scissors, her 
buttocks mashing uncontrollably against the hay, as 
wave after hot flushing wave of tremendous pleasure 
washed over her, bringing her back again and again to 
the shore of calmness, only to toss her once more in a 
raging sea of her unleashed desire.

Finally, the cumming was over, and the dog slunk away 
from the widespread legs of the exhausted woman, and 
padded over to Sam, who gave him a perfunctory pat on 
his moistened head.

"Good boy, King," Sam beamed, his own prick a hardened 
lump of lust-inflated flesh. His teeth bared in a 
sadistic leer, he headed over to where the dazed woman 
was panting, trying to get her breathing back to 
normal.

"Are you ready for me now, babe?" be rasped, hovering 
over her.

"Get away from me!" Sandra screamed with vitriolic 
suddenness, her hands reaching up for Sam's face. He 
tried to slip to one side, but her nails caught his 
cheek, raking it savagely, leaving four red welts of 
crimson blood in their wake.

"You little bitch!" Sam spat, "Now, I'm really gonna 
teach you a lesson..."

But fear made Sandra agile, and she leaped nimbly to 
her feet, heedless of her discarded shoes and panties, 
forgetting to pull down her dress, and dashed towards 
the doorway, anxious only to escape this lewd monster 
who had subjected her to such a debasing ordeal.

But the farm hand, too, was quick, and before she 
reached the safety of the doorway, she felt his hand 
close viciously over her wrist.

"Oh, leave me alone..." she sobbed helplessly, "let me 
go..." She tried to struggle, but it was useless. Sam 
was much the stronger of the two, and he pinned her 
cruelly against the wall.

"Now, my haughty beauty," he snarled, "you'll have to 
make up to me for this," his hand pointing towards his 
painful scratches.

"Take your filthy hands off me!" she screamed, 
revulsion shuddering through her.

"WAAAGGGHHHHHHH..." she screamed suddenly as she felt 
the full weight of his open palm against her face. 
Tears sprung to her eyes and cascaded down her face, 
stinging her smarting cheek.

"I'm sorry, Sam," she sobbed desperately, "please let 
me go."

"Don't forget it's my turn now! King had his chance," 
he snickered, "now it's mine!"

"Oh please Sam, I couldn't take any more..."

Sam's only answer was to wrench her dress higher still, 
and run his hands down the quivering curve of her hips. 
She trembled under his rough touch and tried to cringe 
against the cold cement of the wall, her soft ovoid 
buttocks squashing against the hard surface. Terrified, 
she heard the whirr of his zipper and then she heard 
Sam grunt.

"Look at what I've got for you, bitch!" he spat, and 
involuntarily, Sandra's eyes dropped. In the semi-
darkness she could just make out the Herculean erection 
of his bulging prick, and she couldn't suppress a gasp.

"Like it, eh?" he snarled, pressing closer, and then, 
Sandra felt the slightly moistened head rub against her 
thigh, hard and rubbery and relentless. Oh God, help 
me... she sobbed inwardly, shrinking helplessly against 
the wall.

She felt his hot breath coating her face and then his 
knee was forcing itself between her clamped-together 
thighs, prying them apart. She tried to hold them 
together, but couldn't. She moaned aloud as she felt 
the hard rubbery head of his bulbous cock jut against 
her quivering vaginal flesh, still moist and tingling 
from her so recent ecstatic release. Lewdly, he teased 
the tip around the fleshy, blood-swollen outer lips, 
nudging her tender membrane unbearably, parting the 
softly curling pubic hair and guiding the monstrous 
erection inexorably towards the small, trembling 
opening to her quaking body.

Sam held his aching prick poised against her sensitive 
little cuntal hole, his eyes bulging at the sight of 
the frightened, shaking woman in his power. He loved 
the feeling of mastery which he had, the knowledge that 
he held in his hand the instrument which would he was 
sure, subjugate her completely to his will. He couldn't 
believe it was really happening at last, that his proud 
mistress was forced to bend to his wish. Now, he'd pay 
her back for her nose-in-the-air attitude, show her 
that he was a man, after all, and not just an automaton 
working on the farm. Yes, he'd show her... and with a 
brutal snarl, he lurched forward.

"AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH! Oh stop it, please stop it, it 
hurts, it hurtttsss..."

Sandra's hips thrashed wildly, trying to dislodge the 
huge, hardened rod of driving male flesh which had 
succeeded in penetrating her, the hard lipped head 
lodged just up inside the softness of her vaginal 
passage. The pain of his sudden, splitting entrance 
blinded her, and her buttocks were sore and raw from 
being forced back against the wall. Desperate, she 
grasped the stocky shoulders of the hired hand and 
tried to force him back, to give her some release from 
the shattering pain, but it was no use. He didn't move, 
just surged forward again.

"UGGGHHHnnnnnnnnn..." Sandra sobbed again under the 
force of another thick inch being sunk up inside her 
tortured cunt. Sam was beside himself with self-
congratulation as he listened to the half impaled wife 
of his boss' desperately pleading cries, and encouraged 
by her pain, continued to press forward into the 
tender, widely stretching walls of her naked pussy.

"NOOOOO!" Sandra wailed again as with a bestial lunge, 
he succeeded in sinking every widely-expanded inch of 
his pounding prick in her wetly clasping glove-like 
interior.

He left his mammoth cock imbedded there for a moment, 
the rubbery head tipping against the soft yielding 
membrane of her cervix, and then began to withdraw it, 
looking gleefully at the tendrils of soft pink skin and 
moistened pubic hairs which clung to the hardened pole. 
Then he viciously rammed forward again, impaling the 
suffering woman as completely as before, feeling the 
contracting interior of her vaginal wall throb softly 
around his palpitating prick.

He began to fuck in and out of her, trying to establish 
a rhythm, each forward thrust lifting the horrified 
girl completely off her feet, crushing her tender ass-
cheeks mercilessly against the rough wall, his balls 
slapping like a wet towel against her moistened inner 
thighs.

Sandra felt mortified beyond imagination. Never had she 
felt so debased in her whole life, not even when her 
husband had assaulted her anally. Yet, she was fully 
aware that she had willingly come here, and had 
submitted to his fingering, being aroused to the point 
where she no longer had the will to fight when the dog 
had started licking her. She had actually reached 
release from the animal's frantic licking! And now, she 
was being fucked, yes, fucked, liked some two-bit 
whore, stood up against the wall, her dress bunched 
lewdly around her hips, while this lowly farm hand, her 
husband's employee, was pumping like a jack hammer into 
her helplessly exposed vagina. God, she couldn't bear 
it!

"Hump back, baby. Put some life into that hot little 
pussy..." Sam panted as he swung his pelvis 
rhythmically, crashing into her like some giant 
pendulum, "move that pussy of yours, you little 
bitch..."

Sandra was repulsed by his crude words. Her body seemed 
to have become immune to his coarse assault, and she no 
longer cared what happened to her. She was lost, lost! 
Mike didn't care what happened to her, and now Sam, 
their own employee, was using her as a receptacle for 
his own debased desire.

As the impassioned workman continued to pound into her, 
Sandra again began to feel the stirrings of change deep 
within her. At first, she couldn't believe it was 
happening, but then, after a while, it was undeniable. 
Needlepoints of lewdly kindled pleasure were beginning 
to pinch her, sending little ripples of delight 
coursing through her. She was beginning to enjoy it! 

Her rational mind was aghast at the lewd rebellion in 
her body, and she tried to quell it, but it was no use. 
Her body was reacting in an age-old way, over which she 
had no control. She was a woman, and her womanly flesh 
was responding to a man's lustfully driving cock inside 
her, the way it had from the beginning of time. Her 
body and consequently her reactions were out of her 
control!

She began to mewl with pleasure through tightly 
clenched teeth, unwilling to let her adversary know of 
his victory, but he had already sensed her submission 
and was jubilant. Her body was more yielding, fighting 
less and less against his intrusion, until finally it 
was swaying in pagan rhythm with his own fucking, her 
hips grinding forward to welcome his massive shaft 
deeply up inside her belly, her softly quivering 
buttocks pressing hard back against the wall, to draw 
out the pleasure of his slow, teasing withdrawals. Oh 
Christ, he thought dazedly, this is better than I 
thought it would be... the bitch really knows how to 
fuck.

Sandra was moaning now with the intensity of her 
desire. Every particle of her body was crying out for 
satiation, and her pores seemed to open in welcome to 
the force of Sam's feverish screwing. Every nerve 
ending was trembling with passion, and the ache in her 
loins grew with each long, clean stroke of the hired 
hand's gigantic prick. 

She felt aroused as she never had before. Mike had 
never been able to awake her to this degree, and she 
had thought that she must forever forget true sexual 
arousal as she felt sure it would be. But this crude, 
rough and ready farm worker, by the very lewdness of 
his actions, had unlocked the key to her responses, and 
was eliciting unknown reactions in her. She was 
desperate for release, yet she hoped the wonderful 
sensations inside her would never cease.

"Mmmmmmmm... Sam, oh it's so nice, sooo nice..." she 
gasped, her hands shooting down and clasping his hips, 
pulling him closer to her. She felt she couldn't have 
enough of him, and her pussy was sucking desperately at 
his cock in an attempt to engulf more and more of his 
delicious penis up inside it.

Sam was perspiring, his short frame hot and cold in 
turn as he fucked wildly into the hungrily squirming 
woman. He knew that he couldn't hold out any longer, 
and he wanted to, because this was definitely the best 
fuck of his life. He wanted to make it last but...

"Oh God woman, grind that ass of yours... I'm... 
going... to... CUUUMMMMM! AHHHHH!"

Sam was gyrating like a whiplash, his pelvis crashing 
and battering Sandra with renewed strength as he felt 
the rumble of his hot boiling sperm deep in the 
darkness of his balls and then he felt the headlong 
rush of the fomenting seed as it gushed along the pipe 
of his bulging prick and rushed out in a frothy 
waterfall into the desperately sucking cavern of 
Sandra's wildly writhing cunt. From the deep daze of 
his cumming, he heard Sandra cry out in an agonized, 
delighted tone.

"UUUUUUMMmmmmmmmmm... I'm cumming! I'm cumming! I'm... 
AAAAGGGHHHHH!" And her body, too, was tossing like a 
gyroscope, a bottle adrift at sea, the only lifeline 
being the relentless pole of Sam's battering prick 
which continued to shoot incredible spurts of creamy 
hotness into her hungrily contracting pussy. 

She continued to moan as the rising tide of her orgasm 
swept over her like a tidal wave and finally engulfed 
her, only it wasn't fearsome as she supposed, only 
sweet and heavenly and gentle, bobbing her along on its 
crest like a complacent gull, and she was riding the 
beautiful white surf, pleased and relaxed in her new 
found proficiency, forgetting the reality of being 
fucked up against the wall, remembering only the 
unbelievable sheets of pleasure which billowed over 
her, bathing her with an ecstasy she had never 
experienced before. 

It was Sam, the hired man, who had initiated her into 
the wonderful realm of sun-drenched pleasure, and as 
she felt his limp, spent penis slip exhausted from her, 
and felt at last the quieting of her own internal 
earthquakes, she slithered down onto the softness of 
the hay, allowing herself, legs still spread wide, to 
drift off into a blissful euphoria, into which Sam, and 
only Sam, had given her a ticket of admission.


Chapter 6
=========

"Yes, I have to admit I belong to the 'Ban DDT' camp," 
Jeff McLean drawled as he sipped the Scotch and soda 
Sandra had fixed for him. He leaned back comfortably in 
the wing chair, and Sandra found herself thinking how 
attractive the veterinarian looked, his handsome face 
boyish under his mop of dark brown hair.

"I admit it has its drawbacks," Sandra replied 
thoughtfully, "but surely its usefulness outweighs any 
disadvantages."

She felt curiously elated, a girlish thrill surging 
through her as she talked with McLean. He had lingered 
in the kitchen after attending to the cows, giving them 
their annual Tuberculosis test, and had accepted with 
alacrity her offer of a drink. She felt like a new 
woman as she talked with him, his comparative urbanity 
infusing her with liveliness, and his intelligent 
conversation starting the wheels of her own brain 
turning slowly.

"Its usefulness!" McLean laughed sardonically, getting 
his drink down. "Do you call polluting the land and sea 
useful? Not only does DDT destroy fish life, it is also 
beginning to poison the phytoplankton in the ocean. Do 
you realize what that means?"

"Not exactly," Sandra had to admit, secretly enjoying 
his indignation.

"It's from phytoplankton that we get almost 50 per cent 
of oxygen replenishment," he explained. "We are on our 
way to suffocating ourselves with that damn DDT!"

Sandra took another sip on her drink.

"But what about the wonders DDT has worked with malaria 
in Ceylon, for example," she suggested, remembering an 
article she had read recently.

"Modern technology is one of the casual factors of the 
world's troubles. The universe is a hard task master 
and only the fittest should survive. Merely keeping 
millions alive so they can live another day with a pain 
in their bellies from hunger is doing them no favor!"

"But almost a billion people have been saved from 
malaria over the last twenty-five years or so," Sandra 
exclaimed. "Should they have been left to die or waste 
away, for the sake of a few fish and water plants?"

"Of course not," McLean answered indignantly, "but a 
little foresight should have been used. Merely spraying 
the Anopheles mosquito isn't the answer; provision in 
the way of family planning, agricultural instruction 
and so on should have been made to take care of the 
extra millions. Instead we are bent on ruining what we 
have!" He finished his drink in a long swallow. "You 
can see that the subject is really one of my beefs!" he 
laughed.

"People should care!" Sandra said carefully. "Living in 
the countryside, we tend to forget the problems of the 
world because we are so insulated and free from them 
all."

"Besides," McLean interrupted, "a beautiful woman like 
you shouldn't have to worry about such things!"

Sandra flushed pink with pleasure under his frank 
compliment. She did look very attractive, she knew, and 
was pleased that the veterinarian had noticed it. She 
felt a rush of gratitude to him for being interested in 
her mind, also, and felt that even her thoughts and 
opinions were beginning to reflect the freedom and 
lucidity she was experiencing through her body. 

Ever since that morning last week, when Sam had taken 
her so harshly in the stable, her life had undergone a 
change. The rough workman had unleashed a torrent of 
sensual desire in her, which could only be dammed by 
his urgent, passionate lovemaking. She had adapted 
herself thoroughly to a new regime of wild, unusual sex 
out in the barn with Sam, tinged always with a sense of 
urgency and illicitness, and she could hardly remember 
what it was like before. 

Her body never seemed to get enough of him, and he 
always succeeded in arousing her to fever pitch, making 
her more frenzied, more demanding, more willing each 
time. Yes, I'm really a new woman now, she mused as she 
rose to fix new drinks. Her hips had a new provocative 
swing to them, she knew and she was aware of the vet's 
eyes on her enticing buttocks. 

She was revitalized by Sam's attentions, his body, his 
hands, and she had begun to take a new interest in 
herself, discarding her country casuals, and wearing 
new slinky type dresses, low cut blouses, curve 
clinging pants outfits. She had even begun to pin her 
hair up occasionally, even though it wasn't really long 
enough, and letting little tendrils fall down 
becomingly over her smooth cheeks. She had someone who 
cared how she looked now, she reasoned, feeling 
younger, more attractive, more wanted than she had for 
years. 

Mike didn't seem to notice the change in her, or if he 
did, he didn't say anything. In fact, he didn't seem to 
say much at all lately, and Sandra had felt pronounced 
relief when he said curtly that he'd be away for a few 
days, buying new stock for the farm. That was two days 
ago, and she had enjoyed hours in her husband's bed of 
unworried abandon in Sam's arms. Already her brow 
darkened at the thought that her husband would be back 
the following day.

But her smile brightened again when she brought the 
drinks in and handed one to McLean.

"You've certainly changed since I saw you last!" Jeff 
smiled, running his eyes admiringly over her pale pink 
silk dress, which she had artlessly left unopened to 
reveal the tops of her translucent ivory breasts. His 
last visit was three months ago, and Sandra remembered 
how dowdy and unhappy she'd been.

"For better, or worse?" she quipped brightly.

"Better, of course, much better!" Jeff laughed, "Mike 
must be really taking care of you!"

Sandra blushed, and to hide her confusion, enjoined, 
"Country air must be good for me!"

"Yep," McLean agreed, "a spell in the country works 
wonders for anyone! People change their views on a lot 
of things after a rural sojourn."

Sandra took a long swallow on her drink, hoping Jeff 
wouldn't notice her discomfiture. Guilt about her 
liaison with the farm worker came so suddenly and 
abruptly to the fore that she was sure he must suspect 
something.

"But you're still a city girl at heart, aren't you, 
Sandra?" McLean said, a new note in his voice. Before 
Sandra realized, he was leaning over her, her forearms 
grabbed tightly in his hands. His breath was warm on 
her face and his mouth was looming closer.

"No, stop!" she gasped, struggling to escape his over-
powering grip.

"Hey, what's the matter? I thought you might like a 
little city loving after all that pastoral stuff!"

Sandra's mind was reeling. What had come over him?

"Let me go, Jeff!" she said, her voice quietly 
authoritative. Anger stirred in McLean's taut body.

"Now wait a minute!" he snapped. "Don't give me any of 
that innocent crap! I know you're hot for me - why not 
admit it!"

Sandra's heart pounded wildly in her chest. She had 
found him attractive, it was true, but that was as far 
as it went... wasn't it?

"Please Jeff..." she began.

"You're not so standoffish with Maguire, are you?" he 
demanded, rage boiling hot inside him.

Sandra gasped, her face crimsoning. Did he know? Could 
he have found out?

"W-what do you... mean?" she whispered, frightened and 
tremulous.

"You know what I mean, honey," he rasped, squeezing her 
tighter, "and you can give me a little of that pussy of 
yours too!"

"H-how dare you?" she stammered, unable to suppress her 
irritation. 

He knew, that was obvious!

"Listen, baby," he snapped, "I get a taste of that hot 
little cunt of yours, or Mike will suddenly find out 
all about your little game with Maguire. What would he 
say to that?"

Sandra shivered at the change in the man's voice. It 
seemed cruder, more ominous. All the polished suavity 
was gone from it, and now it was edged with lust. Mike 
would kill her if he found out! The thought stood 
stolidly in her mind. What can I do?

Suddenly, his mouth bore down on hers, he was pushing 
her down on the couch and kissing her in a hard, 
bruising oral embrace which reddened her lips and 
trapped her breath. Everything vanished from her mind, 
fled from the overwhelming power of his kiss, and her 
arms reached up and encircled his neck while her lips 
strained against his, clinging desperately to them. 

Her nipples stiffened under the thin dress, jutting 
against his chest, and his hands slipped down and ran 
expertly over her back, her hips, her thighs. Her lips 
parted to admit his swirling tongue into her hot 
orifice, and she quivered under the force of the 
passion he was beginning to arouse in her. She felt 
resistance fall away from her body, and she felt a mild 
protest forming in her brain.

"No, this is wrong," she murmured, feebly trying to 
free herself from McLean's unrelenting embrace. "I 
can't let another man do it to me!"

"Come on now, honey," he whispered in her ear, "you're 
a little more generous with Sam... Mike wouldn't like 
you to be stingy with me..."

Mike! He'd tell Mike if she didn't comply... As she 
hesitated, she was aware of his hands fumbling at the 
buttons of her dress, opening them all the way down... 
his hands suddenly on the eager orbs of her throbbing 
breasts... her nipples burgeoning hungrily into his 
palms... Her eyes dropped involuntarily to the growing 
bulge between his legs. She could almost see the 
protuberance of his pulsating organ growing before her 
eyes, and a stab of longing coursed through her. 

Her eyes drank in the sight of his broad, strong 
shoulders, his firm sensual torso, his cruel exciting 
lips... and then dropped again to the fleshy promontory 
between his thighs. Her body began to ache with sudden 
intensity - every nerve ending seemed to tremble with 
suppressed desire. Oh God, it was no use... her body 
was too strong for her... she wanted this man... she 
wanted this strong, virile male, just like he wanted 
her!

Jeff sensed her acquiescence, his half-closed eyes 
mesmerized by the enticing sight of her half naked 
body, its shimmering whiteness like fine marble against 
the Giorgone-like sheen of her silk dress. His prick 
was pulsating fervently against his leg, branding his 
flesh with its hot passion. He exulted in his victory 
over her, her obvious desire for him. 

Sam's right, he mused, she's a hot little bitch! He had 
been skeptical when Sam, barely suppressing his 
excitement, had blurted out to him the details of his 
incredible affair with the young farm wife. He had 
imagined that it might be wishful thinking on his part, 
but Sandra had seemed to be upset by his references to 
the farm worker, and now, she was mewling with excited 
desire! 

A change certainly had come over her, he thought, 
remembering the uncooperative disinterested wife he'd 
first met six months ago, and on his subsequent visit 
three months later, her shabby, gone-to-seed 
appearance. Nevertheless, he'd been interested in what 
lay beneath that dowdy exterior, but of course, had 
never dreamed of finding out, not until today, of 
course! And now, he certainly was going to find out...

Sandra sighed as she felt his mouth close over the 
crest of one trembling upright breast, his soft firm 
lips enveloping the tender throbbing flesh of her 
turgid nipple. She became vibrantly alive under his 
touch, excited and aroused as she felt the nearness of 
his heated masculine body. She could feel the bloated 
strength of his still-encased penis as it pulsed 
against her thigh and her loins began a tentative 
churning in time to the internal palpitations that were 
caressing her desire-ridden flesh. 

His mouth was trailing down her body, licking and 
kissing her warm, pliant flesh, glorying in her naked 
offering to him. His eyes fell lustily over the dark 
ebony fleece of her slightly raised pubic mound, and he 
felt an impatient tremor spasm through him. Christ, 
this is going to be good... he murmured passionately, 
his hand fiddling with the fly of his pants.

Sam gripped the edge of the window sill, his eyes 
bulging, his nostrils dilated with anger. He had to 
stifle a bellow of rage as he stared in disbelief at 
what was transpiring in the Peters' livingroom.

Sandra's eyes jumped to the huge, fleshy rod of the 
veterinarian's cock as he eased it out of the confines 
of his pants. The excitedly hardened head gleamed a 
bluish-purple and the lengthy red base seemed to pulse 
with hot, angry blood. She felt a quiver of 
anticipatory fear mingled with masochistic pleasure as 
she continued to stare mesmerized at the lewd 
instrument, which McLean was obscenely encouraging to 
even greater proportions with crude caresses of his 
powerful hands. Unconsciously, she spread her legs a 
little wider, arching her pussy up in a primitive 
invitation to his waiting cock.

Christ, the fucking little bitch really wants it, Sam 
thought viciously, his own prick throbbing inside his 
workpants as he pressed against the outside wall, his 
face riveted to the glass of the sitting room window.

Jeff's gaze was riveted on the entrancing sight of 
Sandra's flexed pussy mound, barely concealing an 
enticing gleam of moist pink flesh between the swollen 
fleshy outer vaginal lips. He could see the red, lust-
angered knob of her clitoris nestling beneath the crown 
of darkly resilient curls, and a faint pulsing drew his 
hypnotized gaze to the small, clasping little hole of 
her cuntal mouth.

"Oh, Christ, Sandra," he rasped hoarsely, "I'm going to 
fuck you now..."

Sandra's blood quickened on hearing his lewd, lust-
inflamed words, and her own yearning magnified on 
realizing the extent of his animalistic passion.

She felt him settle between the insides of her 
widespread, welcoming thighs, felt the nudge of his 
rubbery hard pole against her sensitive inner skin, 
felt the first jarring contact of his rigid, 
impermeable shaft against the delicate folds of her 
waiting cunt.

McLean slowly guided the solid rod of flesh towards the 
small, star-shaped cuntal mouth, and poised it there 
for a moment, the knobby distended head pressing 
lightly against the fragile membrane. Then he rammed 
forward with all his might, and sunk his petrified 
weapon with a single lurch in the depths of the 
flabbergasted woman.

"Oh no, it's too big... it hurts!" Sandra sobbed, 
feeling her interior vaginal wall stretch with painful 
intensity from the huge mass of granite hard flesh 
imbedded inside her.

Sam stared dumbfounded at the spectacle of the skewered 
woman, his eyes welded on the sunken shaft barely 
protruding from Sandra's ovally stretched vaginal hole.

McLean continued to plow forward, his massive prick 
tunneling effortlessly through her widening channel 
until the huge head came to rest at the mouth of her 
cervix. His hands dipped down and grasped the fleshy 
spheres of her satiny buttocks, reveling in their 
resilient softness, and then pulled her crotch even 
further down on his sunken cock, swiveling her pelvis 
around on his hardened shaft, grazing the sensitive 
entrance to her womb against his rock hard penis. 
Sandra drew in her breath at the novel sensation, dizzy 
from the new feelings soaring through her, and then her 
busy interior muscles began to contract and squeeze on 
the entrapped masculinity within her, wringing gasps of 
unexpected pleasure from McLean.

He began to fuck in and out of her, with long, 
practiced strokes, sinking his driving prick to the 
hilt in her willing cavern, withdrawing it almost 
entirely out of her now warmly contracting pussy, 
matching thrust for thrust as they bucked and slapped 
against each other, their dark curling pubic hairs 
brushing together and entwining. Sandra's hair flung 
out around her face as she tossed her head from side to 
side, and tiny mewls of ecstatic pleasure forced 
themselves from between her grinding teeth. 

McLean was arousing new sensations in her and her body 
was responding with a hedonistic answer of its own. It 
was heavenly, writhing about in pagan delight under the 
passion-demented body of a man - a man who was depraved 
with desire for her! The idea that she had aroused him 
to such a fever pitch thrilled her. Her body had 
incensed him like this, enflamed him with 
uncontrollable lust. Her flesh tingled with the wanton 
abandon of it all, being fucked, and fucking back, for 
all she was worth. Gone were any lingering thoughts of 
husband, of Sam... her body was the master now, its 
desire her only duty to satisfy.

Outside the window, Sam felt that he was going to 
explode, so intense was the crackling ache in his balls 
and the urgent call in his cock. His anger had faded to 
excitement as he continued to watch his mistress going 
crazy from the fucking the veterinarian, McLean, was 
giving her. The lewd sight excited him unnaturally; his 
fury with McLean for tricking him giving way to 
jealousy as he observed the other man's pumping body, 
his ecstatic look of pleasure that coated his face, the 
willing, responsive body of Sandra beneath him. It was 
all too much for him... he couldn't take it any more...

Sandra was riding the waves of an indescribable joy. 
Her body was completely in tune with McLean's; they 
were as one, sliding and twisting and rocking together 
on the star-studded way to the acme of their desires. 
Her body was reaching, striving to achieve the 
unrebukable climax which was building up in her, and 
which wouldn't be long in coming.

From the back of her mind, Sandra heard a sound which 
turned her blood to ice. The door was opening, and 
someone was coming into the room!

Terror flooded through her, paralyzing her responses 
momentarily, and the icy fingers of fear clutched 
grotesquely at her heart. Turning her head slightly, 
she could just see through a chink in the tangle of her 
and Jeff's bodies, the lower torso of a naked man!

Her eyes widened at the sight of the huge, obese penis 
which jutted out obscenely from its base, and there was 
something slightly familiar about it. The stranger was 
standing stock still, and Sandra blinked her eyes, 
wondering for a moment, if it wasn't all just a lewd 
mirage.

When she focused again, she had to bite back a blood-
curdling scream. The torso was coming, coming, towards 
her, the elongated shaft bobbing obscenely. Nightmarish 
terror threatened to send her hurling into 
unconsciousness.

Then she felt herself being turned over, to the side, 
McLean's arms still grasping her tightly, his tireless 
cock still slicing ceaselessly in and out. Oh, God, she 
sobbed silently, what is happening. Who is it?

The pounding of bare feet came nearer, and then a 
coarse, lust-crazed voice rang out, "For Christ's sake, 
McLean, wait for me!"

It was Sam! Her throat was arid and she wanted to jump 
up and flee from this ultimate degradation but she was 
a prisoner of her own body, still responding heedlessly 
to McLean's insistent hammering. Agonized, she felt the 
trim smooth ovals of her buttocks being spread apart, 
heard Sam's excited gasp as the dark little ring of her 
anus came into view, and then she sobbed aloud as she 
felt the hard, stubby head of his dancing prick come 
into direct contact with the tight little hole. What 
was he going to do to her? her mind pleaded in silence, 
suddenly terrified by the confrontation with her lover.

The sight of Sandra's round firm buttocks jerking 
backward enticingly under McLean's frontal thrusts 
egged Sam on to a new plateau of desire, and with an 
excited grunt, he pressed his thick forefinger against 
the crinkled little sphincter, worming it into the 
tightly resisting little passage until he had intruded 
as far as the first knuckle.

"Nnnggghhhhhh..." Sandra groaned as she felt the 
maddening pain begin in her back passage, and she began 
to struggle wildly, twisting her ass around in wild 
staccato attempts to dislodge his firmly imbedded 
finger. Her feverish flailing seemed to incite McLean 
to boiling point, as he continued to fuck heedlessly 
into her ravished vagina.

"That's it... move that ass..." he groaned, seemingly 
oblivious to the farm hand's entrance.

Sam rotated his finger around inside the tight little 
rectum, sinking it deeper inside her, until he suddenly 
pulled it out abruptly with a loud plop! which gave 
Sandra a momentary feeling of relief.

But it was short-lived, as she felt again the hard, 
excruciating pressure of Sam's rock-hard prick head 
against the cringing little anal mouth, and as he 
continued to jab and pressure the tiny hole, paralyzing 
realization of what was going to happen washed over her 
with tumultuous force.

"Oh God, please don't, Sam..." she shrieked at the same 
time as he lunged forward in a snarling, brutal surge, 
and forced the vainly resisting muscle to yield under 
his greater strength.

"AAAAARRRGGHHHHH! No! No! Please stop!" she sobbed as 
she felt the splitting pain of his brutal anal entry.

"PLEASE STOP, SAM... PLEEASSSSE!" she continued to wail 
as he began to inch forward, forcing open the tender 
internal membrane with his merciless onslaught.

"Oh God, it hurts! It hurts too much!" the demented 
woman implored her lover, but to no avail. By dint of 
pure strength, Sam managed to slide forward until the 
full length of his lust-driven cock was imbedded in her 
back passage. Her whole backside was a sheet of raw 
fiery pain which pushed unmercifully up the length of 
her spinal column, culminating in a shattering pain in 
her brain, which was actually the force of the 
knowledge of the utter degradation the two men were 
subjecting her to. She was like helpless chattel 
between the two of them, a mindless being existing only 
for their pleasure, as they double fucked her, one in 
front and one in back and filled the air with their 
animalistic groans of pleasure.

Sam began to screw slowly in and out of her throbbing 
rectum, and she shamefully remembered the similar 
assault by her husband, which had been fading into a 
bitter memory, and was now recalled with new venom. 
Then, slowly but surely, the soft rubbery walls of her 
back passage were beginning to widen, thus mercifully 
lessening the incredible pain. 

When the agonizing pain had finally cleared, Sandra was 
sorry it did, because it revealed something which added 
more shame and humiliation to her debased ego. She was 
beginning to enjoy it, enjoy the lewd anal screwing her 
lover was giving her while McLean continued to fuck her 
in front. No! No! her mind screamed as she lay 
sandwiched between the two sweating male bodies, trying 
to will the rising tide of pleasure to ebb. But she 
failed.

"Oooohhhhhhhhh..." a low pitched wail of animal-like 
pleasure rang out... she couldn't resist the primordial 
call of her body any longer. SHE LIKED IT. She liked 
being buffeted like a scrap of paper in the wind, 
mercilessly battered between the two heaving bodies. 
Masochistic ripples of pleasure eddied along her spine 
as she began to revel in her complete subjugation to 
the two men. 

She began to glory in the power they had over her, not 
only physical power but their potency which invoked 
such responsive delight in her. They were like wild 
stallions, luring her, the domestic mare, out to the 
bitter-sweet freedom of the plains, and she had 
responded, throwing aside the security of suppressed 
sensual excitement for the excruciating sweet agony of 
a completely freed libido.

"Mmmmmmmmm... oooohhh it's good..." she moaned, arching 
her back and flaring her buttocks to receive Sam's 
jack-hammer thrusts in back and then flicking forward 
to welcome Jeff's pile-driver shaft in front.

"Oooohhh that's it... hurt me! Fuck me harder!" her 
voice rang out, raucous in its obscenities, and Sandra 
could hardly recognize it as her own. She was in 
another world, piloted there by the unbelievable spasms 
of pleasure she was receiving in her dual passages, as 
the two hard, plunging pricks dove in unison and 
surfaced as one, leaving her breathless with 
excitement. It was incredible, being fucked like this 
by two men at once... far far better than anything she 
had ever experienced before. She wanted it to go on 
forever!

But her body had climbed to the topmost peak of sensual 
ecstasy, and there was nothing left for her but to 
tumble down.

Her piercing wail rent the air, and then her body was 
spasming uncontrollably, slippery as an eel between the 
sandwich of human flesh.

"AAAAARRRRRRRNNNNnnnnnngggggg... I'm cumming! Oh God, 
do it harder! Harder! I'm THERE!"

The two men were driven by the whiplash of her lust-
hoarsened voice and they pounded against her, their 
driven cocks tormented beyond belief by the dynamic 
contractions of her pussy and rectum, until they, too, 
could hold out no longer.

Their deep masculine voices sounded out, distorted with 
passion, as the floodgates of their lust were loosened, 
and the torrents of their bubbling white liquid 
scorched from the vats of their testicles along the 
pipes of their plunging pricks and poured with 
spasmodic ejaculations into the writhing, squirming 
twin passages, where they commingled in an effervescent 
pool of frothy male sperm in Sandra's womb. 

They continued to flood her insides, their reservoir of 
semen apparently never-ending, until finally, their 
exhausted cocks finally acknowledged defeat, and began 
to slip like spent worms from her widely dilated 
passages. Gurgling with pleasure, Sandra slipped to the 
floor, her body floating on a sea of happiness, 
shielded on both sides by her two lovers.


Chapter 7
=========

Sandra was applying nail-polish to her long tapering 
nails, when she heard Mike's car pull into the 
driveway. She gave a little start, surprised at his 
early homecoming. She hadn't really been expecting him 
until the morning, and already her mind had been 
wandering ahead to the long evening of pleasure she 
would experience with Sam. 

Her body still tingled from the incredible fucking she 
had received from Sam and the veterinarian 
simultaneously, just the previous evening, and the wild 
three-way act had honed the edge of her sexual appetite 
to such a pitch that she thought Sam would never finish 
with his chores, and come to her. Damn him, why did he 
have to come home early? she complained silently, 
putting aside her cosmetics and heading for the 
kitchen. 

Still, maybe Mike... It was weeks since Mike had made 
love to her, and she felt a sudden, urgent longing to 
feel his body near hers again, experience him through 
the body of the new woman she had become. Her face 
brightened as her husband hurried into the kitchen.

"Hello, Sandra," he called, "any coffee ready?" Sandra 
looked at him uneasily. He was slumping tiredly in a 
chair, his eyes roaming aimlessly around the room. He 
didn't even seem to see her!

She handed him a steaming cup, and without even 
acknowledging it, he picked up the Vet's report which 
was lying on the table.

"That's one good thing anyway!" he muttered, his eyes 
roaming over the report.

"What's that?" Sandra asked, puzzled.

"The Vet's report - the cows all passed the TB test - 
or did you ever bother to read it?" There was an 
ominous coldness in his voice which made Sandra shiver.

Draining his coffee cup, he rose and headed for the 
door.

"W-would you care for some dinner? I've got..."

"Later!" he interrupted, "I'd better check on things in 
the dairy!" 

And before Sandra had a chance to reply, he was gone.

Sandra stood stock-still. She didn't really know what 
kind of greeting she had expected from her husband, but 
she certainly hadn't anticipated his coldness, 
indifference. He didn't care what she was thinking or 
what she felt about his return. He just didn't care! 
Fear clutched relentlessly at Sandra's pulsing heart. 
Was she in danger of losing Mike? Was her marriage 
actually dissolving in front of her? Numbly, she tried 
to reassure herself. She knew in her heart that the 
intoxication of her new found sensual freedom was a 
paltry return for the security she had taken for 
granted, and which was in imminent danger of toppling! 
Did Mike suspect what she had been up to? Anxiety 
gnawed at her viscera like a dog at a bone. She sunk 
down into a chair, her lovely young body shaking with 
convulsive tremors, as she fought a rising wave of 
panic.

The minutes ticked by, but Sandra's uneasiness had not 
abated. She felt worse than ever, with only herself to 
blame. For the first time, she began to realize the 
seriousness of her actions, and to wonder about their 
consequences. In the back of her mind, she had assumed 
that Mike would not find out. She also believed that 
nothing that she did would make him turn against her! 
Had she been wrong? Was Mike sick and tired of her, her 
bitchy, demanding ways, her lack of consideration for 
him? But I love him, I still do! her mind protested. 
She had to tell him, tell him now, ask for his 
forgiveness, get his reassurance that everything was 
all right. At the back of her mind was the paralyzing 
fear that Sam, unable to restrain himself, would brag 
about his conquest...

She knew Mike didn't like her to disturb him at work in 
the sheds, but she couldn't wait until he came back. It 
might be too late...

Sandra ran lightly across the yard, and headed straight 
for the dairy, relieved to find a light there. She let 
herself quietly in by the back way, anxious not to 
disturb him, and stealthily made her way towards the 
far end where the machinery was. She could hear muffled 
voices, and silently prayed that Mike wouldn't be angry 
at her for disturbing him.

Suddenly, Sandra froze, her blood running cold. She had 
to stifle a scream as her husband's voice wafted across 
to her.

"Oooohhh Eve darling, I've missed you so much..."

God what were they doing? She had to find out...

Her blood racing, she slipped inside the next to last 
stall, and peering between the slats of the wood 
partition, her eyes darted restlessly, trying to find 
her husband.

Then she saw him!

Her eyes bulged as they focused on a blurred tangle of 
naked arms and legs. Mike, her husband and Eve were 
sprawled, stark nude, on several sacks of animal feed, 
their bodies locked together in a tight, passionate 
embrace.

Sandra felt a blood-curdling scream rise in her throat 
and she had to cram her knuckles into her mouth to 
suppress it, as she saw the young blonde, Eve's, strong 
white hands wrapped tightly around Mike's neck, and as 
she glimpsed her husband's hungry wet tongue slipping 
into the shapely blonde's receptive mouth. Their 
twisting, writhing bodies lay only a few feet from 
Sandra's horrified gaze, and she could see that Eve's 
large gray eyes were beginning to dilate and an 
unmistakable smoky haze of passion drifted across them 
as Mike slowly caressed her ripe golden body.

Sandra watched, paralyzed with shock. Every nuance on 
their faces was distinct to her view; she stood there 
breathless, unable to turn her eyes away from the lewd 
display of flesh and passion.

She watched as Mike's mouth tore away from the 
glistening fullness of Eve's lips and began to trail 
hot, wet kisses down her vibrant swan-like neck, 
sucking ardently at the tender flesh, leaving a path of 
raw, red little patches in his wake. The blonde's hands 
were digging desperately into his shoulders and from 
her gaping, half-open mouth, it was obvious that she 
was already deeply entangled in passionate sensual 
excitement.

Sandra was hypnotized by the sight of the eager couple 
wallowing in unabashed lust. Her heart felt crushed by 
the evidence of her husband's infidelity, but still, 
she couldn't tear herself away from the incredible 
spectacle. She wanted to run in and separate the 
adulterous couple, yet she was immobilized by the 
scene. She had never in her life seen anything so 
mesmerizing, so compelling. It was strangely, 
perversely exciting, and every nerve, every sense in 
her body seemed sharpened to extraordinary intensity.

Sandra watched, her eyes bulging, as Eve, her blonde 
hair flowing like a sheath of golden hay, stretch free 
of the tangle of arms and legs and slowly spread her 
perfectly sculptured thighs, revealing the honey-
colored muff of her pubic triangle. Her arms hung 
languidly by her sides and her firm full breasts rose 
up and down with her frenzied breathing. Sandra could 
see the nipples spring to attention, the dark pink buds 
jutting up erectly from the crinkled brown aureoles.

She gasped, stung with unbearable jealousy, as Mike 
squeezed the ripe flesh as he kissed first one and then 
the other buttery globe. He rolled the thickening 
nipples between his thumb and forefinger, wringing 
little mewls of pleasure from Eve. Then he raised his 
head and Sandra could see the livid pink stretch of his 
tongue darting out as it flicked down the smooth soft 
plane of her lithe body, stopping to poke at the tight, 
deeply imbedded little navel, licking it lovingly, as 
his hand continued to massage the smooth plane of her 
belly.

Sandra's dimming eyes were riveted on the tall tanned 
body of her husband as it hovered over the prostrate 
girl, and her eyes dropped to the huge, fleshy 
protuberance of his cock as it dangled out obscenely 
from the blonde pubic thatch. It prodded lewdly at 
Eve's parted thighs, and Sandra could see the girl's 
hips churning in unmistakable invitation.

"Oh darling, please fuck me now... I want to feel your 
beautiful hard cock inside me..." Eve's passion 
distorted voice pleaded. Her fingernails were digging 
into his muscular back, and Sandra winced at the girl's 
lascivious desire.

Sandra had never seen Mike so aroused, so lust-crazed 
as he was as he hovered over the pleading girl. A new 
wave of jealously swept over her - she had never been 
able to arouse him to that extent!

Suddenly, he leaned forward and grasped Eve's quivering 
legs and lifted them high up, till they dangled over 
his shoulders. He looked down at the lewd spectacle of 
her naked open vagina, lust gleaming in his eyes, and 
Sandra herself could see the moist, pink furrow 
throbbing with excitement. She could see the eager 
clasping hole of her vagina, opening and closing, 
trying to suck in something to fill her desperate void. 
The outer lips were swollen with passion and the red 
bulbous tip of her clitoris quivered and pulsed through 
the soft blond pubic fuzz.

Mike grasped his long, thick penis in his hand and 
guided it towards the enticing pink split, running the 
thick burgeoning head deftly along the moistened 
crevice, lubricating it in Eve's already flowing 
vaginal juices, while she mewled piteously.

"Ob please Mike, do it to me now... please do it to me 
now!"

Her lewd words seemed to galvanize Mike into action, 
and he suddenly rammed forward and with an explosive 
groan, thrust the hard bulbous head into the tiny, 
hair-fringed hole between her legs.

"AAAAhhhhhhmmmmmmm..." Eve sighed, and Sandra felt the 
first stirrings of anger on hearing the girl's sibilant 
moans of pleasure. Her lewd fascination with the 
incredible scene had suppressed any anger she might 
have felt, but now a slow burning resentment was 
seething inside the bewildered wife. 

It's just like I thought, she fumed inwardly, he was 
interested in that little slut right from the 
beginning! Her own deviance from the marital path was 
forgotten as rage simmered inside her as she watched 
her husband in his joyful rendezvous with the young 
blonde milkmaid. No wonder he wasn't interested in me, 
she bridled, and to think I was rushing out to 
apologize to him, the lousy cheating bastard...

She watched, rage boiling like a furnace within her, as 
Mike continued to plow forward, sinking his elongated 
shaft all the way into Eve's upraised pelvis.

"Ahhhhnnnngggghhhhh!" she moaned as Mike's desire 
hardened cock reached the back of her womb, and his 
hairy pendulous balls slammed hard against the soft 
silky cushions of her upturned buttocks.

Sandra craned her neck, eager suddenly not to miss a 
second of her husband's frenzied fucking of another 
woman.

Her rage was receding again, and jealousy was once more 
taking its place... envy, and a vicarious sort of 
excitement. There was something hypnotic about her 
husband's smooth, long strokes and his short, sharp 
strokes which evoked a responsive rhythm in her own 
loins. Her initial state of shock was wearing off, and 
she felt horribly rejected, she was left out of the 
paradise which the two lovers were enjoying, and she 
was overcome by a feeling of loneliness and rejection. 
The obscene magnetism of the violently fucking couple - 
her husband and, his mistress - was drawing her into 
its lewd spell, and she wanted to run and leave the 
scene of adultery, but she couldn't.

She was caught in the web of the lurid act transpiring 
a few feet away, and she had to wait to the end, had to 
see all of this incredible copulation between her 
husband and the young girl.

Suddenly, she froze in her bending forward position, 
her heart thumping with terror. Someone was behind her! 
She wanted to turn around, discover the intruder, even 
scream, but she couldn't! She couldn't let Mike know 
that she'd seen him, that she'd been spying on him! Her 
flesh crawled as she felt hands behind her, strong, 
calloused hands on her thighs, easing up her short 
flared skirt, caressing her naked skin. The hands were 
tugging on her flimsy white panties, peeling them down 
over her full rounded hips... the fingers were probing 
at her now nakedly exposed vagina... OH GOD, SHE 
COULDN'T STAND IT! She had to turn, stop whoever it 
was.

"Ssshhh, it's only me..."

It was Sam! Relief flooded through the terrified wife. 
But what was he doing? Sandra wanted to ask him, wanted 
him to go away, let her witness alone her husband's 
infidelity.

"Aaaaahhhhhhhh..." Sandra was unable to stop herself 
moaning as she felt the searing, unexpected contact of 
Sam's mouth on her naked pussy! He had ducked under her 
skirt, and his face was buried between her thighs!

Oh God, Sandra thought desperately, what's happening? 
She had to stop him, stop his disgusting assault on her 
genitals, had to pull away.

"Oh Mike, you know how to fuck me... your cock feels so 
great in me... Mmmmmmm..."

Sandra's attention was once more crudely arrested by 
her rival's lust-enflamed sighs, and she felt her skin 
tingle from the girl's obscene words. Her eyes flew to 
the bucking, writhing bodies as they slapped wetly 
against each other, coated with perspiration.

Dimly, she realized that she was yielding to Sam's 
pressure on her thighs, easing them apart. In the daze 
of her confusion, she could hear him rasping:

"I'm gonna lick your pussy, suck it and bite that 
little clit of yours... make you cum that way while you 
watch your husband fuck that li'l blonde..." His lewd 
incantation sent excited shivers coursing through her. 
Did he think she would allow him to touch her there, 
where he had ordered the dog to? Her mind shrank again 
from the memory of the oral licking she had received 
from Sam's dog, and how she had enjoyed it...

"No, Sam, no..." she whispered feebly, terrified Mike 
would hear. But her pleas were lost in the slavering 
sound of his tongue as it swept and lapped against her 
trembling cuntal split, brushed electrically against 
the hard button of her clitoris, prodded the soft 
velvety folds of her pussy. Against her will, Sandra 
felt the excitement, arousal, enjoyment, building 
inside her. She couldn't help it... the hired man's 
tongue felt good against her quivering cunt... 

His wet mouth continued to stroke the full length of 
the moistened pink furrow, his taut voracious tongue 
inching its way deeper and deeper into her eager young 
pussy. Prickly shoots of pleasure stabbed up into 
Sandra's belly, radiating a vivid halo of sexual 
excitement from her glowing womb as his crude, direct 
sensuality seemed to snap her whole being into lustful 
attention.

She had to bite her lips to suppress the sighs of 
intense pleasure which were trying to force them into 
sound, and she gripped the wooden top of the stall, as 
she felt his tongue dip and tease the hot, fiery 
opening to her cuntal passage.

Oh God, what's wrong with me, her mind questioned 
suddenly as her eyes focused again on the wild pagan 
bucking of the grunting couple in front of her. Their 
lewd scene had become part of her own blazing, 
uncontrollable lust, and her own obscene witnessing of 
her husband's adultery was as arousing as the burning, 
tingling touch of the man's tongue beneath her skirt. 
She had transversed an unfathomable boundary in the 
short time since she had worried and fretted alone in 
the kitchen when her husband had hurried out. 

The last half-hour was a real milestone in her life, 
and she knew that she could not retrace her steps 
across that boundary. She was watching her husband 
fucking another woman while her own cunt was being 
sucked by the hired man, and her mode of life till 
then, was a thing of the past. She knew, as she 
continued to gaze raptly at the panting, jerking 
figures of her husband and his mistress, that all her 
concepts on what life was all about were 
disintegrating... life as she knew it was 
disintegrating! The future was indescribable, but she 
had charted her own course, and she knew she would 
follow it, for better or worse...

Involuntarily, Sandra found her thighs closing in 
around Sam's head, trapping his sweating face in the 
heat of her hungrily dripping pussy, his fiery red hair 
tickling her throbbing cuntal flesh. His tongue was 
like a dynamo, washing and slashing and slavering, 
teasing the throbbing knob of her clitoris, sucking the 
tendrils of her inner pussy lips, plunging stiffly into 
the burning hot orifice of her vaginal sheath. Her hot 
steaming cunt walls enveloped his intruding organ as it 
plunged, contracting, twitching, the engorged lips 
glistening from the dribbles of her secretions.

Sam dug his rough fingers into her madly thrashing ass-
cheeks, his tongue working like a jackhammer, probing, 
searching, driving into the soft luscious folds, 
possessed of a mind of its own.

Mindless, uncontrolled lust shook Sandra and her upper 
body was pressed hard and roughly against the wall of 
the stall, and she ground her pelvis down on his 
imprisoned face. His tongue and lips and hands became a 
feverish stampede of lustful, frantic action, licking, 
biting, sucking as he groveled greedily in her 
desperately writhing cunt, all striving in unison to 
uncap the earth-shaking eruption from her passion 
tormented body. Her hands tangled in his hair, smashing 
his blood-flushed face into the boiling cauldron of her 
pussy. Sandra's mind was a wandering panorama of 
obscene pictures, in the forefront of which was the 
image of her husband and his mistress welded together 
in a carnal union of breathtaking passion.

Sandra's glazed eyes swung over to the steaming, 
twisting couple. They were careening into a flailing 
collision of lust-driven fury... now accelerating... 
now finally far beyond any human control as their 
passion finally crested...

They were cumming!

Their lewd, hoarse shrieks of release were shatteringly 
near, and then began to fade, as Sandra's brain slipped 
at last utterly away. She was dissolved in a screaming 
rocket of head-long desire as shudder after shudder 
convulsed her. She felt the power of her approaching 
climax building, expanding deep within her womb.

And then, a tremendous hot flash drove through her.

"Unnnnnggghhh..." she grunted out loud, her mind 
dissolving in the intense radiation of pure lust. She 
bucked forward, her pelvis engulfing Sam's exhausted, 
moist face. Another blinding wave of heat exploded 
within her, traveling with gathering speed up the 
thrashing length of her spine.

Her head fell back, her mouth hung open.

"OH MY GOD! SAM! SAM!" she shrieked mindlessly, as 
another wave struck, and another, until the mounting 
shockwaves seemed to gather into a continuous 
thunderclap, converging on her lewdly tumbling body. 
She opened her mouth again, screaming wildly, oblivious 
of everything but the insatiable monster of her lust.

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming! AAARRRGGGhhhhhhhh..."

Her screams seemed to go on forever, echoing throughout 
the huge building, rising and falling, dying and rising 
from the embers of her hoarseness again like a phoenix, 
the full throated release of her passion buoyantly 
hurling her about in the momentum of her orgasm like a 
matchstick bobbing in the wind of a hurricane.

Blissful peacefulness was beginning to descend on her, 
wiping everything away but the glowing aftermath of her 
unbelievable release.

Reality intruded with crude brutality as fingers dug 
into her shoulder.

"Mmm, oh please don't..." she murmured, her eyes 
fluttering open.

Mike was standing over her, still stark naked!

Her eyes widened in terror, her voice tried to call 
out, but no sound came.

"You bitch!" he spat, "You fucking little adulterous 
slut!"


Chapter 8
=========

Sandra wished the ground would open up and swallow her. 
Shame and mortification flooded through her, crimsoning 
her downcast face. She was paralyzed with fear, too 
terrorized even to pull her skirt down over her still 
lewdly splayed thighs. She was painfully, desperately 
aware of her husband standing over her, his eyes 
traveling over the naked plane of her vagina, over her 
white nylon panties so casually discarded, over Sam's 
cowering, abject figure.

Unable to stand it any longer, Sandra hid her face in 
her hands, and started to sob helplessly, her body 
shaking with the force of her weeping. This was the end 
of everything! Mike had discovered her with Sam, spying 
on him. Sam would tell him everything, about the dog, 
about the veterinarian, McLean... Fresh sobs convulsed 
her as she thought of his rage, his fury. He'd kill 
her!

There was an ominous silence, broken only by her 
stifled sobs. Why doesn't Mike say something, do 
something? her mind wondered, anything to make this 
terrible moment pass. It seemed an eternity since he 
had called her those names. Now at least, anger, abuse 
would be natural! This silence wasn't.

"Well, Maguire, what are you waiting for?" Mike's 
voice, cold and toneless with rage and hatred rang out. 
"You're not going to stop now, are you?"

New terror gripped the frightened wife. What did Mike 
mean?

"I... uh... I..." Sam mumbled, his face beet red.

"Get on with it!" Mike snapped, and Sandra recoiled 
from the edge in his voice.

"W-with what?" Sam mumbled dully.

"You can't leave the little lady lying there waiting, 
can you?" Mike sneered, a sarcastic pitch sharpening 
his voice.

A new flood of embarrassment washed over Sandra. Oh 
God, what punishment was he planning for her?

"No," Sam answered fatuously, his eyes turning to 
Sandra's sprawled figure.

"Okay then, let's see what it is that she can't do 
without!" Mike jeered.

Sandra couldn't help herself.

"No Mike, please..."

"Shut up, you little whore!" he snapped, his eyes 
blazing.

Sandra cringed back against the wall, trying to stand 
up straight, but only succeeding in falling against the 
bales of straw in the corner.

"What do I have to do?" Sam asked, relieved to find 
Peters' anger directed towards his wife.

"I'll tell you what to do!" Mike snarled, "but first 
let me get the little lady, sorry, the whore, ready!"

Sandra cowered piteously as Mike approached her, and 
shielded her face with her arm. He grabbed her roughly 
by the shoulder, and pulled her to her feet. With one 
swift pull, he tore away her skirt, leaving her hips 
and thighs stark naked. And with a further exertion, he 
ripped the buttons of her blouse, tearing it from her 
shoulders. Last of all, he snatched away her blouse, 
leaving her totally naked.

"Oh God, please don't..." she sobbed, trying to cling 
to her husband's arm, trying to elicit some warmth in 
him. His only response was to fling her roughly onto 
the hay covered floor, where she fell in a disorderly 
heap, skinning her elbow against the stall, her body 
bruised from the unyielding surface. She wanted to cry, 
but couldn't. She could only lie there, a victim of her 
husband's mounting fury.

"Eve!" he called imperiously, "come and watch the 
show!" Sandra was aware of the young blonde milkmaid, 
slinking out of a corner where she had taken refuge. 
She was still naked and she looked very young and 
frightened, and she flattened herself against the wall, 
terrified of what was going on.

"All right, we can begin the show," Mike sneered, "and 
by Christ, the leading lady had better give a good 
performance!"

Sandra lay prostrate on the floor, unable to feel 
anything, conscious only of a desire for the whole 
perverted thing to be over with.

"Okay, Maguire, we're waiting for you! Get ready!"

Sam numbly began to undress, lifelessly discarding his 
clothes, until he, too, was stark naked, his prick 
banging semi-erect, jutting out half-heartedly from a 
tuft of reddish hair.

"Now let's think of a name for our show." Mike 
continued to jeer, "What about 'Wife turned Whore', or 
let me see. What about 'What Happens to a Cheating 
Wife'."

There was silence all around.

Unperturbed, Mike snapped, "There's your cue, Maguire! 
You're on stage!"

Sandra stared at her husband in disbelief. Was he 
really expecting them to go through with this travesty? 
Had he gone insane?

Incredulously, Sandra saw Sam shuffling towards her. He 
couldn't, he wouldn't touch her in front of Mike!

"Okay, Maguire," Mike's voice rang out again, "spread 
the lady's legs wide, real wide!"

Sandra shrank back down into the hay as Sam ambled 
nearer, and then she had to stifle a scream as his 
hands rested on her ankles.

"No! No!" she screamed, trying to keep her legs 
together. But he was too strong for her, and slowly, he 
forced her thighs apart, revealing the deep pink cleft 
of her trembling pussy. Shame crept like a smothering 
blanket over her as she felt the evening air rush in on 
her moist pussy. Oh God, I wish I were dead, her mind 
sobbed.

"Well, well, look at that!" Mike jeered, his voice 
dripping with scorn. "A nice juicy cunt, all wet and 
ready! You did a good job earlier, Maguire. Let's hope 
you can keep up the good work!"

Sandra wanted to put her hand down to cover her 
nakedness, but she was afraid of what Mike might do! 
She knew it would be fatal to cross him now, the mood 
he was in.

"Now, bitch," her husband spat, "it's your turn! Take 
that nice big cock that you're so fond of, and make it 
nice and hard, 'cause you don't want a limp prick in 
that cunt of yours, now do you?" Sandra felt a retch of 
nausea cramp her stomach. She couldn't believe that 
this was the man she had married, her husband!

"I'm waiting, slut!" he snapped, edging closer.

Sandra's heart thudded painfully. She was afraid to 
appeal to him again. That only seemed to incense him. 
But she couldn't, she just couldn't do as he said! But 
she had no choice. She trembled at the thought of what 
he would do to her if she refused. He'd kill her! Mike 
edged even closer, and Sandra made up her mind. She had 
to comply! There was no way out!

Her hand was shaking as she reached up and tentatively 
slipped her fingers around Sam's awakening prick. The 
lewd words seemed to have an exciting effect on the 
workman, and his member was already bobbing out, 
cleaving the air like a snake, the surface glistening 
with the blood of passion. Sandra could feel it 
throbbing under her touch, and she sensed that it was 
growing in dimension as she held it.

"Put more life into it!" her husband commanded, his 
voice perilously near, and Sandra began to move her 
fingers slightly, hoping to satisfy his demand.

"Tickle his balls, bitch!" Mike ordered, his voice 
shrill, "tickle your lover's balls!"

Numbed with mortification and fear, Sandra obediently 
cupped Sam's hairy pendulous balls in her palm and 
massaged them gently, feeling the roiling of his sperm 
as they gathered in the darkness of his testicles. Her 
body ached from soreness and the hard floor, and she 
thought she'd pass out before much longer. Faintly, she 
hoped for a miracle, that her husband would grow tired 
of his game.

"Now, we're ready for the big one! Now, leading lady, 
look at what your lover has got for you!"

Sandra forced herself to open her eyes, and they 
dropped to the bulging red protuberance a scant foot 
away. It was huge and thick and long-much bigger than 
she'd ever seen it!

"Is it big enough for you? Is it? Is it?" Mike 
shrieked, his face reddening in his excitement and 
fury.

"Yes, it is..." Sandra mumbled wearily, sinking back 
against the floor. If only it was all over...

"Kneel down in front of your mistress, Maguire!" Mike's 
thickened voice rang out again, and the wretched hired 
man, torn between fear and mounting desire, obediently 
settled himself between Sandra's quivering legs.

"Now slut, this is what you've been waiting for! Take 
hold of his prick and lead it towards that starving 
little pussy of yours!"

Sandra blanched when she heard her husband's latest 
demands. It was too much - she had suffered enough. She 
couldn't do it, couldn't degrade herself further, and 
in front of Eve, too... Oh, God, what was she to do?

"You heard what I said!" Mike's voice was livid with 
rage. It was no use! She had to do it...

Fighting back her tears, Sandra reached down once more 
and grasped the rock-hard cock in her hand, and slowly, 
began to guide it towards the tiny cringing hole of her 
pussy. She rested the hard, bulbous head against the 
delicate petal-shaped opening, her breath quickening in 
fear.

"All right, Maguire, get ready. I'll tell you when to 
go!"

All feeling left Sandra. She was suffering the ultimate 
degradation. 

And she didn't care. She was beyond any normal emotion. 
Her body was left to take the punishment, while her 
mind sought refuge in numbness.

"Get ready, get set!" Mike's voice, quivering with 
excitement, called out. "One, two, three... GOOO!"

Sam sprang forward on his boss' order, oblivious to 
everything but his rising passion and his desire to 
appease his employer. He surged forward with brutal 
strength, crashing through the soft, unresisting 
barrier of her outer cunt lips, slicing through the 
tender vaginal sheath like a knife through melted 
butter.

"WAAARRRGGGHHHHHHHH..." she sobbed helplessly, her hips 
thrashing wildly to escape the skewering pain.

"Oh please stop, it hurts... it hurts meee..."

Her screams were drowned out by Mike's hysterical 
laughter.

"That's it, Maguire! Give the bitch a good fucking!"

Sam's grossly inflated penis was like a cast-iron 
cudgel splitting her insides, sending shooting pains 
ricocheting through her. The hard, smooth head rubbed 
irritatingly against the delicate flesh of her cervix, 
and she felt that the fragile membrane at the entrance 
to her body would tear from the unnatural stretching. 
At last, he began to withdraw his lust hardened cock, 
grating the inner sheath with its veinous underside, 
sending painful shudders rippling through Sandra's 
body. The pain obliterated any other feeling, and 
dominated her whole being.

"OOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhhhhh..." she wailed again as Sam drove 
forward with even greater force, raising her pelvis a 
few inches from the ground as he bore into her with 
flesh-splitting strength. He began to establish an 
arduous rhythm, forcing her strained vaginal passage to 
give a little as he began to plow into her.

"Fuck back, you little whore!" Mike screamed, his eyes 
dancing with lewd perverted excitement. His eyes were 
riveted on the enormous shaft as it plunged in and out 
of his wife's aching pussy, and he was enjoying the 
spectacle of her debasing pain. His own cock was 
standing out like a flagpole, goaded into erection by 
the incredible luridness of the act he had instigated.

He was mesmerized by the straining whiteness of his 
wife's subjugated body, by the palpitating milkiness of 
her breasts, the trembling strength of her thighs.

Sandra was relieved when the pain finally subsided and 
Sam's actions took on a regular rhythm. Her body 
responded in kind, recognizing the familiar action, and 
she felt some of her degrading feelings easing. It 
would soon be over...

She couldn't believe it when she felt the first tingle 
of excitement - a familiar pinprick of pleasure deep 
inside her.

She wanted to quell it, stamp it out, but knew she 
couldn't. Her body was responding as it did on the 
other occasions when she had been debased and 
humiliated... it was responding to a man's penis inside 
it, and nothing else!

"Ooooohhhhhhh..." she sighed involuntarily as her hips 
almost unconsciously took on a deep sensual churning, a 
passionate grind of its own, a direct answer to Sam's 
insistent demands. Flushes of heat were rising up her 
body, blushing her face, making her mewl with 
excitement, causing little beads of perspiration to 
break out on her upper lip. Her hips began to grind 
upward as Sam plunged downward, and then pressed back 
against the softness of the hay as he began to 
withdraw, her interior vaginal sinews milking his 
blood-filled prick with tight, possessive little 
contractions.

Mike ran an excited tongue over his dry lips when he 
noticed his wife's excitement, her acquiescence to 
Sam's pile-driving cock. She was enjoying the fucking 
her lover was giving her, right in front of him, her 
own husband! The lewd thought excited him even more. 
His eyes were glued on the increasing tempo of the 
fucking pair, darting here and there to catch a glimpse 
of a bobbing breast, a dipping cock, fleshy cunt lips! 

He had forgotten completely about Eve, cringing still 
in the dark corner, fearful to show herself. He had 
forgotten everything but the presence of his wife and 
her lover who were becoming oblivious to him, and the 
mounting pressure in his own balls as they sent urgent 
messages to his throbbing prick.

Suddenly, he couldn't take it any longer. His cruel, 
sadistic trick had backfired - he had engendered an 
excitement in the two which was getting the better of 
him also... he no longer wished to be just a 
director...

Sandra was carried away in the wind of her own 
undeniable excitement. She was being fucked by their 
hired man again, who had elicited so many wonderful 
responses in her before, who had initiated her into 
incredible realms of ecstasy, and this time was no 
exception. 

She had momentarily forgotten about her husband's 
initial part in the act, and was aware only of Sam's 
body buffeting against her, his thick, lust-hardened 
prick slamming into her pelvis, his hard rough hands 
kneading the flesh of her hips. Then, suddenly, the 
rhythm which was carrying her along on the road to 
climax was shattered. A hand was grappling with her 
hair, making her squirm with excruciating pain. Her 
eyes flew open... and she saw a cock, a long, red, 
throbbing cock a scant inch away from her face!

Her eyes riveted on the burgeoning instrument, jutting 
out proudly from a forest of blond curls... it was 
Mike!

"Open your mouth!" he commanded, his voice laden with 
depraved passion. She continued to stare, mesmerized by 
the lewd instrument, until it leaped forward and 
slipped past her lips in a swift abrupt movement. 
Surprised, she found the fleshy hardness of it in her 
mouth... a strangely agreeable sensation! Timorously, 
her tongue began to swipe the rod of flesh in her 
mouth, tasting for the first time the masculine 
piquancy of her husband's prick. Shivers of strange 
pleasure rippled her skin. 

She began to suck gently on the palpitating organ, 
caressing it with her lips, nibbling at it with her 
teeth. Her tongue darted into the tiny slit at the top, 
stretching it mischievously, and then slipped down to 
coat the heavy webbed underside with saliva. She was 
beginning to like sucking her husband's cock... while 
her lover fucked her!

Her hand reached up and cupped the squirming sac of his 
scrotum, kneading the fermenting balls, cradling them 
in her warm palm. Mike's hands tightened in her hair, 
forcing her mouth further down on his throbbing prick, 
till the smooth spongy head was pressing against her 
larynx, making her cough slightly from the unaccustomed 
contact.

Mike was driven to frenzy by his wife's hungry sucking 
on his cock. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her 
full ovalled lips circling his rock-hard member, and 
his hands released their frenetic grip on her hair and 
dropped to knead savagely at the smooth orbs of her 
breasts.

Sam continued to pump furiously into the gyrating 
woman, feeling her body jackknifing against him with 
each demonic stroke of his blood-hard prick. His hands 
were like eagle's claws on her hips, and his body was 
straining every muscle taut as whipcord as he pounded 
mercilessly into her.

Sandra was a fiery furnace of excitement and passion. 
She had never felt like this before. She loved being 
fucked by Sam while she was sucking her own husband's 
cock... loved the feeling of Mike's prick plunging far 
back into her throat while Sam's rod plundered her 
pussy. She was being buffeted by two men, fucked by 
both at once, and she reveled in the lewd three-way 
act.

She began to suck furiously as she sensed her husband's 
imminent release. She could feel his body tense, and 
then she felt the rumble of his white-hot sperm along 
the tube of his cock, before it spurted in a boiling 
stream of frothy white nectar into the sanctuary of her 
throat. She swallowed and gulped as it continued to 
flow in a thick jet down her burning gullet, and her 
cheeks hollowed and filled as she strove to keep up 
with the never-ending shower, her lips tightly 
convoluted around the pumping cock, so as not to lose a 
precious drop of it.

"Keep sucking... keep suckingggg..." Mike to drain 
every last drop into his wife's eager gulping throat.

Sam stiffened like a bowstring just then, and his 
hoarse guttural cries sounded out as he began to batter 
against her like a bulldozer, his heavy pelvis slamming 
cruelly against her upraised crotch, squirting jet 
after jet of hot white semen into her hungrily churning 
belly in a constant river of his pent-up passion.

A feeling of disappointment flickered through her as 
her husband's penis, at last spent and limp, slipped 
from her mouth, but just then, her own release was 
triggered by Sam's frantic pounding into her, and she 
felt herself lifted up in the arms of a giant 
whirlwind, and spun round and round, until she was 
flying by herself in a never-never land of complete 
euphoria.

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" she chanted, 
her body tossing and gyrating like a spinning top, 
flailing about under Sam's deep hard thrusts into her.

Shriek after shriek flew past her sperm glistening lips 
as she was caught in the throes of spasm after 
delicious spasm of indescribable delight, each of which 
carried her far beyond the wildest bounds of what she 
had experienced before.

At last, she was still, her body still twitching a 
little, as her nerve endings surrendered the last 
vestiges of their pleasure, and she lay back on the 
softness of the sweet smelling hay, beside the panting 
body of her husband and the satiated grunting figure of 
her lover.


Chapter 9
=========

Sandra's feelings of complete satiation was marred only 
by a nagging feeling of animosity... towards Mike. Even 
though things had turned out all right in the end, she 
couldn't rid herself of the desire for revenge. She 
couldn't forget how penitent she'd been when he had 
first come home, how she'd followed him out to the 
dairy, expressly for apologizing, how she'd discovered 
him making love to Eve, and worst of all, how he'd 
forced her and Sam into the debasing debacle. 

She knew she'd always hold a grudge against him until 
she'd laid that ghost to rest. Her body was aching with 
a pleasant sort of weariness, and groggily she 
staggered to her feet, peering around in the semi-
darkness. Both Sam and Mike were still half-sprawled on 
the floor, and Sandra could just make out the whiteness 
of Eve's body as she stood in the corner against the 
wall. The thought that her husband's mistress had 
witnessed her degradation added to her indignation, and 
a plan was forming in her lust-depraved mind. Yes, I'll 
pay that bastard back... making her way over to where 
Eve was standing silently.

***

Mike was afraid to look at Sandra. Afraid, and ashamed, 
too. His anger had gotten the better of him, and had 
faded with his arousal; now he felt nothing but regret. 
He knew he'd gone too far when he'd forced his own 
hired hand and his wife to perform in front of him. 
He'd no right to do it, he knew now, especially when he 
himself had just been fucking Eve. Who was he to throw 
stones? For all he knew, catching him and Eve in the 
act might have set the ball rolling for his wife and 
Maguire. I shouldn't have been so hasty...

Apprehensively, he watched Sandra get up. Where was she 
going, he puzzled, and then drew in his breath sharply 
when he saw her heading over to where Eve was still 
cringing against the wall.

What was she going to do to the girl? he wondered, 
tempted to call out and warn Eve. His wife was probably 
angry enough for anything, maybe even for attacking the 
girl!

"Sandy..." he called softly, but she didn't seem to 
hear. Afraid, Mike got to his feet, and hurried over to 
where the two women were standing.

Sandra was looking intently at Eve, taking in every 
inch of her soft golden curves, feeling a stab of 
jealousy on seeing the girl's youthful perfection.

There was a look of abject fear on her face, and her 
pale hair, seen in the dim light, made her look 
ghostly, a sad apparition.

"Please, it's not my fault!" she whimpered, suddenly 
terrified of her employer's wife who was standing 
beside her. With relief, Eve saw Mike coming towards 
them. He'd protect her, save her from that madwoman...

"Sandra, leave Eve out of this! Mike said 
authoritatively, and Sandra threw him a haughty glance.

"No fear!" she scoffed, throwing her head back, "I'm 
going to find out just what it is you've been so 
interested in!"

Sandra reached out her hand and rested it on the girl's 
shoulder, and then began to caress the soft flesh, 
dropping lower still until her hand was covering one of 
Eve's soft round breasts.

"Sandra, for God's sake..." Mike broke in.

"Mmmm, not bad..." Sandra noted, her hand moving to cup 
the other full white orb in her hand. Eve's brown 
berry-like nipples leaped into erection at Sandra's 
touch and jutted out provocatively against her palm. 
Now Sandra was embracing the astonished girl, gathering 
her in her arms, pulling her toward her breasts, and 
then, Sandra lowered her mouth onto the girl's 
quivering lips, and planted them with soft, passionate 
kisses. 

Sandra could hear Mike's sharp intake of breath and 
felt a thrill of pleasure when she realized that her 
plan was working. I'll make him sorry yet... she 
promised, as she continued to shower hot little kisses 
on the surprised girl's lips, neck, throat. Sandra was 
actually surprised by how pleasant it was to hold the 
other woman in her arms, and was glad that she was so 
pretty and soft and appealing. She realized she felt a 
sort of sympathy for the girl, a mild desire to comfort 
her for what she had to go through.

Mike stared dumbfounded at the two women, their arms 
entwined around each other. He couldn't believe it. He 
had been sure they were going to come to blows, instead 
they were lovingly caressing and kissing each other. 
Eve had suddenly come to life under his wife's 
attentions and was reciprocating with passionate leech-
like kisses. 

Her mouth was closing in on one of Sandra's pink little 
nipples, enclosing the hard little knob between her 
full ripe lips, sucking on it deliriously. Sandra was 
emitting little moans of pleasure as she clung to the 
blonde, and Mike had to rub his eyes to make sure he 
wasn't seeing things. Sam, too, had joined him, his 
mouth agape at the incredible sight.

"Well, I'll be hornswoggled..." he murmured, his eyes 
widening as he watched his mistress and the dairymaid 
melting together in passionate embrace. He looked 
awkwardly at his boss, wondering what to say, but Mike 
was looking away embarrassedly, ashamed to look his 
employee in the eye. So they both turned their 
attention back to the girls...

They had slipped to the floor, golden body fused 
against creamy white one, and the two men watched in 
disbelief as Sandra began to slide along the ground, 
trailing kisses down the length of Eve's body, coming 
to rest on the golden triangle between her long slim 
legs.

Sandra poised above the yellow thatch of pubic curls 
for a moment, and then dipped still lower, and slowly 
drew apart the girl's buttery thighs. Her eyes gazed 
raptly at the enticing pink slit which appeared before 
her, crowned by a golden fleece. She could see the thin 
hair-feather outer lips throb slightly and placing a 
thumb and forefinger on each soft, tender flange, 
gently drew apart the fleshy folds, revealing the moist 
pink glory of her delicious young pussy. 

The tiny pink tip of her clitoris peeped out from 
beneath the flaxen curls, and just below it, the small 
rosebud-like opening of her vagina glistened wetly. 
Sandra had never seen a woman so close before. It was 
all new and strange to her, yet she was driven by she 
didn't know what instinct. She had forgotten her 
initial desire for revenge; she was enraptured by the 
sculptured wonder of the girl's soft, yielding body, 
and she was borne along by an inclination which was 
getting more clamorous as minutes ticked by.

Slowly, she lowered her face towards the golden 
gateway, and drawing out her tongue, ran it along the 
full length of the narrow pink aperture.

She felt the young girl draw back from the strange 
sensation, but she continued to touch the girl's tender 
young flesh with her tongue, tentatively licking and 
swiping with her own sensitive organ. Her long slim 
fingers were pressing against the tender flesh of the 
girl's smooth thighs, and she began to grow more 
familiar with the other woman's perfumed young cunt, 
sweeping her tongue in long, caressing strokes along 
its velvety folds, dipping and probing and drawing out 
the ambrosia of her femininity. 

She enclosed the turgid little button of her clitoris 
in her mouth, fastening it between her teeth, and 
titillating it with her tongue, making Eve squirm and 
moan with ecstatic pleasure. Sandra's tongue searched 
and explored the secret creases and indentations of 
Eve's pussy, sending chills of pleasure rippling up and 
down her spine, making her grind the golden peak of her 
body down on the other woman's feverishly licking 
mouth. She was beginning to mewl incessantly, her whole 
frame wracked with tiny spasms of pleasure.

Mike just couldn't believe it. The two women were 
twisting around on the floor like fish out of water, 
and Eve was moaning and sighing under his wife's oral 
love-making. He could feel his own prick beginning to 
rise again, a new, piercing ache throbbing through it. 
He was overcome with desire for his wife, and for his 
mistress, and experienced an acute agony which stemmed 
from the knowledge that he was excluded. They didn't 
need him... they were sensually aroused without him...

He continued to watch astonished as Eve suddenly began 
to swivel around, until her head was reaching down for 
Sandra's loins. Sandra, realizing what was happening, 
languidly spread her thighs, and Mike gasped as he saw 
Eve lower her pale oval face between the creamy columns 
of his wife's legs. Eve was going to suck his wife's 
pussy!

Sandra moaned into Eve's steaming crotch as she felt 
the first touch of the girl's cool tongue on her 
burning vaginal lips. It felt so soft, so soothing and 
she sighed, stretching out her legs as Eve continued to 
tease her twirling little tongue along the length of 
her hot pussy, soaking up her free-flowing juices, 
nibbling the little bud of her rigid clitoris, jabbing 
experimentally at the clasping hole of her cunt.

Sandra never knew that kissing and licking a woman's 
pussy, and being kissed and sucked by a woman in 
return, could be so exciting, and yet so relaxing. 
Safe, somehow. She felt instinctively that the girl 
wasn't going to do her any harm, and she, in turn, 
wished to give Eve pleasure, nice, soothing pleasure.

Their bodies were fused together, dark hair against 
soft blonde pubic curls, blonde head against soft dark 
pubic curls, the gold and the white blending in a 
delicious sinewy streak of smoothly naked feminine 
flesh. They licked and sucked and slavered in each 
other's pussies, oblivious of the hard breathing, and 
unabashed gaping of the two men, completely nonplussed 
in their sudden, unexpected exclusion.

The tempo of the rhythmic churning increased, and the 
bobbing heads became more frantic in their movements, 
and then the men saw that the two bodies became as taut 
as plumb-lines, before collapsing in a series of head-
to-toe spasms, which culminated in muffled sighs and 
moans, drowned in the steaming softness of the two 
twitching cunts.

Sandra felt her body rise and fall like a feather 
floating in a gentle breeze, as Eve's tongue whipped 
her into achieving a climax unlike any she had before. 
She could feel Eve's cuntal walls contract tightly 
around her nose and mouth, almost smothering her, and 
tugging painfully on her slashing tongue, before 
ejecting a warm mist of softly-scented moisture which 
bathed her face and signaled the girl's simultaneous 
climax. The mistress and wife clung tremulously to each 
other, their mutual embraces helping to still the last 
quivering vestiges of their orgasms.

Sandra felt as if she were floating on Cloud Nine. 
Everything was working out. She had got her revenge on 
Mike, while at the same time discovering a new 
dimension in sensual excitement which she hadn't 
suspected existed. Her latest experience had acted as a 
salve for her preceding ordeal, its gentle feminine 
satiation the perfect counterpart for the animalistic 
satisfaction of the other.

But her peaceful reverie was brought abruptly to an end 
as she felt hands once more curving around her 
buttocks.

"W-wha..." was all she managed to stammer, before she 
found herself being pulled up on all fours. The hands 
were kneading the soft pliant flesh of her bottom, 
caressing and pummeling it in turns. She winced as she 
felt the unmistakable burning shaft of an engorged 
penis prodding at her, the hard, mushrooming head 
probing obscenely at the tender folds of her pussy half 
concealed by the flesh of her thighs.

Casting around in the semi-darkness, she could make out 
Sam standing near her, his huge, sturdy penis held 
aloft in his hand like some barbaric weapon, his eyes 
glinting eerily in the half-light. It was Mike then, 
who was positioning himself behind her!

A weird shudder ran through her at the thought that it 
was her husband who was prodding her with his giant 
weapon, her husband who was poising the rock-hard head 
of his prick at the quivering entrance to her still 
tingling vagina. He's going to take me from behind, her 
mind realized, and then...

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH..." she called out, unable to stop 
the shriek from sounding as she felt the first nudging 
of his pounding cock as it insinuated itself inside her 
hotly trembling cuntal sheath.

"NNNnnnngggghhhhhhhh..." she continued to moan, as it 
plowed inexorably on its way, separating the yielding 
membrane of her vaginal passage as it advanced into her 
depths. With a smack, she felt the dangling weight of 
his balls slap against the flattened arcs of her 
backside, and then felt the niggling tickle of the hard 
round head as it probed the sensitive zone of her womb. 
Her husband's hands dug into the soft fleshy cheeks of 
her ass, and pulled them even further back, skewering 
her even more on his pistoning rod, making her knees 
rise up from the ground, burying every single inch of 
his weapon in his wife's heated interior.

He held her there in position for a moment, flexing his 
prick slightly inside, feeling her internal muscle 
throb in joyful answer, before slipping out again, 
almost all the way, until just the glossy hardness of 
the bulbous head was still imbedded in her tight 
passage. Then he rammed forward once more, shaking her 
body violently with the force of his entry, making her 
breasts jiggle as they hung down from the whiteness of 
their moorings.

"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh... mmmmmm... it's good..." she began 
to sigh as he commenced to screw in and out of her with 
long, hard, smooth experienced strokes. He was amazed 
at the expert, new response in his wife's body, and 
tried not to think of who had been her teacher, just 
willed himself to enjoy the incredible pleasure that 
she had to give.

Sandra continued to screw her backside back on her 
husband's oncoming pole of hardened flesh, feeling the 
spheres of her ass flaring around the wiry tangle of 
his pubic thatch, feeling the hardness of his pelvis as 
she swung back against him. For the first time, she was 
enjoying, really enjoying, fucking and being fucked by 
her husband, relishing his masculine body more than she 
had ever done.

Through half-closed eyes, she saw Sam suddenly pounce 
on the still prostrate body of Eve, and roughly spread 
her legs wide. Sandra felt a sympathetic wince as she 
noticed the girl's eyes open wide in initial alarm at 
the size of the huge male cock prodding at the 
quivering flesh of her tiny pink vaginal slit. 

Sam's eyes were bulging with obscene pleasure as he 
gazed down at the supine body beneath him, not being 
able to believe that she was lying unprotesting under 
him. He held his huge palpitating cock there between 
the splayed thighs for a moment, and then with a 
bestial grunt, charged forward, and sunk it right to 
the hilt, in one savage movement, in the astonished 
young girl's pussy.

"UUURRRGGGHHHHhhhhhhhhh..." she gasped from the 
harshness of the farm worker's entrance into her soft 
body. He hesitated just a moment before withdrawing it 
again almost completely, and immediately he began to 
fuck in and out of her with fast, hungry strokes. 
Impatiently, he grasped the girl's slender ankles, and 
forced each one back up over his shoulder, revealing 
the whole naked plane of her trembling little cunt, 
unprotected before his onslaught.

Sandra, enjoying the easy rhythm of her husband's 
thrusts into her from behind, leaned forward, eager to 
soothe the troubled girl, whose face wore a distinct 
look of pain as she bore the savage rapidity of the 
workman's instrokes. She began to kiss the agonized 
girl, finding her young lips warm and tender against 
hers, slipping her tongue past the guardian teeth, 
encouraging Eve's dormant tongue into a lewd ecstatic 
dance of joy, whipping up a froth of frenzy as they 
lashed and swirled and fenced with each other. Her 
hands reached down and clasped a golden sphere in each, 
titillating the enticing little buds into erect little 
knobs which jutted up erectly from the crinkled brown 
aureoles.

Sandra continued to kiss and caress her husband's 
mistress, while her own lover screwed brutally into 
her, and while she herself was being fucked canine-
fashion by her own husband!

Sandra was thrilled by the lewd implications of the 
wild four-way act she was involved in. This was even 
more incredible than she'd ever imagined... she had 
certainly run the gamut of sexual experiences today. 
Already her mind was jumping ahead to even more 
exciting adventures, more perverse, more lurid... more 
pleasurable.

But right now, her body was afire with unbelievable 
flames of passion. Her husband's pelvic thrusts grew 
more and more frantic and her own churning was more 
frenetic as her wet asscheeks slapped against her 
husband's pelvis and his hot pounding prick tore into 
her with the energy of an electric drill. And the soft 
touch of Eve's lips under hers and the delicious feel 
of her breasts in her hands added a hundredfold to her 
pleasure, as all four raced each other in a wild free-
for-all for the biggest prize of all.

And Sandra herself won! She was the first to cum, and 
her body twisted and jerked out of control, throwing 
her into the hands of an earth-shattering climax which 
shook her like a volcano, sending molten lava flying 
over her flesh, electrifying her into new, incredible 
spasms of wild, passionate pleasure.

"OH GOD... I'm there..." she sobbed out, as she tossed 
and writhed like a captured snake, desperately trying 
to milk her husband of his life-giving nectar for which 
her tortured sheath cried out. And she succeeded.

"Oh Christ Sandy, fuck back... fuck back, because 
I'm... I'm... AAAGGGHHHHHHH..." And he was battering 
against her like a mad bull, his huge enraged prick 
ejaculating with the strength of a fire extinguisher, 
scalding her raw passage with jets of hot fluid which 
shot far up into her voraciously accepting womb. Her 
thirsting passage greedily drank in all of the warm 
offering, begging for more, trying to squeeze every 
last drop from his exhausted prick. From the back of 
her mind, she was aware of Eve and Sam cumming 
simultaneously, their cries hoarse and untamed as they 
slapped and pounded against each other in a mutual 
demand for release.

All four collapsed together in a wanton, abandoned 
heap, arms and legs all akimbo. Sandra was utterly 
exhausted, feeling certain she would never again have 
the strength to make love again, but Sam and Eve and 
her husband all united and proved how wrong she was, 
right into the early hours of the morning, when finally 
Sandra dropped off into a satiated trance, her mouth 
curved into a Mona Lisa smile. "Mmmmm, what a day this 
has been..."


Chapter 10
==========

Sandra absently shuffled the application forms around 
the crowded desk, pushing aside the big leather bound 
Farm Accounts book. Yesterday had been a hectic day for 
her, and she was glad to be taking it easy today. Five 
interviews she had conducted, starting early in the 
morning. Their farm was expanding so they needed 
another farm worker, and Sandra was in charge of 
selecting an applicant. Not that she minded that job. 
It was all part of the new arrangement she and Mike had 
come to about the running of the farm, several months 
ago. 

It seemed like years ago now since that day, which was 
a turning point in her life, when she and her husband 
and the two hired workers had entwined in an incredible 
foursome in the dairy. But that day had been the start 
of a whole new way of life for her, and for Mike, too, 
Sandra thought, feeling a little twinge of jealousy as 
she remembered Sheila, the new redhead who had taken 
Eve's place. Although part of the agreement they had 
reached was that her husband could have a free hand 
with the new student, Sandra couldn't help feeling a 
stab of envy at times.

Still, she was well compensated for having to share her 
husband with another woman.

Yes, she thought, stretching her long sinuous legs out 
under the desk, I've nothing to complain about! Mike 
had agreed to her continuing her relationship with Sam, 
but she found that he alone couldn't satisfy her 
completely and she found herself looking further afield 
for satiation. And of course, her neighbors were only 
too glad to oblige. 

The veterinarian's visit was due next week, and Sandra 
felt a tingle of appreciation tickle her groin as she 
recalled her last incredible bout with the Vet, when he 
had taken her in front and Sam had fucked her anally. 
It seemed to her as if this was the way her life had 
always been, and she couldn't remember what it was like 
before. Her body was the boss - her desire, her passion 
governed her completely.

She enjoyed her husband's body more and more, too, and 
didn't mind that their relationship had evolved into 
one of convenient mutual sexual satisfaction - and 
nothing else. Still, it meant she could go on savoring 
the offerings of all her neighbors and friends.

She ran her eyes over the resumes of the applicants she 
had interviewed yesterday. Two in particular stood out 
in her mind, and she knew that the choice lay between 
them.

"Mmmm," she murmured, tapping her teeth with her 
pencil, "Pablo seems to know a lot about the job, and 
is certainly very handsome, but on the other hand, Bill 
looks as if he were hung like one of our breeding 
bulls..."

The End

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 49