RWS-152 Behind The Barn
[aka 'Back Of The Barn']
by Evelyn Street


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 levelling 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 stronge 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 jawline where it swung into a guiche 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 manilla 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 
tensity 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 
photograpb, 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 dishevelled 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 flngers. 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 
grovelling 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 revelling 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 to help her get 
over this terrible discovery. She felt strangely illucid, 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 legband 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 sombre 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 revelled 
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 fingerfucking 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 
parlour. 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 
workshirt, 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 pummelling 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 titillatingly 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 tunnelling 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 trammelling 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 practised 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 titties ... 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 aureolas were crinkled in their 
contracted excitement. His lust-glazed eyes travelled down the length 
of her magnificent body, coated with moisture, revelling 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 
rotatory 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 T.V., 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.

"H'mm, 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'samatter, 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 
fingerfucking 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 rotatory 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 feathersoft 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 travelled 
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 bips, 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 salival 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 
raspingly 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 fingerfucking 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, smouldering 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 unforgiveable 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 body, 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 throbbingly 
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 grovelled 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 signalled 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 NOOOOOOOOO ..." 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 fervour. 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 weals 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.

"NOOOOOoooooooo ..." 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 revulsed 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 illiciting 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 ... !!! AHHHHHHHHH ... !"

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 ... 
AAAAGGGHHHHHHHHH ..." 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-drencbed 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 orfice, 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 acquiescense, 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 
sittingroom 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 tunnelling 
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, revelling in their resilient 
softness, and then pulled her crotch even further down on his sunken 
cock, swivelling 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 ]over.

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.

"... nnnnggghhhhhh ..." 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 shortlived, 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.

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

"PLEASE STOP, SAM ... PLEEASSSSEEEEE ..." 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 
]over, 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 excrutiating 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 experince 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 stockstill. 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.

"... hhhhnnnngggghhhhh ...!" 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 instrokes and his short, 
sharp outstrokes 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 cantation 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 grovelled 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, travelling 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 travelling 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 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 ... GOOOOOO ... ! !"

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 
revelled in the lewd tbree-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 signalled 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 pummelling 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
