The big foreman pulled her close against him and started off slowly.

Almost immediately Sandy felt his groin tighten and draw in. Jesus!

She didn't have a st.i.tch on underneath those flowered thin pajamas and top. He could feel the softly rounded b.r.e.a.s.t.s mashing into his chest and the tips of his fingers on the small of her back couldn't feel any panties at all. He pulled her even closer until she fitted every curve up to him, and his jaw was pressing against her temple. The smell of her perfume floated in his nostrils and somehow it was part of the slow music. G.o.dd.a.m.n, this might be easier than he thought.

They didn't speak, just swayed and glided slowly to the music. Sandy was caught up in the spell of the moment, and he let the music fill his body as he concentrated on the feel of the young girl in his arms. Yes sir, so far he'd handled it right. Now if he could just keep it up.

"You're a good dancer, Sandy," she murmured.

"Naw ... you follow so good you just make me look that way."

He turned and dipped with her deliberately, pushing his thigh between her legs and feeling her bare c.u.n.t through the thin pajamas when they straightened up. "Yeah ... South Dakota is a pretty good place to be.

No riots or crowding or shoving."

"I'd go crazy here," Mela burst out.

"You're not going crazy now," Sandy whispered against her cheek. "But you're driving me crazy. I've been crazy 'bout you, Mela, since you were a kid."

"But that's silly, Sandy I don't think you ever paid any attention to me before."

"Wrong. It was you didn't pay no attention to me. I watched every move you made since you were a kid."

Mela was quiet in his arms as he whirled her around. It was true.

He'd been a fixture at the ranch for years. She hadn't paid any attention to him ... but why should she ... he was only the foreman.

Cole, though, was a rancher ... and she had plans. A restaurant they would build in Denver was only the beginning. She'd get Cole away from this G.o.d forsaken country! They'd travel! With the two ranches they could afford to. The restaurant would be a success, too. She knew it.

Sandy's mouth slid down her face and he caught her mouth with his. She stiffened in his arms and tried to pull away but he held her closer and finished the kiss to his satisfaction before he let her go.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"Kissing You. I've wanted to ever since you were sixteen. Took me a long time, but I made it."

"Well, I think I've had enough dancing practice for one evening," she drawled sarcastically.

"We've hardly started, woman," he said softly, pulling her back in his arms and whirling her around and around.

"Let me go! What'll the help think anyway?"

"I don't give a d.a.m.n what they think," he growled. The outraged young heiress pushed against him with her fist but he caught the slender hand and kissed each of the fingers separately. He could feel her lusciously ripe b.r.e.a.s.t.s rising against him with every breath. "You may as well settle down, Mela. You were off gallivanting all day but tonight it's my turn."

"What gives you the right to tell me what to do, Sandy Gayman?"

"This." He pulled her against him hard, thrusting his voracious mouth on hers and catching her completely by surprise. His eagerly questing tongue probed the whole warm wet surface of her mouth inside; and he held her head easily in his big hand when she twisted and tried to pull away. His arms were like a vise and he held her slenderness, cupping one softly supple b.u.t.tock so sensuously covered with thin silk. She mumbled and moaned unintelligibly under his hard mouth. By G.o.d, she was going to learn who ran this ranch and everything on it. It was going to be his and her with it!

Gradually Sandy heard her protesting moans turn soft as he went on orally f.u.c.king into her softly pliant mouth. His rigidly erect c.o.c.k was hard against her young quivering belly, and he could feel the breath catching in her throat as he ground his straining bulge against the thin lounging pajamas, searching the soft warm wonder of her trembling body. Finding her breast with one hand and cupping it close in his big palm, he could feel the hot hard nipple pop out like an automatic b.u.t.ton.

"You're just a little lonely running around the world ... when the world's right here waiting for you." he whispered.

"OOhhh ... Sandy ... Please ..." she whispered back.

"You don't need to be ... honey ... Why, I'd give you anything." His big hand slid inside the loose flowered top to hold her fully ripened breast, naked and hot; his thumb and forefinger rolled the hardened nipple gently and felt the budded end growing.

Mela felt limp and excited ... limp from being so close to that hard masculine body that seemed to know all the ways to entice a woman, and excited because he was a new man ... one she'd never had before. She could feel his wildly throbbing p.e.n.i.s pounding against her belly; it felt huge! She tried to imagine how large it would be if it were released. Cole Sutherland had been wonderfully big and she couldn't imagine any man being better, but Cole wasn't here. He was home with his wife!

You never know ... you just never know, she thought in pleased surprise. It had never occurred to her that Sandy, her own ranch foreman ... but his c.o.c.k did feel so deliriously good, and his hands did do all the right things. Her earlier bored restlessness was gone; she felt a sweet lazy fatigued feeling as her bones turned soft from Sandy's hot mouth wetly tonguing her ear, and his big hard hands deliciously kneading the cheeks of her a.s.s, and his enormous erection grinding masterfully against her belly. The wild antic.i.p.ation was rapidly building into a heated incandescence in her loins when the foreman stopped.

"Come here, little girl," he muttered, effortlessly lifting her to his arms and carrying her over to the swing. He laid her out full-length on her back and stood for a long moment looking down at her. The flowered lounging pajama top was open revealing the white delectable succulency of a naked breast gleaming like warm ivory in the moonlight.

He reached down, slipped the remaining b.u.t.tons loose, and drew the top away so he could view the twin fleshy mountains whose peaks were capped with reddened erectile nipples. In all, he thought, right now her t.i.ts look like two big scoops of ice cream, each generous scoop topped with a cherry. She lay still, one leg propped up and the other sc.r.a.ping gently on the floor with the fluid motion of the swing.

The air felt cool against her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s as she looked up at the big foreman and saw his face was a mask of barely repressed l.u.s.t, his eyes glittering and his mouth hard. "So you wanted to kiss me since I was sixteen?" she asked softly, her tone a flagrant challenge.

"That isn't all I wanted to do." Sandy knelt between her trailing leg and the swing, burying his face in the warm white softness of her t.i.t.

Suddenly he was conscious of his rasping beard against the sensitive skin. No matter how often he shaved it, it seemed there was always a little left. "I didn't mean to sc.r.a.pe you."

"A little whisker burn never hurt a girl," the young girl breathed, clutching his hard face to her again, her fingers twisting in his hair.

G.o.dd.a.m.n! Sandy moved his mouth across the nakedly hot breast and captured one rust-coloured nipple in his mouth and sucked it like a thick malt coming reluctantly through a soda straw. He heard her groan softly as her breast hardened more and strained up to his hungry mouth!

She began shaking like a clothes line in a high wind!

"Ohhhh ... Sandy ..."

He sucked harder, swirling his tongue tantalizingly over the rigid nipple quivering so salaciously. The young girl arched her back and raised her chest, eagerly offering both trembling mounds of flesh to his hotly devouring mouth. To Sandy they were like warm divinity candy as they heaved under his hand and mouth. Sandy could feel his c.o.c.k wildly beating in his jeans, throbbing with a fiercely possessive beat that threatened to obliterate his careful plans to seduce her slowly and well! His mouth moved over to the other neglected nipple and began a long, slow sucking of it too.

Mela began to rationalize her position, her big foreman's mouth on her t.i.ts, the inevitable f.u.c.king she knew that was going to take place.

After their wonderful day how could Cole Sutherland have gone off like that back to his wife? If he cared he wouldn't have left her. He'd have found a way. A long time ago Mela had vowed that no man would use her. She would use them ... like the female spider used the male.

That way you couldn't get hurt. You always held the whip hand. Like now! Sandy would have to do anything she told him to do. She was the boss ... and right now the boss wanted to be f.u.c.ked!

"Go on, Sandy ... suck my t.i.ts ... suck them hard ... Yesss ... bite them ... it hurts so good! Bite them!" she commanded, feeling the heady exhilaration of knowing the power she held over this man.

Again and again Sandy sank his teeth into the white softly pliant flesh. He nibbled the tender budded nipples and then laved them with his tongue, soothing and sucking until she was a writhing ma.s.s of impatiently whimpering l.u.s.t! His hands found the drawstring which was all that held the silken pajama pants in place; he jerked it open all the way down to the crotch, exposing the softly curling hairs of the blonde pubic triangle between her thighs. He'd long ago decided in school when they read the story of Jason and the golden fleece that it wasn't a sheepskin Jason searched for ... but a golden m.u.f.f of p.u.s.s.y hair. Just like this one!

"Let's go inside ... someone may see us." Mela ordered, as she felt the cool night air on her naked belly, and then felt a momentary irritation because he ignored her command. The anger quickly faded, however, when Sandy's tongue wetly dug into the depression of her tiny navel. It was like a red hot needle shafting straight through her body and the rapturous blood poured through her loins like molten lava shooting from a deep inferno. This was the only time she'd ever been in South Dakota that she hadn't gone crazy in a few days because there were no men ...

no f.u.c.king. But now ... oh G.o.d! There was going to be some real f.u.c.king. She shoved up against his head and said sharply, "Dammit, Sandy ... I said let's go inside before someone sees us."

Sandy lifted his head and jerked her around in the swing; his eyes were hot coals searing her flesh, his hands like steel bands. "I don't give a d.a.m.n who sees us ... you're my woman ... you been my woman for a long time now ... and tonight you're going to know it ... you can forget running off to the lawyers ... we're going to get married ... there ain't no cause to sell the ranch. I can run it like always ... you hear me?" Mela felt him shake her and she liked that, but his confident words and the domineering way he spoke angered her. Who in the world did he think he was? Another Cole Sutherland?

"What ... what do you mean ... get married what gives you the right to talk to me that way?" she sputtered, trying to come back to reality when her body was still warmly encased in the web he'd spun with his hands and mouth and strong male body.

"This ...!" His head dropped between her wide-spread thighs and his warmly quivering tongue shot out and with one wet, curl-parting lick cleaved her moistened v.a.g.i.n.al slit from a.n.u.s to c.l.i.toris, slicing the thin, hair fringed groove with the fire of his raging l.u.s.t! That tongue was a white hot knife slicing her genital flesh in two! But, oh G.o.d! How she loved it!

Sandy tasted her sweetly flowing c.u.n.tal juices on his tongue, her softly pulsating lips of p.u.s.s.y flesh aromatically hot and delectable.

Christ! This was real eating p.u.s.s.y, even if Cole Sutherland had been f.u.c.king it! The golden fleece that hid the treasure! His mother's voice came to him out of his childhood. "Don't try to get above your station, Sandy ... you're gonna get hurt. You're always trying to get with the uppity folks. They's different. You'll see!" h.e.l.l, they weren't different! p.u.s.s.y was p.u.s.s.y! The only different thing about this p.u.s.s.y was it was hot and ready and it was attached to the ranch that had become his life. He wanted it ... and by G.o.d he was going to have it!

The eagerly writhing young blonde could smell the leather and tobacco aroma of the big man whose fervent tongue was buried hotly in her c.u.n.t, and the masculine scents only set her juices flowing freer! Oh G.o.d!

He was eating her alive! She could feel his wickedly gluttonous tongue shoving deeper into her depths like a small stiff p.r.i.c.k just as his hands came up to fondle her shaking b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She could hear the swing squeak softly with each downward bob of his head, his nose rubbing hotly against her c.l.i.toris as the long tongue stabbed deeper and deeper into her deliriously opened p.u.s.s.y.

She gazed down at her naked loins, thrilled at the lewd sight of her glisteningly spread v.a.g.i.n.al lips twitching on each side of Sandy's hungrily rooting nose and warmly digging tongue. Her pelvis lunged forward against the foraging face of her foreman, and her hands came down to press his lasciviously laboring tongue even deeper into the seething depths of her c.o.c.k-hungry c.u.n.t.

"Mm ... mmmmm ... mmmmm ... mmmmmmm!" Sandy sucked and licked feverishly, savoring the hot woman nectar, lapping it like syrup and relishing its heady aromatic flavor. He looked up to see Mela's head thrown back against the porch swing, her voluptuous b.r.e.a.s.t.s quivering, her smooth naked belly rippling, and her legs violently trembling like someone with palsy. The opened blouse and pants of flowered silk framed the beautiful satin flesh in crushed flowers. Her eyes were glazed with a film of sensual, carnal expectations, and he chuckled deep in his throat. G.o.d! She heated up hotter than a poker! He was going to eat her alive and then take her upstairs in that fancy, frilly bed of hers and f.u.c.k her senseless! By G.o.d ... when he got through with her she was going to think that b.a.s.t.a.r.d Cole Sutherland was not only impotent but had the p.e.c.k.e.r of a rabbit.

Sandy lowered his face again but her quivering thighs had caused the offending cloth to slip up too far, partially covering her c.u.n.tal mound. He grabbed the fragile material and impatiently ripped it along the seam so that the whole of her moistly glistening genital cleft was now open to him. Two pieces of filmy silk dangled enticingly half-way down her wide-spread thighs. He grunted with satisfaction as he lowered his head, puckered his lips, and began sucking the hard little c.l.i.toris into his hotly watering mouth.

"Oohhhh ... Ah G.o.d, Sandy ... Ohhhh ... that's it ... oh, Jesus G.o.d Almighty ... my p.u.s.s.y ... my p.u.s.s.y, my p.u.s.s.y ... I can't stand it!"

Almost frantically, she raised her thighs and slid them over his shoulders, making a shamelessly lewd offering of everything she had up between her legs.

Sandy's tongue shot out to swirl wildly around the smooth fleshy sides of her tightly clasping v.a.g.i.n.al walls inside the hungrily milking cavern. The bands of muscle leaped to enclose his tongue, squeezing it and sucking it as though they were devouring it in their frantic effort to relieve their carnal misery! Her hips were wildly gyrating as they insanely ground the inflamed p.u.s.s.y hard up against his laboring face.

Oh G.o.d, Mela thought. The more she was eaten, the more she wanted! It had been that way ever since she was sixteen and went to Switzerland.

Eating p.u.s.s.y was the favorite pastime of the girls at the sedate school, and the heiress had acquired her taste then for oral gratification ... but she liked it even better from a man than from woman! It had been two years now since she had indulged in any lesbian f.u.c.king. Anything a woman could do to her, she found, a man could do better! And her foreman was doing it better than most males. G.o.d Sandy, with just a little coaching, you'd be the best of all, she thought with considerable amazement. She looked down at her fingers entwined in his thick sandy hair. He didn't seem to have felt her frantically twisting his hair, even she had not been aware of it. It was simply a reflex action of her tortured body crying out in any way it could for release. And the release was so close!

The young girl continued to squirm and buck as his teeth gently took the erect and sensitive c.l.i.toris and bit it very softly while his mouth sucked it heatedly up so his tongue could moistly dance around it. She shivered and moaned as his curling tongue deliciously licked and then rammed impossibly deep into her fevered c.u.n.t, writhing lasciviously as Sandy orally f.u.c.ked her so greedily. The excited secretions from deep within the secret recesses of her body trickled out in warmly debauched rivulets and creamed on his already glistening face!

The big foreman lapped up the sultrily sweet s.e.xual liquids where they mixed with his own saliva as he teasingly laved her c.u.n.t, and then his tongue moved on down to the tiny puckered ring of her a.n.u.s, indrawn and defenseless. Once, twice, three, four times he slowly licked the tiny puckered little opening, deliberately tormenting her, and then shoved his stiffened tongue hard into the cringing pa.s.sage.

"AGHHHHHH ... OOOOOHHHHH ... OOOOOOOHHHHH ... GGAAHHHH ...!" His young blonde boss groaned out in rapture as he wormed his lubricious tongue deeper inside her violently quivering a.s.shole. He continued to burrow further into the sweetly pungent fissure until Mela's breath caught and she arched her body up to him as though it were a tightly drawn bow with an unfired arrow. Quickly, then, because he knew she was close to o.r.g.a.s.m, he turned his attention back to her c.u.n.t and began to mercilessly drive his stiffened tongue in and out of her wetly clasping p.u.s.s.y. The girl made little gurgling noises in her throat, seemingly gagging with her own saliva.

Sandy's c.o.c.k was going absolutely wild, beating and throbbing and his b.a.l.l.s were on fire under the pressure until he thought they might burst of their own accord just from the sight and smell and taste and feel of Mela's beautifully flooding, s.e.xually frenzied p.u.s.s.y! Then she was there! It was as though a gag had been ripped from her mouth and her joyous screaming filled the quiet prairie night.

"GGGGAAAAGGGHHHH ... AAHHHHEEEEEEEE ... I'M c.u.mMMMING! I'M c.u.mMMMING!".

Her b.u.t.tocks clenched and unclenched in his hands before her pelvis began wantonly gyrating and rotating in wild abandonment. She was going crazy!

Sandy continued to lick and stab and pierce her wildly thrashing, convulsing c.u.n.t as her hands tried to pull his whole face and head inside the furiously sucking depths of her crazed v.a.g.i.n.a! Now it was as though she wanted to swallow him whole, suck all of him deep up inside her desperately quaking body.

"Oohhh ... G.o.ddd ... OOOOOHHHHHAAA ..." The piercing wails spilled from her l.u.s.t-constricted throat and she couldn't stop! Such wild, unrestrained, ecstasy could not be contained within the narrow confines of her flesh but spilled out her mouth in agonized screams of bliss!

She could feel the waves washing her higher and higher and higher until she thought she would burst apart with the exquisitely engulfing sensations! Oh G.o.d! Oh G.o.d! It never stopped ... just when she thought the incredible o.r.g.a.s.m was subsiding ... another started up ...

carrying her higher than the last until she was just a limp ma.s.s of exhausted flesh pitifully begging her triumphantly grinning foreman to stop.

G.o.dd.a.m.n, Sandy thought, she must have c.u.m four times at least! His own unsatisfied l.u.s.t had built to such a heated point that his c.o.c.k was dribbling c.u.m inside his shorts. Christ! If he didn't unload soon he was going to cream his shorts for sure! This morning he had seen Mela was a hot woman, but not anything like this! The blonde was as limp as a rag doll ... her s.e.xually sated face a mirror of joyful ecstasy and relaxed, deep peace.

Sandy stood, easing his cramped knees, then bent down and scooped her naked body up in his arms. As he walked across the porch, cradling her against his chest, she stirred and her eyes fluttered open. "You're something else, friend," she said languidly, then snuggled in closer to his ma.s.sive chest.

"We're just going upstairs to your bed, baby," he whispered against her hair. "But when I'm in it, it's my bed. Understand?"

"Yes ... boss," she replied, then yawned like a kitten before the fire, and closed her eyes in silent, blissful expectation ...

Chapter 6.

The moment Kate drove into the driveway after coming from the Grange Hall she saw that Cole's pick-up was gone. Gone again to that woman!

Her nerves were already shot and she felt them tighten even more.

After their neighboring ranch foreman, Sandy Gayman, had forced himself between her nakedly spread legs down by the pond and emptied his pa.s.sion into her she had come wearily back to the house, showered, and slept for the rest of the afternoon. A sleep that was like the sleep of the dead. Then she'd rushed around making a huge dinner, baked the blackberry pies, and did the last minute things she did every day to feed a lot of mouths. She was feeling shaken but composed enough to be just coolly silent with Cole when he finally came in. Every time the guilt had begun gnawing at her vitals she'd looked at her husband and remembered what he had done with the Meacham girl, and what she herself had done with Sandy. Thank G.o.d there'd been the Grange Hall to decorate. This had been one evening she couldn't possibly have spent at home ... not after what had happened. All the way home from the Grange with Eric she'd wondered how she was going to face Cole. Now that he was gone she could be relieved and angry at the same time.

Work, she told herself, as she marched into the kitchen. Get the pies done. You'll be so tired by then you can fall into bed and not think.

She looked up at Eric lounging in the doorway as she got the flour and sugar and pie pans out of the cupboard. "Don't you want to watch television?" she asked.

"Rather stay here with you, Mrs. Sutherland."

"How about letter writing. Don't you have a girl back home?"

"Never even had a date ... maybe if I could find one like you ..." He looked down at her shyly.

She smiled. "Well, you look around a little and you'll soon find someone. Meanwhile, you can help me with the pies. How about peeling some apples?"

The giant blonde youth seemed pathetically grateful to be allowed to help, and Kate's heart went out to him. He was so nice ... a nice clean-cut boy. Then she forgot all about him as she began reliving the scene in the blackberry thicket.

"You worried about something?" Eric asked as he stood by the sink, washing the apples.

Kate looked up startled, her hands covered with flour. The big breadboard was covered with pastry rings she was rolling out. "Why ...

oh, I don't know, Eric. I guess we all have worries from time to time ...".

"I think maybe our being here, I mean Angel and me ... may have caused you some trouble with Mr. Sutherland. He seemed like ... well, he keeps going off. I mean, it doesn't seem natural, seeing as how he's been gone so long. I wouldn't want to cause you any trouble. You've been so good to me. I'd like to live here ... just stay here forever."

"That's sweet of you, Eric. I'm glad you like the ranch so much. As for Cole ... well, he's busy and he had a lot on his mind. That Limousin bull cost an awful lot of money and he's just worried, I'm sure." Why was she rea.s.suring the boy, she wondered. He couldn't really care one way or the other. But she knew it was herself she was rea.s.suring.

Eric turned to her and looked straight into her eyes boldly. "It's not the ranch I like so much, Mrs. Sutherland." It's you. You are the most wonderful woman I've ever met," he ended softly.

"Oh ... well ... you'll find a wonderful girl--someday, Eric ... After all, you just needed some mothering and ... that's the one thing I seem to be good at," she ended, her voice dying away in her own reverie, her brows knitting in confusion.

"You're good at everything!" Eric protested fervently. "You're kind and good and ... I can't stand it when you're unhappy!"

Kate looked at the blonde giant of a boy, touched that he saw such saintly qualities in her. It was more his age than anything else. At eighteen everything was either terribly good or terribly bad. All black and white. No compromises, no grey areas. Yet, she knew that life was mostly made up of the grey ... with very few really black or really white moments. She thought guiltily of this afternoon with Sandy ... so charcoal grey as to be black ... but so pale and beautiful as to be almost white. Oh G.o.d ... what a mess she'd made of things!

Kind and good Eric said ... and he believed it, his eyes blazing loyally. She could never be good again. She was an adulteress! No matter how she tried to justify it ... that's precisely what she was!