Long summer days on the family ranch tend to slip by so swiftly. It was early June when I joined my family here to tend to the horses and plow the fields and already it is September. How the time flies when you spend your days out here. It’s so tranquil, even when you have to be up at sunrise to help with the animals. But the upside to that is that by mid-day I am relaxing on the front porch, reading a book or taking a stroll around the watering hole on the far end of our property.
In the evening, the summer haze hovers over the fields like a translucent amber blanket waiting to put the crops to bed, tucking them in sweetly before the chill of the night descends over all. The locusts buzz in the distance and the mosquitoes gather around the porch lights as we play cards and sip lemonade. It’s muggy, but a comfortable kind of humid, like natures hug on your sun-kissed skin. One such evening as the sun was setting over the wheat fields just before dinner, a pickup truck came barreling down the gravel drive.
“It’s Carly,” my kid sister screamed, jumping up and running down the steps to the drive.
“Carly’s here,” my father repeated, nodding to my mother to go in a set the table for one more.
I picked up the cards and placed them back in their case, looking out to see who was driving Carly. My father nodded to me to mind my own business and assist my mother. He was a stern man; genuine and hard-working. Knowing my place, I grabbed the half-empty glasses of lemonade and followed my mom indoors to help.
“Better make it for two,” I told my mom.
“Two? Who else is joining us?” she asked, frantically lifting two plates from the cabinet and wiping them off with a cloth. Her excitement was overwhelming. We hadn’t seen Carly in months. She had signed on as a youth counselor for a summer camp with her college roommate in June. We had all hoped she would make it to the ranch before the season was over, but weren’t sure the date of her return.
“Looks like Carly brought a boy home.” I replied, a bit more unenthusiastically than I imagined it sounding.
Carly was my older sister; the tall, brunette, athletic one. Since going away to college, I hadn’t seen much of her, nor heard much from here either. We had been so close growing up, sharing the same room and friends. She was only a year older than me, but she looked like as woman already. She matured faster than me, and although I just celebrated my eighteenth birthday last May, I still look every bit fifteen and and in high school. I’ll probably use that to my advantage when we’re old ladies, but right it now, it’s just plain annoying.
“Oh boy,” my mother joyously exclaimed, “a boy!”
I watched as she tousled her hair and pressed her apron with her hands, smoothing the wrinkles from her waist down. My mom was funny. Although I was quite sure she and my dad still had romantic evenings together, I think she longed for the attention of a man. The thought of a youthful gentleman in the house gave her the opportunity to feel sexy, yet still mature enough to be Mrs. Jennings. It was cute.
“Kendall,” my mom ushered, “take these and set the table.” She handed me the two plates and quickly left to make herself presentable.
As I filled the glasses and set the silverware, I could hear the engine of the truck cease and the doors slam. My kid sister squealed and I heard my father introduce himself to a young man. Carly’s voice echoed in the distance and I could imagine there was a lot of hugging going on between the four of them.
“Kendall!” my dad called. “Come out here and greet your sister!”
I left the table and slowly walked to the front door, peering through the screen to see the commotion. Carly stood with her arms around our little sister and my father stood with his arm over the shoulder of a brawny young man while they inspected under the hood of the truck.
“That’s a nice engine,” my father said. “How much horsepower does this thing get?” Leave it to men to discuss their toys. The door creaked as I opened it and I walked out onto the porch, waving to Carly.
“Kendall!” she called out, trotting up the drive to reach me. “Come, I want you to meet my boyfriend!” She grabbed my hand and pulled me down the steps. With me in tow, Carly ran up to the truck and tapped her boyfriend on the shoulder. “Andrew,” she started, “this is my sister, Kendall.”
Andrew turned slowly as the setting sun caught his cheeks and eyes just under the brim of his cowboy hat. Its rays shimmered across his green eyes, highlighting the amber flecks sprinkled within his irises. His skin was tan, dusted with a strawberry blonde five o’clock shadow. His square jaw gave his youthful face a mature quality that contradicted the cute dimple in his right cheek as he smiled and held out his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Kendall,” he said with a deep voice as he tipped his hat to me.
“You, too,” I swooned. His looks startled me a bit. I was taken back by his handsome demeanor and charm.
I pulled my hand away coyly, trying not to stare at the way his shirt clung to what I could only image was the body of Adonis. His tee stretched across his chest, revealing the definition of his muscles, and neatly tucked away below his belt buckle. My eyes continued south, below his belt to see a slight bulge hiding behind the zipper of his fitted jeans. The muscles in his thighs pressed tightly against the denim. He was all man.
“Where’s Mom?” Carly interrupted, oblivious to my instant attraction.
“Inside,” my father replied. “Let us join her.” He took Andrew by the shoulders and led him up the walk with me and my sister’s in tow.
“So,” Carly whispered, excited to have brought her first boy home to meet the family, “what do you think? Cute, huh?”
“Sure,” I agreed, trying not to let on that a warm tingle was crawling through my panties at the very site of the snug fit of Andrew’s jeans hugging his ass as he walked ahead of us.
Inside, Mom was introduced and dinner commenced. We all sat around the table, exchanging stories about the summer, the crops, the horses and camp as we passed the food around and delighted in the joys of having the family together. I was sitting across from Carly and Andrew. Once during prayer and once while Carly was talking to our mother, I caught Andrew staring at me. A few more stolen glances and his dimple began to show again. I was beginning to feel warm inside.
“So Andrew,” my father asked, “where are you from?”
“A little town down south, Sir,” he replied. “It’s called Westfield. My family is from there. My grandma still lives in the house she grew up in.”
“So how did you and Carly meet?” my father continued.
“Howard,” my mother interjected, “that’s for me to ask.” She smiled like a teenager herself, twirling her hair between her fingertips and looked at Andrew. “Andrew,” she mimicked my dad, “how did you meet Carly?”
“Well, Ma’am,” he tipped his hat again, forgetting it was polite to take it off at the dinner table, “we were both camp counselors at Tipton this summer. And as you know,” he nodded to Carly on his right, “your daughter has a lovely smile. When I first saw her, I thought to myself, now there’s a smile I would love to see every day.”
The whole table cooed over his adorable story. Not only was he easy on the eyes-very easy on the eyes-but he was also a gentleman. Although, I swore I saw him wink at me when Carly looked away.
When dinner was over, Carly and Andrew took a walk under the stars while I helped Mom clear the table and wash the dishes. Dad put our kid sister to bed and took his usual place in the living room nestled into his old leather recliner. It was no secret he would read the paper until he was fast asleep and his glasses fell onto the floor. My mom would simply pick them up, set them on the coffee table and place a blanket over my father before turning in herself. I, on the other hand, would sneak across the lawn in the dark and slip into my room in the bunkhouse where I enjoyed the privacy of sleeping in a separate house on our property.
As I climbed up the latter to the loft where I slept, I looked out the window. I watched as Carly walked Andrew to his room; a small sleeping quarters near the stable. They lingered for a few moments, exchanges laughs and kisses under the light of the moon. I could tell she was happy. Although a bit envious, I was happy for her. She seemed to have met the perfect guy.
Perfect, I thought to myself, in so many ways. My hand slowly slinked down my stomach, finding the waistband of my jeans as I watched them through the window. My virgin femininity tingled with curiosity, calling my fingers and wishing they were his. I slipped them inside my jeans, carefully gliding them inside my panties toward my warm yearning. I had never touched myself before in this way, but the sensation within me that Andrew inspired had me feverishly longing to be touched; by him, by anyone, by my own fingers if necessary. As my fingertips tenderly caressed my skin, discovering my damp slit, I unzipped my jeans and peeled them down my thighs.
The humid air combined with my escalating body heat created tiny drops of perspiration on my body. I could feel the dirt from the fields sticking to my damp skin and my jeans sticking to my legs, hugging my knees and calves. My panties clung to my hips as they crept into my crevice and soaked with anticipation. My fingers separated the cotton from my tender mounds and slipped into places I had never explored before. I was wet, soft and swollen to the touch.
Carly finished her goodbye and walked back to the house. Andrew leaned against the stable, the moon casting shadows off his body as he waved her off. His brawn bulged from his thin tee as he picked a piece of hay from the bale and chewed it casually. I imagined what he might look like once he went inside and disrobed for bed. The way his jeans hugged his body had my imagination racing out of control and my fingers working steadily to keep up.
I found a sensitive knob between my slit that created a warmer tingle than before. If I pressed it gently and rubbed in a circular motion I could make my knees buckle and my heart race. The warmth of my throbbing lips saturated my fingers as I rubbed harder and faster. Oh Andrew, I imagined, yes! I had never felt so naughty. I felt mischievous and deviant. My body was quivering under my touch as I pictured Andrew’s hands plunging into my panties and exploring the depths of my desires. The deeper I fell into my fantasy, the deeper inside he traveled, discovering a secret place inside me I never knew existed. Until…I moaned aloud and my fingers soaked with my own essence. I buckled over, trembling and exhausted as tiny aftershocks rocked my body. I had just pleasured myself for the first time.
Looking out to make sure no one caught me in the act with my hand deep inside my panties, I noticed Andrew was gone. Signing with relief and disappointment, I pulled up my jeans and climbed downstairs. I felt dirty. Naughty dirty. Aside from the sweat and dust from the day’s labor, I felt I needed t not only wash away the filth, but also my sins.
I walked out of the bathroom with a towel around my body and my hair dripping down my back. As I made a cup of tea to take upstairs with me, there was a knock on the door. Assuming it was Carly sneaking over after dad dozed off to tell me all about her goodnight kiss with Andrew, I opened the door.
“Howdy,” he said, with a devilish smile. It was Andrew.
“Uh, hi,” I hesitated, trying to cover my shoulders as my hair fell forward. It was clear I was uncomfortably exposed. “Carly’s not here.”
“I’m not looking for Carly,” he retorted quickly, pushing the door open and slipping inside. He closed the door quietly behind him and took off his hat, his sandy hair falling across his forehead.
I stood there in my towel, tiny beads of water dripping down my legs and from the ends of my hair. I was nervous, feeling insecure under his gaze. His piercing eyes looked me over with a stare that resembled a predator sizing up his prey. My breaths became shallow as my eyes wandered south again. Part of me was sizing him up as well. He caught me staring. I felt embarrassed and turned my head to blush.
Just as swiftly as I took my eyes off of him, he lunged toward me, pushing me against the wall. His fingers laced in mine, he forced my hands up and pressed his body against me hungrily. My towel loosened and unraveled. The only thing keeping it on was the resistance between our bodies. He moved in slowly, his breath warm against my neck and face. The air between our mouths was hot and moist, saturated with the carnal scent of passion.
“I saw you looking at me,” he whispered, sliding his tongue across my cheek.
I trembled, frightened, yet strangely turned on by his advances. “I…” I stuttered.
“Shhh,” he insisted. “This is what you wanted, right?”
I couldn’t deny it so I said nothing.
“Your sister is a good girl,” he began. “She wants to wait for marriage. But her little sister,” he continued, “is a naughty girl. I can see it in your eyes.” He kissed my neck feverishly, making a moist path of hungry nibbles upward until he met my mouth. “So, Kendall, what are you going to do about it?” he breathed across my quivering lips, waiting for my response.
I took a deep breath and hesitated. I was a good girl who wanted so desperately to be bad. Here he was, the object of my fingering desires, pressed against me, his manhood thrust hard into my thigh, my towel and his jeans the only thing standing between my fantasy and the loss of my virginity. It was too much and I briefly prayed my sister would never find out.
I pressed my lips firmly against his and devoured his mouth in a way I had only seen in the movies. His hands released their grip and snaked down to caress the curves of my body. His manly grip sunk deep into my hips and waist as he pulled me into him, thrusting himself forward and grinding his bulging hunger further into my thigh. Backed against the wall, I surrendered to his strength, allowing him to explore just how vulnerable I was to his charm.
My towel fell to the floor as I clutched the back of his neck and pulled him into our tangled kiss. I sucked his tongue into my mouth, entwining mine with hasty lust, gasping for breaths between our kisses. He pushed my wet hair away from my face, pulling it behind my back as his fingers clawed my arch on their way down to clench my ass. I lifted one leg and wrapped it around his waist, pulling him closer to me.
“This is bad,” I whispered between breaths.
“I know,” he groaned back, ripping his jeans open at the fly to release the pressure building under their restraint.
He took my hand and shoved it inside his jeans. He wasn’t wearing any boxers and my palm instantly met the tender, warm head of his eager manhood. He flinched under my touch and then thrust himself into my grip. I wrapped my hand around his shaft and pulled him from his jeans. He wiggled his body from their hold around his hips and they dropped to his mid thigh. I anxiously stroked him, caressing every inch of his strength. He was everything I had imagined. His brawn was not only hidden beneath his shirt, but further south as well.
“Oh my God,” I moaned as I realized just how big he was.
His hand slipped between my thighs and pushed them apart, making room for his approach. He cupped my femininity, slyly slipping his middle finger between my precious lips to feel the wetness between them.
“You’re so wet,” he mumbled as he nibbled on my mouth. “I knew you were naughty.”
That warm tingle returned, seeping between my legs and up into my stomach. It was an equal mix of nervous anticipation and guilt. I wanted his so bad, but I was scared and timid. I had never been with a man before. The only thing that had ever penetrated my purity prior to this were my fingers just an hour before. My hormones were racing and my body was reacting to him in ways I didn’t know possible. My hips thrust toward him, my thighs spread and I wanted him to touch me. I couldn’t get close enough.
Panting with an unquenchable thirst for more, I let him slip his fingers inside me. Paving a path within my moist passage, he burrowed his fingers deep, almost lifting me up where I stood. I squealed and relinquished any resistance. Twisting and plunging, he explored my tenderness, encouraging me to secrete with pleasure. My supple body bounced with his rhythm as he moved his kisses south to my breasts. Flicking the pink peaks of my nipples with his tongue, he urged me to give in to his seduction. With my flesh in his mouth and his fingers inside me, I finally succumbed to his desires.
“I’m a bad girl,” I assured him.
“Yes, you are,” he reminded me, penetrating me with a hurts-so-good thrust of his hand. “You’re a very bad girl.”
“Uh huh,” I managed to say as I tried to breath. I was intoxicated by his seduction.
“Are you going to show me how bad you are?” he asked, making it more of a statement than a question.
“Uh huh,” I agreed again. I was at a loss for words, sinking into his body helplessly.
“That’s what I want to hear,” he groaned again. “Now show me.”
I lifted my hand to my mouth and slipped my fingers inside my mouth, moistening them with my saliva. I slowly lowered them and placed them on his plump tip, circling around his head. He moaned as I leisurely knelt before him, sliding his shaft between my soft breasts. I looked up at him with a longing stare, stroking him as I squeezed his girth inside my suppleness. With every stroke, I looked into his green eyes, hungrily, kissing his head as it got closer to my lips with each stroke. His eagerness to feel the warm embrace of my mouth got the best of him and he lifted his hips to reach it. I finally took his succulent head in my mouth, my tongue teasing his tender skin. His hand guided my head and pushed me hard into his rigid member, filling my mouth. I fought for air as he thrust down my throat and retreated.
“Mmm,” is all that escaped his lips.
I was hungry for him. Filling my mouth was not satiating my yearning desire to please him. I kissed him softly, licking the rim of his tip and sliding my lips back down around him a few more times. Once he was sufficiently revved up, I stood up and turned around. His hands clawed at my curves, bending me forward into the wall. I braced myself, spread my legs, and guided him by his shaft toward me. The soft skin of his ripe head slipped between my pink mounds, gliding effortlessly between them. I took a deep breath and released the swelling tension of my most secret of places. His roundness tucked inside the inner rim of my feminine embrace and paused momentarily.
“No one ever finds out about this,” he whispered, reminding me that our tryst was sinful. My hair clung to my back as he brushed it aside and bit my neck feverishly. I fell under his devilish spell once more and gave myself to him.
“No,” I assured him. “Never!” There was a guilty pleasure quickly seducing my heart, as I crossed it to prove my secrecy. I was breathless.
He pushed himself inside me, slowly widening my tight tenderness to allow his plunging manhood a full introduction to my virgin blossom. I could feel every inch of his manliness filling my pinkness, squeezing into my taut passage, mining for more. I moaned aloud, squealing in pleasure and pain. He reached up and covered my mouth, silencing my shrill voice.
“Shhh,” he soothed me. “I’ll be gentle.”
Every pulsating inch of his vessel was inside me as I clamped down around him, holding him in place. With a slow and steady stroke, he pulled away, leaving a narrow path of swollen thirst in his wake. I bucked up against him, thrusting him back inside.
“Oh, you like that?” he asked rhetorically, grabbing my hair like reigns and pulling away again. “I knew you were the bad sister!”
My round ass bent toward him, begging for him to fill me again. He taunted me, teasing my quivering clit with his head. Gliding through my slit and circling his tip around my awaiting hollow, he snaked in and retracted over and over again, never fully entering me to quench my burning desire. I bucked again, thrusting my hips back forcefully as I swallowed him with an eagerness to finally be taken.
“Take me,” I begged him, giving him permission to make love to my body any which way he pleased.
And just like that, Andrew cinched my hips in his strong grip and whisked me around to the counter where my tea still steeped. Propping me up and setting me on the counter, he spread my legs and guided his shaft between them. I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled him into me. A solid stroke to the depths of my virginity made me squeal again.
He pressed his hands down on my shoulders to meet my resistance and plunged inside me again, filling my pleasure walls to the brim with his flesh. The pressure inside my hips sent chills up my spine as my skin chilled under his touch. My ripe nipples hardened on my pert breasts, calling for his kisses. He cupped my breast and took my flesh in his mouth again, kissing and suckling among his groans.
“You’re so tight,” he exclaimed, his voice muffled.
I was too high on sexual ecstasy to reply. Something deep inside me was happening. Tiny tremors of tingling bliss were forming. I was swelling inside as my tenderness palpitated against his shaft. I was sensing a crescendo of orgasmic proportions pulsating through my veins. My heart raced, my body shuttered and my voice squeaked as a waterfall of heavenly delight exploded around him, seeping down his manhood. This only excited him more as he grew within my moist hug, gliding slowly against my intensity.
Pushing my mug of tea aside hastily, he climbed up on the counter and laid his body on mine. With his jeans still around his knees and his shirt still hanging over his body, he crawled between my knees, slipping deeper inside as he held his weight over me with his arms. His hips thrust downward, burrowing for his climax. I reached under his shirt and hastily explored the planes of his chiseled chest. Digging my fingernails into his skin, I clawed him hungrily, urging him to fulfill his desires. Pumping vigorously between my thighs, his deep moans signaled his release.
He fell into me with all of his weight and my body buckled under him. Pressed against the countertop, I finally breathed in exhaustion. My thighs throbbed as the last of his strength pulsated down his shaft inside me. He climbed off of me quickly, pulling up his jeans and buckling his belt. I still laid nude on the counter, my legs spread wide open. Tucking in his shirt, he reminded me, “Don’t tell your sister about this.” He picked my towel up off the floor and flung it in my direction.
“I won’t,” I assured him, covering my bare body, feeling vulnerable again.
“Not a word,” he repeated, holding his finger up to his lips as he backed out of the front door, grabbing his hat and slipping out of the bunkhouse, disappearing into the night.
The next morning, I awoke to my kid sister screaming as she ran across the lawn and banged on my door.
“Kendall!” she yelled. “Kendall, wake up!”
I slipped an oversized t-shirt over my head and climbed down to the kitchen, walking past the mug full of tea still sitting on the counter. I opened the door to find my little sister waiting for me with a huge smile across her face.
“Kendall, you missed it! You missed it! Get dressed and come to breakfast, Andrew has just proposed to Carly!”