It took a few minutes to calm down and keep up appearances. He and Lucy had to get home and take care of some chores but they promised to come back in the afternoon and take up where we left off.
It's strange how fast a person changes when they start messing around with sex. The beautiful poems I'd enjoyed, the stories, the movie magazines, all seemed so useless and boring now. I had a habit and need, both of which demanded so much of my attention. I wished I could go back and start all over again. I hadn't realized how well off I was before all this happened.
Going inside, I lay down on the couch. Rubbing my tits absently I thought of Gary, back home, waiting for me, and couldn't make up my mind if I could continue seeing him. I still liked him but so much had happened so much I couldn't tell him about.
I slid a hand inside my pants while I thought about how useless I was right then and how hopeless my future would be. I had to snap out of it – I just had to!
Getting up, I wandered around the place, my cunt on fire and my belly aching with need. I wanted to find another way to help, or at least [missing text].
Running back to the barn I found a piece of rope, a saw-horse and an old bullwhip. I dusted the whip off and nailed the handle to the saw-horse, with the fancy knot, rounded into a knob on the end, sticking up securely.
I dragged the saw-horse and the piece of rope out to the swing. Looking it over I found that whoever had put the swing up had made it perfect for my use. A heavy piece of chain had been bolted around the branch with a big swivel on the end. The swing was tied to it by a piece of rope about three foot long. I didn't have any trouble trying another piece around the bottom of the tire and securing it to the swivel.
Tightening the rope until the tire was level, like a toilet seat ready for use, I knotted it tightly. Then I lined the saw-horse and whip handle up under it and went to the house for some Vaseline.
It took about fifteen minutes to get the whip greased and the swing adjusted so I wouldn't take more than seven or eight inches of the handle inside me. When I was ready, I pulled my pants and underwear off and climbed into the tire.
My ass hung with just the roundest, lushest part of the meaty cheeks below the tire. My legs felt cramped. They were forced up, resting against my chin, mashing my braless tits into my chest. Reaching below, I found the handle and guided it along the hair-fringed gully to its mark.
The leather strands felt rugged. The cold, cocklike thing bent with the effort. When I let go, it pushed forcefully against my muscular little opening. The slick cunt-ring relaxed and gave way. The handle shot inside me with one quick blow.
Because of the way I was sitting my womb was within three inches of my cunt-mouth. The big knob hammered against it and forced it back up an inch or two. The weight of my body forced the handle to remain bent, making it push around inside of my cunt at angles.
Shoving myself around, by hitting the tree with my hand, I found I was able to spin on the rough leather shaft. It was unbelievable. I swear I could feel every single strand of braided leather, not only on the knob, but also on the rest of the shaft. It burned, it rubbed, it pressed, it mashed, it pulled, it stroked and it pinched.
At first my hanging cuntlips were only moist. The whip caught and held them, releasing them only when they'd been pulled to their limits and wouldn't go further without being torn from my body. The delicious things that did to my clit were just super. It shot out of its tent and burned into the greasy leather.
The scenery whirled around me, making me dizzy. My knees trembled and pressed into my tits. The nipples stiffened and burned into my blouse. The tire pressed hard against my skin. Its rough, firm edges bit into me, adding just the right amount of pain to the situation.
There were no tiny tingles, no easy warming, no gentle fires to slowly build my need. The minute that big thing slammed against my womb and I started the first spin, I was consumed with fire. Every fiber, every cell, every nerve in my body was full of passion. I didn't feel or think of anything but the hot need for an orgasm that burned through me from tit to cunt.
As the burning, electrical fires built higher and higher, I pushed the swing out so it swayed as well as spun. The whip felt so wonderful, stroking in and out and whipping about inside me.
I laughed drunkenly. Because I was drunk – drunk on ninety-proof, home-brewed sex. The power in my cunt grew and I was caught in a crushing, vise-grip of heat. Would this be the time? Would this be what it took to give me the promised thrill, the shove over the edge of eternal bliss?
My mind filled with images of girls fingering themselves, of demanding cocks humping, full swaying tits and assholes dripping drops of sparkling cum. But most of all Lucy, getting her cookies off. The twisted, strained pleasure on her face, her glazed eyes and trembling ass, tormented me.
The glorious thrills of my earlier orgasms haunted me. My brother's cock, my sister-in-law's big jugs and cunt, the filthy cocks of the motorcycle gang, grabbed and tore at my mind.
Fantasies filled me. I saw myself as Sleeping Beauty, being awoken by her Prince Charming with a fuck instead of a kiss. I saw myself as a whore, lying on an army cot, with my legs stretched open, waiting for the first of the thousands of men lined up, their cocks hard and naked, waiting to fuck me.
I felt myself boiling and I was being lifted up, higher, higher, higher, higher. I passed the normal height and kept going. I wasn't walking or tiptoeing. There wasn't any struggle. I just shot smoothly up. I was hotter and my need more desperate than it had been at its worse during the orgy, and still I kept climbing.
The ball in my cunt pulled back and forth, making some of my cushions, pads, muscles and organs stretch while others tightened. One second it pounded my womb, the next, the back of my cunt. One minute it was tearing at my cuntlips, the next it was burning my womb again.
My stomach felt like I'd drunk scalding-hot water. My asshole was popping and farting. Piss still dribbled from my little pee-hole I could smell my piss. I could smell my sweat and the musty heat of my crotch. My skin tingled and my chest hurt. My heart pounded and hammered inside my chest. Worse, the demanding itch that the spinning, dancing leather cock made grew worse and worse.
"Please! Oh please! Dear God, don't torture me! Jesus, Mary, Joseph – Saint Christopher – anyone – please! Oh, ooooh! Please don't do this to me!" I screeched.
"All right for you, mother fuckers! Lucifer – Satan! Please do something! Help meeeee…" I whimpered.
Neither side paid a bit of attention to me. I was on my own. My body had gone haywire and nothing would help me. The heat, the thrills, the need, the pain, the fear, the longing, kept building inside, and then I fainted.
When I came to I was hanging limply in the swing, the whip handle still inside my cunt and the heat gone. I reached down with an effort and gingerly worked the piece of braided leather out of my hole. When I'd managed to get it out I struggled weakly up and out of the tire. I tried to stand and found that my legs wouldn't hold me.
Lowering myself onto the lawn I reached for my shorts and worked them over my legs and hips. Rubbing my cunt gingerly, I pulled myself back up and, bracing myself against the saw-horse for a few minutes, let the circulation return to normal in my legs before attempting to move.
I tried to swear off sex. When John and Lucy showed up that afternoon I made all kinds of excuses. My cunt had been so overheated it seemed to be short-circuited. It was dead. I told the teens I had a really weak stomach that afternoon and would throw up if I played around. I tried to get them to play cards with me but they refused. I knew by the way they looked at each other that I'd really started something. They would end up going to the swimming hole but I doubted that they'd get much swimming done.
"Come on, Sally, let's go for a ride," he pleaded.
My heart told me not to – but I was so lonely and scared of myself that I gave in without thinking about it and struggled up onto the horse, in front of him.
He kept his hands locked around my tummy for a while. Then, coyly, with a guilty grace that made it seem like an accident, found his way, one hand to my crotch and the other to my tit.
The feel of his hands through the heavy layers of cloth made me shudder and start to tremble. I'd lost my battle and knew it. I felt guilty, betrayed and ashamed of myself, but I was powerless to stop.
His hand fumbled with the button on my blouse and then slipped inside. My heart began to throb as he cupped my confined tit and squeezed. Tears welled in my eyes and sprinkled one at a time down my cheek, only to be dried by the breeze and sun.
Field after field vanished behind us as we rode slowly along. We reached a small grove of trees and he stopped the horse long enough to take my blouse off. We didn't say a word to each other as he unfastened and removed my bra. He helped me back into my blouse and I found my own hands unbuttoning my jeans and pulling the fly down so he could get his hands inside and stroke the light nylon of my panties.
His fingers rubbed the softness of my velvety tits and the leathery little nipples until they rose and poked urgently into his clumsy palm. The fingers from his other hand stroked the puffy mound of hair between my thighs and jiggled against my cuntlips as the home rumbled along.
I could feel the juices starting to bubble and flow inside and knew they'd fill my panties at any second. The trickle dammed up at the entrance of my cunt and then I was aware of its wetness making the crevice at the bottom of my ass wet so my cheeks slid wetly against each other, making me feel like I forgot to wipe myself.
His fingers pushed my panties against the slime and it collected there until it soaked through the double layer of nearly moisture-proof cloth and wet the tip of his stroking fingers.
My stomach was on fire again. My cunt had itching powder in it and my boobs ached with need. He slid his hand up, above my hairy triangle, poked beneath the thin, delicate elastic at the top and slid smoothly beneath the airy fabric, into my silky cunt-fur.
I felt him catch the very top of my little crack with the tip of his finger and tug at it curiously. Then he explored lower, tracing the gentle rise of my clit to the very top, where it poked out from the center of its hairy forest.
He wasn't experienced enough to dwell there. Instead he continued on, rubbing the crest of each cunt-petal until they swelled and pouted. His fingers traced the sides, at the bottom of the gully, circled around, just above the bubbling mouth of my cunt, and came back up the center, over my piss-hole, dragging my pussy-oil with it.
I squirmed and moaned in need as I bounced against his finger. One tit lay cupped in his hand and the other jiggled and bounced freely to the movement of the horse. We entered a small ravine and I made him stop so I could turn around and ride backward.
John gave the horse its head, letting her wander through the gully as it wanted while he examined my large tits and played with them. Getting my hands around his, I worked his fly open and struggled until I got his hard-on out of his pants.
We rode like that for several minutes, his hands inside my blouse and pants while I stroked and caressed the cock, jutting, like a fencepost, from his open fly.
When neither one of us could stand it any more he made the mare stop and we climbed down to undress. Laying our clothes on a big rock, so we would be able to find them again, he got up on the horse's back and made me climb in front of him.
He had me raise up, with my back to him so he could position his cock. I sat down, taking the snake inside me. It felt good! God, but it felt good! It was just the right size, satin smooth, hard, strong and warm. My clit drew down with my cuntlips as I settled on the thing and felt my cunt burn against his meat.
He braced himself and dug his heels into the horse's flank. We flew off at a trot, nude, racing to the end of the gully and back again. It was something else. We bounced up and down, into and away from each other. The cock roared in and shot out. One minute it jabbed me from one side, the next it came at me from the other. He let go of my boobs to keep his balance and I bent forward. Wrapping my arms around the mare I hung on for dear life, letting my tits dangle and scrape against either side of the horse's strong neck.
I felt John grab my hips and guide me for a few seconds as we bounced frantically along. His fingers spread my ass and I felt him rubbing my little asshole with his middle finger. He pushed against it teasingly, then harder, more demandingly. Finally he pushed it inside.
We rode that way for a couple of hundred yards and I could feel the delicious sensations of his cock and finger rubbing the same muscle from two directions. The heat rose in me to the right level and hung there, not increasing or burning out.
My mind was gripped by panic. Would it continue to rise beyond that point? If it did, would I pass out again or just go crazy? Would I be lucky enough to climax? Would I lose it? I fought for a solution. There had to be a way. To make it go over the brink and set me blissfully into heaven was what I needed.
My cunt began to quiver. I centered my thoughts, filling my mind with just one thing – orgasm! His cock kept thundering in and out. My tits kept rubbing against the coarse hair of the horse's mane and his finger stayed in my ass, but I barely noticed. I let each sensation melt into the other until they became one. My fires leveled off completely and then – just as he began to babble and spurt inside me – I felt a slight tingle! It wasn't much. I couldn't even be sure it was what I could call the start of an orgasm. It disappeared too fast. But it was a start! It was something to hope for!
I was happy for the first time since the rape. It seemed there really was a chance to return to normal. I felt like standing on the horse's back and shouting for joy – like doing cartwheels in the rocks.
We stopped the horse by our clothes, unplugged and climbed down. John watched as I happily squatted over a rock. I pissed and let his cum drain from my hopeful cunt. He even let me hold his cock while he pissed. I giggled happily and drew a smile in the dust by making his dick whip its stream back and forth.
"Let's try again!" I gushed.
"O.K.!" he agreed happily. "Only this time let's do it on the ground and you suck me off."
I agreed and found a spot in the soft grass. Tackling him as he was going down I managed to get my thighs around his head before he knew what was happening. Then I caught his limp cock between my lips, bit gently, and stretched it like a heavy rubber band.
I knew he wasn't too happy about licking his own cum out of my cunt, but I figured if I was going to clean my pussy-juice off his meat then he was just going to have to put up with it. The second his cock started to stiffen I sucked it inside and let it worm slowly out.
The heat and acrid smell of his boyish crotch assailed my nostrils and helped make my cunt-juice flow. I slid a finger between the cheeks of his ass and pushed against his asshole. His balls lay heavily in the palm of my hand as I slid the digit into his tight, dark hole.
He squirmed and moaned as I showed him what it was like to have something inside him. The heavy cord between his ass and balls throbbed as I slid the finger in and out. The smell of shit hit me and I was forced to plunge my finger inside him as far as I could and leave it there to keep from smelling it.
I began to develop a rhythm of up-and-down strokes along his cock as he discovered my clit and worked it over like a fish attacking a worm. We squealed, moaned and babbled as we drove each other to the brink of a new adventure. I gave in first. Anxious to see if I could increase the tiny wave of satisfaction I released his head and pulled up, letting his cock fall from my mouth.
He gave in without a struggle. He was drooling and ready. I climbed on top of him and guided his cock home. Imitating the way I'd seen my sister-in-law do it, I rolled my ass in little circles as I sank down on him.
John gasped and purred as I reached the bottom. Our pubic hair tangled and I started back up. Trying the same thing I had the time before, I concentrated on one thing – my orgasm. My cunt warmed and boiled. My juices flowed. My cunt tightened and expanded around his shaft without my trying. Everything was going beautifully. My nipples stiffened as he held, weighed and played with my tits. My belly tightened and my skin tingled.
I rose and rose, just like I should. I planed out. I hovered on the brink, like a diver getting ready to do a one-and-a-half off the high board. Then, just as he exploded, I lost it. I fell back into the despair of nothingness.
We lay there for a long time. I felt really let down, but at least I had something from the time before and that was enough to keep me working at it. Things weren't as bleak as they had been.