Nature's Child
by Clifton Ryder
(LLP-217)


FOREWORD 

The story of Nancy Leeds, proudly presented herein, is a major achievement 
in that it throws much-needed light on the manners and morals of the 
southwestern United States. There should be no compromises in telling a 
story, but rather the reverse. And the publishers feel that the author has 
courageously met the high standards of good fiction, without drawbacks, in a 
way that informs as well as entertains. Nor does he fear being called too 
specific, inclining as he does to the view that only the exhaustive can be 
truly interesting. 

All the elements are included ranging from wild horse-hunting to group rape, 
from incest to nymphomania and are set forth in the barren but strikingly 
beautiful setting of a desert and a large ranch typical of the Southwest. 
The squeamish reader should stop here if he or she cannot withstand the 
veracity and power of the tale that unfolds dramatically in the pages of 
this book. 

Also touched upon is the important issue of the seriously imperiled 
existence of wildlife in America. In this case it is wild horses involved. 
Except for a few small bands in Nevada, the multitudes of roving herds on 
the Western Plains have vanished forever. As in other cases involving the 
extinction of a species, the disappearance of wild horses has created a 
serious ecological imbalance in our environment. 

We are grateful to Mr. Paxton for the care and effort expended in 
researching the myths and psychological factors he has drawn upon to make 
this one of the more important literary events of the last decade. He is 
poet and novelist, critic and historian, man and animal . . . and the 
graphically exciting scenes to be encountered herein show that he is also a 
philosopher who has grappled with and clarified some of the more perplexing 
problems facing our society. 

We feel certain that every reader will identify with the artfully presented 
characters in this novel. For there is something of all of us in Nancy, her 
father, the Dawsons, and the hermit poet, Frank Summerwell. As presented, we 
see that their problems and desires are no more and no less unique than our 
own. 

There is a Nancy Leeds living in every city and village in America. Who 
knows, perhaps there is one living next door or even in your own family. 

-THE PUBLISHERS 


CHAPTER I 

It was breathlessly hot, another scorcher in the lowlands where Leeds Ranch 
nestled below the purple and dun-colored peaks of the Guadalupe Mountains. 
In that palpitant moist heat, dense from the rising damps of the nearby 
Mescalero River and sweet with the stench of manure in the corrals, even the 
livestock was listless and moved only enough to swish or shudder at flies. 
The sky was an off-white, almost gray, and only a few thin, elongated clouds 
could be seen stretching away to the southwest. 

Nancy Leeds leaned lazily against a corner post of the corral her father 
used only for brood mares, thinking, reflecting happily on the fact that she 
was home for the summer, for almost three months, and free, free to ride and 
swim and just be herself again. Not that she disliked school; it was simply 
that her summers on the ranch, away from the restrictions and madcap pace at 
the private school, were times she cherished and especially looked forward 
to with great excitement. If there was one thing she loved more than any 
other, it was riding out alone to explore the foothills and bathe her 
nostrils with sage and the sweet-smelling flowers that grew in tiny clusters 
beside the many natural springs in the area. Sometimes she even stripped off 
her clothes and took nude sunbaths while her horse grazed on the patches of 
succulent grass around the springs. Then, she would rise and sit directly in 
the middle of the icy pool of water, allowing her deliciously rounded young 
buttocks to turn blue with the cold, until at last she could bear it no 
longer. 

At fourteen, she was already a full-blown beauty, heavy-breasted and 
small-waisted, her lovely hips curving gently out in a sensual sweep that 
tapered to the soft whiteness of her shapely thighs. Her attractively 
freckled face was framed by rich red shoulder-length hair and sported a 
small pert nose and a lush, rather pouty mouth. In school, the boys made 
vain attempts to date her, but she was always too involved in her studies, 
or in reading novels, to be bothered by their adolescent attraction to her. 
They seemed much too immature to interest her. . . . She had no particular 
choice, no clear cut idea of what a lover should be, but certainly he would 
not be one of those pimply squirts at school. 

Suddenly it began to rain. Big soft drops splashed down on her, soaking the 
light shirt and faded jeans she wore, and cooling her off for the first time 
since she had returned, the day before, to the ranch. The light rain was 
pleasant and would be perfect to go riding in. She could try out the new 
stallion her father had given her as a coming-home gift. 

She turned, then, and raced for the tack room with a girlish, 
breast-bouncing gait, her long red hair bobbing up and down as she went. Ten 
minutes later, she had caught and saddled the young sorrel stud, which she 
had already named Happy, and was now riding along the narrow stone path that 
fringed the river bank. About three hundred yards upstream, she urged the 
stallion into the water where a wide shallow place in the river afforded an 
ideal spot to cross to the other bank. 

When she had made the crossing, she rode awhile along a row of tall bright 
trees full of trembling light, and she marveled at how the leaves danced 
lightly in the breeze. It was the way she felt, free and airy, as huge 
herself as the wide stretch of desert that led up to the foothills of the 
mountain range and poured away into the distance on either side of her as 
far as she could see. She rode in silence for twenty minutes or so, then 
felt Happy begin to snort and breathe heavily as he began the steep ascent 
of the trail up into a canyon between two ridges. She knew there was a pool 
another mile in and intended to take a quick dip in the nude, to cool off 
again, once she got there. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago and it was 
once again becoming swelteringly hot. 

Just as she had thought, the pool was still there when she finally reigned 
in her mount, a short time later, and dismounted to look around. She smiled 
as she heard lizards scurrying away in the underbrush, roused from their 
slumbers by the approach of her footsteps. The pool itself was higher than 
she had ever seen it in past years at least ten feet deep and a dark cold 
green. It looked so inviting that she resolved then and there to make good 
her promise to herself to have a good refreshing soak. She unbuttoned her 
blouse and jeans, peeling them off eagerly until she stood there in the 
sun-mottled shade, clad only in brassiere and underpants. Then she reached 
behind her back and unfastened the hooks of her pale pink bra, her full 
young breasts spilling free and bouncing a moment from the sudden release. 
Wriggling out of the garment, the firm high roundness of the ample globes 
burst into view, the pink nipples hardening at the sudden exposure to the 
coolish air. Then she leaned over to slip her white nylon panties down over 
her hips, tugging and pushing at them until they were rolled in thin circles 
around her ankles. Kicking them free, she laughed and raised her slender 
arms over her head, reveling in the delightful nakedness of her beautiful, 
ripe young body. 

After a moment's pause, she waded into the water up to her thighs, standing 
still just long enough to allow her system to absorb the shock. Then she 
lunged forward with arms out and splashed full length into the pool, 
shrieking and giggling from the painful jolt of the icy water surrounding 
her sensitive skin. She dove under and came up a few seconds later, 
surfacing with a sudden whoosh, then dog-paddled leisurely as the exertions 
of her limbs warmed her and made her less uncomfortable. She swam back and 
forth across the short oblong length of the pool, sometimes stopping to 
float on her back and catch her breath, then tucking up her legs to roll 
over for another furious sprint to the slick rock wall at the far end of the 
water. At last, exhausted, she emerged dripping and walked to a smooth, 
scooped-out boulder where she lay down to bake her face and stomach in the 
desert sun. 

When the rays of the sun grew too much, she rolled over on her side and 
stared down into the now glassy calm water to watch the reflected clouds 
drifting slowly. Then she saw something that made her heart pound wildly . . 
. something she could not believe. On the pool surface there was the 
mirrored image of a naked man sitting overhead on one of the big rocks 
behind her. As far as she could tell, he was gazing down at her nude form 
and moving his hand rapidly up and down between his legs. Good grief, he was 
actually playing with himself! 

Little by little, Nancy eased over on her stomach and peeked up from under 
her arm in the direction of the rocks where the man must be. She caught 
sight of him immediately he was sitting perched on the highest of the 
boulders, not more than thirty feet away. Fear pulsed in her throat as she 
surveyed his muscular, deeply-tanned body and the thick, glistening male 
hardness between his legs that he was stroking crazily as he ogled her young 
bare buttocks and legs. She ached to get up and run to Happy, her stallion, 
then ride toward home as fast as the stout horse could carry her, but for 
some reason she was paralyzed and afraid even to breathe loudly enough for 
her own ears to hear. He seemed almost insane with excitement as he gazed at 
her, his blond hair long and tousled, fanning out in the breeze as he 
continued to jerk his hand faster and faster along the huge length of his 
sex organ. Nancy estimated that he was probably somewhere in his thirties, 
maybe thirty-five, and he seemed to have a handsome, intelligent face. Now, 
though, his face was contorting with the effort of his sexual manipulations 
and she could almost feel his passion building to the point where he would 
either stop or explode in the hot sun. 

Suddenly she heard a small groan erupt from his lips and saw him stiffen, 
his loins tensing and arching slightly upwards as a thin milky white stream 
of liquid shot several inches into the air and fell onto the sloping side of 
the boulder he sat on. 

The large hairy testicles dangling beneath his penis seemed to dry up before 
her very eyes, and she watched, now with fascination, as the towering column 
of flesh he was holding began to deflate and fall an inch at a time to one 
side. . . . He had finished whatever it was he had been doing, she could 
tell, for he rose slowly to his feet and squeezed the now-drooping penis 
between his thumb and forefingers, causing more of the white stuff to ooze 
out of the end and fall to the spot on the rock-face where the rest of it 
was running freely into a crevice about halfway down the side. 

What could she possibly do now? And what would he do? she wondered as she 
watched the stranger make his way down the face of the boulder, obviously 
intending to come to the spot where she lay. Perhaps if she pretended to be 
asleep, he would merely go away and not subject her to further 
embarrassment. As she lay there, listening to the stranger's footsteps draw 
closer, the pressure of waiting finally became too much for her and she 
scrambled to her feet. Without even bothering to look behind her, she ran 
recklessly toward the pool and dove, her firm young body soaring up and out, 
then falling to slice into the cold spring water with barely a splash. When 
at last she emerged at the far end of the pool, tossing her head to shake 
the water from her face and hair, the blonde man was standing next to her 
clothes, his hands on his hips and a broad smile on his face as he watched 
her. She could see that he really was handsome, his deeply-tanned body even 
more muscular and well formed than she had been able to tell at a distance. 

"How's the water?" he asked cheerily, his voice husky and resonant with 
masculinity. His eyes were fiery, full of something strange, laughing, 
mocking. Nancy had been prepared to order him to leave her alone but the 
tone of his voice and the way he stared at her, so openly, left her 
speechless. Besides, she had never seen a full-grown man without any clothes 
on, and the sight of his now limp but nevertheless huge hanging penis, made 
her feel something she had never felt before. Finally she said: 

"The water's cold . . . I I'd like to get out." 

"And you want me to turn my back while you dress, right?" he said 
matter-of-factly, turning around to stare up at the rocks where he had been 
while gazing at her earlier. "Okay, you can come out now, but it's pretty 
silly to worry about not having clothes on . . . I'm naked. . . . Doesn't 
that bother you?" 

"Yes, it embarrasses me," the young girl admitted, still not venturing from 
the icy water. "Please go away." 

"I'll tell you what," the blonde stranger said, turning again to face her as 
he spoke, "I'll go up on the rock, get my towel and wrap it around me if 
you'll come out of that damned freezing water and talk awhile. Okay?" 

"Okay," Nancy agreed, relieved at the prospect of his covering himself as 
much as being allowed to safely leave the cold pool without submitting her 
nudity to his intense, bold eyes. She watched him turn and pick his way 
slowly up the rock face again, following the same route he had used to come 
down. When he reached the top, she saw him turn and wave, signalling her 
with one hand while he used the other to wrap the towel he had retrieved 
around his waist. Nancy had paddled closer toward her clothes but would not 
stand and reveal herself until finally he sat down on the rock with his back 
toward her. Then she rushed out of the pool, snatched up her underwear and 
outer garments with both hands, and dashed behind a large clump of thick 
bushes to dress as hurriedly as possible. If only she could crouch low and 
make it without being seen to her stallion, she could ride out of there like 
the wind and escape whatever crazy ideas this mysterious man might have. She 
was working frantically to button the last few buttons of her shirt when she 
heard his low chuckle not more than a dozen feet from where she was. 

"You finished dressing?" the masculine voice asked, a slightly amused tone 
in it. Before she could answer, he stepped around the cover of foliage she 
had been using and held up two fingers in the sign for peace. Nancy had seen 
young students on television using the same peace symbol during marches to 
demonstrate their feelings about the war in Vietnam, and now she thought it 
peculiar that this strange, almost naked man should be holding up his 
fingers in this manner in a desert wilderness. 

"What do you want of me?" she asked as she tucked her shirt in the waist of 
her jeans, her eyes still avoiding his own. She was sorry almost at once 
when she asked the question, for he shrugged and assumed a distinctly 
innocent expression on his face, as though she had asked something wrong, 
something entirely out of order. 

"I want to be your friend . . . if you're not afraid to be," he answered 
slowly, a trace of challenge lighting his quick blue eyes as he gathered the 
towel around his loins more tightly, the gesture itself a kind of mocking 
dare. "I've never seen you out here before, but I can guess who are you, 
you're Mel Leeds's daughter, Nancy, aren't you? I've heard of you in town 
when I've gone in for supplies. The story was that you're a real little 
beauty, and you are . . . I can see that they weren't exaggerating." 

Nancy flushed and turned half away, pretending to watch Happy as the stud 
chopped lazily at the tufts of green grass where he was tethered. She was 
still frightened but also intrigued by this blonde stranger who had been 
playing with himself as he had gazed down at her nude adolescent body. 

"Do you really live out here?" she finally asked, curiosity getting the best 
of her. 

"Yes, Nancy, I do. My name is Frank Summerwell and I'm a sort of hermit 
poet. About four months ago, I built a shack near here, just over that 
ridge," he said, pointing to a long purple crest of rock and shrubs to the 
south, about five hundred yards away, "and I write short stories and 
articles, to support myself, when I'm not working on poems. . . . Would you 
like to see my place? I've even got a garden." 

"Thank you, but I'd better be getting home," Nancy said uncertainly, 
intrigued as much as threatened by his offer to show off the cabin. Her mind 
was still a little fuzzy and she could still sense his eyes burning through 
her clothes to devour the lush white curves of her body. 

"Nonsense, it's early yet, and besides," he urged, "I'd consider it an honor 
if you'd tell me what you think of an article I've just written about 
teenage girls. It's for one of the family magazines, a new one, and I'd like 
your opinion on whether or not it's too bold for parents to handle." 

"I'd like to, really, but I think it would be better some other time. It 
looks stormy again," she said, indicating the blue-black clouds over the 
Guadalupe Range, "and my dad will skin me if I'm out too long without his 
knowing where I am." 

"Nan, don't worry about those clouds," Frank Summerwell assured her. 
"They'll blow all the way down to Mexico before they let go with a real 
storm. Come on." 

Feeling out-manned and still curious, Nancy shrugged and turned to walk back 
to where Happy was grazing. Frank strode along beside her, saying nothing, 
his white towel yet girding his waist and covering his huge dangling penis 
and trim buttocks. As they walked along, Nancy leading the stallion by the 
bridle reins, it was just as Frank had promised it would be a cooling wind 
rose and began to herd the ominous storm clouds down the sky, south, toward 
Texas and Mexico. Gradually her fear of the man lessened and they began to 
chat amicably as they skirted the last of the boulders surrounding the pool. 
He seemed such a sincere person, a real man, someone she could not help but 
like even though his age and the memory of his lewd behavior on the rock, 
troubled and frightened her. What could he possibly want of her, she 
wondered, and why was she so tempted to find out? He had made no mention 
whatsoever of his obscene display of lust, earlier, when she had been 
stretched out, innocently naked, and she certainly wanted to avoid the 
subject herself. And yet, there was no denying that the very thought of his 
penis, stiff and gleaming in the sun, excited her, sparking her mind to form 
lewdly exciting pictures and conclusions about sex that she had never dared 
form before. 

At last they entered a deep brown-stoned canyon and were respectful of the 
new-born stillness of the area as they plodded along, passing sun-bleached 
skulls of cattle and occasionally surprising a fat brush snake sunning 
himself full-length across the trail. It was almost religiously quiet and 
Nancy found herself experiencing a whole new range of emotions as they made 
their way toward Frank's cabin. As they reached the other end of the small 
canyon, the one remaining crescent of clouded sky moved languidly over and 
beyond the tapering slopes of the Guadalupes. She sucked in her breath 
involuntarily when she first caught sight of the rustic structure he had 
described, nestling alone between two red-hued outcroppings of rock where 
the canyon turned slightly and then finally petered out. It was an 
imaginatively constructed dwelling, made of carefully chosen rocks which 
were solidly held in place by hard, sun-dried abode and supported by thick 
vertical greasewood poles at intervals of two feet. At one side of the 
little cabin, under a solitary willow tree and next to a vegetable garden 
comprised of neat rows of beans, tomatoes, green onions, and several 
varieties of legumes, there was a rough-hewn bench. She decided that, all in 
all, it did seem a perfect place to live, a kind of peaceful haven, where 
one could think and write and learn to commune with the desolate desert 
surroundings. Had she not actually seen the place, she would never have 
dreamed that so bucolic a setting could exist in the very heart of this 
harsh, hot country. 

"Well, what do you think of it?" Frank asked sincerely, a proud, strangely 
tender quality in his voice as they approached the cabin. "I built it 
myself, from the ground up," he went on, not giving Nancy a chance to 
answer, "and to tell you the truth, I've been happier here than anywhere 

I've ever been. At night I spend hours just sitting on that bench, listening 
to owls and coyotes . . . and sometimes I hear the wild ones, the horses, 
out there. They whinny and snort and sound like angry thunder when they come 
down through the canyons. . . . Sometimes I want to run with them, wild and 
free." 

"Wild horses, here in the Guadalupies?" the voluptuous young redhead asked, 
her head perking up with obvious interest. She had heard of the almost 
legendary band of wild mustangs, from friends and other ranchers who visited 
her father, since she was a little girl, and now her pulse quickened at the 
thought that the herd might really exist. The very idea made her heart soar 
and suddenly the summer seemed all the more attractively adventurous. If 
there were really wild ones . . . if they really roamed the range . . . 
perhaps she would be lucky enough to spot them on one of her rides this 
summer. 

"Have you ever seen them?" she asked, unable to contain her youthful 
excitement. 

"Of course I've seen them," he assured her, his handsome face lighting up 
with cockiness. "In fact, I've seen them quite a few times within several 
miles of here. It's an odd bunch. Mostly mares, and even a few geldings 
strays from nearby ranches. Their leader is a black stud, one of the 
prettiest pieces of horseflesh you've ever seen. I guess he must kill or 
drive off the other studs even the ones foaled in the herd." 

They continued to discuss the herd a while longer, everything he said 
further sparking her curiosity, teasing it to further heights. Finally, he 
took her arm and guided her gently toward the door of the cabin. "Come on," 
he urged, "I'll show you that article I was talking about. While you're 
reading it, we'll have a cool glass of wine. I fetched some from my cooling 
box I keep one in the spring behind the garden just this morning." 

Once inside, it took Nancy's eyes a moment to adjust to the dark interior of 
the room. As he bustled about, opening the wine bottle and setting up cups, 
she had an opportunity to assess the contents of the structure. There was a 
lumpy mattress, probably filled with leaves and evergreen boughs, in one 
corner of the room; one straight-backed chair in front of a fairly large 
hand-made table; and on the wall over a Coleman stove, she saw a small 
variety of cooking utensils and a lantern hanging from pegs. A feeling of 
momentary sympathy came over her as she realized how terribly little the man 
had to his name. Aside from what she had first seen, there were only a few 
books and an ancient typewriter, an extra pair of trousers, several shirts, 
a fuck sack and an axe, all either on or stacked next to the table. 

"As you can see, Nancy, I live simply. I don't need much out here. . . . But 
here," he said, crossing to the table and picking up a thin sheaf of papers, 
"I want your opinion on this story I told you about." 

She accepted the story as well as one of the cups filled three-quarters full 
with a deep-red wine. Sipping it, she moved to the table and, still 
standing, began to scan the first page of Frank Summerwell's impressions of 
modern teenage girls in America. It seemed to be well written, she thought 
to herself, but she was having a difficult time concentrating on the various 
considerations and themes in the article. Instead, her mind kept wandering, 
picturing over and over again the frightening but oddly stimulating 
spectacle of the blonde man's huge erect penis, how he had slid his hand up 
and down its awesome length while he had sat on the rock above her, watching 
her and devouring her nakedness. So that was what men do to themselves, 
alone, when they are not actually in bed with their wives or girlfriends. . 
. . Oh yes, she knew about sexual intercourse. Once, about a year ago, her 
father had taken her aside to explain some of the particulars about sex 
between wives and husbands, boys and girls. He had even allowed her to 
witness a number of mating sessions between the prize studs and brood mares 
on the ranch. After all, he had reasoned, if she planned to have a ranch of 
her own someday, she should know about breeding stock. 

She remembered how violent and dramatic those matings had seemed to her. Her 
mind could hardly accept that the mares were able to accommodate the 
gigantic pole-like sex organs of the stallions, and she had pleaded with her 
father to stop everything, lest the mares be torn apart and ripped inside. 
Mel Leeds had merely laughed, though, and said that, when she was old 
enough, she would understand that females, whether humans or horses, enjoyed 
mating just as intensely as males. 

"Hey, what's the matter? Is my article so thought-provoking that you can't 
get past the third page?" She was startled to hear Frank's voice at her 
shoulder, coming from less than a foot away. He was still clad in only the 
towel and his nearness sent an unsettling chill of sensation up her spine. 

"Oh goodness, yes, it's very interesting," she lied, her eyes quickly 
searching the page for something to talk about. "I was just wondering what 
this word means." She stabbed the page with her finger, indicating a word in 
one of the last few sentences. 

"Let's see," he said, taking a step forward until his bare chest brushed 
against her shoulder, his right arm slipping casually around her tiny waist 
to rest loosely on her opposite hip. She was too terrified to move, to even 
speak, and stood rooted hopelessly to the floor as though her riding boots 
had been nailed to the spot. Never in her entire life had she been this 
close to a strange man especially not when he was all but naked and they 
were alone in the desert. Her upper lip was trembling against her will, and 
she watched with horror as he moved even closer and placed his finger next 
to hers on the typewritten page, gently nudging her unsteady hand aside as 
he spoke: 

"Oh, that one. . . . The word is Priapus. It's a Greek word. It means male 
reproductive power in the form of a god. Say, honey, you don't know much 
about sex, do you?" he asked, confidently tightening his hold on her willowy 
waist and pressing his spread hand a little more firmly against the forward 
portion of her sinuously curving hip. She could feel his warm breath 
quickening, playing lightly on her cheek and along the graceful line of her 
white throat. Then, without warning, a shudder seized her as she sensed a 
subtle jerking movement high on her hip, just about where his loins, with 
slowly increasing pressure, touched her side. 

"No, no I don't," she muttered shakily, aware that he was cautiously inching 
his body behind her and, as he moved, sliding his other arm around her 
waist, his hand rubbing softly in a suggestive circular motion. Then his 
other hand, the one that had been on her hip, began to move the same way, 
until both of them were palm-flat on her quivering belly, just below the 
under swell of her lush young breasts. What on earth could she do, she 
wondered frantically, realizing that he was powerful and could abort any 
attempt on her part to break away and run. He might be a maniac, a runaway 
from a mental institution, and if she angered him, he might do her real 
harm. And yet, in the midst of her panic she sensed a tenderness and 
understanding in him . . . even though it was obvious that he was more 
interested in her body than anything else at the moment. 

She gave a little cry when at last his hands touched the bottom-most 
fullness of her ample breasts, and protesting, she strained forward against 
the edge of the table. This seemed to suit him, though, for he grinned and 
pushed his muscular body more firmly against her back, the table preventing 
her from resisting as much. Suddenly his hands reached up to fully cup her 
agitated breasts, squeezing and kneading them like delicious dough under her 
flimsy shirt. Nancy could feel the stranger's thick penis swelling and 
growing, climbing like a hardening rod halfway up her back, the huge base of 
it grinding into her just above the yielding, symmetrical cleavage at the 
top of her smooth young buttocks. An unknown mixture of terror and something 
electric, almost like pleasure, raced through every fiber of her virginal 
body. She must escape she must break free and ride Happy like the wind out 
of that canyon. And never come back. 

As she writhed, pinioned ever more defenselessly between the cruel table 
edge and Frank Summerwell's lust-inflamed body, she caught a brief glimpse 
of the towel that had girdled his hips. It was in a heap on the floor next 
to her feet, and she knew with a fresh rush of panic that now he was 
completely naked. Only her clothing separated their bare flesh! The 
realization sent a flurry of abrupt, almost painfully intense thrills over 
every atom of her skin, but she fought them with her mind as savagely as 
though she were using her thoughts like clubs. Her body was betraying her, 
weakening her, making her feel the strange new sensations that she knew were 
wrong, evil, and certainly dangerous. 

"Oh, please, please, Mr. Summerwell, let me go!" she finally wailed. "Don't 
you know, I'm only fourteen . . . I'm afraid! You mustn't do this! It's 
-it's not right!" 

"What are you afraid of being turned on?" he taunted, his hot breath now 
coming in short panting blasts as he slipped both hands like eager eels 
under her shirt and roughly jerked her bra up over the heaving white globes 
of her breasts. His fingers found the already unbearably hard nipples and 
plucked at them, rolling and pinching them as he held her fast with his 
forearms clamped securely against her ribs. She felt the pink nodules tingle 
and leap to even greater hardness as tiny arrows of pleasure and pain shot 
along her quivering nerves. Her breasts pulsed in time with her heartbeat, 
and she remembered anew that he was completely naked, his rigid, throbbing 
cock pressing insistently against her back like a column of solid iron. Oh 
my God, she thought to herself, it was almost impossible not to let go and 
submit to the shameful manipulations of her body. Never, in all her fourteen 
innocent years, had she experienced such an overpowering temptation to be 
truly evil for the sake of pleasure. 

As though he had been reading her thoughts, Frank dropped one hand from a 
breast and with the speed and efficiency of an expert, hiked the back of her 
shirt up to her shoulder blades, quickly pushing forward again to grind his 
sweat-moistened stomach and the scorching hot length of his giant cock into 
the velvety softness of her tensing back. He did not at once return his free 
hand to her abandoned breast, but worked it between their bodies to pull at 
the hooks of the now exposed bra strap. When he succeeded in loosening the 
useless garment, she gasped aloud as she felt the busy hand yank the 
partially unbuttoned shirt and under-garment off her shoulder, then bend 
back her arm so that they could be slipped down to her elbow. The remaining 
buttons on the bottom of her shirt gave, popping off, and she struggled with 
all her dwindling strength as he pulled the sleeve and shoulder strap over 
the crook of her arm and finally from the clenched ball of her fist. 
Suddenly he made a half step back and, with one swift movement, stripped the 
hanging shirt and bra from her other arm, flaying her upper body of the last 
vestige of modesty. 

She stood there quaking, a sob rising to her throat, as she heard him step 
back even further. An admiring glint was in his eyes as he examined the 
half-naked youth's beautiful back, her long roan-red hair cascading over her 
shoulders almost to the point where her spine disappeared in the furrow that 
ran down to the uppermost crevice of her buttocks. 

"All right, Nancy, turn around," he ordered, but quietly, an unexpected 
calmness in his deep masculine voice. His tone caught her off balance and 
she obediently followed his command, her head down so that their eyes would 
not meet. Frank's eyes drank hungrily from the perfection of the youthful 
form before him. She was even more lovely up close, her remarkable breasts 
prematurely full and succulent, the dark pink nipples unusually large, thus 
all the more exciting, for such a young lass. Jesus, he wanted to fuck her, 
then and there, and take his fill of her never-before-touched charms. And he 
was certain he could, too, since she had begun to respond with the 
unmistakable passion of a highly sexed female. But she was merely a kid, in 
the throes of pubescence, and had to be handled intelligently and not like 
some full-blown slut. Another day or two, he decided, and she would be 
coming to him voluntarily for the bliss of her deflowering. 

Waves of confusion, and even a tinge of disappointment, swarmed through and 
blurred Nancy's brain. In one way, the feeling that he was no longer 
attacking her was comparable to being rejected, and this was even more 
humiliating than what she had just been through while pinned against the 
table. What was wrong with her? she wondered, stooping automatically to 
retrieve her clothes from the floor while she had the chance. Yet she did 
not dress right away and continued to stand there, regarding Frank 
Summerwell's magnificent male body with a look of near regret in her eyes. 
She saw that his thick, heavily-veined penis was now only semi-hard, jutting 
out and slightly downward to one side. 

"I don't understand what happened today," she breathed, leaning forward to 
drop the bounteous expanses of her breasts into the bra cups. Reaching 
behind her, she fastened the hooks but did not move to don her shirt. 
Somehow it seemed ridiculous to cling so tightly to her modesty now. Twice 
today, he had seen her breasts once, all of her, though from a distance and 
moments before he had caressed and rummaged her body. And even though she 
had been terrified within an inch of her life, she could hardly deny that 
his invading hands had set her nerves afire with the beginnings of what she 
guessed would have ultimately been the purest ecstasy. Also, there still 
burned in her rocking brain the memory of his huge, erect male organ, those 
sperm-bloated testicles hanging beneath it a memory she would not soon 
forget. Still, unaccountably, she experienced the sting of rejection, the 
sense of fear that in his eyes she was not really desirable. 

"Listen, Nancy," he began, as though once again interpreting her thoughts, 
"I want you to know how fond I am of you. You're truly a gorgeous girl 
practically a woman, except for the fact that no woman is still a virgin and 
I respect you enough not to force you to . . . to be a real woman." His last 
words were delivered as he walked around her to pick up a pair of 
sun-bleached jeans from the small stack of clothes on the floor next to the 
table. As if to shield her eyes from the sight of his genitalia, he turned 
away from her to thread his feet through the trouser-legs, at last facing 
her again when he had finished dressing. 

"I like you too, Mr. Summerwell . . . Frank," she blurted, not fully 
comprehending the words she spoke. Blushing, she added: "But why can't a 
virgin be a woman, a real woman? I already think of myself as a woman . . . 
a young woman, yes, but a woman." 

"Being a woman isn't just a matter of age or attitude," he explained with an 
air of patient sagacity. "It takes a man, after all is said and done, to 
make a woman. Remember that. . . . But I think you'd better be starting home 
now. I hear the wind rising, and that could mean that there's a sand storm 
brewing down on the flat country you have to cross." 

"Okay, Frank, my father will be worrying about me anyway." She took up her 
shirt and hastily got into it, not bothering to tuck the tails into her 
jeans. She wanted only to get away, to think over what had happened, and yet 
she was also inexplicably reluctant to leave without being certain of his 
real attitude toward her, woman or not. She bestowed upon him the trace of a 
smile as she moved toward the door, and it was then that he closed the 
distance between them with two long strides, snaking his brawny arms around 
her and drawing her tenderly to his chest. She sighed and arched her back to 
receive the poignant, lingering kiss he placed directly on her lush vestal 
lips. 

"I'll be seeing you," he called to her as she mounted Happy and 
pivot-reigned him around to face the canyon exit. Although she neither 
confirmed nor objected to his assumption that she would return, there was a 
thoughtful smile on her face as she rode out of sight of the cabin. 

Frank had been wise to send her home, she mused as she guided Happy through 
the final maze of rocks and brush at the bottom of the foothills: there was 
a windstorm kicking up on the desert. The dunes were beginning to shift in 
shape and she could not look directly into the wind, for it was salted with 
stinging sand that made her eyes water, blinding her a little. In the 
distance, she could see that the sky was murky and yellow off to the right 
of the trail she would follow back to the ranch. But she was not really 
alarmed: she had weathered more than one such storm. And besides, her 
thoughts were mostly still back in the little canyon where, less than an 
hour ago, she had embarked on the first stages of her apprenticeship as a 
woman. 

 CHAPTER 2 

A light snore escaped Mel Leeds's lips as Nancy watched him sleeping heavily 
in the master bedroom of the main ranch house. After her return from the 
Guadalupe Range, she had tiptoed up to her room, showered and changed into 
fresh clothes, then gone in search of her father to offer up an alibi for 
having arrived home so late. Now she was thankful to find him asleep, 
laughing softly at herself for having forgotten, during the months at 
school, that it was his habit to nap for an hour or so after lunch. She 
crept stealthily out of the room and returned to her own, already relishing 
the opportunity she would have to relive the events of that peculiar day in 
private. 

Back in her room, she undressed again, pausing now and again to view herself 
in the full-length mirror on the wall next to her vanity table. Not that she 
was vain or even, up until today, much interested in the feminine attributes 
of her body; it was simply that now the luscious lines and contours of her 
young female curves had become important to her through Frank Summerwell's 
eyes. There was no mistaking that he openly admired her female charms, 
actually drooled while gazing at her breasts and the rich tantalizing swell 
of her hips. And for once, looking at herself realistically, she began to 
understand the attraction her young body had for a man. After all, Frank 
Summerwell was a man, a real man, handsome and lonely, and she had come to 
what he must consider was his territory. But most of all, she was disturbed 
by his remarks on what it took to be a woman. She remembered his words 
explicitly: that no virgin was really a woman, and he had said that only a 
man could transform a girl into a woman. There had been a note of contempt 
in his voice when he had said the word girl, and now she found herself 
smarting at the thought that he regarded her as a mere girl. 

For several months now, she had sensed that she was entering into a new 
cycle in her life. Her rapidly developing young body was playing tricks on 
her, subtle tricks, and often she woke in the morning feeling exhausted and 
with an unexplained moisture between her voluptuous thighs. One night she 
knew she had dreamed of a sleek black snake. She had been dozing, with no 
clothes on, under a tree. The snake had slithered soundlessly onto her 
chest, wakened her, and they had had a conversation followed by kisses and 
dazed endearments. Then the snake had wound itself in shining coils around 
her legs, turning its broad head toward her sparsely haired pubic mound, 
flicking out its crimson forked tongue to tease at her vaginal lips. In the 
morning she had felt the promise of a new freedom, a mysterious buoyancy, 
but had not related the feeling to her dream. 

Now she re-visualized the man called Frank's naked body as she had seen it 
that day in the canyon. She thought especially of his enormous penis, of 
seeing it from a distance, swollen and erect, and of feeling it pressed like 
a scalding yet rubbery staff against the smoothness of her naked back. In 
the past she had not possessed this authority over any of her thoughts 
concerning sex, but now she could recall with exciting clarity every detail 
of his cock yes, why not call it that? (Mel, her dad, did when he talked 
about the studs on the ranch) -and the beautiful and lewdly stimulating 
testicles, like fruit baskets, beneath it. She was actually enjoying these 
pictures in her mind and feared the intrusion of a single thought or idea 
which, inserting itself between these images and the image of herself as a 
proper young lady, might inhibit them, turn them into painful instruments of 
shame and guilt. Before her death, Nancy's mother had instilled in the 
pretty, young girl a sense of decorum that, until now, had successfully 
blocked out any specific imaginings about sex. 

Now, however, her imagination was opening up and she was able to drift 
gradually into sleep, the deep, languorous sleep of limpid sensuality. 

* * * 

"So you rode up to the Guadalupes today, eh? Well, I'm sure as hell glad you 
had enough sense to hightail it home before the storm hit," said Mel Leeds 
to his daughter that evening at dinner. Mel Leeds was a bear of a man, well 
over six feet, and his every movement, as well as the booming sound of his 
voice, conveyed an impression of hugeness. Although Nancy had never been 
really afraid of him, her love of the man was tempered with a solid respect 
for his sheer size and the authority with which he handled the affairs of 
the ranch. 

"Yes, Daddy, I had a dandy ride. And thanks again for Happy he's just 
perfect. I love him!" she enthused, smiling happily as she once again 
thanked her lucky stars for his habit of sleeping after lunch. Then she sat 
for a moment staring at her empty plate with wide eyes, wondering if she 
dare tell him about meeting Frank Summerwell at the pool. Her father might 
question her about the details of the encounter, and she was not certain 
that she could lie successfully. After a moment, an alternative topic for 
conversation came to mind the band of wild horses she had discussed with 
Frank that morning. 

"Say, Daddy, do you really believe that there's a herd of wild horses 
running the Guadalupe Range?" A momentary flash of fear, that he might 
answer no, passed through her, and suddenly she was sorry that she had 
broached the subject. 

"Well now, love," he answered, "I can't rightly say. Ever since we took over 
this place, I've been too damned busy keeping the stock fat for market to 
find out for myself. But Joel Dawson says he's seen them plenty of times 
from a distance. And that goes for other ranchers in this area. Joel says 
the herd's a wary bunch, that you can't get within a quarter mile of them. . 
. . And he's told me they're led by the meanest black bastard of a stallion 
that you ever saw." 

"Did he say the stallion was big?" Nancy asked, her interest rekindling at 
the thought of the mysterious black horse. 

"It's just as I told you, he saw them from pretty far away, so I guess he'd 
have a hard time telling just how big the bugger was. Chances are, though, 
that he's scrub size not much bigger than an over-size pony. Mustangs 
descended from Spanish stock, and they've had a helluva time of it down 
through the years, being chased by ranchers and mountain lions, and having 
to graze on burnt-out grass or whatever they could find. But they've learned 
to be tough and can stand conditions that would kill an ordinary horse in 
nothing flat. . . . 

But how come you're all of a sudden so interested in wild horses? You're 
supposed to be concernin' yourself with books and the English language. 
That's why I'm pay in' through the nose to send you to a good school, 
because you've got your mother's brains and can make sense out of things." 

Nancy's bright lovely face lit up with an affectionate smile and she reached 
across the table to squeeze her father's massive forearm. "How do you know 
I'm not planning to write a book about wild horses?" she said mockingly, her 
green eyes ripening with glee at having posed a question that she knew he 
could not answer. She frequently delighted in drawing him out this way, 
knowing that his male pride would rear up and cause him to launch lengthy 
explanations for the questions he asked. This time, however, he merely 
grunted and leaned forward slightly to stare unflinchingly into her eyes. 
After what seemed an eternity, his gaze dropped to the taut white material 
of the blouse stretched to the breaking point by her bulging bosom. She had 
seen him stare at her that way before, many times since her mother's death, 
and had never known what to make of it. But this time, so soon after the 
eventful morning with Frank, the meaning behind his eyes became clear. He 
was thinking of her sexually! 

"Okay, love, you've got me I don't know whether or not you're planning on 
writing a book. But I can guess that you're not." His gruff voice, normally 
loud, was quieter and almost quavered with male emotion. "As a 
matter-of-fact, that black stud might just interest you the way a healthy 
man interests a healthy woman. . . . That ornery black bastard, with all his 
mares, might just make you think of yourself as female. Hell, you're old 
enough to start thinkin' that way. . . . Ain't nothin' wrong with thinkin' 
of yourself as a woman." 

"Daddy!" she flushed, embarrassed and not a little amazed at the possibility 
that her father might be right. There did seem to be some sort of weird link 
between her musings about the stallion and whatever notions she had about 
herself as a female, all of a sudden desirable to men. . . . But she was 
certainly not foolish enough to think of herself as a mare. Still, there was 
something, some connection she failed to understand. Since that morning in 
the dark interior of Frank Summerwell's cabin, she had found it nearly 
impossible to think of the blonde writer's caresses without soon after 
thinking of the wild band of horses . . . and particularly of the fierce 
stallion. Was the horse a kind of sexual symbol in her young, inexperienced 
mind? . . . 

Then, as they sat there in silence, she was shocked to discover that even in 
the past, when sex seemed the farthest thing from her mind, she had somehow 
compared her father to the studs she had watched mount and furiously ram 
their "cocks" into brood mares. 

"Daddy, hell!" the big man roared in his accustomed voice, his eyes 
twinkling and familiar again. "Despite your momma's bein' a lady and all she 
taught you, you're still female and just as full of natural hankerings as 
anyone else. I'm only try in' to get you to realize it. It ain't wrong to 
think about sex . . . and any time you want to come to me . . . to talk 
about it . . . you can feel free to. You understand?" 

"Of course, Daddy, but about the stallion . . . " Her voice trailed off with 
the uncertainty of what she was going to say next to the towering man across 
the table. 

"Besides that," he barked, "it's no damned secret that you're already 
equipped with more than enough of what it takes to be a hot little item in 
the right man's bed. All right, I know this sounds mighty bold to you, but 
don't be silly and bolt before you stop to mull over what I'm sayin'. . . . 
If something happens I mean if you happen to get in a dither and land up 
under some good-lookin' boy for Christ's sake don't get caught and come home 
in foal. If you're gonna have fun, be careful, that's all." 

"Okay, Daddy, if that ever happens, I'll remember what you've said." Then, 
changing the subject for her own relief, she asked if he would mind if she 
spent most of the following day riding Happy up in the Guadalupes. 

"Sure, go ahead," Mel Leeds said benevolently. "That's what vacations are 
for. . . . Just be careful of snakes and storms, that's all I ask." 

"I'll be careful," she assured. "Who knows, maybe if I ride along quietly 
and keep in the shadows, I'll catch sight of the wild ones." 

"Maybe," he said as he drained off the tankard of beer that he always had 
with dinner, no matter what the fare. Laughing, he added: "But don't let 
that black stallion catch you. You never can tell, he might work up. a yen 
for a pretty girl like you." His statement provoked a shudder in her, a 
tremor caused as much by a dark fear as by tiny nervous surges of 
instinctive fascination with her father's warning. 

Later, as she prepared for bed, Nancy took extra care at brushing her hair 
and even spent the better part of an hour manicuring her nails. There was no 
sense kidding herself: she definitely planned on riding up to that man 
Frank's cabin the next day. He would probably think that her appearance 
there was a blatant invitation for more of what had happened that morning. 
And perhaps he would not be far from wrong; she was not exactly sure of her 
motives for wanting to see him again. One thing she knew, even if he was 
over twenty years older than she, and a complete stranger, she could not 
tolerate his thinking of her as a mere girl! 

 CHAPTER 3 

Everything was going wrong. Nancy had risen at seven o'clock the next 
morning, showered, dressed in brand new riding clothes, had a hearty 
breakfast, and had gone out with a high heart to saddle up Happy. On the way 
to the corral, though, she met one of her father's ranch-hands and learned 
that most of the riding stock had been spooked by the storm during the 
night. The high-strung horses had panicked and broken out of the remuda 
corral as well as several stalls reserved for the family's private mounts. 
Happy was one of those missing. On top of that, to make matters worse, her 
father had found her and forbidden her to leave the ranch under any 
circumstances, even on another mount, until the weather report was available 
on the local radio station. 

It was not until nearly noon, several hours after she had skulked off to her 
room to read and contemplate her rotten luck, that Mel Leeds knocked on the 
door to her bedroom and asked if she was presentable. 

"Okay, love, don't fret," he grinned as he entered and stopped at the foot 
of her bed. "The boys brought in most of the horses. Happy's in his stall, 
and I've heard on the radio that the weather's clear for a few days. So go 
on out and find your goddamned black stallion, but mind me, if you're not 
back here before dark, I'll ground your sexy little hind end for the rest of 
the summer. Is it a deal?" 

Jumping up from the bed with an expression of astonished relief, Nancy ran 
to the big man, hugged him, and flew out the door without a single word. 

* * * 

The journey across the flat lands and up into the hills had been easy, Nancy 
thought as she and Happy entered the mouth of the small red canyon. Her 
heart was thumping crazily in anticipation of facing Frank, and it was all 
she could manage to keep from turning around to avoid the dreaded 
confrontation, one she realized could drastically change the course of her 
life. However, instead of fleeing, she urged Happy into a trot to hasten her 
arrival and so cut short her anxiety. She rode around the last bend and up 
to the clearing in front of the cabin with her jaw set, her face as 
expressionless as that of a truly brave man climbing the steps to a gallows. 

Reigning Happy to a stop, she dismounted and looked about the place for some 
sign of Frank's presence. Good Lord, what, if after all her crazy dread and 
anticipation, he was not to be found? What if he had decided to wander off 
for the day? Just then her ears picked up the sound of a typewriter clicking 
away inside the cabin, a sound that both relieved and frightened her. 
Checking the last-minute impulse to sneak away and come another time, when 
she was more self-assured, she strode briskly up to the door and rapped 
lightly. As there was no response from within, she knocked harder and more 
insistently. Suddenly the door flew open and there was Frank, dressed in 
shorts, an expression of surprise on his face changing to obvious pleasure 
when he recognized her. Saying nothing, he stood back and waved his hand 
inward in a flourish of invitation. 

"I I hope you don't mind my stopping by for a moment," Nancy stammered in 
embarrassment, her courage suddenly changing to doubt. "I was just riding 
by." The knowing smile that flooded his face triggered her own smile, and in 
the next instant they both were bent double with laughter, sharing the 
unspoken joke. When their chuckles subsided, Frank took her arm and led her 
to the chair in front of the desk. 

"All right, my little desert nymph, sit down and tell me all about where you 
were going . . . when you just happened to drop by for a minute." He was 
still beaming widely as he ran his eyes up and down her form, drinking in 
every curve and swell of her youthful anatomy just as he had the day before. 

"To tell you the truth," Nancy giggled, "I wanted to talk over your silly 
article about teenage girls . . . It's really veddy, veddy serious, you 
know, but I think it needs some important changes to make it worthwhile to 
your readers." 

"I think you need an important change, Nancy. I think you need to be changed 
from a girl to a woman. Don't you agree?" he asked, his voice a mixture of 
spoof and sincerity. She knew what he was talking about, of course, but 
could not bring herself to openly acknowledge that she knew what he meant. 
She attempted to divert him by pointing to the typewriter and saying: 

"I heard you typing. Are you working on something new? A poem? A short 
story? . . . Another article?" But he ignored her tactic and held his eyes 
locked on her lush young form, undressing her with his mind as she squirmed 
uncomfortably in the crude chair. It was a showdown, she decided, to see if 
she could hold up a test he had devised. But his facial features were all 
too convincingly tense, as though they had been drawn tight by wires under 
the surface of the skin, to permit her to relax in the belief that he was 
simply exploring the extent of her courage. 

"Nancy, it's true, isn't it, that yesterday was the first time you ever saw 
a man with his cock hard?" He paused for a moment, allowing his words to 
sink in, to register fully in the delicious redheaded nymph's mind. Then, 
lowering his voice an octave, he went on: "And you thought about my cock 
last night, didn't you, Nancy? You thought of what it would be like to touch 
it and have it inside you . . . to become a woman." 

"Frank Mr. Summerwell you shouldn't . . . you mustn't say such things," she 
whispered, turning her face away to hide the pink glow of humiliation that 
she felt coloring her cheeks. 

"DIDN'T YOU!? " he insisted, advancing a step. 

"Yes . . . yes, I did," she admitted in a barely audible voice, "but I 
didn't want to . . . I--I couldn't help it. It--it just happened. It was the 
first time. Yes, you're right, it was something I'd never seen before and 
yes, I couldn't help but think of what it's really like . . . to touch." She 
was further humiliated by the admission she had made and wanted somehow to 
disappear between the narrow cracks in the plank floor. Her mind roiled with 
regret as she wished she could unsay everything and undo these last two days 
just be the innocent bookworm she had been back at school, before vacation. 

Frank came another step closer and was standing beside the chair, but she 
was too psychologically beaten to be put on her guard by his nearness. She 
did not even flinch when he placed his bronzed hand on her shoulder and 
began to massage it, gently and with sympathetic tenderness. Sensing his 
softness, she nuzzled her head against his hand and was pleased with its 
comforting warmth, its strength and the puzzling glow of satisfaction that 
came from the contact between them. 

"You know, honey," Frank said almost matter-of-factly as he moved his big 
hand slowly from her narrow shoulder to trace his fingertips lightly 
teasingly over the fragile ivory skin at the base of her slender throat, "I 
think you came back here today to discover what it is to be a woman. And I'm 
glad you did, for my own sake, because I've been yearning for a woman . . . 
especially a delicious young morsel like you. You're lucky, too, that you 
have someone like me to break you in right. Otherwise, you probably would've 
gotten your first fucking from some clumsy high school kid . . . some punk 
who wouldn't know even the basics, let alone the fine points, of fucking." 

Nancy winced inwardly at his use of the obscene word, a word not even her 
father used in front of her. Her mind was ablaze with thoughts that would 
not focus. And she could not stop the sudden tingling warmth that the ever 
more daring explorations of his fingertips were creating in the pit of her 
stomach. His hand had half disappeared down the open vee of her 
still-buttoned blouse, and now he was inserting two fingers in the deep 
cleavage between her full creamy breasts. Still seated, she was positioned 
so that his groin was less than a foot from her face, and she watched, 
fascinated, as his cock began to swell and jerk to semi-attention under the 
restraining fabric of his khaki shorts. She could see that a small wet spot 
at the end of the trapped shaft was beginning to spread out concentrically 
on the material, mushrooming. 

She sat motionless, completely frozen as he unbuttoned her blouse with one 
hand and reached under her hair with the other, his fingers again playing a 
light tracing game along the nerves at the top of her spine, causing tiny 
shivers of delight to run over her back like invisible satin feet. 
Meanwhile, he deftly peeled the blouse from her shoulders and, with the hand 
at the back of her neck, pushed her forward so that he could slip the flimsy 
garment down her arms and off. 

"Stand up, honey, I want to kiss you," he said huskily, taking her bare arm 
to help her to her feet, then crushing her to him for an endless, fevered 
kiss that flattened and bruised her lips. He was becoming impatient now, she 
knew, and his cock throbbed like a thick wild nerve against her belly. Her 
own senses were reeling as well, dangerously close to the edge, the point of 
no return, her wide-open eyes showing a mixture of feelings fear and 
humiliation and pleasure. She felt her arms encircle his wonderfully warm, 
heavily-muscled back, as though they had a will of their own, endorsing 
their passionate embrace with a burst of strength that she never knew she 
had. 

Finally, long moments later, Frank disengaged himself from her and stepped 
back, his fingers working frantically at the fly of his shorts. He slid them 
off his hips and down to his knees, his long, thick prick springing into 
view and quivering like a wild animal suddenly released from its cage. Nancy 
uttered a little cry at the sight of the incredibly huge member, her heart 
skipping several beats as she stared in awe at the menacing pole with its 
spreading blood-engorged head. She had never seen anything so formidable, 
had never believed that a man could put anything so thick and long into a 
woman without killing her. He knew what she was thinking, exactly the same 
thing other women in his amorous past had thought when they first caught 
sight of the size of his penis. Bending over, he slipped the shorts over his 
feet and turned to face her with a lewd grin on his lips, slowly beginning 
to stroke the heavy uncircumcised foreskin of the hardened rod back and 
forth. Seeing the shock register on her face, he smiled, obviously enjoying 
the cruel torment he was subjecting her to. 

"What do you think of that, Nancy?" he asked, a faint glint growing in his 
eyes like a hot burning ember glowing in the fire. "I'll bet your little 
boyfriends don't have anything like that to run between your legs. . . . 
Okay, honey, it's time you got undressed so we can get down to business." 

Obediently, as though mesmerized, she responded to his command and stepped 
back without looking to sit in the room's solitary chair. After she had 
struggled out of her boots and socks, she rose and unzipped the fly of her 
riding britches, squirming as she tugged them down over her milky 
symmetrical hips to her ankles, then stepping out of them. She was wearing 
pale blue panties, bikini size, and he felt his cock lurch to greater 
tautness when he beheld the faint line of auburn-colored pubic hair running 
up to a tapering point on her enticingly rounded little tummy. The snaps of 
her brassiere came next and she heard him mutter faintly as she lowered her 
hands from her back and shrugged out of the garment and dropped it, her 
magnificent white breasts bursting free into the open air. He dropped to his 
knees in front of her as she stood trembling in fear and anticipation above 
him, hooking his fingers in the elastic waist band of her silk panties and 
pulling them slowly down over the smooth young curves of her full, rounded 
buttocks, at last letting the garment drop at her feet like a skimpy, 
deflated parachute. She was completely naked. 

Still trembling, she stood before him like an innocent Aphrodite about to be 
sacrificed on the altar of love, her flawlessly smooth skin glowing with 
whiteness in the dim light. Frank remained on his knees in front of her, 
panting like a bull about to charge toward a conquest. Suddenly he moved 
forward, grasping her resilient young ass-cheeks with both hands, and she 
felt his lips pressing wetly into the naked flesh of her stomach. The 
unexpected hot contact sent chills racing through her and her blood began to 
burst in her veins like bubbles of oxygen exploding. The surprise of his 
touch caused her to sway precariously and she automatically reached forward 
with her hands, locking them in his hair to keep from toppling over. 
Mistaking this as encouragement, he dropped his mouth to the little hillock 
of her loins, spreading the sparse young pubic hair with his thumbs and 
flicking out his tongue to dart into the slightly moistened split of her 
vagina, the pointed pink tip of his spear coming into electrifying contact 
with the solid tiny bud of her clitoris. 

Then, walking on his knees, he guided her backwards toward the lumpy 
mattress waiting in the corner. Moving as though floating, she finally felt 
the edge catch her mid-calf and she sprawled flat on her back, her legs 
flying open as she fell. He leaped forward and pinned her in that position 
as she struggled to roll away to the far side of the bed. But he was adamant 
and clamped his sweating palms against the soft insides of her thighs and 
held her fast. Legs splayed wide apart and eyes now opened wide in a sudden 
abject panic, she attempted to scream and plead with him just to do it to 
her the right way but managed only a dry-throated gurgling sound. She had 
suddenly changed her mind but was hopelessly trapped, at his mercy now, and 
she knew that he could do it to her anyway he wanted to. She could see him 
hunched on all fours down between her wide-spread thighs, grinning up at her 
between her firm young breasts like a hungry lecher preparing to devour its 
helpless, captured victim. The pink moist flesh of her naked vagina was 
exposed and offered up to his leering face like an offering to the gods. She 
lay petrified on the mattress, her heart beating like an engine out of 
control, as she watched his tongue slowly circling his lips in greedy 
anticipation of the naked feast spread before him. Even in her fear of the 
perversion he was committing, Nancy was amazed at the dramatic satanic 
change that had come over the man. He had changed from a gentle, considerate 
man to a hungry beast in less than five minutes. 

Her thoughts still muddled, she felt him place his palms flat against the 
inner softness of her thighs, his thumbs resting on the tender fleshy 
flanges of her cunt. With a slow torturing outward movement, he drew the 
moist, now slightly pulsating lips apart and submitted the wet pink slit to 
the mercy of his gaze. He watched it greedily for a moment and then with a 
low groan, dropped his head and buried the full length of his long slippery 
tongue like an intrusive snake into the warm confines of her outer pussy 
walls. She bucked upwards, a girlish moan escaping from deep in her chest. 
Her buttocks ground down into the mattress as she tried to elude the 
depraved assault on the secret place down between her open legs. 

"Oooooh, pleeease! Ooooh!" she whimpered pitifully as he wormed his searing 
tongue more and more boldly and ferociously into her tiny, excitedly 
quivering vaginal mouth. She had lifted her head up off the mattress and was 
peering down between her breasts and watching him in astonishment and 
disbelief, her adolescent mind unable to fully fathom the deliciously 
sensuous feelings rippling through her virginal body. And still his head 
rocked wildly up and down as he licked and sucked at her defensively 
cringing young cunt, tasting the rising female moisture that was beginning 
to mix with his own saliva and with the perspiration trickling onto her 
pubic triangle from his face. 

"God no, it can't be happening like this," she groaned over and over to 
herself in wonder and humiliation, her head falling back on the mattress and 
flailing helplessly from side to side as his tongue flicked in and out of 
the involuntarily dilating lips of her hair-lined pussy. Yet, despite her 
horror and disgust at the terrible things being done to her exposed 
genitals, sudden wisps of shameful pleasure began to rise in her sensitive 
nerves, just as before when he had violated the privacy of her body. Her 
arms lay tensed at her sides as her white, naked young breasts began to 
quiver from the buffeting of his head up between her open thighs. His hands 
climbed up over the soft white flatness of her belly and harshly seized the 
cream-white flesh of the twin bulges, his fingers rolling the pebble-hard 
nipples between them in unrelenting fury. As his mouth and tongue worked 
maddeningly in wet determination at the virginal tightness of her cunt, his 
eyes remained opened wide, watching with demon-like delight the humiliating 
contortions of her face above the deep valley of her breasts. 

Nancy lay paralyzed in defenseless submission to the ravenous outrages he 
was subjecting her naked loins to. There was nothing she could do, and he 
was defiling her as she had never thought possible, humiliating her beyond 
her wildest imagination. She had heard only in giggling whispers of this 
before and felt certain that her soul was forever soiled by the horrible, 
perverted act. Still, though, she was losing the battle she was waging with 
her mind against the traitorous sensations of pleasure that, more and more, 
were possessing her. She was catching fire, as if somewhere an invisible 
burning glass had been playing on her without her being aware. Her cheeks 
and the area just below her throat were rosy, as though touched with rouge, 
and gave her an inflamed look which hardly matched the glazed, unseeing 
character of her eyes. As new waves of pleasure washed through her, she 
moaned, stretching and placing her arms behind her head, pushing back the 
helmet of red hair which was lit by a watery shaft of light streaming in the 
window. 

Frank's eyes were still fastened on her shamefully contorted face as he 
continued the torturing thrusts of his tongue into her vagina. 

Chuckling like a demented devil, he brought his hands down from her breasts 
and pushed them under the backs of her knees, his wide shoulders and upper 
arms prying her legs even further apart. He lifted and pushed them up and 
over her body so that the kneecaps were crushed into her breasts, exposing 
the entire flat plane of her naked loins to his lust-mad eyes. This would 
surprise the little bitch, he grinned to himself, and flicked out the end of 
his tongue into the tightly-puckered hole of her anus nestling just below 
the moist cuntal opening. 

"Oh God, no, no, don't! Noooo!" she begged, trying desperately to wiggle her 
buttocks away from the hot invading tongue licking without mercy at her 
asshole. But he continued the lewd attack, not hearing, not caring as he 
stabbed into the elastically contracting rectal passage. Nancy was out of 
her mind, fighting and yet reacting to the delicious growth of pleasure 
caused by the unnatural invasion, her buttocks screwing back against her 
will at the darting tongue. Suddenly nothing else counted, nothing but the 
beautiful spasms of ecstasy that made her jerk and writhe like some wanton 
slut aching to get her fill of sex. 

"Okay, honey, now it's time to make you a real woman," he rasped, climbing 
hurriedly up to hover over her prostrate form, grinning obscenely at her as 
he reached out with both hands and once more grasped her heaving tits, using 
them like handles to lever himself all the way up onto the crude bed. 

Then, removing one hand, he reached down between her legs and felt the soft 
protecting folds of delicate young pussy flesh surrounding her vagina. His 
fingers searched almost patiently for a moment, and then found their velvety 
quarry. She flinched at his initial touch, the soft resilient cheeks of her 
buttocks hardening and clenching tightly together, thus imprisoning his hand 
between her thighs. Frank swore and pushed his hand forward to break the 
viselike lock that her thighs had on him, giving one last rude push with his 
forearm. 

She felt the last of her strength, born of sudden fear and desperation, give 
way. She trembled uncontrollably, biting her lip in a vain attempt to drown 
out the pain as his finger wormed its way into the now wet and open cuntal 
entrance. The finger moved around inside her in steadily widening circles, 
inching deeper and deeper into her. Finally, with a slight pop of the thin 
membrane of her maidenhead, he slipped into her all the way past the second 
knuckle. She opened her mouth to scream from the flash of pain, but nothing 
came. Instead, she groaned exhaustedly, jerking her head to one side on the 
mattress and closing her eyes to escape his leering gaze. She was surprised 
that the pain was already ebbing away and she felt inclined to protest the 
teasing cruelties he was heaping upon her helpless body. 

She was even more amazed when she unquestioningly followed his orders to 
open her legs wider apart. All this was unreal it was a dream, a nightmare 
of carnality, she thought as she opened her eyes cautiously to watch him 
take his great prick and place the distended head at the tiny, moist pink 
mouth of her pussy lips. Oh my God, she cringed, it was too big! He would 
never fit! She would be split up the middle, ruined! 

"Hold on, baby, I'll try to take it easy," he comforted, the maniacal sneer 
still on his face as he began to slowly rotate the cock-head around the 
tiny, bearded portal of her cunt, parting the sparse young pubic hair to 
grant himself easier access. Then, with a gentleness she did not expect, he 
began to apply pressure, the soft rubbery flesh cunt lips spreading easily 
at first as the tip of the huge cock barely penetrated her. Again, he 
pressed forward, slowly, gently against the warm fleshy resistance, until 
she felt the first pangs of excruciating pain searing through her helplessly 
spread body. She nearly lost all consciousness as she experienced the 
agonizing pressure, building, building. And then another inch sank in, and 
then another, cruelly stretching the tight rubbery opening until she was 
convinced that she would die from the pain. 

Suddenly he thrust his hips forward, uncaring, sending his long, thick 
glistening rod sliding into her tight little cunt with a roaring anger, 
pushing the soft resisting flesh of her vaginal walls in rippling waves 
before it. It drove deeply into her, not stopping until his bloated balls 
smacked like a resounding gunshot against the upturned cheeks of her naked 
ass. She was left gasping for breath, enough to scream, enough to die. Her 
eyes opened wide as did her mouth, her face now bloodless as she suffered 
beneath this monster of a man. 

"Aaaaagggghhh! Ooooh Gooood, nooooo!" she screamed at last, feeling certain 
that she was dying, her no longer innocent cunt ripped into what must be a 
thousand shreds. She had never been so filled by anything in her life . . . 
nothing had ever been such torture. 

He lay still for a moment, soaking the entire length of his massive cock in 
the moist, ravaged channel. She also lay immobile, hoping that her stillness 
would alleviate the pain. She could feel every tiny ridge of flesh on his 
penis, and cried out when he flexed it inside her, her brain a seething mass 
of white-hot fire and incoherency. Reflexively, she tensed her inner thigh 
muscles tightly together in an attempt to ease the abusive invasion of the 
big prick, but the throb and contraction of her pussy walls served only to 
taunt the probing shaft more and he pulled her closer to him, sinking the 
horrible thing even deeper in her belly. She could feel the blunt hard head 
nudging against her cervix, sending out unwanted jolts of electric warmth to 
her womb and up into the nerve-endings all over her body. Again he flexed 
the thick knob at the end of his buried cock, this time withdrawing it 
halfway from her vagina, causing her to utter a choking sound as her hot 
cunt clenched defensively around the hardened male pole. Gradually he eased 
it forward again, then out, lengthening the stroke this time. And then she 
felt him begin a steady pumping motion, all the way in and almost all the 
way out, the now thinly-stretched cuntal lips pulling out nearly two inches 
on the back-stroke, then virtually submerging inside her own cunt as they 
clung to the ramming cock on the in-stroke. 

He knew now that she would soon be on the verge of surrender; he knew that 
even she realized that she could not escape the inevitable. She was his 
slave, this fourteen-year-old girl who had dared to give in to her curiosity 
and had come back to his cabin to play with fire. 

Glancing down at the granite-hard rod filling her to the bursting point, he 
saw the traces of bright hymeneal blood blending with her cuntal secretions 
and shining like victory on the visible portion of his cock as he withdrew 
it in preparation for another lunge into her dilated young pussy hole. Yes, 
now she knew how foolish it was to play games with a real man, especially a 
lonely, womanless man. 

Nancy's body began to react differently to the pummeling, the pain lessening 
with each smack of the softness of his hair-covered balls against her naked 
buttocks. There was no longer any reason to fight the lewd feelings of 
desire coursing through her veins. She had lost in her struggle against the 
obscene sensations, and even the thought of her total submission sent fresh 
thrills through her as she basked in the rhythm of Frank Summerwell's 
lust-hardened cock skewering into her without mercy. Her whole body writhed 
and twitched beneath him. He was breathing faster, gulping for air, as the 
tempo of his thrusts increased to that of a maniacal frenzy, his 
heavy-lidded eyes filmed over with the force of his sexual transport. The 
insanity of animal lust raged like a tornado in his slamming groin and he 
too was aware of nothing else in the world but the fact that a beautiful, 
full-bodied teenage girl was responding to his fucking, writhing and turning 
in ecstasy under him. Spurred on by Nancy's pitching body and the way she 
had begun to kick with her heels against his back, he dug more deeply into 
her, pinning her flatter to the mattress and restricting her movements until 
she thought she would go thoroughly mad unless she could move with him as 
freely as she wanted. 

With his every solid forward lunge now, he jarred her entire body, pushing 
it ahead, and her tossing mane of hair was close to the wall. He felt his 
own head touch the rough, rocky surface and automatically raised himself 
over her in a push-up position, his hands dropping from her flushed, 
jiggling tits to seize her ankles and pry them farther apart and level with 
her upper torso for the leverage he needed. His sun-bronzed body was now a 
ball of sheer uncontrolled passion that had unleashed itself completely 
against the squirming, beautifully tender flesh mingling with his own. He 
could feel his heated cock growing thicker and thicker up in her young 
quivering belly, as he ground savagely into her with a wave of sadistic 
delight flashing across and lighting his contorted facial features. He had 
never had anything this young before, nothing this innocent and tender and 
helpless, and it was goading him on to heights of lustful savagery unknown 
even to him. His thick, inflated penis ached and throbbed as it never had. 

"How do you like it, honey? . . . Do you like . . . my big cock . . . 
fucking . . . into your cunt?" he managed to ask, spitting out the words 
between gulpings for air as he delivered a series of extra hard strokes 
between her wide-spread legs. He wanted to reduce her completely to his 
will, in mind as well as in body. 

"I . . . oh, yes," she hissed, ashamed of admitting it and humiliated by his 
crudeness . . . and yet afraid of offending him lest she lose the bliss of 
having his huge penis inside her throbbing vaginal cavern. 

"Then say it. . . . Say . . . you like . . . my big cock," he snarled 
contemptuously, still panting. 

"I like this. . . . It's beautiful . . . " she hedged, unable to say what he 
wanted. 

"Goddammit! Say it!" 

"Ooooh, no, no, I can't," she cried, a pleading look in her glazed green 
eyes. "I can't say . . . such things. . . . Please don't make me!" 

She fought with all her strength and the courage of her young years to 
muster the words he wanted, demanded her to say. But it was impossible . . . 
at least she thought so until suddenly he abruptly stopped pumping into her 
and she groaned at the loss of the wonderful new sensation. 

"Say it!" he shouted. 

"Oh yes, yessss, I love . . . your big cock fucking me . . . fucking me . . 
. filling my . . . my cunt," she finally gasped, lifting up her smooth white 
loins to receive the delicious reward of his thrusts again. She was ashamed 
but not enough to refuse him, not enough to forfeit the joy of having his 
massive male cock inside her -a joy that now she wondered how she had lived 
without until now. He did not disappoint her either, but renewed his fucking 
motions with more zest and wildness than even before. Then, pulling her back 
to the center of the mattress, he reached down and cupped the twin globes of 
her ass, stretching them open, as faint mewls of female, servile acceptance 
issued from her chest in breathless torrents, her face wrung with craving, 
mouth open, neck straining, nostrils flaring, a light sweat breaking out on 
her brow and causing tendrils of her red hair to cling, as though pasted, to 
her temples. 

Frank slaved over her, his slave, as hypnotized as she was by the cadenced 
slap of his balls against the unprotected crevice of her ass. He smiled to 
himself at the thought of further conquering this hot, teenage little bitch 
toiling beneath him, and slid his fingers over the taut skin of her 
buttocks, finding the tiny brown-ringed anal hole where it puckered and 
worked below in rhythm to his pistoning cock. 

It was soft and warm, forbidden, and he pushed into it with one finger, 
quickly, surprising her just as he had with his tongue. The soft flesh 
yielded and his finger slipped inside, further and further, until he heard 
her cries of protest and subjugation change perceptibly to moans of pleasure 
as her tiny virginal rectum became accustomed to the perverted explorations 
of his digital spear. A diabolical smile crossed his face as he felt her 
begin screwing the tiny tight mouth back on his finger, impaling herself 
between the gigantic cock in her pussy and the bold appendage in her 
hindmost orifice. He moved his other hand to where his cock was rampaging in 
and out of her pussy and could feel the soft hair-lined flanges clasping 
desperately to his hardness. He fondled and played with the billowing lips 
of her cunt where he entered her, and speeded up his strokes, hot and 
rampaging and deep, until he sensed the approach of her climax, the rosy hue 
on her face brightening and deepening as an unmistakable sign. 

"Fuck faster! Fuck harder! Oh, pleeeease!" she moaned, her face changing 
into an unrecognizable mask of frantic, insane passion as she bucked harder 
and faster herself, her hands darting behind his driving buttocks to pull 
him as far as humanly possible into her open thighs. 

"Oh, Frank, I can't help it, I'm going crazy! Something's happening! . . . 
Oh, oh, ooooooohhh!" she half screamed in a voice shrill with mind-reeling 
rapture. Her cum juice flowed wetly out around his still driving prick, 
spilling down into the dark, clenching furrow of her buttocks and flooding 
his testicles and the base of his cock as he drubbed unrelentingly into her. 
Dazzling flashes of light filled her head as she continued to groan out her 
first orgasm, her juices still flowing in unchecked gushes down the full 
quivering moons of her thrashing buttocks. She was a mass of exquisite 
moisture in her groin, and she felt nothing but the grand experience of 
total release, a soaring soul-sapping burst of sexual energy that occurred 
again and again, seeming as though it would never end. 

Frank could also feel his hot load building up for an earth-shattering 
release, the broad thick head of his cock flexing and expanding inside her 
brutalized vaginal tunnel. He wanted her to remember this first fuck for the 
rest of her life and gathered himself to make the last jack-hammering 
onslaught of goring strokes the ones she would think of most. Then, unable 
to contain himself a second longer, he erupted, his hot thick liquid 
shooting deep into the recesses of her womb, mixing lewdly with the wetness 
of her own cumming. Her head whirled in mindless sensuality as the scalding 
powerful squirts surged deeply inside her, filling her to overflowing with 
its sticky whiteness. The hot slippery walls of her pussy clasped and 
unclasped, milking at the jerking organ like a sucking, starving mouth . . . 
until, at last, he collapsed on her sweating, exhausted form like a lifeless 
hulk. 

Breathing thickly from their exertions, they lay still, his rapidly 
deflating penis still tightly encased by her sperm-flooded cunt. Finally, 
calling on the last reserves of his strength, he lifted himself and rolled 
off her, his cock withdrawing from her vaginal opening with a slight moist 
pop that sounded like a far distant cannon going off in the quiet dimness of 
the cabin. Nancy sighed regretfully at the loss and felt a cool rush of air 
play over her exhausted body, drying the beads and smears of perspiration. 
After a long moment, she drew away from Frank, far enough to allow her room 
to turn over on her stomach and rest her head on her folded arms, her eyes 
staring outward toward nothing. Gradually, her sense of reality returning, 
she realized that it was raining outside. She listened dreamily to the soft 
patter of raindrops on the roof, like a tranquil lullaby, and smiled at her 
own astonishment that, despite what she had done, the world was still 
functioning just as ever. . . . The obscene things that had happened to her 
had not altered the workings of nature. This thought somehow amused her, 
perhaps because now she better understood herself in relation to nature . . 
. as a woman. 

Turning her head, she saw that Frank, the man she had hated and thought of 
as a selfish beast when he was kissing her down between her legs a few short 
minutes ago, was sound asleep at her side. Now, she felt no anger toward 
him. He had freed her from her juvenile self, helped her take the first big 
step toward becoming a mature person, a real woman. She was filled with 
warmth, a kind of love, toward him, and she leaned over to kiss him lightly 
on his flat firm stomach before she eased carefully off the mattress and 
crossed to the table to find her clothes. 

A short while later, as she and Happy plodded slowly through the shadowy 
corridor of the canyon, the rain stopped and she could see the sun peeking 
out from behind a mass of clouds, beginning to burn through the steel gray 
hue of the sky and illuminate the striking mineral reds and blues of the 
rocks around her. It was like an omen to her, that she had finished living 
the darkness and ignorance of youth and was now entering into an adult world 
which she could help control . . . with her beauty just as much as her mind. 

 CHAPTER 4 

"Oh yeah, Nancy's just fine and prettier than ever," Mel Leeds assured Joel 
and Lucy Dawson, the smile on his face like a parental swagger as he lifted 
his full glass of raw whiskey to his mouth. As often happened when Mel came 
to Pinon, the small New Mexico town he used as a kind of trading post, he 
had met Joel and Lucy in the Sandalwood Saloon, and the trio had repaired to 
a corner booth for a session of idle chitchat and hard drinking. Joel was 
also a rancher, about fifty, a successful man and well known in the area. 
Lucy, his wife, was a raven-haired, blue-eyed Amazon who was an attractive 
thirty-five and rumored to be an easy lay, even though she was in every 
other sense thoroughly devoted to her husband. Mel remembered the times she 
had drunk too much at parties and invited him, in front of everyone, 
including Joel, to enjoy a romp in the sack with her. Mel had always 
declined, of course, because Joel was his best friend . . . not to mention 
the fact that there had never been any real opportunity to slip away, 
gracefully, undetected by Joel, and take the promiscuous, hot-blooded woman 
up on her offer. 

"Say, Mel, how old is that sexy little filly of yours?" Joel asked with more 
than just casual interest. As almost everyone knew, he was no purer than his 
wife when it came to appreciating the various charms of the opposite sex. 
Once, several years before, Lucy had become altogether soused and spilled 
the beans about her husband's attack on one of the young babysitters they 
had hired to tend their children while the couple attended a party. 
Evidently Joel had disappeared from the party and driven home, as he later 
told it, "to check up on the kids." He had arrived home drunk and offered 
the frightened girl a sum of money to go to bed with him. When she refused, 
he "attacked" her. Additional details were never available, for obviously 
the girl's parents were not opposed to accepting hush money, and so the 
matter was thereafter shrouded with mystery. 

"Well, she's fourteen now, going on fifteen," Mel answered, "but you'd never 
guess it from lookin' at her. Damned if she doesn't look like a grown woman 
these days, all curves and with a spicy glint in her eyes. You know, if I 
didn't know better, I'd say she's already been up in the loft with some 
young buck. Anyway, I'll bet she's startin' to think about it." 

Mel's whiskey was talking, but his words were a mild shock to Lucy, who 
normally was the first to rise to any conversation that even remotely 
concerned sex. Now, however, she thought it crude and unjust that Mel should 
talk about his own daughter in such blatantly erotic terms especially when 
the girl was not around to defend herself. . . . And besides, Nancy was just 
a kid, a pretty little teenager who had probably not even begun to think 
about sex except in the most romantic way. 

On the other hand, Joel listened intently to Mel's speculations, a queer 
blind smile on the older man's face as he remembered the last time he had 
seen Nancy. . . . As far as he was concerned, the ravishing young redhead 
was ripe for plucking, and even though he was no spring chicken, he 
certainly would not mind having a crack at her himself. Just the thought of 
it made his prick lurch and begin to throb in the confines of his trousers. 
Then his memory carried him back to the trouble with the babysitter, a lush 
little number about the same age as Nancy was now. Jesus, he had been hot to 
fuck that sweet teenage bitch; and he might have been able to, too, had he 
not been pie-eyed and so damned anxious to rush things. Well, that was water 
under the bridge, so to speak, and now was now. It was considerably less 
painful, and more exciting, to contemplate what Mel had said about Nancy. 

"Hey, you two, I've got an idea," Mel said, breaking into their thoughts. 
"Why don't we all go over to my place and have a few drinks of that 
firewater I picked up in San Francisco last year? You can say hello to 
Nancy, and later, we'll have some real steaks some Leeds Ranch beef, the 
best in the state!" 

"Gee, Mel, I don't know," Lucy demurred, realizing that these seemingly 
innocent get-togethers usually resulted in their staying the night . . . 
after six or seven hours of drinking straight whiskey, loud although 
harmless arguments, and in the morning, monumental hangovers. 

"Hell yes, we'd be pleased to guzzle some of your cheap booze," Joel 
enthused kiddingly, "and we'll even choke down some of your wormy beef. And 
as for Nancy, it'll be interesting to see if she's learned anything at that 
imagine school you send her to. Sure, we'll accept your invitation." 

"Joel, I -" Lucy began. 

"Dammit, woman, I've never heard you turn down a free drink before," Joel 
broke in, annoyed at his wife's reluctance to contribute to the spirit of 
the prospective party. "Anyhow, you know damned well that Mel's got the 
ruggedest, most handsome lot of hired hands anywhere around here. You can't 
tell, I might pass out and you'll have a chance to sneak off to the bushes 
with two or three of them." 

Strained laughter rose from the trio at Joel's irreverent remark a laughter 
springing more from the possibility that he might be right than from the 
absurdity of the statement. On the way out of the darkened lounge, they 
stopped at the bar and went through the usual friendly combat to determine 
who would have the privilege of paying for the drinks. 

At home, Nancy paced back and forth through the rooms of the rambling ranch 
house, wondering what could be keeping her father in town. Interspersed 
throughout her wonderment were memories of the day before with Frank. Every 
time she pictured the details of the torrid session, she flushed a little 
and began to apologize to herself for enjoying what she saw in her mind. But 
there was something more, perhaps a small degree of masochism latent in her, 
that increased the pleasure of looking back at herself being subjected to 
the cruel lust of Frank Summerwell . . . and then recalling how she had 
turned suddenly into a wild inferno of uncontrolled desire. She began to ask 
herself if she would return to his cabin for more of the same, for more 
humiliation and more of the lewd bliss she had experienced beneath his 
roving hands and pile-driving loins. Although young, she was realistic. . . 
. There was little doubt in her mind that eventually, probably sooner than 
later, she would saddle up Happy and make tracks up to the canyon where her 
strange, devilish lover would be waiting to serve her more of the same kind 
of ecstasy. The mere likelihood made her nervous and excited at the same 
time. 

"Where's Nancy!" came her father's big voice from the front living room. 

"I'm right here I'm coming, Daddy," Nancy called back in reply to Mel's 
booming inquiry, hurrying toward the spacious front room. She heard other 
voices backgrounding her father's and was curious to know who was with him. 
When she entered the room she saw Mel fumbling in the long oak liquor 
cabinet as Joel and Lucy Dawson stood by, chuckling at their host's 
frustration at not being able to locate the special whiskey he had promised 
them. 

"By God, here it is!" he roared victoriously, his voice slurring, as he 
withdrew a handsome unopened bottle of expensive private stock from the back 
of the cabinet. Turning, he caught sight of Nancy and threw up his hands, 
beaming. 

"There you are, baby, pretty as ever," he said, advancing toward her rather 
unsteadily. "See who I've brought home for a few drinks and dinner -Joel and 
Lucy!" He took her in his arms possessively, lifting her off the ground and 
crushing her to him with an excess of fervor that made her gasp for breath 
and beg to be put down. 

"Daddy, you've been a bad boy," Nancy teased. "You've been at the Sandalwood 
drinking when you were supposed to be seeing about buying some new horses. 
That's what you told me you were going to do, solemn honor." 

"See--see, it's just as I told you," Mel shouted playfully, wagging a finger 
at Nancy, "the little bitch's a woman now, just as bossy and as much of a 
watchdog as her mother was. . . . Only I'll bet she's a helluva sight 
friendlier to boys than her mother ever thought of being." 

"Daddy!" Nancy chided. 

Joel Dawson silently agreed, thinking to himself how splendid it would be if 
the youngster were friendly to older men too. He could not tear his eyes 
away from Nancy's youthfully developed body, its perfect proportions, the 
large firm breasts almost bursting out of her blouse, the breath-taking 
contours of her hips, the wispy waist, the way her skin-tight jeans clung up 
between her legs, forming a visible cleft between the lips of her tight warm 
pussy. Christ, he thought, if he were her old man, he would find some way to 
get in her hot little pants within a week! 

After a round of greetings and the usual questions that always accompany 
reunions, the four people sat down to apply themselves to serious drinking 
that is, all except Nancy, who graciously gave in to her father's insistence 
that she have a small glass of sherry. Following a lull in the conversation, 
Joel chimed in with a question about the horses Mel intended to purchase: 

"So, you need some riding stock, eh? Why didn't you say so? I'll sell you a 
half dozen fine geldings cheaper than you can get them from that thieving 
bastard, Morton." 

"To tell the truth, Joel, I was lookin' for some breeding stock a few mares 
and a good strong stud. Nancy's got the best stallion on the place, but I 
can't keep her off him long enough to get a mare under him." 

"Listen here, Daddy, I don't want you working Happy that way, until he's too 
tired to ride," Nancy scolded in mock-seriousness, evoking laughter and 
causing the others' eyebrows to arch at the candor of her remark. As Joel 
shifted uneasily in his chair, she continued: "Why don't you and Joel go up 
to the Guadalupes and bring in that wild black stallion everyone talks about 
. . . if he really exists?" 

"You know, she might have something there," Joel erupted, his eyes sparking 
at the mention of the legendary horse. "There's no question about it, he 
exists -I've seen him and he's the sturdiest piece of horse I've ever seen 
or heard of. He'd make a good stud, if you could keep the son-of-a-bitch 
from kickin' down your stalls and scarin' hell out of everyone within ten 
miles of here. Come on, Mel, what do you say we take a crack at bringing him 
in? We need some recreation anyway." 

"And so do we!" Nancy and Lucy added almost simultaneously, giggling at how 
they had thought of the same thing at the same time. Mel was strangely 
silent, though, his mind picking at the suggestion as he drained his glass 
and leaned forward to take up the bottle and refill his friends' glasses. In 
most respects the whole idea was preposterous, as impractical as it was 
adventurous, and yet it was also appealing. If the stallion was as special 
as Joel claimed, the animal could definitely be an asset to Leeds Ranch. He 
needed a batch of strong, durable foals to replenish the remuda, the mounts 
he had already lost and those he would surely lose during the next two or 
three years. If he could catch this wonder stud, he might save seven or 
eight thousand dollars in stud fees in the future, plus have a good time to 
boot just catching him. . . . Fuck it, why not? he decided, his eyes 
sparkling with the as-yet undivulged content of his ruminations. Then, his 
expression unchanged, he looked fiercely into the eyes of each of his 
companions, staring them down, until at long last he fell back in his chair 
and let loose with a volley of laughter that shook the walls. 

"Hell yes! Why not?" he bellowed. "We'll all go, day after tomorrow, about 
noon. We'll need at least another man, though, and I'm afraid I can't spare 
anyone from the spread just now. 

"Oh, don't worry, Daddy, I know someone a man who knows the country 
extremely well! And he's seen the herd too, many times!" Nancy blurted out, 
her green, almond-shaped eyes blazing with fierce excitement as the 
possibility of having Frank along on the hunt. "But we'll have to supply a 
horse for him. You see, he lives. . . . " 

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Mel interrupted with a tone of impatience in 
his voice. "Who is this bird, and where did you meet him?" Praying that she 
had not over-extended herself, thus compromising her relationship with Frank 
Summerwell, she managed to calm down and explain how she had encountered the 
blonde writer on one of her rides into the Guadalupes. Naturally she was not 
altogether honest about the meeting and excluded all the raw details 
involving the sexual aspects of their liaisons in the canyon. Quite to the 
contrary, she painted a glowing verbal portrait of her lover, dwelling on 
his talent as a writer, his sincerity, and especially, his valuable 
knowledge of the range and the habits of the wild band of horses. She 
elaborated on the man's ingenuity and courage in building his own cabin . . 
. his strength of character in shutting himself off from the luxuries of the 
civilized world in order to attain the peace and quiet required to write 
profoundly, as a real artist, avoiding the influences of other men. Finally, 
finishing her eloquent argument on Frank's behalf, she was relieved to hear 
her father grunt a token approval and suggest that she ride up the next day 
to ask Frank Summerwell if he would agree to join them. Mel even agreed with 
Nancy's suggestion that he pay Frank wages for his services on the hunt. 

"Just how old is he?" Lucy inquired of Nancy, obviously quite impressed by 
the girl's description of this superman hermit. After all, Lucy surmised, 
maybe he would be worth her attention on the trip. If he lived alone, 
completely secluded from the world, and was really as attractive as Nancy 
said, he would no doubt be disposed to indulge in a little harmless 
love-making with a willing, full-blown woman such as herself. God knows, she 
could certainly use a good fucking by someone other than Joel. The selfish 
bastard hardly touched her anymore; and what was worse, he watched her like 
a jealous hawk, preventing her from moving around town in search of the cock 
she so desperately needed to be happy and content. No, she had never kidded 
herself she was as close to being a nymphomaniac as a woman could be without 
actually wearing a sign advertising her willingness to spread her long legs 
for almost any man with a hard-on. Hell yes, she admitted it: she adored 
stiff pricks, wanted all she could get, and had left more than one man worn 
to a useless frazzle in the morning. 

"All right, then, it's settled," Mel said with finality, "we catch that 
black bugger and a few of his mares. For now, though, let's jack up the cook 
and have supper. I'm hungry enough to eat even your beef, Joel . . . even if 
I did die from it." 

Nancy watched Mel and the Dawsons sway off toward the kitchen, chattering 
animatedly about the stud and the fact that they might even share him to 
service mares on both ranches. The stunning young girl then leaned back on 
the couch, thoughts of Frank and the powerful black stallion whirring 
tormentingly through her mind. One thing particularly disturbed her, though, 
and that was Lucy's by no means hidden fascination with Frank. Perhaps her 
sex-hungry lover would prefer Lucy; perhaps he would consider the older 
woman's body plus her greater experience more intriguing and stimulating 
than her own. The very possibility made her shudder and drive such 
considerations from her mind, replacing them with the more acceptable 
memories of yesterday, when Frank had assaulted her virginal cunt and 
spilled his creamy white sperm into her belly. There was no sense trying to 
fool herself, she decided, for she already found herself anxiously 
anticipating the next screwing she would receive from him. Thrilling visions 
of his hardened penis began to race back and forth across her mind's eye, 
causing her to chastise herself, yet becoming all the more vivid as her 
nipples perked up and a wetness began to saturate the crotch band of her 
panties. Her breath quickened and her entire body began to pulse at the 
thought that she would be alone with him the next day, perhaps naked and 
pinned beneath him again with his huge hardened cock locked tightly up 
inside her fluttering belly. . . . 

 CHAPTER 5 

The sky was a deep, rich blue two days later as Nancy, Mel and the Dawsons 
approached the lower slopes of the foothills cradling the red canyon that 
was their immediate destination. It was a splendid day, the flaming orb of 
the sun lighting the minaret-like cacti and glancing off the rocks like 
liquid reflections. There was even a breeze bickering through the mesquite, 
stirring up brief whirlwinds of sand and dust that went tearing away, only 
to dissolve into nothingness within the space of thirty or forty feet. 

Trailing the group, there were two heavily-laden pack-horses and an extra 
saddled mount for Frank. Nancy had assured her father that her friend would 
be at his cabin, waiting to accompany them into the mountains. She had 
ridden Happy up the previous day and found a note left for her, saying that 
Frank had hiked off to town for supplies and would not be back until early 
the following morning. She in turn had tacked another note to his door, 
explaining that she had been there to invite him along, as a salaried hand, 
on their horse-hunting expedition, and that they would arrive at his cabin 
about two o'clock that afternoon. 

As they neared the hermit's cabin, Nancy could barely conceal her anxiety 
that he might not be there, or that perhaps for some unknown reason he might 
not be willing to go along. It was not a simple thing for her newly-aroused 
emotions to cope with, that he might refuse, and she began to reprimand 
herself for having encouraged her father to want Frank along on the trip. 
She could have stayed at the ranch and, after the others had set off, gone 
up alone for another sex adventure with the virile blonde god. 

Her fears were soon allayed, however, for she saw Frank sitting patiently on 
the garden bench when they rounded the last bend in the canyon. Hearing 
them, he stood up, shirtless, and waved heartily as though he had known the 
whole group for a long time and was happy to see them again. Out of the 
corner of her eye, Nancy saw an open-mouthed smile break across Lucy's face, 
a smile registering the shock of pleasure the older woman felt at finding 
their companion-to-be such a handsome, muscular broth of a man . . . one 
with whom the cock-hungry woman fully intended to make beautiful erotic 
music. 

"Hello, Nancy, Mr. Leeds . . . and hello to you folks," Frank smiled in 
greeting, nodding to Joel and Lucy, his gaze lingering a moment on Lucy's 
generous thighs straddling the sides of the mare she rode. "I found your 
note, Nancy, and I'm frankly honored that you thought of me as someone to 
help out. I'm all ready to go, as you can see," he said, pointing to a small 
pack. comprised of a bedroll and sundry personal items. 

"Nancy says you've seen this black devil and his harem," Mel drawled as he 
scrutinized the lean, suntanned man before him. "Do you think you can find 
him? . . . I'll pay you twenty dollars a day and add a hundred dollar bonus 
to that . . . if we catch him. Does that sound okay to you?" 

"Fair enough," Frank said. "I can use the money, all right, and I think I 
can find them-by tomorrow. I heard them just this morning, about dawn, about 
two miles from here. . . . Sound carries a long way up here. . . . But 
finding them and putting a rope around that black stallion's neck are two 
different things." 

"You just lead us to the herd and follow directions," Joel grumbled, "and 
we'll do the rest." 

"Suits me fine," Frank grinned. "I think you'll see that I'm easy to get 
along with when it comes to earning a day's honest wages." As Frank turned 
to pick up his gear he cracked a special smile and a wink at Nancy, showing 
her that he was merely playing along with the others and still reserved all 
his real interest for her. 

Once Frank had secured his trappings and was astride his horse, the small 
party headed out of the canyon at a brisk jog. Nancy and Frank rode side by 
side, with Lucy just behind the two ranchers at the fore of the pack. She 
complimented herself at having maneuvered Happy into a position alongside 
Frank, forcing the designing Lucy to urge her horse ahead to avoid 
congestion on the narrow trail. Somehow, she was enjoying the competition 
with the older woman, knowing that, ultimately, Frank preferred the 
untrained, unspoiled flesh of a fourteen-year-old girl to that of a 
lust-driven bitch of thirty-five, one whose qualifications for a lover were 
reduced to the primitive requirement that he have an erect penis and be 
willing to fuck her. Just the idea of her advantage in this respect, added 
to the steady rock and rhythmic sway of Happy's gait, ignited Nancy's 
new-found passion and caused her breasts and pubic parts to tingle in 
readiness. 

They rode through the high country most of the afternoon, carefully making 
their way along tiny deer trails that led them into the shadowy green depths 
of canyons and up over barren rocky ridges, all the while following fresh 
signs, marked by broken branches and hours-old dung-droppings left in the 
wake of the restless, moving wild herd. Once, even Joel agreed with Frank 
that the elusive band was not far away, for they both had heard whinnying 
and the pounding of hooves in the near distance. 

"I'll bet they're on to us . . . probably got our scent," Mel conjectured 
when the group paused for a short stop to rest and look over the endless 
panorama of rolling mountains and narrow valleys stretching off from the 
ridge they were on. "It's getting late, so we might as well find a spot to 
camp for the night. Well get an early start in the morning. . . . Maybe 
we'll catch the bastards asleep." 

"That's a good idea," Frank affirmed, "because there's a deep gorge about 
three miles from here. I've seen them grazing on the meadow about halfway 
in, and maybe if we surprise them early, we can haze them further into the 
box at the end of the gorge . . . that is, if we're lucky enough to catch 
them there." 

Several hours later, Nancy was sitting by herself on a fallen log at the 
edge of the grassy clearing they had chosen as a campsite. She was watching 
the three men and Lucy as they sat in a three-cornered huddle near the 
crackling, pine-scented fire that Frank had built with all the expertise of 
an Indian. It was shamefully obvious that Lucy had her sights set for a roll 
in the bushes with Frank. The disgusting bitch was coming on like mad, 
laughing and clutching at every opportunity to touch the blonde man's 
shoulder or leg as they talked. It all seemed innocent, of course, and not 
even Joel was paying any mind to his wife's bold, insinuating advances. Not 
at all; in fact, he seemed to admire Frank and made an effort to see that 
the charming writer downed just as much whiskey as he and Mel did. Her own 
father seemed to be oblivious to her presence among them. He was grinning 
like a Cheshire cat and, much to Lucy's delight, questioning his new friend 
and hired hand about the latter's success with women. 

"Yes, do tell us about that," Nancy heard Lucy ask cooingly. "I've heard all 
sorts of crazy tales about writers, that they're hung like bulls and can go 
for simply hours on end." 

"Well, I don't know about that . . . Hemingway wrote that F. Scott 
Fitzgerald, while willing, was cursed with abnormally small male equipment 
and had a difficult time convincing himself that any healthy woman wanted to 
go to bed with him. Fortunately, I'm a bit more secure than Fitzgerald," 
Frank laughed softly as he reached for the whiskey as a sort of punctuation 
to his humor. 

"Goddammit, Mel, I'm glad we brought old Frank here along. He's a ballsy 
son-of-a-bitch, and funny too." Nancy smiled to herself at Joel's ignorance, 
his blindness to Lucy's overt attempts to lure the stranger off for a sexual 
romp. The young girl was also saddened by her hot-blooded lover's 
responsiveness to Lucy's cheap, open-house remarks and gestures. Surely her 
time with him in the cabin had meant something more than just a convenient 
fuck-taking a naive teenager's virginity just for the fun of it. Oh Lord, 
she screamed inwardly, what if it were true? She doubted that she could 
resist him again even if it were the truth. 

A few minutes later, she watched the slightly tipsy revelers rise from their 
spots around the fire and move toward her. 

"Gonna catch that black demon tomorrow. . . . But now," Mel Leeds drunkenly 
announced to his daughter, "now now we're gonna take a little walk down to 
the . . . the water . . . that stream I keep hearin' . . . and sober up for 
bed. S'okay?" 

"Of course, Daddy, but be careful in the dark there's not much moonlight for 
safe walking." 

"If you don't mind, sir, I think I'll stay here and enjoy the fire with 
Nancy," Frank said casually, his voice betraying no evidence of the 
considerable quantity of whiskey he had drunk with the others. He paused 
beside the gnarled fallen log that the girl was using as a seat. 

"Thass all right with me . . . but juss be careful the spooks up here don't 
get you," Mel quipped thickly over his shoulder as he staggered off arm in 
arm with Joel and Lucy, their voices and occasional bursts of laughter 
gradually fading in the darkness beyond the firelight. Frank took a seat 
beside Nancy and the pair sat in silence for seeming eons, pretending to 
listen to the hooting of an owl and the chirruping of crickets. It was the 
first time they had been alone since the fateful afternoon in the cabin, and 
their thoughts were now hammering in their brains with the same, though 
unspoken urgency. As for Frank, his mind was casting about frantically for 
an appropriate opening statement to break the silence and pave the way to 
another satisfying session with the passionate young nymph at his side. 
Nancy's thoughts centered more on his opinion of her, if he still desired 
her even though Lucy had commanded his attention most of the evening. 

"Nancy, I know what you're thinking," Frank finally said, his arm reaching 
out to rest gently on her shoulder. "But you don't understand why I've been 
going along with Lucy's seduction game. It's a diversionary tactic, only 
that. She's got the hots for me, and I'd much rather keep her busy that way 
than chance having the bitch suspect us and go to your father . . . with 
some tale that could hurt us both." 

"Are you sure that's your only interest in her?" Nancy asked with 
undisguised doubt in her voice. 

"Solemn promise," he answered, smiling broadly as he held up his free hand 
to swear his sincerity. Believing him, she laughed softly at her fears and 
leaned against him, snuggling her head into the warm hollow between his 
shoulder and chest. Perhaps she was not as much of a woman as she thought, 
she worried, for she should have overcome her petty doubts and understood 
the force of pressure being placed on Frank by Lucy and the situation 
itself. Despite what Frank had implied, it was really shallow of her to 
think that one afternoon of love-making would automatically transform her 
into a full-fledged woman. In any case, she was certainly willing to tackle 
the challenge with every ounce of energy and courage she possessed. And for 
once, she was not afraid of him anything but and looked forward to his 
caresses. 

Sensing his impact on her emotions, the tawny-haired writer slipped his 
other arm around her waist and drew her snugly against him, planting his 
lips on hers in a long, greedy kiss that forced back her head. His tongue 
pried open her teeth and slipped headlong into the depths of her mouth, 
toying with her tongue in light jabbing motions, until he heard her breath 
begin to race with the lust that had been seething just below the surface of 
her doubts and fears. A little at a time, he withdrew his tongue, enticing 
hers into his mouth, then locking his lips around the slender spear of pink 
flesh in a teasing sucking grip. 

"Oh darling, darling," she sighed when he withdrew his mouth to give them 
air. Then, only vaguely aware of what she was doing, Nancy deliberately 
dropped one eager hand from his neck and began to fumble in the crotch of 
his trousers, her sensitive girlish fingers finding and curling around the 
long throbbing bulge under the material. In answer to her boldness, he moved 
one of his hands from her back and fully cupped one of her warm breasts in 
his palm, pleasantly surprised to discover that she was not wearing a bra 
under the flannel shirt. His searching fingers found and freed the first 
three buttons of her shirt, his hand plunging in without hesitation to grasp 
and milk at each breast alternately. Then he bent down and pulled back the 
shirt, nipping playfully at the erect light brown nipples one at a time, 
eliciting low fevered moans from her as she worked hurriedly to open his 
fly. 

Nancy jerked free the last remaining metal button at the crotch of his jeans 
and was shocked all over again at the sight of his huge thick rod leaping 
into view, illuminated like some savage apparition by the dancing orange 
flickerings of the campfire. My God, it was beautiful! she thought, her 
fingers circling the impressive tower and filling her with a sense of power 
. . . that she was able to make it that large just by touching it with her 
fingers. Even so, its circumference was too great to completely encompass 
with her hand, and she wondered anew how she had ever been able to swallow 
it up with her virginal little pussy. 

"Suck it, honey . . . I want you to suck me off," Frank whispered, applying 
pressure to the back of her neck. "Let's say it's lesson number two in 
becoming a real woman." She saw that his face was twisted into a grotesque 
mask as it had been before, at the cabin, and she felt a wave of confusion 
at her lover's unexpected change in personality, from a tender, attentive 
man into a selfish, demanding beast. But there was more than confusion in 
her mind; his very crudity triggered something else deep inside her . . . 
something that delighted in being humiliated and treated as an object in 
which he vented his obscene sexual lust. 

"I I don't know what you want me to do . . . I don't know how to suck you 
off," she whispered at his ear, the humid caress of her breath inciting him 
all the more. He exerted more pressure on the back of her head and muscled 
her face down to within inches of the blood-red head of his cock. She 
studied the pulsing instrument for a moment, forgetting how he was hurting 
her. It was like a forearm and webbed all along the underside with heavy 
veins beating like a heart. The balls below it were thrilling too. . . . 
They shivered, drawing up and then loosening in time to the pulse-beat of 
the penis rising above them. 

She held her breath for an interminable moment and then expelled it on the 
big cock-head, causing his testicles to ache and expand with the build-up of 
sperm in them. He pulled back, then, just far enough to provide the space 
between them that was necessary to present his penis to her mouth at a 
comfortable angle. Now, maybe she would understand what he meant by lesson 
number two, that her apprenticeship was far from finished. 

He sat tensely with his hardened cock pointing straight up at the black 
night sky, exerting more and more force at the back of her head, pushing her 
down until her lips brushed the semen shining where it oozed out of the 
flexed hole on the tip of his prick. Suddenly she relaxed and reached down 
with her other hand to take it viselike with all her fingers. She began to 
stroke him, up and down with both hands, sliding the loose flesh back and 
forth in a slow, magical rhythm that made his sex urge increase almost 
beyond endurance. Then she fell to her knees between his legs, hugging his 
thighs with her arms. She held him tightly, stroking the thick cock-head 
between the flats of her palms in a teasing masturbatory motion that caused 
his hips to undulate and buck involuntarily. It was as though she had done 
this before, he thought; maybe the bitch had taunted other men this way 
before blowing them. She had either done it before or had an extraordinary 
instinct for prick-teasing. 

His mind still buzzing with questions, he watched her head lower further, 
closing the few inches between them, and saw her delicate tongue snake out, 
its tip boring tentatively into the tiny opening on the end of his quivering 
cock. She flicked downward next, licking at the crimson rim of the glans and 
sending quivering arpeggios of sensation down his legs to the tips of his 
toes, which curled and straightened spasmodically. Then she lifted her head 
just above the protruding column, hovering for a maddening moment before she 
brought her mouth down all the way and enclosed the whole of the thick head 
in a wet, warm lip-lock. Her mouth tightened like an elastic band around it 
just below the head, trapping it completely inside the slippery, silky 
softness of the warm wet cavern. 

"Holy fucking Christ!" he grunted, bending his neck to stare down at her 
flesh-engorged mouth. The maddening sight of his rock-hard cock sunk almost 
halfway between her ovaled teenage lips increased his sexual excitement to 
the point of delirium. Her saliva trickled from the corners of her mouth and 
ran down the portion of his rod that she had not yet taken into her, making 
it glisten like the stump of a wet tree in the dim light, as did her moist 
pink lips. She tenderly manipulated the skin of his balls with one hand and 
stroked the base of his cock between the thumb and forefinger of the other 
as she began to suck and pull at him like a veteran whore. He could feel the 
softness of her tongue twirling lasciviously around it at the apex of the 
withdrawal, the tip rummaging into the tiny opening of the glans again and 
again. He tensed his loins and thrust impulsively upwards, his eyes still 
fastened to the marvelous sight of her picture-pretty head bobbing up and 
down below. Just the visual effect alone was enough to drive him crazy. . . 
. And to think that, up until a few days ago, he had not touched a woman in 
months! 

Now, there she was, Nancy, a beautiful teenager, sucking his hard prick as 
if she thought it were the end of the world, her long red hair flowing 
sensuously over his thighs, almost touching the ground, and gleaming like 
shimmering gold in the light of the waning campfire. 

Nancy could feel his increasing response and began to suck his cock with 
more enthusiasm, the tips of her teeth digging firmly into the swollen, 
resisting flesh, leaving small pink trails of blood and glistening saliva 
where they scraped the surface of the skin. She shifted her position on his 
thighs without desengaging her sucking lips from his cock, and knelt then on 
all fours between his open legs. She reached behind him, cupping his solid 
buttocks in the palms of her hands, pulling his groin up tighter to her 
face, taking almost every last inch of the mammoth penis into her throat as 
he groaned and muttered incoherently between clenched teeth. 

As she licked and sucked the delightfully pungent-tasting cock, she heard a 
sudden noise behind them in the dark. Her first impulse was to raise her 
head to see what it was, but the strength of his hands holding her face to 
him, prevented her. After a moment she heard the noise again, this time 
closer. She had not been imagining it, for even Frank was frozen to 
stillness, listening with her. In unison they hastily covered themselves, 
their fingers busily buttoning and adjusting their clothes. 

"Well, hello, kids," Lucy said with faint sarcasm as she and the two men 
came into the ring of light, "Nancy, dear, don't you think you should put on 
something warmer? You'll catch your death sitting there with your shirt open 
like that." 

"Please don't worry about me, Mrs. Dawson. I'm really quite warm," Nancy 
said icily as she surreptitiously inched further away from Frank. 

"I'll bet you are, sweetie," Lucy returned, equally frigid, her eyes 
scanning the pair and settling unflinchingly on the dwindling length of cock 
inside Frank's trousers. 

"You folks can jaw all you want, but I'm going to have another shot and go 
to bed," Nancy's father said, addressing the group offhandedly. He was 
obviously unaware of the crux of the situation, his perception still 
impaired by the whiskey he had drunk. Raising his hand to wave goodnight, 
the inebriated rancher zigzagged up to the fire, now mostly glowing coals, 
and stooped to pick up an armful of large hardwood logs. He came dangerously 
close to falling headfirst into the sputtering bed of coals as he bent over 
it to release the logs like a load of bombs, swearing when a shower of 
sparks fanned out in all directions. Still grumbling good-naturedly, he 
snatched up his bedroll and then stumbled to the far side of the rejuvenated 
campfire, just outside the range of visibility, having forgotten to drink 
his nightcap. 

"Joel, don't you think it would be nice to sit here a bit and watch the 
fire?" Lucy suggested as she sat next to Frank on the log, unbuttoning the 
top buttons of her sweater as she wriggled into a position for maximum 
comfort. "It's just as Nancy said warm and pleasant here." 

But Joel merely grunted, not really hearing his wife, for his eyes were 
pinned to the white swells of Nancy's breasts, generous portions of which 
were still showing where her shirt lapels were peeled back. 

"Hey, listen, why don't I get the big quilt Nancy packed," Lucy said, 
rising. "There's no sense sitting on this old tree when we can be 
comfortable." With that, she rose and walked a beeline toward the supply 
cache, her ample hips jiggling suggestively as she went. Feeling Nancy's 
muscles tense at the older woman's display, Frank slapped her knee and 
turned toward her to smile, hoping to dispel her jealousy and anxiety over 
Lucy. There was a possibility, he thought, that the night might develop into 
one hell of an affair. If he played his cards right, he might provide the 
impetus required to engineer a real orgy. Lucy would agree that much was 
certain and from the way Joel was ogling Nancy, his eyes beady with desire 
for the girl, Frank was reasonably safe in assuming that he too would go 
along with things. Only Nancy remained an obstacle, for he was almost 
positive that she would try to confound any sexual play in which Lucy might 
become his partner if only temporarily. Christ, he had to give it a try, 
though. The way the young girl had sucked his cock, building him to such a 
pitch of excitement that he had been on the verge of cumming . . . well, 
something had to be done. Anyway, that big, raven-haired bitch looked like a 
wonderful lay, and she had been making every effort to communicate to him 
that she would like nothing better than a good hard fucking. 

Nancy watched Frank's face as he sat thinking, his gaze glued to some 
imaginary spot on the ground beyond his feet. She loathed Lucy and Joel for 
returning when they had; Frank's cock had tasted like heaven in her mouth. 
And she was certain that he would have filled her throat with his hot white 
sperm if they had had another few minutes alone. Now, they had not only been 
interrupted, but it was clearly apparent that Lucy planned to share Frank's 
firm masculine body whether the girl liked it or not. All right, Nancy 
suddenly decided, let her Frank would see that, even though she was only 
fourteen, she was capable of providing in enthusiasm what the older woman 
had in experience. Besides, Nancy knew that she was much lovelier than Lucy 
and every bit as well built. 

Joel's mind was also working rapidly, calculating through a boozy haze how 
he could swing even a few minutes with young Nancy, his cock buried to the 
hilt somewhere, anywhere, in the youthful redhead's delectable little body. 
Hell, Lucy could have a romp with the writer, if necessary . . . if that was 
what it took to get little Nancy. Thank God Mel had been drunk, lagging 
behind, when the three of them had returned to camp from the stream. 
Otherwise he would have seen his daughter with her soft full lips wrapped 
around Frank's prick, and that would have spoiled whatever chance there 
might be for the rest of them to have some fun. 

"Here we are," Lucy said as she approached the others with a huge thick 
quilt draped over her arm. After Frank and Joel had assisted her in 
spreading the quilt out evenly on the ground a dozen or so paces from the 
log, the foursome found positions on it, sitting shoulder to shoulder as 
they faced the fire. 

"You know, you two had better be more careful . . . if you're going to play 
around up here," Lucy said after an awkward silence, pausing again to let 
the words sink in. "There might have been a lot of trouble if Mel had caught 
you like that . . . on your knees, Nancy." Another long silence followed and 
Joel grinned obscenely as he turned to stare directly into Nancy's 
unbelieving eyes. 

"Do you mean . . . you saw?" Nancy asked quaveringly, fighting down a strong 
desire to deny everything. 

"Yes, dear, Joel and I saw." 

"Let me ask you this, then," Frank broke in, the strength and self-assurance 
in his voice a comfort to Nancy, "did you like what you saw?" 

"That all depends . . . " Lucy answered coyly, her eyes traveling from 
Frank's handsome face down to the crotch of his trousers where a seminal 
stain was still visible. "Doesn't it, Joel? I mean, it depends upon how 
Frank and Nancy think of us. Isn't that right, honey?" 

"Yeah, that's how it is," he replied almost menacingly. "Mel might start 
shootin' if he thought his pretty daughter was goin' down on a stranger." 

Nancy blanched with horror and embarrassment at Joel Dawson's ugly words, 
words she began to understand were designed to barely camouflage a blackmail 
threat. But good God, what did the Dawsons have in mind as payment to remain 
quiet about what they had witnessed? Surely Joel, a greying man older than 
her own father, did not expect her to submit to his sexual demands? And yet, 
the more the girl thought about Lucy's hankering for Frank, the more she 
began to realize that this was probably the truth. Probably Joel was willing 
to grant his wife sexual freedom at the price of having his way with Mel 
Leeds's daughter. 

"Forgive Joel's bluntness," Lucy said, "but, really now, I don't see why the 
four of us can't work out something to give everyone satisfaction. Nancy's 
not a child not anymore and Mel's out like a light for the rest of the 
night. . . . Why can't we all be sort of . . . friendly . . . and forget all 
about what happened?" With this last pointedly promiscuous remark, Lucy 
chuckled gayly and edged close enough to Frank to rest her head on his 
brawny warm shoulder. She breathed a low moan when she felt his arm slip 
around her waist, pulling her even closer. 

"Well, now that you mention it, perhaps we can be friends," Frank laughed, 
his awakened male vanity growing by leaps and bounds. Everything seemed to 
be going his way this evening. And now, he could feel his prick responding 
to Lucy's nearness, causing him for a moment to completely forget about 
Nancy and Joel sitting side by side, less than a foot away on the quilt. He 
only knew that he wanted this seductive, black-haired woman, regardless of 
the consequences, and the sooner the better. 

"By Jesus, I whole-heartedly agree. . . . Why don't we all get nice and 
cozy, and maybe . . . maybe we'll forget what we saw," Joel said with a 
twinkle in his eye. Then, boldly, he added: "One thing, I think it's a 
crying shame that a girl with Nancy's looks should be sitting here freezing 
to death." 

"But I'm not cold, Mr. Dawson," Nancy quickly replied. 

"Sure you are," Joel insisted. "Those nice little titties of yours are half 
naked. . . . " He could not tear his eyes away from her luscious, voluptuous 
young body and began to breathe faster as his big cock jerked to attention 
between his legs. Nothing could stop him now from having that beautiful 
youngster's body and even if she should scream bloody murder, hell, his old 
friend Mel would never believe that he had actually tried to get in the 
girl's pants. More, he knew that Nancy was crazy with jealousy as she sat 
there watching her boyfriend brazenly playing around with his wife, Lucy. 

It was true: Nancy's thoughts were perfectly aligned with Joel's. A jealous 
rage boiled in her veins as she watched Frank's hand probing boldly under 
the opened front of Lucy's sweater. Yet she was also dimly conscious of 
another feeling, a subtle warmth flowing through her loins as she witnessed 
the blonde man's betrayal before her very eyes. Good heavens, she must be 
sick to be excited, even a little, by the sight of her own lover fondling 
another woman. She was also stirred up by the strange masochistic pleasure 
she took in knowing that Joel, a man more than three times her age, planned 
to take advantage of the fact that he and Lucy had seen her kneeling between 
Frank's legs. She realized that her daddy would never even consider any 
accusation she leveled at Joel, that the man had taken her against her will 
while her father dozed in a drunken stupor. She had no way to turn, no 
recourse but to accept the lecherous old Joel to use her body in any way he 
wanted. Just the thought of his touching her made her tremble with a 
combination of shame and arousal that she could not explain. 

"Come here, sweetheart," Joel said as he roughly hugged Nancy to him and, 
without preliminary, began to unbutton her shirt the rest of the way down. 
Then, as if controlled by an alien force, she forced herself to relax as he 
rudely stripped the shirt from her lovely white shoulders and down her arms. 
She heard him whistle softly as he looked at her large rounded breasts with 
the nipples perking to sudden erection in the cool breeze. Without a word, 
he knelt back and worked with shaking fingers to unfasten the front of his 
trousers, his eyes still feasting on the magnificent naked globes of her 
breasts. 

Nancy could not wholly fathom what was happening, even though the fluttering 
sensations in her breasts and loins were becoming stronger and harder to 
ignore. In an attempt to avert her eyes from what would soon be Joel's 
nudity, she turned her gaze toward Frank and Lucy. . . . Lord, Lucy was also 
half naked, her heavy breasts standing out in front of her like huge filled 
balloons being kneaded and pinched by Frank's eager hands and fingers. Her 
young mind was even more shocked to see that his trousers were lying in a 
heap on the ground in front of them, his tremendous cock jutting out at 
least seven or eight inches above where Lucy held it with both hands at the 
base. She saw the older woman clench her fists around the thick penis, 
slowly sliding them up and down its incredible length as Frank's face 
changed again into that of a primitive savage. He moved up a bit closer so 
that his knees straddled Lucy's knees, his long throbbing cudgel directly 
below the woman's face, presenting her sex-filmed eyes a perfect view of his 
hardness while his balls drooped down to nestle between her tits. 

"Lie back . . . on the ground," Nancy heard Lucy say huskily, watching her 
push against Frank's chest as she spoke. The man did not have to be told 
twice and immediately rolled to one side and over on his back in one 
continuous movement. "Aren't you going to join me, Nancy," Lucy said slyly, 
an obscene grin on her face as she moved fluidly to crouch on her hands and 
knees over the blonde Adonis. "In the meantime, Joel can built up the fire 
again so we can enjoy seeing the show." 

"Ah, shit, Lucy, I'm hotter'n sixty," the greying rancher protested as he 
stood. Nancy turned toward his voice and saw that he was naked, standing 
there at her side with one tanned, weather-beaten hand stroking his stiff 
cock. It was fantastic not as long as Frank's, but over two inches thicker 
in girth and seeping bright clear drops of semen. She could not help but 
imagine what it would be like to hold the two men's massive rods in her 
hands at the same time, stroking them as she had just seen Lucy stroke along 
Frank's hardened penis. Then, wheeling and stalking off in a flustered huff, 
Joel headed across the clearing to replenish the diminishing fire. 

Nancy sat motionless for a moment, confused, feeling the unusual effect of 
the situation take total command of her senses. At last she could no longer 
remain sitting there, doing nothing, while Lucy prepared to satisfy herself 
to the fullest on the banquet of male flesh waiting beneath her. She must 
share Frank as well, she though jealously, leaning forward to her knees and 
crawling to one side of his beautiful prone form. 

"Wait let's take off all our clothes and surprise Joel when he comes back," 
Lucy whispered. Both of them wordlessly followed the suggestion, wriggling 
out of their jeans and tossing them in a haphazard pile next to the men's 
clothes. When they were both utterly naked, Lucy's mature, full-fleshed form 
made a striking contrast to Nancy's firm, slightly girlish contours in the 
first flashes of radiance from the renewed, roaring fire. 

They were both so desirable, so willing, that Frank was having a difficult 
time trying to decide which one he wanted to go down on him first. Finally, 
his sex-weakened mind chose Lucy, because she was the aggressor this 
evening, and he reached up to place both of his hands behind her head, 
bending her neck down to him until her mouth was poised tantalizingly over 
the palpitating head of his granite-like cock. He arched upwards a little, 
his ass-cheeks rising from the ground, until the visibly pulsating head of 
his penis was pressed gently on her slightly parted lips. He could barely 
hold himself back from bucking up and sinking himself between the plush lips 
that brushed and teased against the highly sensitive skin of his prick-head. 
Her lips closed abruptly at the first contact and he held his breath, 
expecting her to pull away . . . but there was no rebuff. Instead, Lucy's 
lips parted wider and her head pressed down of its own accord, accepting the 
prick between the soft rounded "O" of her lips and closing thrillingly over 
the tightly stretched tip. It was a dream . . . the hot moist flesh circling 
him. 

It was more than Nancy could bear, watching Lucy engulfing Frank's cock with 
her mouth, and she moved in to crowd the older woman aside, until Lucy was 
compelled to take a position at the man's side in order not to lose the 
prick in her mouth. Nancy then lowered herself and grabbed the wide trunk of 
the cock with one hand, while with the other she wound her fingers around 
the pulsing spheres of his balls. She could feel Lucy's sucking ovaled mouth 
sliding down the shaft to touch her grasping fist. 

Returning from his chore at the fire, Joel heaved a deep sigh of arduous 
approval at the picture of Lucy and the sweet little redhead clamoring like 
bitches in heat over Frank's big cock. He stood quietly at the edge of the 
quilt, watching his wife suck hungrily at the long gleaming rod buried in 
her throat. Then his own cock sprang to a greater aching tautness as he saw 
Nancy scoot down flat on her belly between Frank's wide splayed legs and 
flick out her tongue to tickle at the gathered ridge of flesh between the 
softness of his balls. Lucy continued to suck voraciously, taking more and 
more of the prick into her mouth with each downward stroke, while Nancy's 
pink tongue massaged the tender flexible skin of the scrotum. 

The rancher was agog as he stepped closer, not trusting his eyes when he saw 
Nancy actually suck one of the big balls into her mouth, her fingers working 
desperately to fit in the second one as well! 

Scorching torrents of sexual fire lapped at Frank Summerwell's mind and body 
as he watched the two passionate females working, sucking and swallowing his 
fiery cock and testicles. The muscles of his stomach flexed until he was 
certain they would snap from the intensity of his pleasure as he arched his 
back higher and higher to receive the maximum benefit of the sucking mouths. 
God, what a brain-reeling sight! The thin red-stained ridges of Lucy's mouth 
pulling out from her face as she bobbed up yet clung avidly to his swollen 
cock. And his balls now out of sight in Nancy's wide stretched mouth, 
suffocating her despite the fact that she tickled and swiped with her 
lizard-quick tongue at the sperm-filled sacs. . . . 

Joel was rabid with lust as he watched the party taking place just a few 
feet from where he stood, licking his fever-dry lips, grimacing when he saw 
Lucy jerk the wet cock from her sucking lips and bend it toward Nancy, who 
instinctively raised her head and closed her mouth over the thick, turgid 
glans. Once again, the young girl almost choked from the sheer size of the 
penis disappearing between her puckered lips. She sucked at it madly and 
could feel the writer's reaction to the fresh mouth over him. She was wholly 
involved in her performance and now pushed to the back of her mind any 
reservations she had had about sharing Frank with the other woman. 

"Grab my cock, baby, and put it up to your asshole," she heard the wheezing 
Joel command. She had not noticed his return from the campfire, let alone 
sensed him creeping on his hand and knees up behind the upraised circles of 
her buttocks. The rancher delivered a sharp slap to her hip to show that he 
meant business, and then, hesitantly, but fearful he would carry out his 
threat to call her father and tell him about Frank, she reached behind her 
to seize the trembling shaft, aiming the enormous tip at tfye tiny brown 
ring of her tight, hairless little anus. Joel's cock leaped in her hand and 
he pushed forward as Nancy began to rub the oozing head up and down the full 
length of her vaginal split, lubricating it further with the now copiously 
flowing juices. There was an outward pressure on her ankles and she did not 
resist as the panting man pressured her legs open wider . . . until the 
insides of her calves grazed the knees of his bent legs. 

"Dammit, go on, Joel fuck the hot little whore in the ass," Lucy goaded as 
she shifted her stimulated torso higher on Frank's body and took hold of her 
own right breast, squeezing the resilient flesh to bursting fullness as she 
offered the wide dark brown ring of the nipple to the man's mouth. Damn, 
what a beautiful sight, Joel thought, his body shaking spastically as he 
leered at his wife's tit in the stranger's mouth, at Mel's teenage daughter 
sucking the huge cock with her pretty little asshole so vulnerable and open, 
his hardened rod pressed up against it. He had waited a long time to fuck 
this smart-assed little teenager, and now it was his turn, by God, whether 
she was ready or not. He wanted to ram into her as deep as possible, further 
than she could take, to show the bitch that Joel Dawson was by no means too 
old to fuck any woman until she couldn't talk. 

Lowering himself a little, Joel spread the cheeks of Nancy's firm, rounded 
young buttocks wide apart and then pushed forward until she felt a slight 
pop at her anus . . . and then . . . then an unbearable spasm of pain so 
acute that she twisted and screamed, again and again, spitting out the cock 
she had been sucking as she writhed and struggled frantically to escape the 
agony in her rectum. Her buttocks were waving like a flag in a stiff wind, 
thrashing in all directions, but her movements only helped to drive the 
abnormally thick penis deeper inside her virginal rectum. She could feel the 
weight of the lust crazed man's body pressing down on her with a pulverizing 
strength, flattening her lower torso, punishing the delicious, white little 
ass with a hungry vengeance. She bucked back up at him, trying to throw him 
off as she bucked, but he only rammed harder, imbedding himself all the way 
up to his balls in the tender, flaccid tunnel of her ass. 

"Noooooaaaaaahhh! Eeeeeeaaah!" she screamed in pain, continuing her useless 
struggle against the perverted attack from behind. She no longer felt human 
with the monstrous, flexing male organ ripping far up into her rectum, 
pushing against the bottom of her belly inside. She felt as though she had 
been reamed open back there by a huge log, mutilated forever by the brutal 
fleshy pole sunk in her backside. Then, moaning with resignation, her 
strength failed and she collapsed in a limp mass beneath the rigid body of 
the animal-man behind her. 

Her loathing of Lucy returned when she saw the woman leering sadistically at 
her, watching her husband's depraved, cruel rape of her rectum. 

"How do you like having it in the ass, honey," Lucy hissed as Frank 
continued to suck hard on her tit. 

That lewd question increased Nancy's feeling of degradation a thousand-fold, 
to know that the older woman was watching it all and enjoying Nancy's shame 
and inhuman humiliation at the hands of her bestial husband. 

"Just relax, honey, and it'll hurt less," Lucy went on. Her instructions 
were a mockery to Nancy and the girl set her teeth to prevent another cry 
from escaping her lips. Suddenly, miraculously, the pain in her back passage 
eased a little. She still felt torn and stretched wide there, but the short 
time Joel had lain on her, not moving, had given her anus an opportunity to 
gradually adjust to the forced entry. Defiled as she was, she would call on 
every last reserve of her courage and show that whorish old bitch that even 
a fourteen-year-old girl could play this sex game as well as she could. 

Joel groaned unexpectedly as he felt the skewered teenager's anal muscles 
tighten and relax, tighten and relax around the thick length of his buried 
cock. The shaft throbbed harder and he could not believe his eyes when he 
saw the girl actually rise to her knees and begin to rotate her buttocks in 
a slow, barely perceptible motion in front of him. He tightened and released 
his penis deep in her rectum as an answering signal, still not thoroughly 
convinced that she was really responding to him. He groaned as he felt it, 
felt her now slippery anal passage flex around him like a warm fitting 
glove. Holy Christ, he had really conquered her -she was liking it! Gasping 
and moaning in fresh delight, he grasped her hips with his hands and pulled 
her back more snugly against him, beginning a rhythmical fucking motion far 
into the soft confines of her asshole. He watched with trembling delight as 
the pinkish brown skin of her puckered little rectum drew back with his 
hard, purple-veined cock, clasping to it as firmly as a baby's sucking mouth 
on the breast. 

In the meantime, Frank snarled impatiently at the loss of Nancy's satiny, 
pink lips around his towering, swollen prick. He reached down and seized it, 
aiming the cocktip at his young mistress's open, gasping mouth. The girl did 
not have to be encouraged further and bowed her head to once more lock her 
eager lips around the staff. Nancy was obviously feeling no pain now, but 
unadulterated pleasure, for she was thrusting and squirming back to meet the 
obscene impalement of her rear passage, then diving forward with Frank's 
in-stroke to swallow as much as possible of the wildly throbbing penis in 
front of her. 

Lucy was observing with bulging eyes the double fucking from both the front 
and back the girl was getting and could not tolerate for another instant her 
own passive role in the orgiastic scene. Cramming more of her huge tit in 
Frank's mouth, she reached down with one hand and grabbed one of Nancy's 
bouncing breasts, pulling and clutching at the freely suspended globe of 
firm rounded flesh as though she were milking it. Her sharp fingernails then 
scraped harshly across the girl's stiffened nipple, causing a muffled moan 
of pleasure-pain to issue from Nancy's cock-filled mouth. For a fleeting 
moment, Lucy found herself thinking of how wonderful it would be to suck the 
breast, not as a lesbian, but because the creamy symmetrical orb was so 
sensuously beautiful and appealing. But now her moist pussy was screaming 
for attention, for a cock, a tongue, anything in it. 

She withdrew her own bruised tit from Frank's mouth, gasping as she tugged 
the nipple free from his sucking lips, and shifted her body up, raising 
herself to her knees and then swinging herself around to straddle the 
blonde's lust-twisted face in a position where she could still see Nancy and 
Joel. 

"Hurry, suck it . . . suck my cunt," she said, lowering her steaming wet 
vagina down to Frank's mouth. Nancy watched out of the corner of her eye as 
Frank gazed up into the palpitating opening of Lucy's cunt, then running out 
his tongue into the soft hair-fringed labia and finally pressing his gaping 
mouth over the clasping viscous slit. She saw Lucy Dawson's mouth fly open 
at the hot exciting contact and remembered how the handsome writer had 
mouthed and licked at her own little pussy before entering it with the long 
thick cock that she was now sucking with all her intuitive skill and 
enthusiasm. Behind her the impassioned and raging Joel gurgled and grunted 
each time he surged up into her and she too was in breathless ecstasy under 
him, twisting and grinding the lush whiteness of her firm, rounded buttocks 
back at him in a lewd invitation to fuck into her harder and deeper. He 
increased the power of his long, smooth strokes, ramming the entire length 
of his plunging cock into her sensitive depths. Her beautiful long red hair 
spilled down, covering Frank's thighs and occasionally swirling as with a 
sudden or particularly hard thrust she bucked forward and choked on the cock 
that was fucking impossibly far up into her slavishly working throat. He 
inched his hands from her hips proper to grasp her ass-cheeks, yanking the 
smooth moons wider apart to allow him to fuck deeper. Then she felt him 
deliver an extra deep stroke and pause, slowly and deliberately withdrawing 
the full measure of his cock out of her until only the tip was in her. . . . 
And again he slammed it home with the force of a jack-hammer, again slowly 
pulling it almost all the way out. 

"Oh good, yes, fuck me that way! Oooohhhh!" she cried as he plowed into her 
and filled her smooth, rubbery anal walls with the giant blood-engorged 
head. Becrazed now, she locked her mouth tightly and warmly around it and 
sucked at Frank's penis with a zeal that brought a quiver to his writhing 
flanks. 

Nancy felt the prick in her ass jerk, stretching and expanding her tormented 
rectum even more, and she knew what was about to happen, that Lucy's husband 
was swelling and on the verge of erupting in her cock-filled bowels. Then 
she heard a gruff, passionate roar behind her and felt his tremendous 
throbbing rod of flesh burst like a dam as he gave one last 
buttock-flattening lunge into the softness of her upraised rear, emptying 
his pent-up load of sperm in spurt after spurt deep into the depths of her 
new wildly contracting belly. Nancy thought the ejaculating cock would never 
stop shooting into her and could feel the hot sticky fluid overflowing and 
trickling down the backs of her thighs. Oh God, it was glorious, she 
thought, to have a male's, any male's, hot cum filling her asshole, swelling 
her stomach, running out and down to trickle through her flame-seared pussy 
lips. She uttered a deep sigh of disappointment as she felt the cock inside 
her begin to deflate and grow limp. There was a loud wet, slurping sound as 
it slipped out from between her buttocks and she felt a sudden shock of cold 
breeze rushing over her unplugged anus. 

Still, though, she sucked hungrily at Frank's stone-hard penis in front of 
her as he massaged Lucy's clitoris with his tongue, frequently tracing its 
tip down her greedily contracting cuntal lips to the vaginal opening and 
darting far in. He was now reaching up with both hands and gripping Lucy's 
swaying passion-tinted breasts, clinging to them as though they were 
life-rafts that kept him afloat in his sea of madness. 

Lucy was also nearing orgasm, grinding her hips down to receive every iota 
of erotic pleasure she could get from the writer's voraciously licking 
tongue. 

"Oh God, I'm cumming, I'm cummmmming!" she shrieked, her hands reaching down 
beneath Frank's head, tangling her fingers in the tousled thatch of his 
blonde hair and pulling higher, upward to bury the masculine face hard into 
her roiling cunt, rolling and pressing down her flanks in abandoned, pure 
pleasure. 

Nancy could not restrain herself from pausing to watch the exciting display 
of orgasm, envious that the older woman had cum and yet she had not been 
brought to completion. As Lucy lifted herself from Frank and collapsed 
beside him on the quilt, next to where Joel had also crawled to lie heaving 
and exhausted, Nancy felt the prick in her throat pulse faster and grow to 
such a size that she feared her lips would tear painfully apart at the sides 
of her mouth. 

"Suck it, bitch, suck it up! I'm cumming, cummming!" the muscular man 
chanted insanely. Nancy gagged and choked as her virile lover's mighty 
torrent shot into the back of her mouth, welling up to fill her rosy cheeks 
until she was forced to swallow rapidly to keep up with his volcanic gush of 
cum. But it was more than she could handle and thin trails of the creamy 
white substance trickled out of her mouth and down onto the throbbing veins 
of the cock, and further, down on the now-depleted balls that she had sucked 
and tickled with her tongue a few short minutes before. 

The satiated writer cast an idiot smile toward Nancy as she raised her head 
from the spent, deflating prick, her mouth smeared with his male sperm and 
her own saliva. She was still wild with the need to achieve a cumming just 
as the others had, but both men were useless now. . . . Her frustration was 
too much to hold back and she rose, turning away to hide the tears of 
unfulfillment streaming copiously down her cheeks. 

After awhile, she gained control of herself and picked her way carefully 
among the others, gathering her clothes, saying nothing about the desire 
still smoldering in her limbs. She knew that it would be senseless, that she 
would have to wait for another time, she hoped in the not too distant 
future. 

As she walked quietly back to the cache of gear to get her bedroll, she 
heard the sound of hooves drumming in one of the next canyons . . . and then 
several faint snorts and a neighing louder than the other sounds. Her heart 
began to race again as the sound penetrated her to the very bone. . . . And 
then there was nothing . . . nothing but the vast silence of the mountains 
accompanied by an occasional hoot from the owl that had roosted nearby. 

She spread out her bedroll a dozen yards from the glowing coals of the fire, 
dressed for warmth, and climbed in, her eyes and ears still alert for sounds 
or movements in the black night. 

 CHAPTER 6 

Nancy awoke the next morning with her brain still dazed and reeling from the 
extraordinary orgiastic experience of the night before. She lay there 
wondering if it had all really taken place as she remembered now. Every 
vivid detail flashed like neon in her mind, making her dizzy even as she lay 
flat on her back under the down-filled sleeping bag. 

"Oh Lord, how can I face the others?" she asked herself when she heard 
sleepy snatches of conversation around the breakfast campfire. Peering out 
from the bag, she saw her father and Frank huddling across from each other 
at the fire, each man applying himself to the preparation of the morning 
meal. Lucy was nowhere in sight, but turning her head a little, she saw that 
Joel was busy reloading the pack animals with bedrolls and sundry pieces of 
gear they had used to make camp. 

"Hey, honey, did last night tire you out that much? Aren't you going to get 
up?" came Lucy's voice from behind. Startled, Nancy whirled around and saw 
the handsome woman standing a few feet away, already fully dressed and 
holding the reins of two horses she had saddled. 

"I I guess I overslept," Nancy heard herself apologize, hating the timidity 
of her words even as she spoke them. 

"Well, it was quite an evening, I admit," Lucy said softly, ignoring the 
girl's discomfort. "I hope like hell we don't find those damned horses today 
. . . so maybe we can all get together for more of the same tonight." 

Nancy declined to comment on the woman's stated wish, but had to admit, even 
in the cold stark light of morning, that she would also feel little regret 
if they were forced to spend another night in the mountains. If it turned 
out that way, perhaps this time she would be allowed to reach the same 
sexual release that the others had enjoyed . . . mostly at her expense. 

Later, as the group sat in a semi-circle eating crisp bacon and thin griddle 
cakes, the talk turned to their plans for the day. Frank, between sips of 
coffee, explained the best route from the ridge they were on down to the 
boxed-in gorge that he had mentioned on the previous day. Only then, at the 
writer's reference to the gorge, did Nancy suddenly remember that she had 
heard the wild horses just before turning in the night before. Excitedly she 
recounted everything she could recall, down to the thrilling sound of the 
loud neighing, a sound that had risen above the whinnying and thundering 
hooves of the other horses. 

"That was probably the stallion," Frank said. "I've heard him neighing like 
that. . . . It's almost blood-curdling. . . . But from what Nancy says about 
the hoof beats she heard last night," he continued, his own excitement 
mounting, "it seems likely that they'll be in that gorge. If we hurry, we 
might be able to close in on them before they move on." 

"Come on, then, let's break camp and get moving," Mel Leeds shouted, 
stirring everyone to his feet with the mighty booming voice. Ten minutes 
later, the group had packed up and extinguished the coals of the fire. A 
general air of adventure was in everyone's veins, even Lucy's, as they 
lifted themselves astride their horses and waited until Frank took the lead 
down the narrow trail. 

Nancy had never seen such beautiful country. As they breasted the next 
ridge, she saw the sun boring its rays through the misty veils in the 
canyons and valleys, the distant ridges and peaks sticking up like islands 
out of the low-hanging clouds. Ah, it was all too much, too glorious to 
believe . . . the light . . . the deep purity of the sky . . . the sunny 
freshness lighting the trees and brush. She began to understand Frank 
perhaps for the first time: why he had chosen to live alone in this country 
. . . and why sometimes he changed so abruptly from an intelligent, 
considerate man into a demanding, primitive beast of a man. This vast wild 
land had instilled itself in his very marrow and sometimes took over his 
soul and body. Oh Lord, she loved him, keenly, almost to the point of pain; 
and she Wanted him inside her, in her welcoming warm vagina, to draw from 
his sperm the strength and stamina she needed herself. Then, again 
remembering the night before, she felt a glow of piquant warmth flow through 
her as she realized that his white cum was mingled in her blood, that by now 
she must have absorbed at least some of it into her system, so that he was 
physically a part of her being. 

They rode on in silence for another forty-five minutes, following Frank 
under shady arches where the trail was level, then around time-bleached 
croppings of rock and down shale slides where the horses were forced to half 
sit and brace their front legs in order to keep from trembling forward, 
head-over-heels. 

"All right, I think we should proceed very quietly and carefully from here 
on in. The gorge is only about a quarter of a mile from here," Frank 
cautioned. 

"What do you think, Frank, Joel, should we tether the pack-horses here and 
take along only what we need to build a barricade at the mouth of the 
gorge?" Mel asked. 

"That sounds good to me," Frank answered, nodding his approval of the plan 
back to where Joel was bringing up the rear with the heavily-laden 
pack-animals. 

"Yeah, sure. The fewer horses, the less noise," Joel agreed. "Nancy, since 
you're handiest, how about helping me stake 'em out over there. Looks like 
decent grazing and there might even be some water, green as it is." Joel was 
pointing to a grassy patch of shady, sun-mottled clearing off to the right 
of the trail, visible only from where she and the older rancher were sitting 
on their horses. It would be the first time that Nancy had faced the man who 
had fucked into her rectum, for she had avoided him as much as possible all 
morning. Her father had ordered her to ride toward the back of the party, 
just ahead of Joel, and she had felt the man's lewd eyes fixed on her 
curvaceous backside most of the morning. 

"Sure, Joel, I'll give you a hand," she said coolly as she dismounted and 
tied Happy's reins to a branch. She took the lead rope that Joel handed her 
and led the lathered animal off the trail and into the tiny clearing, Joel 
and the other horse close behind her. When the man had satisfied himself 
with an especially lush section of grass next to five or six shallow pools 
of water which had seeped up from what were probably artesian wells, he 
drove in two aluminum stakes and securely fastened the long lead-ropes, then 
busied himself with the task of removing the gear they would need to 
construct a barricade and prevent the wild band of horses from escaping the 
gorge. 

"How do you feel today?" he asked Nancy when he had finished rolling the 
needed gear into a canvass bundle. "I sure hope your little hind-end ain't 
sore today. . . . But don't worry, it'll be a whole lot easier from now on." 

Nancy flushed with anger and spun around on her heel, not bothering to 
rebuke Joel for his crass remarks. Later, when the time was just right, she 
would draw Frank aside and spill out her heart to him about her feelings 
toward him as well as about the crude rancher's intimation that he planned 
to feast on her body in the future. They could discuss possible solutions to 
the Dawson's blackmailing of them. And then-she could visualize it so 
clearly Frank would take her in his arms, tenderly assuring her that they 
had nothing to fear. . . . They would make love, alone and happily, until 
they both were sated and content just to be together, holding each other. 

As the group drew closer to the mouth of the gorge, everyone's anxiety rose 
to a high pitch. Happy was nervous and pranced skittishly from side to side 
of the trail, snorting and sweating while Nancy cooed to him, gently patting 
his neck in an attempt to calm the big sorrel stallion. 

"He probably smells the wild ones," Mel whispered, pointing ahead toward the 
gorge as he turned in his saddle to look at the others. "Let's keep our eyes 
peeled for fallen logs and whatever else we can use to shut off the end of 
the gorge. What about it, Frank, how wide is the mouth?" 

"Only about ten or fifteen yards at the mouth's narrowest point," Frank 
answered softly. "I figure that Nancy and Lucy can ride in about two or 
three hundred feet in front of us and shy them back while we build the 
barricade. That sound okay to everyone . . . Joel? Girls?" 

"I don't see any other way," Joel nodded. "But I think the women ought to 
take the rifles for safety in case that crazy black bastard decides to run 
right through us. Anyway, they can fire in the air every so often to 
discourage the buggers from heading our way." 

"That's a good idea. . . . And listen you two," Mel gravely admonished, "you 
gals don't hesitate to shoot 'em between the eyes if they won't stop runnin' 
toward you." 

After everyone had agreed, they rode on at a slightly brisker pace in case 
the herd had already scented them and might be heading out of the gorge to 
investigate. But when they reached the narrow mouth, about five minutes 
later, there was no sign or sight of the wild horses. They urged their 
mounts into a circle and held a brief conference, finally accepting Frank's 
assurance that the wild band was in there, grazing and still unaware of any 
threat to their freedom. Just then, when Frank had finished speaking, he 
noticed with excitement that there was a yellow cloud of dust muddying the 
bright blue sky about a half mile away, rising up from the direction in 
which the gorge seemed to run. 

"That's your herd, Mr. Leeds. . . . They're in there, all right," Frank 
beamed. 

"Goddammit, let's get movin' then," Joel barked. 

As planned, the two women rode a short way into the deep gorge, each 
carrying a loaded rifle, while the three men scouted the immediate area for 
barricade material. They worked steadily for the better part of an hour, 
sweating and cursing as they roped logs, fallen trees, boulders and pieces 
of brush, using their sturdy mounts to drag the barrier material into 
position. Frank remained at the entrance, placing rocks and pieces of brush 
between the heavier logs and stumps and boulders to create the effect of a 
solid wall. He toiled almost soundlessly, leaving a small opening at the 
left side through which Mel and Joel could ride when the blockade was 
complete. Then they would climb up to a spot on the cliff wall where there 
was a great boulder perched. Using thick sticks as levers, they would pry 
the boulder loose and let it drop into the open slot at the end of the 
barricade. 

Nancy and Lucy sat their horses at a point where the gorge widened to about 
three hundred yards from wall to wall, becoming a small canyon. They could 
see that it narrowed again, and ran off to the right, on the far side of the 
meadow they faced. Nancy was thoroughly excited, her limbs trembling as a 
peculiar mixture of intoxicating sensations made her heart pound and 
threaten to burst free of her chest. She was thinking of Frank when she 
heard them a sound that grew and echoed ominously, bouncing off the steep 
walls like a series of muffled gunshots. Then they appeared! 

They rounded the bend in the gorge like phantoms, a legend come alive, but 
raising dust and a chorus of percussive hoof beats as no ghosts ever had 
before. There was something missing, though: the fabled black stallion was 
nowhere to be seen. Nancy and Lucy waited, watching them pour around the 
bend in an unbroken stream, until at last there were no more. The herd 
slowed to a trot and fanned out about a third of the way across the meadow, 
milling and confused at the sight of the mounted women blocking the exit. 
Several of the mares in the vanguard of the pack stopped and stood 
whinnying, looking back toward the narrow swerve in the gorge. 

"Don't worry, everyone, he's back there," Nancy heard Frank say behind her. 
"He must've heard us and driven them out from the rear. You'll see him soon 
enough. . . . Meanwhile, I think Mel and Joel will agree that you girls 
should turn over those rifles. You can't tell, that son-of-a-gun might just 
decide to push the whole herd right through us, barricade and all." Nancy 
and Lucy obeyed without a word, handing over the weapons to Frank, who in 
turn passed them to Mel and Joel, leaving himself unarmed. 

The party sat patiently for several minutes, watching the wild horses move 
restlessly on their end of the clearing, sometimes halting abruptly in their 
tracks to stand and stare at them and the barrier looming at the exit. There 
were approximately sixty head in all, a motley mixture of dust-caked 
sorrels, blacks, and roans sprinkled with flecks of white and blue as though 
someone had painted them while drunk. 

"Jesus, it's a shaggy bunch!" Mel exclaimed as he eyed the herd. "Most of 
'em are too damned scrawny to ride, let alone use as stock horses." 

"They're tough, though, and smart," Joel said. "Wait'll you see the black 
one that'll change your tune." 

At that moment he trotted into view, a jet-black stallion at least seventeen 
hands high, his nostrils flaring as he snorted out defiance, rejoicing in 
his freedom of motion, his feet lifting and falling like pistons with minds 
of their own. He slowed to a walk about halfway through the herd, 
occasionally veering to one side to nip at the flanks of one or two nervous 
mares along the way. At the fore of the pack, he stopped and seemed to 
think, his dark eyes absorbing every detail of the situation confronting 
him. It was as if he were human, Nancy thought, allowing her gaze to rove 
over every inch of his magnificent wild body. She had never seen such a 
wonderful animal, with such flawless conformation, such pride and dazzling 
spirit. 

"Well, I'll be . . . " Mel started, his voice hushed with awe and respect 
for the big stallion. Even Joel was spellbound, unable to move or speak as 
he drank in the sight of the black horse. . . . In all his years as a 
rancher, the greying man had seen many fine horses. And he had seen this 
horse before, but never this close, close enough to truly appreciate his 
perfect lines and strength. Now he was sorry that he had offered to bring 
the horse in for Mel; he wanted the devil for his own. 

"Watch it!" Mel shouted. "He's movin' in on us!" 

Joel responded immediately and aimed his rifle in the air, firing several 
shots skyward to frighten the advancing stallion. But the black demon merely 
tossed his head and continued to walk toward them. Nancy swiveled her head 
toward Joel and saw with horror that he was aiming directly at the outlaw 
stud's chest. 

"No, don't shoot him!" Nancy screamed. 

"She's right. He'll stop. He's just testing us now, to see if we've got 
balls enough to stand in his way." Nancy had never loved her father as much 
as she did at that moment for saving the beautiful creature's life. Mel was 
right, too, for the stallion stopped less than a hundred yards in front of 
them, neighed angrily, and pivoted on his hind feet to turn and trot 
nonchalantly back to a spot just in front of the milling herd. 

"Why don't we try to run them back to the box at the end of the gorge before 
the stallion comes up with a scheme we haven't provided for?" Frank asked, 
the tremor in his voice betraying the anxiety he felt. "I'm not much at 
roping, but I'll hang back and haze for you." 

Mel bobbed his head up and down, smiling like a kid at the circus, and then 
shifted in his saddle to gaze gleefully into Joel's eyes. The older 
rancher's face broke into a correspondingly wide grin as he leaned far back 
in his saddle and let loose a cry that caused the wild herd to jump and 
scatter. 

" Yaaaaaaaheeeee!" 

Then the two ranchers galloped off, spurring their horses and sheathing the 
rifles in scabbards as they tore headlong toward the frightened mustangs. 
Nancy was swollen with pride as she watched her father and Joel, with Frank 
close behind, approaching the band of horses. She marveled at how the men 
handled their lariats, shaking out loops as they bore down on the nervous 
black leader of the herd. At the last second, when the men seemed 
dangerously near, the stallion screamed and wheeled around, actually 
charging bodily into the rumps of some of the horses as he drove them around 
the bend and toward the box-end where they would have to halt, trapped. 

When they were out of sight and only a boiling mass of fine dust was left, 
Nancy began to shake more violently than ever. She felt her eyes fill with 
tears as she found herself hoping that the valiant stud would somehow 
escape. She had read of the tragic plight of wild horses in America, that 
they were hunted by so-called sportsmen and bounty-hunters, and would soon 
be a thing of the past if they were not protected by new laws. Even Lucy was 
strangely silent, as though she too were experiencing the fear and panic of 
the penned-in herd. Her companion's next remark, however, showed Nancy that 
she had been wrong: 

"I hope this little game of theirs doesn't take forever. Let's pray that 
they catch that black one right away, so they won't be too tuckered out to 
fuck us on the way home." 

"Lucy!" 

"What! Don't tell me you're not aching for some more of my husband's thick 
cock . . . I saw you last night, the way you twitched your sweet little ass 
back to get every inch. And I noticed that you didn't mind gulping down your 
boyfriend's cum, either. Just watch it, kid, and don't tempt me to spout off 
to your old man that you're a cock-sucking little slut." 

"But Lucy, you don't understand I love Frank." 

"Shit." 

"Believe me, I do," Nancy bristled. "God knows, I wouldn't have allowed your 
creaking old husband to rape me that way if it hadn't been for what you two 
were holding over Frank and me." 

"Correction, honey. You mean what we are holding over you and don't forget 
it." They were silent then, both fuming within themselves from the other's 
remarks, wracking their brains for insults equal to the hostility they felt. 
The whole issue hinged on their mutual attraction to Frank, his charm and 
obvious sexual appeal. But Nancy had added an extra dimension to her 
feelings for him love. It was something she was certain that Lucy, in her 
wanton desire, would never understand about the relationship. Still, though, 
Nancy could not help but painfully recall the fervor with which he had 
sucked Lucy's breast, and then her vagina, until the woman had moaned in 
sexual abandonment and had finally climaxed. The girl now wondered just how 
much of the handsome writer's zeal had been in the line of duty giving his 
share of the payment to buy the Dawsons' silence about what they had seen 
and how much had been the result of sheer pleasure on his part. Yet, how 
could she blame him either way? She too had yielded to her body's demands, 
had actually drowned in the ecstatic feelings that had swamped her while 
Joel Dawson brutalized her virgin rectum. . . . It was all too much for her 
now, too much to piece together in any rational order until she could 
discuss everything with Frank. Meanwhile, she thought, it could not make 
things any worse but could definitely make them more confortable if she 
softened up the rancher's wife with a bit of old-fashioned kindness. 

"Lucy, insulting each other this way isn't going to get us anywhere. I'd 
like to be friends if it's still possible." 

"Maybe you're right, honey," Lucy said with a smile spreading over her face. 
"I'm sorry I spouted off like that. . . . And I'm also sorry if I botched 
things up between you and Frank. Just try to understand I'm still a young 
woman, with all the needs a woman has, and your blonde boyfriend turns me 
on. I can't help it any more than you can. But I don't kid myself that I'm 
in love with him. It's that big cock of his that I'm interested in. And 
you'd better ask yourself if that isn't his main attraction for you as 
well." 

Nancy was staggered by the woman's complete honesty, so much so that she 
began to wonder if Lucy might be altogether right. Perhaps she had allowed 
her girlish heart to blind her to the real facts: that she was no more in 
love with Frank than he was with her; that their sole interest in each other 
was entirely sexual, as much an adventure as was this crazy scheme of her 
father's to save stud fees by capturing a loco black stallion. 

Just then the pair heard three rifle shots in the gorge beyond. Nancy's 
first impulse was to spur Happy full speed across the meadow and around the 
bend, to see if anyone had been hurt or was in danger, but she knew that her 
father would never forgive her for interfering and exposing herself to 
further risk. 

"Try not to fret, Nancy, it's probably just one of the boys shooting into 
the air to haze the herd into a better position," Lucy soothed. 

"But they've been in there quite a while now," Nancy objected, "and I'm 
worried that they might be in trouble." 

"I expect they're having a fair share of trouble, all right, trying to put 
ropes around that beautiful black boy's neck," the older woman agreed, "but 
the men know their business. They're not taking any unnecessary chances." 

"I hope not. . . . They're pretty important men to us," the pretty redhead 
said, grinning warmly at Lucy. 

A few minutes later their suspense was ended, for the ebony black stallion 
raced around the bend and into view with two taut ropes around his powerful 
neck. Behind him came Mel and Joel, desperately spurring their horses' 
flanks to stay close to the big wild leader. Once they were far enough into 
the clearing, both men reigned their mounts to ride off obliquely in 
opposite directions, stringing the infuriated stallion between them as they 
slowed to a trot and finally a walk. The wild one was forced to slow down as 
well, at last coming to a complete standstill, his eyes wide and rolling as 
he screamed and pawed the ground, proudly defying the men who hampered his 
freedom. A moment later, Nancy saw Frank draw his horse to a halt beside her 
father. The two men switched mounts then and Mel rode to a spot about twenty 
feet in front of the stallion while Frank kept the rope tight. 

"Your daddy's going to try roping the devil's front feet," Lucy explained as 
the two women watched Mel Leeds shake out his second lariat to form a 
medium-sized loop. . . . They saw the big man nod toward Joel, who fired his 
rifle into the air as though it were part of a prearranged plan. The 
stallion jumped at the sharp sound, straining forward mightily against the 
ropes until his front hooves were virtually off the ground. Mel's loop 
snaked out and fell in a wide circle under the outlaw's elevated forefeet, 
then came alive again, lifting and closing around the beast's ankles when 
the big rancher whipped it with a single downward thrust of his arm. Rapidly 
twisting his end of the rope around the saddle horn, Mel urged his mount 
backwards and made the third restraining rope humming tight. 

"Okay, hold him steady!" Nancy heard her father shout to the other men. She 
watched awe-stricken as her father slowly eased his dun-colored gelding to a 
position that was in a forty-five degree line with the black horse. Then, 
again nodding to each of his assistants, Mel pulled hard on the gelding's 
reins and clucked to him, moving him backwards until the pressure on the 
rope made the wild stallion lose his balance and fall to the ground with a 
resounding thud. The rugged animal struggled to regain his feet as he 
continued to scream and snort out his hatred of his captors, but was 
unsuccessful. 

Nancy heaved a sigh of genuine relief when she saw all three men dismount 
and move confidently toward the downed stallion. She knew that now they 
would rope and tie his hind legs in order to approach him from the back. She 
had heard the men talking at breakfast about the potent tranquilizer they 
had brought along, and how they would inject it into the stallion's rump if 
they were lucky enough to catch him. 

In a few short minutes it was all over. Mel signaled Nancy and Lucy and they 
rode up within a few yards of the great, fallen black outlaw leader. 

"What do you think of the crazy bastard now?" Mel huffed, breathing hard 
from the Herculean exertions. "We've shot him full of that stuff the vet 
sold me, and I ain't afraid to admit I'm glad I had the good sense to bring 
it along. This is the goddamnedest, meanest son-of-a-bitch I've ever seen in 
my life. Hell, he's even meaner than Joel there!" 

Everyone laughed and broke the extreme tension with relieved patter and 
jokes about how they were going to get the stallion back to Leeds Ranch, now 
that they had caught him. Everyone laughed and joked, that is, except Nancy. 
She was strangely quiet and stood looking into the captured beauty's wide 
defiant eyes, a sadness filling her as she realized that the magnificent 
creature would never again roam with his harem in the 

Guadalupes. The legend was dead, finished. 

"If it's all right with you, Mr. Leeds, I'll make a hole in the barricade," 
Frank said. "I guess you'll want to rest awhile in the clearing where we 
left the pack-horses." 

"We'll do more than rest," Mel roared happily. "We'll set up camp there and 
get drunker than hell to celebrate. . . . Probably spend the night too!" 

"I'll go for that," Joel said, a hint of shrewdness in his voice as he 
glanced suggestively toward Nancy. 

 CHAPTER 7 

It was lovely and green, the rich glossy leaves of the trees on the 
perimeter of the clearing shaking and making music in the gentle mountain 
breeze. Only she and Frank were awake, walking hand in hand toward the spot 
where the black stallion was staked out. He was calmer now, seemingly 
resigned to captivity and the presence of people around him. 

"Are you sure it can be done?" Nancy asked her companion, who squeezed her 
hand firmly in reassurance. 

"Don't worry. I've seen it done before, several times. . . . Once in Texas 
and two more times in Mexican nightclubs," Frank said softly. "All you have 
to do is relax, let me help you . . . I can guarantee complete success." 

It was insane, really insane, but just the thought of it set Nancy's blood 
racing. She was shaking violently at the thrilling prospect, its very 
strangeness, even though nothing had happened yet. But soon she would know, 
would feel the black horse inside her, just as Frank had promised. It was 
his idea, his plan, and she had become deeply aroused as he described the 
wonderful things she would feel. He had even thought to bring a lantern, so 
they would not have to fumble around in the dark. 

The black horse was standing silently, waiting. He seemed to know Nancy and 
nickered when she ran her smooth white palms along his sleek, strong neck. 
Frank placed the lantern on a stump next to the horse, just close enough so 
that the creature's under-belly was clearly illuminated. Then her blonde 
lover undressed, stripping off his shorts to reveal his already hard cock. 
He moved close to her, lifting her face to his as he unbuttoned her shirt 
and the fly of her jeans. Then she was naked, suddenly exposed and 
vulnerable in front of Frank and the black stallion. 

It was all so natural and yet like magic. 

She watched Frank cautiously place a table he had built with strong saplings 
under the horse's belly, stroking the animal's shoulder and talking softly 
as he worked. Then the writer turned toward her with his huge, hardened cock 
in his hands. 

"Stroke it for me, baby," he said in a barely audible voice, arching out his 
loins so that the swollen cock-head was only inches from the flat surface of 
her stomach. She reached out with one hand and touched the hard fleshy rod, 
circling her fingers almost all the way around it and slowly moving the 
loose skin back and forth over the pulsing, blood-filled veins. He in turn 
manipulated the full white mounds of her breasts, pinching the large nipples 
to stinging erection and causing her to squeeze her moistening pussy 
together with her thighs. She was boiling inside and moaned at the force of 
her own emotional heat. 

"Now," she heard Frank say, "sit on that rock there and put two fingers in 
your cunt . . . to stretch it." 

She did as she was told, willingly seating herself on the rock with her legs 
obscenely spread as she lowered her hand and slowly inserted first one and 
then two fingers in the hot wet cavern between her legs. The sensation of 
pleasure was so intense that she inserted even another finger and began to 
rotate them in a small circle as she pushed in and out of herself. She saw 
Frank nod his head in approval, encouraging her to continue what she was 
doing. It was the first time she had ever entered herself that way, for she 
had always believed the auto-erotic act to be sinful and unnatural. She was 
delighting in it now, though. . . . God, how she was delighting in it and 
yet she wanted more, something bigger . . . a real cock. 

"Frank, darling, please, please," she begged, reaching for the man's jutting 
penis in a futile attempt to draw him close . . . close enough to fondle and 
suck on the beautiful length . . . and then guide it into her. 

"No, Nancy, not now. Later, after the stallion," he admonished. "I think 
you're ready, so come here and stroke him to make his cock nice and hard for 
you." 

Again, she obeyed the man and walked courageously up to the black horse, 
kneeling then as she patted his belly and stared at the penile sheath 
encasing the relaxed cock. She reached up to explore the heavy skin of the 
sheath with her delicate fingertips, making the stallion shudder and switch 
his tail from the unexpected contact. His movement frightened her a little, 
but she called on all her bravery and moved on her knees up closer to the 
dormant sex organ. Then with both hands she took a firm hold on the animal's 
sheath and began to push it gently back and forth, back and forth, until she 
felt it jerk and grow to semi-hardness in its housing. Her heart beat wildly 
as she stroked the horse, the authority of her hands increasing as his penis 
thickened more and more. She flinched momentarily when she saw the massive 
cock-head pop into view, followed by inch after inch of thick, semi-flaccid 
flesh resembling a long trunk. When about eight inches were unsheathed and 
dangling, she moved her hands down to touch the exposed flesh and run her 
fingers along the corded veins, tracing them delicately to the great knob on 
the end. Gradually the stud's responses quickened, his natural savage lust 
kindling and sparking his muscles to life. She labored on, fondling the 
ever-hardening cock as a bizarre, otherworldly series of fluttering feelings 
made her mind blur. Once more she was controlling the body of a male, a 
stallion, but nevertheless a male. And it was thrilling, despite her 
awareness that what she was doing was degrading her even in her own eyes. 

Then, before she realized what was happening, the aroused black stallion's 
cock reeled out another four or five inches and sprang to stony erection. My 
God, it was twice as large as even Frank's abnormally huge penis! She 
watched with utter fascination as the tremendous length tightened and lifted 
to slap the stud's belly with a thud, forcing small spurts of semen to come 
from the dime-sized hole at the end. 

"Okay, baby, now I'll fit the shield on him. I'll put it about a third of 
the way up from the base. . . . I'm pretty sure you can handle eleven or 
twelve inches of this big fella even if later you might be disappointed in 
my own merely human cock," Frank added with a shrugging laugh. She watched 
him squat on his haunches beside her and open the leather shield he had 
hastily fashioned just before they had left the campfire. It was a tough 
piece of rounded leather with two sticks affixed to it that ran down to 
another flat piece of leather. He carefully fitted the round shield around 
the girth of the horse's rigid shank, slipping it easily toward the thicker 
base where he tied it together with thin strips of leather thong. After the 
contraption was satisfactorily in position, he placed the two wooden struts 
and the leather foundation against the animal's belly. 

"Oh, Frank, that big thing can't possibly fit inside me without tearing me 
to pieces. It's too much for any woman to take!" she protested, slowly 
convincing herself that she should turn and run. And yet her body was frozen 
to the spot, mesmerized as she gazed longingly at the beautiful stallion's 
throbbing phallus. Frank simply ignored her childish objections, chuckling 
to himself as he held the back of her head in one hand and pushed her mouth 
forward and upward toward the oozing head of the monstrous cock. Finally her 
lips touched the fleshy tip and she was immediately filled with an electric 
tingle that made her seep and pulse more strongly between her thighs. 

"Don't be afraid he's been tranquilized again and won't kick up much fuss," 
Frank breathed hotly. "Just run your pretty little mouth along that prick of 
pricks, and you'll see that he'll behave. All he wants, like any other man, 
is a cunt wrapped around it." 

Almost sobbing in an agony of lust, she firmly seized the jerking member and 
licked up and down its endless length with her pointed pink tongue, tasting 
the strong pungent cock-skin and relishing it. Then, without having to be 
told, she stepped beyond the bounds of all morality and reason, placing her 
soft well-formed lips over the semen-oozing hole at the very end, sucking 
then to draw into her mouth the clear sticky liquid. 

"Jesus, look at her -sucking off a horse!" Frank panted to himself, his eyes 
shining with rapture as he observed the lewd spectacle. It was all he could 
do to keep from ramming his own cock between the creamy moons of her round 
young buttocks. And she knew it, teasing him with a slight circling motion 
of her ass, then reaching further under the horse to tickle the testicles as 
big as baseballs that hung down , between the sleek hair-covered interiors 
of his flanks. It was phantasmal . . . like a scene out of some medieval 
fairy tale . . . in which the fair maiden is spellbound by some mythical 
creature. It was as though an underworld demon had taken control of her 
young soul and she was possessed of an insatiable appetite for debasing 
humiliation. 

With a deep moan, she realized that her body would give her no choice she 
would have to surrender to her own inhuman need to take the powerful black 
stallion into her stomach. Her mouth parted in sensual bliss as she dropped 
her hands from the colossal organ and allowed them to scurry over her own 
flesh, floating lightly over her soft ivory belly, then coming to rest on 
the auburn-colored vee at the entranceway to her womb. Groaning at the 
delicious contact with her "hard sensitive clitoris, she moved her mouth 
back from the stallion's cock and turned to stare imploringly at her 
companion. 

"Oh God, Frank, I want him to fuck now!" 

"Good. Get up on the table, then. I'll guide him in for you," Frank grinned 
in lewd anticipation of the sight he was about to witness. The stallion was 
stamping his forefeet impatiently, occasionally tossing his head and shaking 
his mane as he snorted with eagerness. A small pool of semen had formed on 
the ground next to Nancy, and she experienced a brief wave of regret that 
she had not taken that as well. She had never been so greedy, so thoroughly 
grasping and starved for greater heights of forbidden pleasure, despite the 
consequences. 

As though in some sort of drugged daze, she listened to Frank's strangely 
distant voice, following his instructions without thought of questioning 
them. After all, he was her guru as far as sex was concerned; he was the 
first man who had caressed, ignited, and finally penetrated her virginal but 
voluptuous fourteen-year-old body that day in his cabin. And he had helped 
introduce her to the unusual refinements of group sex. Whom else could she 
turn to as a young woman faced with the overwhelming need to state the 
erotic drives lately awakened in her body? Of course she followed his 
instructions even if it meant taking on a horse! 

Accepting the panting and blank-eyed Frank's assistance, she raised herself 
and gingerly settled into position on the makeshift table. Her face was 
approximately seven inches beneath the stallion's gleaming black underside 
and her long breath-taking legs were spread wide over the horizontal poles 
cushioned with blankets that supported her lower torso. She was ready now, 
ready for anything that Frank wanted to steer into her inflamed, moist 
pussy. She only wished he would hurry and guide the stallion's big prick 
into her aching, waiting cunt. 

"Now, little girl, I want you to relax and think of how wonderful this is 
going to feel in a few minutes," Frank instructed as he pried her legs 
further apart and grabbed the stallion's gigantic lurching cock with one 
hand, while with the other he leaned forward and spread her cuntal lips with 
his fingers. The wet inner lips contracted from the cool rush of air that 
laved them, expanding again when the blonde man massaged the pea-like 
clitoris and then inserted three of his tanned, calloused fingers into the 
vaginal opening, spreading them to form a wide trident-like wedge that felt 
like the black beast had already entered her. 

With both of his strong hands, Frank forced down the stud's jerking shaft 
and aimed the broad head directly at the young teenager's partially expanded 
pussy hole. She felt the huge flexing tip graze her pubic hair, sending her 
brain soaring anew in a fresh burst of unthinking passion. And then she felt 
Frank's hand part her cunt wider, the pressure on her distorted labia 
sending little arrows of exquisite pain up into her womb. 

"Oh please, hurry! Stick it in me!" she wailed. 

"I can't wait any longer." 

Nor did she have to wait longer, for suddenly a searing explosion of 
excruciating pain washed up from her vaginal opening to completely engulf 
her mind and body. The black stallion's enormous cock-head had penetrated 
almost two inches between her widely stretched pussy lips and lay there 
throbbing and soaking like a red-hot poker doused in a tiny well of 
moisture. 

"Aaaaaaaaagggggggghhhh! Ooooohhh Godddd!" she screamed in unbearable agony, 
writhing and beating on the ebony devil's belly with clenched fists as she 
attempted to escape. But there was no way off the cleverly constructed 
table, but down at the end, toward the very source of her hellish pain. Her 
struggles to free herself from the barbarous impalement only lodged the 
immense prick more securely, driving it in an additional three or four 
inches, splitting her wider. The stallion was rallying to the snug warmth 
surrounding him, and snorting, he lowered his rump a little to help him push 
forward into the tortured channel. Nancy could feel the black fiend 
pressuring deeper and deeper, stretching and pushing before him the tender 
pulsating pussy walls leading into her belly. She screamed again when the 
blunt unyielding glans crashed into her cervix, threatening to rip on 
through the narrow mouth and dislodge her very entrails. 

"Ooooooh," she gasped as she felt her brutalized insides flowering wide open 
in a vain attempt to accommodate the massive cock. She was weeping and 
murmuring incoherently now as the excited stallion drew back his long 
horse-cock for another stupendous thrust into her. She could feel exactly 
where the giant prick had been, far up in her belly where a painful stinging 
sensation still throbbed. 

Frank was kneeling beside her, his eyes alight with sadistic joy as he 
watched the unnatural event taking place right before him. He saw Nancy 
squirm and struggle on the crude table, her face pale and eyes closed tight 
against the awful rupture of her insides. Her pelvic region was only inches 
from his face and he was afforded a clear view of her dilated cuntal lips 
grasping the mammoth cock. They puckered outward, stretched and cruelly 
drawn each time the stud withdrew in readiness for another battering lunge. 
Frank reached up to squeeze Nancy's nearest breast, holding tightly to the 
full stark-white globe of soft flesh each time the horse drove into the 
girl, jarring her body and shaking the wooden table. The blonde writer's 
grasp was not as much to caress the redheaded teenager as to steady her 
under the increasing barrage of thrusts between her splayed legs. He was 
just as passionate as the black beast and was now stroking his own stiff 
penis as he drank in the scene. 

The stallion plunged his great cock up and up, faster and faster into the 
soft warm tunnel, oblivious to the fact that he was fucking an almost 
virginal young human and not one of his many mares. Nancy's entire body 
bucked and jerked under the torturing onslaught and she moaned incessantly, 
her face now flushed in the flickering light from the lantern. Then . . . as 
though some occult charm had been worked . . . a peculiar new feeling came 
gradually over her body. Her mouth moved ceaselessly and her nostrils flared 
with the first throes of pleasure, a pleasure that was slowly being fanned 
to ecstasy. 

Her mind reeling in a wild, shameless appreciation of her debasement, she 
heaved her buttocks upward toward the stallion's cock as though she were a 
mare in heat. She tensed and released, tensed and released her cuntal 
muscles in a maddening rhythm that caused the sex-crazed horse to ram even 
harder into her now willing cunt. Nancy felt him sink the remaining inch in 
her . . . all that was left between her pelvic mound and the leather shield 
that Frank had fitted on the huge cock. There was nothing that could stop 
her mindless race for fulfillment now, and she fucked back faster as though 
she were undergoing an epileptic seizure. 

"Yes, oh yes," she cried into the night as the wild-eyed black outlaw 
continued to slide his thundering wet pole in and out of her. This is what 
she had been waiting for all her life, this beautiful animal-fucking, and 
she wondered if perhaps Frank had been right . . . that she might never 
again be satisfied with a mere man. She was a slave to this beast, a willing 
and eager servant to his lust, and she loved every vicious slam of his 
bulging cock into her gaping cunt. It was tearing her soul from her body, 
perhaps forever, and she could feel her vagina pouring out more and more 
slippery lubricant to deal with the hot, obscenely large shaft fucking into 
her. The moist, expanded hole down between her widespread legs was accepting 
him now, graciously and gladly, and the earlier pain had all but 
disappeared. She raised her quivering white ass to meet every thrust, and 
deep in her womb she could sense a white heat spreading out to flow over her 
whole being. She was no longer herself but a shaking mass of sweating, 
lust-deranged female flesh that begged to be subjugated. She was savoring 
her defilement, uncaring, incapable of thinking of sex as normal, healthy, 
or anything but a powerful, heavily-cored horse cock pistoning back and 
forth in her wide-stretched pussy, causing her to grind and groan like a 
feral animal herself. Yes, she was being fucked senseless by a dumb beast . 
. . by a prick bigger than she had known existed . . . and she wanted it to 
go on forever. 

Frank's desire had reached a peak as he watched the wild, animal fucking 
Nancy was receiving. It was beautiful to see the big stallion's flanks 
humping, the thick muscles rippling like fish just under the surface of the 
brilliantly gleaming black hair. He envied the creature, wished that it were 
he plunging into the gorgeous young girl with the stud's ponderous cock. The 
writer's hand was still locked on the young girl's firm, quivering breast, 
and now he squeezed it again with a crushing strength, feeling her cringe 
slightly as spastic gasps of passion escaped his own lips. 

"Jesus, oh Jesus," he rasped, increasing the speed with which he jerked up 
and down his own naked prick, the climax approaching its supreme moment in 
his loins. Suddenly he rose higher on his knees, pressing forward as the 
volume of his stormy passion burst and flooded his body and brain. Holding 
his lurching cock in one hand, he aimed it at the young teenager's bouncing, 
rounded tits and groaned deeply as the spurting stream of cum jetted out 
from the distended hole in the end. The thick gelatinous liquid landed like 
fire on her nipples and between the lovely swollen breasts, running in lewd 
trickles over the outer curves and finally down her sides just below the 
armpits. 

"Oh God, baby, feel it! Feel my cum on your titties?" she heard through her 
dazed mind. Nancy twitched, not realizing at first what had happened, and 
then found herself wishing that he had shot his semen into her mouth, as he 
had before. The thought soon vanished, though, for she was too thoroughly 
involved in the insane, animal fucking she was getting to concentrate on 
anything else for very long. The huge cock kept skewering into her, now 
flexing even more, to greater girth, as the leather shield smacked like a 
paddle against her beating, superbly sensitized clitoris. Her body was 
slippery from the sweat of the wild, untamed gyrations of her ravenous loins 
and her head flailed uncontrollably from side to side on the table. She was 
insane and worked frantically to satisfy the inhuman monster fucking her, 
spiraling her cunt up and down crazily on his sinking prick. She was nearing 
her orgasm at last and moved her small hands to her cum-splattered titties, 
cupping and massaging them like big spongy balls made of rubber, her fingers 
slipping lewdly from the wetness of Frank's thick white sperm, him to fuck 
even faster as the sweeping rush of glorious paralyzing feeling filled every 
atom of her being, crippling her for an endless moment, then building again, 
higher this time, and breaking. . . . Rush after rush of orgasm swept 
through her body, empowering her with superhuman strength and yet leaving 
her helpless to control her movements with any semblance of purpose or 
direction. 

"Oh God, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, you . . . you big black wonderful 
bastard! All of it I want all of it!" she chanted, panting hard, the whites 
of her eyes rolled up so that she seemed to be dying from the sheer delirium 
of her experience. It happened over and over, an unending chain of climaxes, 
each new one more intense and body-rocking than the last. 

Suddenly the humping horse grunted and made one extra vicious lunge into the 
groaning adolescent's forever stretched vaginal passage. Nancy's drained 
body waited anxiously for the great event and with her cunt muscles she felt 
in awe as the exposed vein running along the lower section of the cock 
filled with hot, boiling sperm. Then it erupted! 

Thick gushes of the creamy, pungent sperm flowed into her hotly working 
pussy, filling her belly until it bloated and seemed ready to blow apart. 
The jerking cock had come to a full stop, jerking out its lewd load between 
her wide-split thighs, a seemingly eternal flow of animal cum that crashed 
against her womb with the force of a geyser gone mad. It flowed seemingly up 
and out of her, even filling her breasts, as the pleasure-wracked creature 
stomped his hooves in the final spasms of orgasm, his long thick cock-trunk 
deflating and inching out of Nancy as he straightened up to his full height 
and eased backwards. The big rubbery cock dropped out of her with a sharp 
sucking noise and she felt the tide of sticky wet cum begin to pour from her 
open cunt lips like a slow-spilling waterfall. The softly spread crevice of 
her open buttocks was drenched with the substance as well as with her own 
torrential outpouring of heretofore damned-up cum juice. 

She lowered her hands to her crotch and wiped them back and forth in the 
sperm-flooded crevice, then raising them, ran them over her hips and the 
flatness of her belly until the whole of her flanks and mid-section was 
bathed obscenely with the stallion's still-warm cum. Frank's sperm still 
glistened lewdly on her naked breasts. 

 CHAPTER 8 

"Nancy, wake up! You're dreaming, baby-wake up!" Mel Leeds said urgently in 
his daughter's ear. She was perspiring freely and her pretty face was 
twisted in a grimace of torture and ecstasy that he could not understand. 

"Huh what? . . . Daddy, it's you," she said softly, her eyes glimmering with 
a sleepy recognition of her father's huge form hovering over her. Gradually 
the landscape around her came into focus, the trees, the dark outline of the 
mountains beyond, the crackling campfire . . . all slowly assuming realistic 
shapes. It was dusk, several hours after she had settled down on her bedroll 
to catch a few minutes of rest after . . . after what? 

"Oh, Daddy, it's you.. .what happened? Did we catch the black stallion?" she 
asked hurriedly, panic overcoming her at the thought that the horse might 
still be roaming the mountains. Fresh from the odd experience in the dream, 
she was still primitively aroused and yearned for the presence of the black 
marauder. 

"Of course we caught him, honey. Don't you remember? You've just been 
sleeping and had a bad dream. That was it, wasn't it?" he laughed, relieved 
by his own conclusion. 

"No . . . not a bad dream. . . . It was different, a strange dream," she 
said as she stretched her arms over her head and yawned lazily. Then she lay 
still, looking up at her father's concerned expression. It was then that she 
felt the tacky wetness between her thighs. She realized that she was weak, 
too, and could hardly lift her upper body to struggle into a sitting 
position. "Where's Frank?" she finally asked. 

"Oh, don't worry about him," Mel answered. "He followed your example and 
took a snooze himself after the chores were finished and the wild one was 
bedded down. As for me, I'm going to catch a few winks myself. . . . It's 
been a hard day." 

"Yes, it has . . . " Nancy said softly. 

* * * 

Later that evening, when everyone was awake and celebrating boisterously 
around the fire, Nancy signalled Frank with a covert glance, indicating that 
she wished to see him alone. They both rose, one a little behind the other 
so as not to draw the others' attention, and ambled casually to the outer 
edge of the clearing. When the pair had seated themselves on the very rock 
that Nancy remembered from her dream, Frank leaned over and gave her an 
affectionate kiss on the cheek. Then they sat quietly, allowing themselves 
to be lost in the primeval hush of the night, thinking each to himself of 
various logical topics with which to open the conversation. After several 
minutes had passed, Frank spoke: 

"Baby, listen to me, I'm sorry about the other night. I know you were 
frightened and that you went through hell when that silly bastard, Joel, 
came at you from behind. But believe me, there was nothing else we could do. 
What happened was surely a lot less painful than the mess there would've 
been if your dad had found out about us." 

"No, you listen to me, Frank Summerwell," Nancy said sternly, "because there 
are a few things I've found out about you . . . things I should have known 
all along. First, I know that you don't really care about me, about me 
personally, and that you've been feeding me a line all along. All you've 
ever wanted from me was my body a young girl's body because you're alone so 
much and need a female to remind you that you're a man. It was especially 
sweet, wasn't it, to take an attractive young girl's virginity when you 
would have considered yourself lucky to have a woman at all? But I don't 
blame you for that really I don't. It's human, after all. I blame you for 
lying to me . . . for letting me believe that there was something more than 
just sex to our friendship." 

"But Nancy -" Frank blurted, trying to break in. 

"Please, hear me out . . . I was about to say that now I am becoming a 
woman, with a real woman's desire. And I understand how you were able to lie 
to get what you wanted. . . . As for Joel's fucking me from behind, I'm not 
ashamed to say that I enjoyed it and even wanted more. Oh yes, I kidded 
myself for awhile, thinking how cruel and savage it all was, but when it 
came down to the truth, I liked it. 

"Oh, does that shock you, Frank?" she asked sarcastically when she noticed 
the man's expression of disbelief. "It shouldn't . . . it . . . it really . 
. . shouldn't!" Nancy bowed her head and began to sob openly, her violently 
trembling body showing how profoundly affected she was by the impact of her 
own emotional outburst. The handsome sun-bronzed writer sat staring at the 
ground a moment and then turned to Nancy, enfolding the limp weeping girl in 
his arms as he smoothed her shining hair and kissed her forehead. Without 
thinking, Nancy threw her arms around him, hugging him back and leaning 
heavily against his body until they both teetered, losing their balance on 
the rock. Down they crashed, then, laughing at their own surprise but still 
clinging desperately to each other as though it were their last day on 
earth. 

"God, I could really love you," Frank whispered fervently in her ear, then 
sitting back, confused, when she giggled coyly. "Tell me, you sweet little 
bitch, just what's so damned funny! I really could fall deeply in love with 
you . . . despite all the circumstances surrounding our relationship." 

"Oh, but darling, I don't know whether I could fall in love with you," Nancy 
returned gaily. "You see, there's another male to consider one who's built 
better if you know what I mean than even you. . . . And he's just as popular 
with other women." 

"Who might that be?" 

"I don't think I'll tell you," Nancy teased, smiling shrewdly as she toyed 
with several strands of her lovely long red hair. "I think I'll just keep 
you in the dark for awhile about my great specimen of masculinity." 

Frank pretended not to be interested, looking away and yawning, finally 
puckering his lips to whistle with studied nonchalance. It was Nancy who 
broke first, anxious to keep the blonde man involved in her mystery game. 

"Well, aren't you even interested? You should be, because you know him," she 
went on. 

"Do I?" Frank asked casually, now realizing that he had the upper hand in 
the coy exchange. 

"Oh, all right, you win. . . . The 'male' I was referring to is the black 
stallion. I had a dream about him this afternoon . . . and you were in it 
too. You helped him make love to me," Nancy said quickly, blushing a deep 
red as she blurted out the words. Then, heeding Frank's prompting, she 
related most of the contents of her erotic dream, causing her companion to 
perk up and listen with new interest. He felt his cock shiver and begin to 
harden as she continued to fill in the stimulating details of the 
spectacular imagined event. This had happened before, he reflected, when he 
had heard stories about beautiful women being fucked by animals with 
enormous pricks. And now, just envisioning this rosy-cheeked young miss at 
his side being skewered by the black stud, was turning him on almost as much 
as if he were picturing himself fucking her between her wonderful white 
legs. 

"Frank, I want to ask you something," Nancy announced. "Not that I plan to 
do anything, but I'm curious if, in reality, it's really possible for an 
average woman to take on a horse. Have you ever heard of it happening?" 

"Yes, I've heard of it . . . even though I never believed it. Then, two 
years ago, one of my best friends, a writer, told me that he had actually 
seen it happen. He was doing a story in South America and one night was 
invited to the home of a wealthy businessman. Evidently it was a stag party 
and the host had hired a pair of pretty local girls to put on a show 
involving a pony and a mule. It seems that each girl took on both of the 
animals, of course one at a time, and then went around the room sucking off 
the male guests until everybody was happy and smiling. I'm certain that my 
friend was telling the truth." 

"How would you feel if I took on a horse?" Nancy queried almost too 
offhandedly to convince Frank that she was only objectively interested in 
the subject. Turning slightly to avoid his eyes, she caught sight of the 
huge bulge in his trousers. The material was standing up like a tent and his 
eyes were becoming glassy . . . just as she had seen them before when he was 
aroused by her body and in the grips of passion. 

"That's a strange question," he answered huskily. "But I'll tell you the 
truth . . . I think I'd be damned excited by it, I mean if I were lucky 
enough to be present." 

"Oh? That's strange," Nancy said, "because just the sight of you playing 
around with Lucy last night excited me too. Is that bad . . . abnormal?" She 
was sincerely interested in the basis of this peculiar psychological 
phenomenon and listened eagerly as he tried to answer. 

"It's a difficult thing to explain, baby. The clinical term for this is 
voyeurism. It used to mean that a person got perverted sexual gratification 
from looking at sexual objects or situations involving naked people making 
love. But now it's different. . . . Behavioral scientists have researched 
the subject and found that it's not an abnormal thing at all. According to 
them, we all get excited to some extent when we watch others especially 
attractive people fucking or even just touching each other's naked bodies. 
They say it's simply because we're involving one of our most important 
sexual senses, our eyesight, and that what we see is communicated in sexual 
terms to our brains. . . . It's like having a greater sensual perspective." 

"Thank God," Nancy sighed in relief, "because I was beginning to think I was 
sick or something . . . Lord, you can't imagine how crazy and hot it made me 
dreaming that stallion was making love to me. But is that the same thing?" 

"Damn, you ask tough questions . . . I'm pretty hot myself right now, and I 
wouldn't mind playing your stud somewhere off in the bushes. However," Frank 
said as he inhaled deeply, "I'll try again to put your mind at rest. I've 
read into these subjects a great deal for two reasons. One, I used to be a 
little afraid that I was some kind of nut myself, because the same sort of 
things fire me up to the point that sometimes I'm incapable of thinking of 
anything else for days at a time. And two, in the past I've been assigned to 
write stories and articles on these very subjects. But to get to the point, 
it excites you to picture that stud fucking you to put it bluntly for the 
same reason that almost all women occasionally dream of taking on some 
animal. It's nothing new, either, for all through recorded history women 
have been having sexual phantasies involving not only horses but dogs, 
lizards, snakes, goats, cougars, you name it. It's called 'phantasy 
bestiality' and psychiatrists regard it as an expression of the 
sadomasochistic vein in all of us. . . . Now, knowing all this, are you 
still as hot and bothered by the thought of having that black devil's big 
cock between your legs?" 

"Well, I guess . . . I am," Nancy admitted shyly. She was relieved to hear 
that her extraordinary dream and the fact that seeing others making love 
were not indications of some weird sort of sexual illness in her mind. And 
she was also feverishly flustered by Frank's obvious acceptance of the 
stallion's fucking her. It was possible; he had said so. She then found 
herself wondering if the two pretty girls his friend had seen being fucked 
by the pony and jackass were any different than she if their pussies were 
bigger and deeper. It was not that she ever intended to take on the stallion 
she was too intelligent to seriously consider doing it but the simple fact 
that it was really possible stirred her loins and warmed her belly so much 
that she began to squeeze together her cunt lips. It was a pity that 
everyone else was awake, she thought, because otherwise she and Frank could 
work off their heated desire in the normal way . . . instead of just sitting 
there talking about fucking. 

"Frank, when can we 'fuck' again, alone?" she asked the writer, moving her 
hand to his knee and sliding it lightly along the inside of his muscular 
thigh. Even though she was as eager as he was just then, she fully realized 
that it would be entirely too risky to try anything while her father and the 
Dawsons were wide awake and celebrating their capture of the wild horse. The 
party would probably last most of the night, for that day's victory had 
rejuvenated her father more than anything had in a long time, and she knew 
that he would stay up drinking and feeling proud of himself long after 
everyone else had played out. 

"Soon, I hope . . . very soon," Frank whispered as he caught her roving hand 
and pulled it to the obscene bulge in his trousers, closing her fingers with 
his over the rigid jerking cock. "I'll slide this rod up your sweet cunt and 
screw you silly." 

"Oh, darling, yes, I'd like that. And the sooner the better," she hissed 
sluttishly through her clenched teeth. Giving his bone-hard prick another 
appreciative squeeze, she blew out her breath and rose, saying, "We'd better 
go back and join the party now, Frank, or Daddy might get suspicious and 
keep me home tomorrow." 

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," he growled, reluctant to give up the warmth 
and thrill of her clutching hand. 

* * * 

It was almost two hours later and Nancy was still unable to sleep. Agitating 
thoughts kept her tossing and turning in her bedroll, sometimes finding her 
breasts and sometimes the desire-dampened slit below her pelvic bone. If 
only her father were not awake and in such a festive mood, she thought as 
she listened to the others laughing and singing, she would agree to anything 
to quell the lust raging inside her. Even the gray-haired Joel would be 
better than lying there with visions of long, stiff cocks and hairy balls 
filling her mind. She wanted them in her vagina, not her mind. 

The pounding in her chest was almost audible and a naive reverence filled 
her for that precious organ, for her pulsating human heart, alone with her 
in the dark, alone with its question and riddle. 

 CHAPTER 9 

Over two weeks had passed since they had brought the black outlaw stallion 
down from the Guadalupes to the Leeds Ranch. Mel had kept the creature 
heavily doped and the journey had been uneventful except for the times the 
party had had to pass through narrow canyons and high boulders. The stud had 
created a fuckus at being so confined, but eventually calmed down again when 
they had reached open country. Now, of course, Mel Leeds was regarded with 
new respect by the neighboring ranchers and townsfolk: he had found, 
captured and brought in the horse that most people had always thought was 
mere myth. 

Despite her father's success and happiness, though, Nancy was profoundly 
disturbed and flustered. 

Frank Summerwell was gone! 

Early in the morning, the day after their return from the mountains, he had 
stopped by the ranch to sadly announce that he would be away for three 
possibly four months and would not be back until long after Nancy had left 
to attend the autumn session of school. He had received word from a 
publisher that his services were required and that he would receive a 
generous salary enough money to tide him over for a full year as a hermit. 
He and Nancy had talked alone, only briefly and without sufficient privacy 
to indulge their desires, and had parted after promises to write each other 
until they met again. 

Her father was away from the ranch for the day and Nancy had nothing to 
occupy her mind but thoughts of Frank and how much she yearned to have him 
with her, fondling her, inside her. As was her habit when alone in her room, 
she had undressed and then put on a gauzy shift that was so transparent it 
hardly existed. It was a dangerous choice, she thought, for the sheer fabric 
rubbed tantalizingly across her nipples when she moved, bringing sensations 
to her sex organs that frustrated and angered her. 

There was a knock on the door, startling her until she realized that it must 
be Maria with her lunch. She went without covering herself to open the door 
for the fat Mexican cook. A look of utter surprise crossed her face when she 
saw that it was not Maria at all but Sammy, one of her father's hired hands, 
a middle-aged skinny man with a reputation that left much to be desired. 

He entered the bedroom, brushing past her without waiting for her invitation 
to do so. He stopped at the side of the bed and turned to smile at her, 
strangely and with insulting boldness, his deep-set eyes devouring her 
immodestly clad form from head to toe. The beautiful young redhead was too 
stupefied to move, her mind still trying to absorb what her feelings had 
already registered in every cell of her body. 

"What what do you want?" Nancy stammered as she made a silly attempt to 
shield her breasts and pubic patch from the intense, penetrating eyes. "My 
father wouldn't be very understanding if he knew you had come into my room 
like this." 

"I don't think your old man will ever find out," the lean cowboy snarled, 
the confidence in his voice shattering whatever hope she had had of 
threatening him. "You see, some of the boys and I got together and decided 
to test you out. Hank's downstairs right now telling Maria that she won't 
need to bring up your lunch . . . because he saw you ride out on that stud 
of yours just a few minutes ago. . . . Why, you'll probably be gone for 
hours," he laughed as his eyes blinked and stared. 

"What do you mean? . . . " Nancy questioned, although a glimmer of 
understanding was already in her mind. 

"Well, I'll tell you, kid," he said with mocking graciousness. "The other 
night, 'bout a week ago, I was in the Sandalwood Saloon with maybe ten, 
twelve of your old man's hired hands . . . all good buddies of mine. And 
Joel Dawson was there, so drunk he even bought us all a round. He got to 
talkin', see, and told us all about how much you like a good fuckin' in the 
ass." 

"God, no," Nancy moaned despairingly. 

"Yep, that's right," the cowboy assured her. "And he told us that you're 
such a horny little critter, you give blow-jobs to strangers behind the 
boss's back. Well, to make a long story short, the boys and I know that 
you'll do almost anything to keep your pa from knowin' what you've been 
doin'. . . . And what's more important, we figured you'd be about ready for 
a good fuckin' since you ain't had none for some time." 

"Get out of here!" Nancy snapped. But her command had absolutely no effect 
on the insolent intruder. Rather than flinching, he strode slowly up to her 
and drew back his hand to deliver a sudden slap that made her head roll to 
one side. "Git outa them fucking slippers and that silly nightgown, you 
little bitch! I want you naked from top to bottom when I stick my prick in 
that hungry little cunt of yours. And hurry!" 

She tried to speak but the words bunched in her cotton-dry throat and she 
could only whimper. Suddenly she whirled and made a desperate leap toward 
the door, but he caught her easily, holding her paralyzed body with one hand 
while with the free one he ripped savagely at the veneer of her shift. She 
stood there, helpless, as he began to paw at her naked white breasts and 
then at the soft curling triangle of her pubic hair. There was nothing she 
could do against his strength. She was alone and completely at his mercy. 

"Okay, boys, she's ready," the attacker called toward the very door through 
which she had meant to escape. It burst open and she was nearly floored with 
shock as she watched four, five, six, seven men, her father's hired men, men 
she had spoken to and kidded with for years, troop in. All wore hungry, 
expectant expressions on their faces as they cast salacious glances of 
approval at her naked defenseless young body. 

"A couple of you guys hold the hot little bitch down while I warm up that 
hot sweet cunt with some good cock," Sammy ordered the cluster of men 
surrounding the frightened girl. Several pairs of hands snaked out and 
seized her, pushing her back onto the springy bed and pulling her legs out 
in a spread-eagle position. Gasping, Nancy watched the apparent leader of 
the group strip off his jeans to reveal a thick, projecting staff of flesh. 
She was horrified to see that all the others were following Sammy's example 
and were soon standing around buck naked with their cocks jutting out from 
their loins like so many throbbing telephone poles. Even the men who were 
pinning her flat to the bed worked with their free hands to unbutton and 
shed their trousers. 

"Okay, boys, take a good gander at that," 

Sammy said cruelly as he pointed to the pink slit of her tight, tender 
vagina. "That's your boss's daughter there. That's the pretty young body you 
randy buggers have been thinkin' about since she's been twelve . . . when 
she sprouted them tits and nice hips." 

Nancy watched in trembling fear as they leaned closer to inspect her exposed 
curves and hollows, their rugged faces unrecognizable with the desire that 
twisted them. She froze to an unbreathing stillness as the ugly leader 
slowly dropped to his knees on the bed, his wild eyes feasting on the sight 
of her downy auburn pubic hair. A murmur of excitement rose from the others 
as he grabbed his hardened cock and guided it up to touch the sensitive 
outer lips of her wincing vagina. A convulsive spasm shook her thighs and 
stomach muscles as she felt the electrifying union of the thick, 
broad-headed prick probing tentatively just inside the moist, pink flesh of 
her vaginal lips, then ramming in all the way in her cunt to the hilt with 
one ruthless lunge of his male buttocks. 

"Please, don't . . . not like this," she moaned uselessly, the huge, hot 
member already drawing back for another punishing stroke into her. It was 
futile. Her arms were held fast by the rough hands of men on both sides of 
her, as were her legs by two more men grasping and prying wide her ankles. 
She was pinioned like a butterfly and could do nothing but lie there and 
accept the tormenting cock fucking into her open and completely defenseless 
young cunt. But her terror was already dissipating, this time faster than 
ever, and the familiar lightning-like sensations of pleasure were claiming 
her reason. She could feel sensory devils dancing through her impaled body, 
driving off the humiliation and fear that she knew she should be feeling 
instead. The man's thin body smashed against her pubic mound again and 
again, his heavy hairy testicles colliding with each lusty stroke against 
the rubbery prickling ring of her anus. She strained against him, wanting 
him deeper, wanting him to completely fill this insanely quivering cunt she 
possessed. 

"More, you bastard, I want more cock in me! Fuck it deeper," she shrieked at 
him in her violent frenzy. The men holding her slim ankles had released her, 
knowing that it was unnecessary to hold her down now, and Sammy lowered his 
hands to clutch feircely at the soft, now hungrily grinding cheeks of her 
ass as he rammed into her. 

"Oh Jesus, it's not big enough!" she groaned. "It's too short! Hurry!" she 
begged, yearning for him to finish so she could take on bigger, thicker, 
longer cocks. The frantically pumping man could not believe his ears. She 
was actually pleading for more cock! Well, he grinned, he would give her 
something she had not bargained for. He moved one hand slightly forward, 
wetting two of his fingers before slipping them further back to her naked 
asshole. Then, with one quick thrust, he wormed the pair of cunt-wet fingers 
several inches into the tight tunnel. Nancy's reaction was entirely contrary 
to what he had expected. Instead of the scream he was certain she would let 
out, she moaned gratefully and began to piston up and down along the 
blood-filled length of his cock with a speed and force that he could only 
partially match. The youthful mistress was drowning in a whirlpool of raw, 
unbridled instinct, and she knew not nor cared why. She wanted cock, prick, 
as thick and long as possible. 

The brutal pummeling of the man's own pelvic bone was stimulating her as 
much as the pile-driving lunges he was making with his cock, and she bucked 
beneath him wantonly as the hot liquids of her lust spewed out of her and 
onto the rumpled bed. She was stunned when she felt the premature gush of 
his hot cum shoot into her writhing belly. It was too soon. . . . She was so 
near, almost at her peak, and the astonishing explosion of Sammy's climax 
brought tears to her eyes. 

"Get off me, you rotten bastard!" she yelled, spreading her legs wider and 
raising her naked young cunt into the air in search of something else to 
fill it. She gaped up at the circle of naked men standing around the bed, 
staring at her obscenely open cunt dripping with the traces of the little 
man's lewdly oozing sperm. 

"Fuck me, fuck me! What are you all waiting for?" she pleaded hoarsely as 
she drew back her legs further and pulled apart the fleshy wet lips of her 
cunt to present them a perfect view of her open throbbing cuntal passage. 
Then, through the haze of her sex madness, she saw the youngest hand on the 
ranch, Billy. She was dazzled when she looked from his stupid heavy-jowled 
face down to the size of his cock. Groggily, she estimated that it must be 
over ten inches long, perhaps even eleven, and the two bulging balls hanging 
below it gave the frightful shaft the appearance of a big cannon with two 
shots ready to be loaded and fired. 

"Hey, you guys, she's lookin' at me," he droned as a vacuous grin spread 
over his dull-featured face. "Kin I fuck Miss Leeds next huh, can I?" 

"Might as well let him," the exhausted Sammy said. "She's too damned hot to 
be satisfied with a normal-sized cock, right now anyway." 

"I ain't never fucked a real girl before . . . just heifers and sheep when 
there weren't nobody watchin', " the young clod confessed to the others. 

"I'll help you, Billy. I'll help, I promise," Nancy said unevenly between 
gulpings for breath. The boy walked forward and took Sammy's former position 
between the girl's eager thighs. She stared at him kneeling there, his 
horse-like cock spanning out from flat solid stomach like a third arm with a 
huge pair of fists balled between his muscular legs. Then she averted her 
feasting eyes from the boy's genitals and allowed them to roam from face to 
face, her mind dimmed in a manner that she could not comprehend, finally 
locking her gaze once again on the immense, turgid cock hovering over her. 
Oh God, yes, she groaned inwardly, it was almost as big as a horse's and now 
she would know a little what it might have been like if the black stallion 
really had fucked her. 

She reached down between her open thighs, then, taking hold of the prick 
with both hands and placing the bulbous head at the tiny bearded mouth of 
her hungrily throbbing cunt. The faces of the waiting men came closer, 
leering, ogling, to get an uninhibited view of the wonder about to take 
place before their glazed eyes. Her delicate, teenage pussy nestling in the 
soft curls of pubic hair between her legs was visibly pulsing and they 
longed to touch and pet it. Then, out of nowhere, Nancy felt a hand cup and 
pinch at her rounded full breast, digging into the pale white flesh, then, 
with its filthy fingernails. Another hand clamped her other tit, and there 
were several more hands playing lightly like rat's feet along her thighs and 
the sides of her curvaceous flanks. Her face contorted in ecstasy, every 
muscle in her body alive with the delightful tingling of her nerves. The 
flat plane of her luscious dilated pussy was presented up to the virginal 
brute in naked offering. It was his to violate at will. 

Billy grinned down at it, saliva beginning to dribble from his slack mouth, 
his lips bared back over gleaming white teeth. He looked down at the lovely 
young nymph's face, then at her graceful tapering fingers wrapped around his 
thick member. He shuffled forward on his knees a few inches as she peered up 
between her drawn-back knees into his face. 

"Ram it to her snooty little pussy, kid!" exclaimed someone at her side, and 
with a flick of his hips, the over-endowed nitwit did as he was told. He 
forced the fat, chunky head about two inches between the quivering lips, 
brutally expanding the tender yet stubborn flesh almost to the tearing 
point. Nancy threw back her head and gritted her teeth against the wave of 
pain she knew was coming, for nothing, not even Frank or Joel, this huge had 
ever penetrated her body. 

"Ooooooh, oooooh," she moaned in spite of her readiness. Then the boy's 
prick submerged two more torturing inches, the pain bolting through her body 
like hundreds of needles. And yet she held on, certain that the agony would 
end in time, as soon as her hot, wanting pussy grew accustomed to the 
monster invading her. Billy murmured a panting appreciation of this 
never-before-known pleasure and leaned forward, implanting two inches more, 
and two more, until with a bull-like charge, he sank the enormous cock all 
the way up in her screaming little belly. She bit at the inside of her lower 
lip to keep from crying out as the innocent youth began to fuck into her 
with awkward, killing heaves of his buttocks. She realized that it was not 
his fault, that the others had set him up for this and now he was merely 
obeying his own instincts. 

She finally felt her own instincts take over again as the dull-minded lad 
began a steady revolving motion with his pelvis, guiding his huge cock into 
her upraised cunt until the pain was all but diminished and replaced by a 
lewd demanding appetite for more of the crazed fucking she was receiving. 
The other, impatient cowboys were aware of the change in her and closed in 
more to enjoy every twitch and bounce of the locked bodies. Their faces hung 
within inches of Nancy's straining nakedness, leering as if hypnotized at 
the hard fucking the innocent moron was giving their boss's beautiful, 
conceited young daughter. Nancy felt their hands grabbing at her everywhere, 
massaging and tweaking her tits, crawling and clawing at every area of her 
body that was available and not covered by Billy. 

She lifted her head a trifle to look at them, a feeling of genuine pride 
coming over her as she sensed their wild desire and strange respect for her. 
Anyone, particularly a mere girl of fourteen, whose cunt could swallow up 
Billy's fantastic cock, and actually like it, was worthy of any man's 
respect. Over and over, they rubbed and lewdly caressed her pinioned body; 
on each side, their eager paws covered her, enhancing her pleasure all the 
more. She felt a fingertip probing at her rectum beneath the mammoth balls 
slapping into her upturned buttocks with every stroke Billy made into her. 
She winced slightly as it paused and probed, suddenly popping inside the 
snug nether ring and worming deeply around at the spongy, tender flesh 
inside. It rolled around, enlarging the tiny opening as much as it had been 
when Sammy's two fingers were in there, until at last the very palm of the 
invading hand lay flat against her rounded ass-cheeks. 

Her passion had reached hurricane proportions and she never even flinched 
when she felt an unidentified cock nudging against her lips in an effort to 
gain entrance into the soft warm interior of her mouth. She relaxed her jaw 
muscles and opened the pink cavern to admit the unfamiliar penis inside. 
Craning her neck to that side, she immediately engulfed the solid throbbing 
cock and began to suck crazily, swallowing the small emissions of semen as 
though the substance were the last morsel of food on earth. 

Billy's orgasm came without warning, the sticky white sperm jetting into the 
inhumanly stretched confines of her cunt in a continual flow, filling her 
with his hot scalding jizm until the flesh-filled orifice could hold no 
more. She felt him raise his weight tremblingly from her loins only to be 
replaced by another weight, the body of a man she could not even see from 
her cock-sucking position. The new cock began at once to fuck in and out of 
her open cunt while the finger imbedded in her rectum played against the 
thin membrane separating it from her vaginal channel. She could sense it 
pressing upward, feeling the strange cock bumping against it. This 
outrageous debasement sent fresh masochistic chills of delight coursing 
through her and she fucked back against the prick and the finger in her 
without shame. Hands from everywhere assisted her fevered humping hips, 
pulling her up and down in a depraved rhythm that kept harmony with the 
instruments fucking into her in three different places. She was a sexual 
object now, a machine functioning expertly in the service of pleasure. 

One after another, the roomful of hired hands took turns on her, keeping her 
hot wet cunt and soft sucking mouth filled with male flesh. Great pools of 
thick cum formed under her buttocks and below her cock-stretched mouth, not 
even drying before new deposits were added on top of them. Nancy's mouth 
ached and yet she sucked and licked and swallowed without once slowing her 
tempo. Her hollowing and bloating cheeks were smeared with glistening saliva 
and semen and portions of the sperm she had not been able to swallow fast 
enough. 

It was this scene, this incredible sight, that of eight naked men fucking 
and using his young daughter's enflamed body in any way they chose, that 
confronted Mel Leeds as he stood unnoticed at the open door to Nancy's 
bedroom. Never, not in a million years, had he supposed that such a 
spectacle would be taking place in his own house . . . with his own little 
Nancy in the starring role. At first he was enraged--prepared to kill every 
last one of the plundering cowboys with his bare hands, but soon that anger 
converted into the vehement desire he, himself, had had for the girl since 
her young form had matured and flowered into near-womanhood. He was suddenly 
obsessed with only one thing: his eagerness to enjoy the delicious fruits of 
adolescence that his cowhands were so rapidly partaking of. 

The broad-shouldered rancher's cock jumped to attention in his trousers and 
he hastily began to strip off his clothes, his shorts still dragging from 
one ankle as he moved toward the bed to have his turn atop his exquisite 
daughter's young belly. 

Nancy was completely unaware of her father's presence and had no way of 
discerning the difference between his thrusting organ and that of the next 
man sliding deeply into the ravaged flesh of her vagina. 

She lost track of how many times she had climaxed during the orgiastic 
session. She knew only that she had achieved the sublime heights of 
fulfillment she had been thinking of, day and night, for the past two weeks 
. . . since her dream of the black stallion and the enlightening 
conversation she had had with Frank afterwards. And now she was thoroughly 
drained, cum-splattered, her tired limbs aching to be relieved of the last 
men gamely fucking her at both ends. Nothing in the entire universe could 
dredge up one more ounce of enthusiasm from her sated being. 

 CHAPTER 10 

Nancy and Mel Leeds stood side by side, each with a foot cocked on the 
bottom rail of the training corral. It was almost a week after she had been 
gang-raped in her bedroom, and she had been enjoying a new hold on her 
father ever since that afternoon. After clearing the room of the others, Mel 
had fallen to his knees in front of Nancy to beg forgiveness for what he had 
done. There had even been tears in his eyes; it was the first time she had 
seen him weep since her mother's death. A feeling of pity had come over her 
and she had cradled his lion-like head in her arms, soothing him and 
swearing that she had not been hurt, that she had truly liked the 
gang-fucking. . . . Later, there had been honest talk between them 
concerning their future sex relationship, and they had mutually agreed to 
continue to enjoy what they had at their disposal. From that day on, Mel 
came to her room every evening after the household was quiet for the night. 

Now, they were watching Sammy and several of the cowhands attempting to put 
the unruly black stallion through his paces at the end of a trot rope. But 
the outlaw was not cooperating; instead of pacing around the men in a 
circle, the stubborn creature reared high on his hind-legs and seemed on the 
verge of charging the tormenting humans. Sammy was in a towering anger. The 
blood had flared up in his cheeks and turned their white to violet, and his 
crooked lip was wrenched so high that the canines of his upper jaw were 
visible as he approached his boss and Nancy. He advanced with his head 
forward like a steer, with burning, bloodshot, watery eyes. 

"Mr. Leeds, we can't do nothin' with that loco horse," Sammy snarled when he 
reached them. "If I had my way, I'd shoot the fiend right between the eyes 
and call it good riddance!" 

"Well, you don't have your way, Sammy, and as long as you work for me, 
you'll not harm a hair on that stallion," Mel boomed as he felt his own 
anger rising. "Get the stud into the holding pen and shoot him full of that 
tranquilizer. . . . Then maybe you expert horsemen can handle the poor 
drugged bastard." 

"Whatever you say, Mr. Leeds," Sammy growled as he wheeled angrily and 
walked back to the group of men he was working with in the corral. Mel took 
his daughter's arm, then, the pair walked leisurely toward the ranch house. 

"Honey, I was just thinkin', " Mel said thoughtfully, "what do you plan to 
do if those buggers make another try to get at you again? . . . Are you 
goin' to fight them off or let them have their way. I know I ain't got much 
room to talk, but it don't seem right that a pretty young girl like you 
should be makin' a bunch of no account cowhands happy any time they decide 
to mess around with you." 

"Daddy, to be honest with you, I don't know what I'll do," Nancy lied, 
smiling gaily to put her father's mind at rest. Even though her bruised and 
battered body had been sore for days afterwards, the interlude with the 
eight men nine, counting her father had been the most exciting time she had 
ever experienced. She knew the men must be talking behind her back, calling 
her a little slut, but she really felt a minimum of shame about it. More 
important, she took comfort in the fact that, until her return to school, 
she need never again suffer the frustration she had during those two barren 
weeks after Frank's departure. She had a whole battery of pleasure-giving 
cocks any time she wanted them. Even the possibility that she indeed might 
be a nympho-maniac hardly bothered her. If she was one, she was thankful. 

"Anyway, don't worry," she added, "because 

I'm capable of taking care of myself now. I've matured quite a bit since 
I've been home this time." 

"By God, you've done that, all right," Mel laughed softly, putting his arm 
around her as they entered the house. 

Nancy could not stop her hands from trembling as she sat alone in her room, 
holding the still-sealed envelope containing Frank Summerwell's letter. 
Evidently it had arrived that morning and had been placed on her dresser by 
Maria. Finally she could not restrain herself another second and tore open 
the envelope, her eyes eagerly searching at the bottom of the page for the 
blonde writer's signature and then rising to begin reading the contents. 

Dear Nancy, I'm sorry I've not had an opportunity to write before this, but 
I know you understand how busy I am. I'm one member of a small writing staff 
and am working with the others to meet a rapidly approaching deadline. 

In any case, I miss you and very often think of the marvelous times we had 
together at my cabin and up in the mountains. I hope that you've been able 
to forgive me for what might be considered as my having taken advantage of 
your innocence. I was lonely, though, and lonely, passionate men sometimes 
do selfish things. 

As for me here, when I'm not working which isn't very often I've been dating 
a lovely girl, a member of the staff, and we've shared moments together that 
reminded me of you. 

I hope we meet again in the not too distant future. Meanwhile, please write 
and tell me what you've been up to at the ranch. 

Love, Frank 

Nancy sat quietly for a moment, allowing the impersonal-seeming words to 
sink in, and then bent over to place her face in her hands as the flood of 
tears rose to her eyes. He had no right, she thought, no right at all to 
write her such a cold, offhand letter, one in which he had the unmitigated 
audacity to mention that his latest bed-partner reminded him of her . . . as 
though their bodies and minds were replicas of one another. Well, dammit, 
she would sit down and let him know just how different she was! 

She was finished less than an hour later and leaned back in her chair to 
stretch, taking up her answer to Frank to reread before sealing it up in an 
envelope. 

Dear Frank, I've just read your letter and am replying right away . . . 
while I have time. I'm having seven or eight friends in for a little party 
this afternoon and must get ready. 

I appreciate your concern for me, but I really insist that you don't worry 
yourself. You see, I'm truly grateful for the time we spent together this 
summer. You relieved me of my virginity, true, but I'm finding out now that 
it had been a greater burden than I ever realized. I may not be the 'real 
woman' you said that a few 'fucks' would make me, but I'm doing my level 
best with the resources at hand to rise to everyone's expectations of me. So 
far, I'm more pleased with my popularity than with whatever progress I'm 
making toward genuine womanhood. 

I'm happy for you that you've found a satisfactory playmate who reminds you 
of me. And I hope you're lucky enough to remember her right name. I can 
imagine the distress she would feel if, in the midst of passion, you grunted 
out 'Oh Nancy' instead of her real name. 

Daddy has been working with the wild stallion, having his men try to make 
the 'black bastard' behave. It seems dubious, though, that the horse will 
ever do anything but climb mares and yearn to run free again. 

I'll be returning to school in two weeks, so it's not likely that we'll see 
each other for quite some time. Until then, keep thinking of me as you have 
been, for I'll be doing exactly what you'll be doing when your lady 
co-worker helps you relax. 

Cheers, Nancy 

After addressing and sealing the envelope, Nancy cupped her own breasts and 
then dropped her hands to run them over her luxurious thighs. It occurred to 
her that perhaps she would have some "friends" in that afternoon if not all 
of them, at least three or four, just to help pass the time until her 
father's visit later that night. 

Humming to herself, she crossed the room and stood gazing out the window 
toward the Guadalupe Range. The sky was a greenish-blue color and there were 
enormous tumbling white clouds drifting south over the peaks. She felt as 
free and high as they were . . . and yet a great sadness filled her as well. 
She was thinking of the leaderless band of wild mares still roaming 
somewhere up in the dark canyons, their eyes and ears on the alert for some 
sign of the magnificent black stallion. 

"I wonder if they'll choose another," Nancy said aloud as she turned away. 
"And, if they do, what he'll be like. . . ? 


End
