0 comments/ 117347 views/ 2 favorites Cream Of The Crop Ch. 1 By: Manjaro_Eve Copyright 2000 Manjaro * * * "Thank God for air conditioning," she remarked aloud, though she occupied the rental car by herself. Had anyone been within earshot of her comment they surely would have agreed! As she sped along Iowa 180, the temperature inside Carrie's vehicle was bearable only because the cooling equipment managed to keep the confined space of the car interior about thirty-five degrees lower than the hellish temperature outside. Iowa corn country is often subject to hot weather during the high summer season, but even by Iowa standards the last several weeks had been exceptionally severe. Carrie cast a quick glance at the dashboard clock. Though it showed seven minutes shy of ten a.m., Carrie knew it was already about 110° outside. The temperature had barely dropped below the hundred degree mark overnight. The decision to drive to her meeting with her next client, rather than to fly, was at this point, still a good one. The time factor was almost a wash when the drive to and from airports, the wait for a flight, and the rental of another car, were factored in. Considering that she also saved almost three hundred dollars by not flying, Carrie figured she'd made the right move. Though her fledgling business was off to a healthy start, cash was still tight, so she had to manage her funds carefully. Besides, Carrie enjoyed driving on the open highway. As her thoughts touched on open roads, she reflected on the demands made upon her by the hard work it took to make her new business venture a success. Installing financial software tailored to the requirements of farming co-ops, and training personnel in its use, had turned out to be pretty lucrative. The price of her success was constant travel, which meant a lack of time to devote to her personal development. She was sacrificing potential personal relationships, a usually physically active lifestyle, and her sex-life. Sex-life? That was a joke! She hadn't had a sex-life since her ill-fated affair with Dan last October, unless you counted the occasional masturbatory fantasies she engaged in. Carrie shifted her gaze momentarily from the heat waves rising off the pavement in front of her to glance at her reflection in the mirror. "All the travel hasn't taken too great a toll yet on my looks," she thought. "Hair still looks pretty good ( Yeah, thank God for perms!) I'm retaining my tan too, thanks to a few hours a week at hotel pools. I'm dressed in style and taste, and despite regularly having to eat on the road, I've gained only a couple of pounds." Carrie's self-assessment ended with her grading herself B-, but she'd admit, if pressed, that she was probably her own harshest critic. "All in all," she mused, "if I wasn't so uptight and tense, I wouldn't look half-bad for a busy, successful , business woman." The thought cheered her. "Oh hell, what now?" The car, which had been cruising along smoothly at seventy-five miles an hour, had just quit running! As Carrie fought to keep the car under control without benefit of power steering, she was thankful for straight road and a wide shoulder. "I can't believe this! A brand, new Toyota and the damn thing just dies in the middle of the highway! So much for Japanese automobile superiority," she exclaimed as she pulled the car to the side of the road. Repeated attempts to start the car were unsuccessful despite adjusting the transmission lever and shutting off the other power-draining accessories. She was fuming! Getting a replacement rental car out here in the boonies was going to take precious time, likely causing her to be late for her appointment. Not so good for business, that! Also, who would have expected a brand new car to break down so suddenly? "Noo, it couldn't have happened in town. It had to wait until I'm out in corn country," Carrie muttered. Oh, oh! The realization hit Carrie that she'd only been stopped for a few minutes, and the car was already turning into an oven. She opened the door. Her previous effort to open the power windows yielded zilch, which convinced her that the problem with the car was electrical. The still, hot air struck Carrie as if from a blast furnace. "Oh great, on top of everything else I'm going to become a human cinder," she thought, hoping fervently that someone would come along in a very short time. The sun was high in the sky. There was virtually no shade in sight. Carrie looked around to see fields of brown, dry cornstalks, broken only by the shimmering black ribbon of asphalt. Carefully, to avoid burning herself on the sizzling sheet metal, she climbed to the roof of the car to increase her field of vision. Unfortunately, the only difference turned out to be that the heat seemed to somehow, unbelievably, increase. It was probably from the reflection of the sun off the glass and metal surfaces. She jumped down with the phrase "scalded puppy" popping into her mind. An hour of waiting by the roadside without a single vehicle passing brought Carrie to the realization that she was in a serious predicament. She was perspiring heavily. Without benefit of shade she was exposed to the full force of the suns intensity. Carrie was beyond merely being bedraggled and uncomfortable, she was beginning to run the risk of dehydration. In an effort to find some relief in the sparse shade cast by the withered cornstalks, Carrie walked a ways into the cornfield, meanwhile cursing herself for having had caffeinated tea with her breakfast that morning. It didn't take her long to realize that the cornfield offered no relief. There was nothing to rest against, and the sun was so high in the sky that there was no shade to retreat to. Hadn't she read something about equipment sheds, or maybe water pumps, in crop fields? Knowing that she might just be indulging in wishful thinking, she, nevertheless, proceeded a bit further into the field before deciding to give it up as a bad idea. Just before Carrie turned around to head back to her car, she heard the bull snort behind her! She whirled about in stunned surprise, searching for the massive creature she was sure was about to gore and trample her. It took a moment for it to register that the snort was not only continuous, but getting louder by the second. It finally sunk in that the sound didn't come from a bull at all. What Carrie was hearing was the approach of a big rig blasting down the highway. Carrie was only about thirty feet from the edge of the field. As soon as recognition of what she was hearing dawned on her, she began scrambling toward the highway. Though the cornstalks were ineffective as shade producers, they functioned quite well indeed as sound baffles. So well, in fact, that the truck had been only a couple of hundred yards away when Carrie had mistaken it for a bull. She was left with little time to react. There was enough time for a healthy, able-bodied woman to reach the edge of the cornfield before the cab of the tractor passed, and for her to try to attract the driver's attention. There was easily enough time, but none to spare. Carrie moved quickly. She might have made it. Probably would have, even. Of course, the driver might not have been looking, or he or she might have ignored Carrie’s gestures. The driver's might-have-been reactions became a non-issue because Carrie wasn't wearing Nikes, or Reeboks, or L.L.Bean hiking boots, or any other shoe sensible for traipsing around in cornfields. Carrie was wearing a lovely pair of Précis , green with a moderate heel, and a perfect complement to her matching green and red Limited skirt and blouse combination. The moderate heel of one of Carrie's lovely, green shoes found a depression among the numerous dirt clods, which influenced her progress dramatically. Specifically, she lurched to her left, and went down on one knee. Carrie’s adrenaline was pumping, however, so she was up and moving in less than two full seconds. Carrie emerged from the corn rows just in time to watch a long, shiny aluminum trailer with the words Navajo Trucking Company, next to an Indian-head logo, flash by. STUPID! STUPID! STUPID! was what flashed through Carries mind as she began to mentally berate herself for leaving the roadside. Her self-loathing increased when she remembered she hadn't even tried to turn on the emergency flashers . Minutes later, after she'd tried the flashers, and found them to be as useless as the rest of the electrical system, she felt a little less stupid. Her minor relief was fleeting. An hour and a half had gone by with only one vehicle passing. Her throat was parched, and her tongue felt like a dusty blanket. Carrie reminded herself that panic was her worst enemy. She had to retain her self-control! After another hour, Carrie was reflecting on how truly fragile life is. How ironic it would be to die of heatstroke at the edge of a U.S. highway. The sun had moved enough in the sky so as to make a tiny bit of shade on the passenger side of the car. Carrie had removed her luggage from the trunk, and was sitting on it while leaning on the right door. She knew vaguely that she looked a mess, but at that point could not have cared less. What she did care about was relief from the incredible thirst that seemed to be spreading from her mouth and throat to affect her entire body. Carrie lost track of time. She was actually in a swoon when she became aware that a vehicle had pulled onto the shoulder behind her car. She staggered to her feet, shading her eyes against the sun's harsh glare. She could barely make out a well-worn pickup truck with the driver-side door open, and a man in the process of climbing out. "Oh please, can you help me?" Carrie cried. Truthfully, Carrie had only tried to cry those words the first time. What came out was a cross between a gasp and a hoarse squeak. The second try she managed to croak out the words somewhat intelligibly. At the sound of her voice the man shifted his attention from her car to her. "What's the problem here, ma'am?" he asked, looking around to assess the situation. "My car broke down several hours ago, and nobody has been by to help me. I'm so thirsty. Do you have something to drink?" "Lady," the man said, squinting at her in the sun, "you don't look so good. Come over to the truck. I happen to have a cooler with some drinks in it." He came around the car to help her. It turned out that she needed it. Carrie could barely walk, even with his arm around her waist for support. The man was returning from his weekly grocery shopping trip, he explained, so he had a pretty good selection of drinks to choose from, an indication to Carrie that maybe her luck was improving. Fifteen minutes later, after two bottles of what, in Carrie's opinion, was the most heavenly fruit juice she'd ever tasted, she was vastly improved. The good Samaritan had kindly but firmly controlled her intake so she wouldn't make herself sick. "How come your flashers weren't on?" he asked. "I think the entire electrical system went out. Thanks for stopping to help me. I was beginning to think no one was ever going to come by." "The few people who live around here generally don't leave their farms much during the day this time of year, and a lot of traffic has been diverted because of the spur that was put in over near Hollis a couple years back." "Is there a phone around here that you could bring me to?" Carrie asked. "I'd be glad to pay you for your trouble." "The nearest town is about forty miles. I'm on my way home, but you're welcome to come along and use my phone." What else was there to do? "Thank you. Yes, I guess would," Carrie replied. As Carrie got into the pickup, the man retrieved her luggage and put it into the bed of the truck. Then he got in on the driver's side and began the drive to his place. A couple of miles down the highway the man turned left onto a paved road that turned to dirt after several hundred yards. Though the road was bumpy, Carrie was so exhausted from her bout with the heat that it wasn't long before she began to doze, slumped over in her seat, leaning against the door. Before losing consciousness, she managed to give her rescuer a brief evaluation through drooping eyelids. What she saw was not unpleasant to look at. He was middle-aged, maybe mid-forties, had salt and pepper, dark, curly hair, with the rough look that men who work outdoors often have. His body appeared fit in careworn, denim jeans and chambray shirt, open just far enough to reveal a chest that was tanned and endowed with gray and black, curly hair of its own. His features were rugged and masculine, but hardly of the movie star variety. They were kind of what you might expect in mid-America, she thought. That was the last of Carrie's waking thoughts until the pickup pulled to a stop in front of a huge, old, but obviously well-maintained farmhouse. As they came to a halt on a circular crushed stone driveway next to the house, Carrie came awake with a start! "How long was I out?" she asked, embarrassed. "I hope I wasn't snoring!" The man laughed, showing white teeth indicative of a non-user of tobacco. Why she thought of that all of a sudden, Carrie hadn't a clue. "You must be pretty tired. An experience like you've had is very wearing on a person." As Carrie started to open her door, a large, black dog came bounding toward her side of the truck, followed by a strikingly attractive, young man no older than eighteen. She hesitated. "Don't worry miss, Lasher won't bother you! He's just curious," the young man told her, seeking to ease her anxiety. "This is my son, miss. His name is Buddy, and mine is Ben," the man told her as he removed her luggage from the bed of the truck. Carrie had gotten out, and was tentatively patting Lasher on his huge head. "It's nice to meet you Buddy. Your father was kind enough to help me after my car broke down out on the highway. My name is Carrie." She looked from one to the other to include them both in her introduction. "Miss Carrie's here..." "Please, just call me Carrie," she smiled at them. Ben smiled back. "Carrie is here to use our phone to call for assistance, son." "Pa, our phone isn't working right now. The phone company called right after you left this morning, and said they'd be working on the lines today, and we wouldn't have service until tomorrow afternoon." Carrie immediately began wondering what options she had. As if sensing her thoughts, Ben set Carries luggage on the porch and said, "You've had quite an ordeal today. Why don't you spend the night in one of our spare rooms? Tomorrow, as soon as service is restored, you can call whomever you have to." Carrie felt as if events had overtaken her. She was tired, hungry, still more than a little thirsty, and not up to struggling anymore this day. Tomorrow she could contact her client, the rental car company, and her office. It's not as if people weren't affected by unplanned incidents every day. She'd just have to make the best of it. "Ben, your offer is most kind. I guess I'll have to take you up on it. I really appreciate your help." Buddy now piped up with "Grandpa's fixin' supper right now, Pa. Should I tell him to make extra for Carrie?" Ben told him that he should take Carrie and her luggage to the rear corner bedroom, and make sure she had what she needed to freshen herself. "I'll let Grandpa know what he needs to get done, son." Buddy led Carrie onto the wide front porch, and into the hallway of the spacious, clean and tidy, old house which was surprisingly, and blessedly, cool. At the end of the hall he turned to the right into a bedroom that was neat, if somewhat plain. He set her bags down next to a dresser that had to be a relic from the twenties, yet retained a rich, deep, natural wood sheen. "You can use the closet or the drawers, whichever. There's hangers in the closet. Oh yeah, the bathroom's two doors down on the right. The door just this side is the towels and stuff." As Buddy stepped out of the room, Ben came through the door a foot or so. "Dinner's in about a half hour. You've got time to freshen up." Carrie felt grimy and uncomfortable. "Thanks, I guess I'll take a shower now in that case." Ten minutes of stinging, hot water pelting her skin, and a thorough scrubbing of her head with shampoo, made Carrie feel almost human again. She dressed in clean underwear, shorts, and tanktop, deciding against shoes. After all, this was a farm! Then she made her way about the house until she found the kitchen. A kettle was on an old-fashioned gas range. From it emanated a savory aroma that made Carrie realize how hungry she was. Moving closer she noticed another pot on the stove with ears of corn in hot water. Looking further she saw the table was set with a bowl of fresh greens in the center. A faint scratching noise made her look to its source. Lasher sat in the living room entry way to the kitchen, looking at her in a friendly, curious way. When he saw Carrie look at him, he rose, trotted over to her, and tried to sniff at her crotch. She was pushing at his face when Ben and Buddy entered the kitchen accompanied by an elderly man Carrie assumed was the grandfather. "It smelled so good I just had to see what was cooking," Carrie flushed as she continued to push a persistent Lasher away. "Guess you're not the only one who thinks so," the elderly man remarked, nodding toward Lasher. "Buddy, take the dog outside," Ben directed. "Carrie, this is Seth, Buddy's grandpa." Carrie nodded to Seth with a little smile, meanwhile recognizing the resemblance between the older man and the other two. He retained a lithe, wiry body, sun-darkened tight skin, and clear eyes. It seemed to Carrie that the hard work demanded of farm life, and the healthy food, and fresh air, combined to help these men flourish physically. They shared the meal with little conversation. Buddy ate with a voraciousness typical of teenage boys, while the older men shoveled in a couple of portions apiece. As for Carrie, she was starving. She found the simple chicken and vegetable stew delicious. She even found room for two ears of corn. Her appreciation of their fare was not lost on her hosts. When the meal was over Carrie assisted in the cleanup, then excused herself for the night, citing fatigue. Once she reached her room however, she found that the thought of a hot soak in the bathtub was irresistible, so she got her things together, and brought them to the bathroom. Then she went looking for the men folk to let them know her plan. A noise outside drew her attention to the nearest window. Carrie could see them all outside, the older men conversing, Buddy playing with Lasher. The hot, soapy water felt marvelous. The sun's harsh punishment earlier in the day was becoming a distant, unpleasant memory. Carrie felt relaxed. She felt languorous. It was as if all of the tension of the day had drained from her body. She felt good. She felt good enough to actually turn her thoughts to a little ember of desire flickering ever so slightly in her belly. "What the hell," Carrie thought. "I've had a tough day, and I haven't had a lover for so long." It was perfectly understandable that she should indulge herself with a little erotic stimulation. The water slowly drained while Carrie's hands rubbed her water-slickened breasts. She gently pinched her nipples until they were swollen. She immersed herself in her fantasy of "motorcycle slut," letting her fingers trail slowly down her body to where the wetness had little to do with bathwater. Carrie wasn't fully aware of how her body was writhing in abandonment, legs spread, feet resting on the sides of the tub. In Carrie's mind she was astride a Harley-Davidson chopper, engine idling its deep, throaty roar as it rested unmoving and upright next to a crackling campfire. She was naked, with her wrists tied to the ends of the handlebars. There were bikers around the fire, most with women attending to their base sexual desires, but even those in the act had their eyes on her. There was a man on the motorcycle behind her, and even though she couldn't see him from her position on the big bike, her mind's eye saw him as the tough, raunchy, hyper-masculine leader of the gang. Cream Of The Crop Ch. 1 Her hips had been pulled toward the back of the seat so that her breasts rubbed the shiny black gas tank. Strong, hairy arms encircled her in a tight embrace, and occasionally the gang leader would grasp her breasts roughly and pinch her nipples. She was humiliated and helpless before his power. Carrie felt the leather of his jacket against the globes of her ass. She felt the head of his big, hard cock brush against the crack of her ass as it moved closer to her wet, waiting pussy. Though she was ashamed to do it, she shifted her body to make his entry easier and quicker. The gang leader put the head of his cock into her. Carrie pushed back to engulf more, but her movements were restricted by the bonds on her wrists. Those around the fire were watching her with lust and scorn. The leader spoke, "Beg for it you little bitch! If you want it you've got to beg. Tell us what you are and what you want, baby!" The vibration from the big engine permeated her body like a big, pulsing cock. Now she wanted the real thing, and it didn't matter who was watching. She threw the words over her shoulder to the leader, "I'm a horny bitch! I'll be your slut! I'll be anything you want, do anything you want, just please put that big, hard, juicy, cock into my wet, starving, hot pussy!" The leader slowly slid his big, hard cock the rest of the way into her. He stroked it in and out of her several times in that exquisitely slow manner that he seemed to know would bring her the greatest ecstasy. Then he increased his speed until she was rocking back and forth on the bike, breasts slapping the gas tank, onlookers leering at her total subjugation. Carrie could feel her orgasm building. She started chanting, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! I'll suck your cock! I'll suck all your cocks! I'll fuck you all! Anything, anything, just keep your big dick in me!" The biker stopped fucking her suddenly. The bike, the campfire, the gang, all disappeared as the bathroom door opened, and Ben strolled in and stood looking down at her. Carrie quickly jumped up and covered herself with a towel, fully aware that he had seen her spread-eagled, masturbating herself. She was totally embarrassed, but attempted to mask it with anger. "How dare you invade my privacy?! I'll call the police! I'll sue you for every penny you're worth! I'll take this stupid farm away from you!" Ben was completely unperturbed. "You'll shut up and calm down!" He picked up her robe and held it out to her, "Then you'll put this on, come to my room, and listen to what I have to say." When she took the robe, he turned on his heel and walked out. Cream Of The Crop Ch. 2 Copyright 2000 Manjaro ********** Carrie threw her robe on, ran her brush through her hair, and raced out to catch Ben. Finding him was no great feat. Only one door was open off the hallway, and light streamed out through it. When Carrie reached the doorway, she hesitated briefly. Ben was sitting at a desk, facing away from her. She noted that it was a huge room, probably a combination of what used to be two. It was furnished as a bedroom/office, had hardwood floors, and reflected the rest of the house in its simple neat quality. "You're in big trouble, mister!" she snarled, entering his room. "I believe I told you to stop your babbling and listen to me. We offered you our hospitality and you accepted. I don't know where you come from, but out here we're obligated when someone helps us out. As for your threats, why don't you pick up the phone and call the police right now? The answer, of course, is that you can't. You could stay the night as planned, but then what are you going to say to the sheriff tomorrow? That I did all these terrible things to you, then you decided to spend the night, and call him the next day? I don't think so! And what did I do to you? You must not have tripped the latch when you shut the door. If the door isn't latched it'll open when someone opens and closes one of the outside doors (As he spoke to her in his calm reasonable voice, Carrie could sense the anger behind it. The hint was in his eyes.) As I recall, when you left us it was to go to bed. When I came down the hall and found the door partly open, it was only natural that I look inside. There you were in the middle of your little game. So what if I watched, and listened. Maybe it was part of your game that one of us would? Even if it wasn't, so what? This is our house. If you don't close the door before playing, that's your problem. We don't see women out here often, and I happen to enjoy watching an attractive woman let herself go." "That doesn't give you the right to spy on me!" Carrie protested. "Well, I guess I took the right! Now, you've got a choice to make young lady." "What choice is that?" Ben smiled at her with a mixture of cold anger, and something else that Carrie didn't recognize, or didn't want to recognize. "You can start returning our hospitality, or you can pack up and leave, with no further assistance from us, right now! Let me make it clear that by returning our hospitality, I mean that you'll do exactly as I say." "You're crazy! I'm outta here!" Carrie screamed at him. "That's what I thought you'd say, and that's fine, though it certainly indicates poor manners on your part. Before you finalize your decision however, perhaps you ought to look out that window over there." He pointed towards a large picture window facing the front of the house. "Look carefully!" Carrie was angry, but not so angry that she missed the warning tone in Ben's voice. She crossed the room to peer through the large piece of plate glass into the night. For a moment his point escaped her. She continued to look, but all she could see, other than stars, were those objects illuminated by the lights from the house, or from the sodium lamps near the chicken yard and the barn. Finally it hit her. She couldn't see anything else! It was pitch black beyond the lights of the farm. There were no man-made lights to be seen anywhere! "I don't suppose you'd consider giving me a ride?" Carrie asked feebly. "You heard me!" "Just what is it I'm supposed to do to 'return your hospitality?'" Carrie asked. "Come over here, Carrie," Ben said in a low, clear voice. He had swiveled his chair around so that he could watch her as she stared out the window. She approached and stood before him. "Carrie, make your decision based on whether you prefer your chances out there or here. If you decide to stay, then refuse to cooperate, you'll have to leave immediately. Is that clear?" Carrie didn't see what other choice she had. "OK, I'll take my chances here. You did stop and help me." "You should have thought of that before you started threatening me," Ben told her, that hard look back in his eyes. "Now spread your feet a little further apart." Carrie did as she was told. Ben leaned over in his chair and grasped her ankle in a gentle but firm grip for a moment, then began to run his fingers lightly, but still firmly, up and down Carrie's calves. First one, then the other, kneading the muscles and caressing her. Sometimes his fingers lingered behind her knees. Despite her initial nervousness, Carrie found Ben's touch relaxing her. As the minutes went by, he was gradually moving his massaging fingers higher, exploring her thighs, front, back, inside and outside. Ben had easy access to her lower body as the robe only fell to mid-thigh, and it was all Carrie wore. Ben lingered long enough on her thighs and touched her so skillfully that when his hands finally reached the soft inner flesh close to where her legs joined, she parted them of her own volition. Ben maintained his leisurely exploration, allowing his fingers to barely brush at the hairy delta between her legs, before traveling around and about her body to caress her buttocks, sometimes cupping them with his work-roughened hands, at other times spreading her cheeks to run a fingertip the full length of the crevice between them, and to scratch lightly at her most secret, sensitive hole. By now her robe had fallen open completely and hung on her shoulders only. Carrie had responded to Ben's attentions in other ways as well. She breathed in short, little gasps as he progressed in his intimacies. She began to move her body in anticipation of where he might touch her next, and she had again become wet with wanting. When Ben's fingers finally touched that wetness, Carrie groaned and looked down at Ben through desire-slitted eyes. She locked her eyes briefly with his, seeing him grinning knowingly as he continued to manipulate her, then she broke her gaze in momentary shame before again giving in to the sensations that were beginning to crowd out concern for anything else. When Ben zeroed in on her clit, Carrie was glad beyond words that she'd chosen to stay. He touched her in brief little flurries, each a bit different from the previous time. Sometimes he rubbed her lightly up and down. Sometimes in a circular motion one way, then another. Sometimes he scratched her there ever so slightly with his fingernail. No matter what he did it brought Carrie immense enjoyment. She was now gyrating in wanton abandonment and making little mewling sounds of pleasure as he used her at will. "Take your robe off!" Ben ordered. She shrugged it from her shoulders, trying to do so without breaking contact with his finger poised immediately in front of her. He was not even moving it now, just holding it available to her questing, hungry pussy. As Carrie shook her head from side to side, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over Ben's dresser. She saw herself thrusting nakedly and wantonly for the pleasure of a man’s finger, a man she hadn't even met twelve hours earlier. She liked what she saw. Carrie was approaching orgasm, moaning incoherently. "Now, tell me what you want!" Ben commanded. Carrie was now so totally immersed in her desire, there was no hesitation on her part. "I want you to touch me, to play with my pussy anyway you want! Touch my pussy, my ass, my breasts! Do whatever you want, only please don't stop!" But that's exactly what Ben did do, at least for a moment, after he told her to stand still. She stopped obediently just as she was entering the throes of orgasm, though it was so hard to do. She stood before him shuddering in desire as he rose very close to her and slowly removed his clothes. Being in her agitated state did not prevent Carrie from noticing the corded, working-man's muscles that widened and thickened Ben's torso and limbs, nor the dark, curly hair that adorned his body in just the right quantity for her taste. As he doffed his shorts she saw that though only semi-erect , Ben was a well-endowed, male specimen. She licked her lips involuntarily. Ben again sat down and resumed his expert fondling of her body. Now she not only was stimulated by the tactile sensations he was inducing, she found the sight of his body responding to his own desire extremely erotic. It had been far too long since Carrie had seen such a phenomenon, and it increased her own desire an order of magnitude. Ben was again bringing her up the ladder of desire when, without pausing, he asked her if she liked the feel and taste of a thick, hard cock in her mouth. "I'm sure I'd love yours," Carrie panted. Then looking down at Ben's now hard penis, "Can I kneel in front of you and lick and suck your cock, please?" Ben smiled as he answered, "You may, but you'd better do a good job. Don't forget to lick my balls." Carrie sank to her knees and took Ben's hardness in her hand. She lowered her head so that her lips barely brushed the head of his engorged penis. She inhaled his musky, masculine odor, and it amplified the sexual arousal that already possessed her as she bent further to run her tongue the length of his organ. She began to fellate him, thinking to herself how much she enjoyed his taste, the feel of his powerful cock in her mouth, the texture of it on her sensitive lips. Without removing it from her mouth, she looked to his face to see the effect she was having on him. His expression was one of casual nonchalance, tinged with arrogant lust. He leaned back to watch her perform, reaching down to brush back her hair that had fallen over her face, that he might better see her between his legs. It had been so long since she had served a lover this way that she had almost forgotten the sense of appropriateness she had always experienced when she did so. When Ben lifted his buttocks off the chair, Carrie moved down to lick his balls, pausing occasionally to take one, then the other into her mouth and rolling them on her tongue. Then she moved down further to lick and kiss the fleshy area behind his balls. His taste and aroma was so masculine that she couldn't help but feel more feminine. The feeling of being totally in his command excited her tremendously. She realized that being dominated had always been a crucial part of her most fervent desires but always kept hidden, usually even from herself. They continued in this manner for some time with Carrie shifting her attention to whatever he signaled her he desired. Finally, he commanded her to move to his bed and to kneel on her hands and knees. She did so unhesitatingly. When she had assumed the position, Ben knelt beside her on the bed and began to again play with her cunt. Performing oral sex on him had not diminished her wetness. If anything she was wetter than when she'd started, so when his fingers sought her out, they easily slipped inside her. For a few minutes he played with her, alternately strumming her clit and thrusting his fingers in and out like a cock. Soon Carrie was rocking back onto his fingers in a frenzy. When he went to move behind her, she reached back to guide what she now thought of as "his wonderful cock" inside her. "Hold it," Ben said angrily. "Did I tell you to put it in?" "I'm sorry," Carrie hastily apologized. She now craved him. Her pussy felt hot and wet and hugely empty. She desperately wanted it filled with hot, hard, masculine, manly, cock! "Please, please, fuck me with that thick log! I want it so bad, please I'll do anything!" "Yes, I've heard that from you before. This time it's not make-believe though. This time if I give you what you want you will do things. You'll do anything with your mouth, cunt, and ass that I tell you to do, won't you?" Carrie rotated her hips as Ben continued to stroke her, and her answer fairly flew from her lips, "Yes, yes, anything, anything, just please fuck me, oh, fuck my aching, wet cunt!" Ben wasn't satisfied with those words. "Tell me like you told the man in your fantasy!" he ordered. "I'll do anything for you! I'll fuck you anytime, anywhere! I'll fuck and suck your friends! I'll be your whore, your slut, whatever! If you want, I'll do you in public, anything, just please fuck me now!" 'Oh god,' she thought. 'What was I saying?' Carries words served to increase her own lust. She realized that she loved talking that way, being "made" to talk that way. Carrie was obsessed at that moment with the thought of all she'd promised to do! Her words this time seemed to be quite satisfactory to Ben. "Put it in!" he said. Carrie quivered in lust as she reached back, grasped Ben's penis, and placed the head against her opening. Ben slowly inched his rock-hard cock into Carrie's wet pussy. Carrie felt as if a long lasting ache was finally being relieved. She pushed herself back to meet Ben's long, smooth strokes. Ben had fucked her for only a minute or so when Carrie felt the first stinging slap to her ass cheeks. He had only enough time to smack her ass a half dozen times before she literally exploded in her first orgasm. She had been so close, but the feel and thought of being spanked had shot her over the edge. When Carrie had time to reflect on it later, it was apparent to her that she had a sexually masochistic tendency which Ben had stumbled upon when he'd listened in on her fantasy and subsequently took advantage of. Meanwhile, Carrie was not so much thinking as she was reacting to the intense stimuli she was receiving. Unlike the other men that Carrie had experienced, Ben did not use her orgasm as a signal for himself to climax. Carrie was moaning, "I love it, I love it," over and over, thrashing her head from side to side as she convulsed in waves of sensual pleasure. She began to recover from her initial rush when Ben withdrew his still iron rod from her and moved her aside so he could lie on his back. "Now lick me off. Then after you've cleaned it nicely, sit on it. I'll tell you what to do then!" Carrie had moved to one side of the bed to make room. Once Ben had reclined, she, her desire still at fever pitch, laid between his legs and licked him clean. She found she liked the taste of herself on him. She loved the way his cock stood up so hard and straight, so close to her face, and how it looked gigantic right there. "Enough, now mount me!" Ben ordered. Carrie jumped up, straddled Ben's hips, and inserted him into her hot, wet hole. The feel of it sliding in was pure ecstasy. He reached up to grasp her arms to allow her the leverage she needed to thrust herself down on him harder and faster. "Do you want more, little one?" he asked. "Yes, lots more!" she groaned. "Turn around. I want to watch my cock slide in and out of you!" He let loose of her arms, and Carrie spun around and resumed her pumping up and down on his rigid organ. Ben began to slap her ass again as he commanded her to slow her strokes way down. The treatment he was giving her ass, combined with the agonizingly slow entrance and exit of his cock, jacked up Carrie's level of lust another notch. Carrie's sexual absorption was so total that she failed to realize that Seth had entered the room and was viewing the activity on the bed, until almost a minute had passed. She was still concentrating on the sensation of riding Ben's manhood, and her pleasure at accepting his blows to her buttocks as a demonstration of his dominance, when she opened her eyes for a moment to see the older man standing a few feet away. "Well, it looks as if you might be getting the business lady properly trained," Seth smirked. Carrie stopped all movement at the sight of the grandfather standing there watching her degrading behavior. Her pause was not long. "I didn't tell you to stop. Move that ass until I tell you otherwise!" As Ben spoke he gave her an extra hard smack. Carrie resumed riding his dick with humiliation, and the increased pleasure of being even more the object of this man’s desire. "It turns out she needs the training. You need to get fucked a lot more often don't you?" "Yes, I need it all, Ben," Carrie found herself answering, and her cunt twitched with another pang of lust. "I think little Carrie needs to increase her appreciation of men. Carrie, if you ask Seth nicely maybe he'll let you suck him." Carrie looked at Seth, seeing a body that belied his years. Many a man his age would be fat from a sedentary life. In the end it didn't matter in her decision, only her enjoyment, because the decision had been made for her by Ben. "Seth, would you please let me put my lips around your big dick, and lick it and suck it?" Seth had actually been watching the action in the bedroom since it began. He had been in the yard when Carrie had looked out the window. Drawn by curiosity, he had approached and peeked in to see Ben's progress in making the attractive traveler his plaything. Finally, he had determined to have some of her himself. Now, watching Carrie sliding her pussy up and down his son’s rod while she licked her lips, asking politely to blow him, well, he wasn't crazy! He could tell she meant it too. The look in her eyes was undisguised wantonness. "I don't want no half-assed little kisses where your lips barely touch my dick. I'd just as soon jack off!" he replied. Carrie again surprised herself. The thought that he might actually refuse unnerved her. She found that she wanted this man's cock in her mouth . Not for Ben, not because she feared being turned out, but because she desired him. "Oh no, I want it deep in my throat. I want to lick and suck it thoroughly." Seth approached and positioned himself so that when he unzipped his pants his half-hard cock popped out within an inch or so of Carrie's face. She looked up to Seth's eyes for a moment before leaning forward to take him into her mouth. She was careful to continue her fucking of Ben's cock. Seth watched Carrie carefully. The sight of her pretty face at his crotch, of her full lips engulfing the head of his manliness, excited him mightily. It took only a moment for him to harden. When he was stiff, and Carrie was taking his rod in and out smoothly, lips wrapped tightly around his fleshy pole, Seth looked over to see Ben smiling broadly at him. Ben had paid close attention to Carrie's reaction to his command that she service his father. Her acceptance of her role was not a surprise to him, but the totality and ease of her acceptance was. Though it seemed to Carrie that Ben was almost blasé about her servitude to him, he was anything but. The sight of her pussy slowly swallowing his cock and sliding back up was erotic enough. When he looked across her back to see her head bobbing obediently at Seth’s crotch it was almost more than he could bear. The physical sensations were incredible, yet they were only a part of the total sexual experience. Ben's mastery of the traveling beauty gave him at least as much pleasure. When he caught Seth's eye he couldn't help but grin smugly. Carrie was finding the going difficult! Her difficulty stemmed from the flood of sensory and emotional input. There were so many wonderful feelings she could not concentrate on all of them at once. One second she'd tune in to the sensations emanating from her cunt being so deliciously fucked, then the taste and feel of Seth's big cock in her mouth were cause for her to moan in pleasure. Then a sharp slap to her ass would bring a gasp of masochistic thrill from within her. The words of exhortation that pierced her haze of comprehension also spurred the raging flames of lust within. Carrie heard bits and pieces such as "Next time you suck my dick I want lipstick on your lips. You're gonna pretty yourself up real good, right?" and "We need to keep Carrie full of cock. She loves fuckin' and suckin' big, hard ones, don'cha woman?" and "Come on, baby, suck his cock real good. I want to feel your cunt throb while his sperm runs down your throat!" Cream Of The Crop Ch. 2 As Ben uttered this last encouragement, Carrie could feel him begin to insert one of his fingers into her ass. It was too much to bear without release. She felt as if she were a flesh and blood volcano! She felt a convulsive pressure deep inside that seemed to radiate outward in wave after wave until Carrie thought she would explode! Whether they received signals consciously or not, neither Ben nor Seth could have told, had they even thought about it, but when Carrie began to combust orgasmically, so did they. Seth had continued to soak up as much of the experience as he could after he and Ben exchanged their look. His eyes noted how Carrie's cheeks ballooned in and out as she moved up and down on him. He took in the way her hair fell to the side of her face as her head thrust back and forth. He saw the rise and fall of her shapely ass over Ben's body, and how she kept her eyes closed in focused concentration on her own sensations, except for the two or three times she looked up to his face with pleasure-glazed eyes, never taking her lips from his root. The smell of sex permeated the room from a mixture of sweat, soap, and Carrie's copious juices. This too Seth absorbed! His ears did not miss out on the feast! His words to Carrie, Ben's lewd comments, Carrie's moans, and the wet sounds of Carrie's body being used for the satisfaction of all their appetites, combined with the slap of flesh against flesh to incite him further. Finally, Carries fervent and skillful oral devotion completed the panorama of pleasure laid out for his enjoyment! Be it coincidence or some unspoken communication, the instant that Carrie's tidal wave of passion began deep in her soul, Seth's own explosion was triggered. From the reservoir of his manhood the evidence of climax burst forth in an uncontrollable flood with force surprising for a man of his years! Carrie felt a throbbing in Seth's hard cock that she instinctively knew was a precursor to his ejaculation. In the past, she had considered the idea of swallowing a man’s cum distasteful and perverted. Now she was anxious for him to spew it into her throat! She wanted to taste it! She wanted to swallow for him. She remembered for a moment the whispered conversations with her girlfriends in junior high. Only a slut would allow a boy to put his penis in her mouth, and only the nastiest of "them" would accept a boy’s jism there. Well, she was being a slut, and as long as she was she was determined to be the most wanton slut she could be! When Seth's climax erupted, Carrie could only contain the deluge in her mouth, without releasing his cock, by swallowing as rapidly as she could in big gulps for several seconds. Her efforts did not distract her so much that she failed to note the salt-musk taste of his cum. When passion began to wrack Carrie's body and in turn detonated Seth's explosion, Ben found himself caught up in the cataclysm! It was so obvious that the other two were peaking that Ben's first inclination was to let the release his body craved overtake him. By iron-willed determination, he forced himself to retreat from the scene mentally and become, for a few moments, only an observer. What fueled Ben's determination was an even stronger desire to drag out his pleasure longer still. He wanted to extend his physical pleasure, but he especially wanted to strengthen and demonstrate his control over the lovely Carrie. So Ben allowed himself to throb twice within the hot, wet tunnel of Carrie's pussy, then he gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and mightily concentrated on subduing his lust. Seth emptied himself into Carrie's hungry mouth, with a drawn out groan and stepped back, his cock slipping from between her lips, slick and wet from her saliva and his own juices. He glanced at her and caught her look of satiation mixed with something that might have been regret that their union was broken. Seth grunted, "She needs a lot more practice to be a first-rate cocksucker, Ben." Ben looked again to see that his hard cock was still embedded deep inside Carrie as she sprawled forward on her elbows between his legs, trying to catch her breath. "She'll get a lot of practice before she leaves, don’t worry!" Seth grunted again as he zipped his pants and turned to leave the room, "I'll want her again in the mornin' after I take care of the cows, Ben!" Then he was gone, without waiting for an answer. Ben cupped Carrie's ass cheeks with his rough hands and pushed her forward so that he could withdraw himself, then moved her aside so that he could get off the bed. She laid on her side looking at him expectantly. "Lie on your back and lift your legs high and wide!" Ben ordered. Carrie laid back and raised her legs almost perpendicular to her body, then spread her feet about thirty inches apart. When Ben was satisfied that she was suitably exposed he stepped to the doorway. "Buddy, get in here, boy!" he yelled. Carrie, for the briefest moment, felt anxiety that events had spun way out of control. Then she remembered that they'd been out of control for a while, and in fact, that was an important catalyst in the chemistry that allowed her the freedom to behave in such a wanton manner. Ben returned to the side of the bed. As he gazed down at her spread-eagled form, he put his hand on one of her upraised ankles. A slight noise at the bedroom doorway prompted them both to look in that direction. Buddy stood there as if frozen in mid-stride, a wide-eyed look combining surprise, embarrassment, shyness, and more than a little youthful lust, on his face. "Well, boy, what do you think of Miss Carrie like this?" Ben asked his shocked son. "Pa, she's ummm, ah, beautiful," he managed to stammer, his eyes roving greedily over every inch of Carrie's totally exposed body. "Take your clothes off, boy! It's time you had a woman. You need to learn how to handle them the right way. Now you listen and learn." Ben moved to kneel by Carrie's head. Buddy hastily began removing his clothes, keeping his eyes glued to the tableau in front of him. It did not go unnoticed that Carrie turned her head to take Ben into her mouth even though no words had passed between them. Carrie kept her legs elevated when Ben moved next to her, but as his still hard cock neared her face she gave into the urge to have it in her mouth. She had been very careful to observe Ben's reaction as she parted her lips near his organ. She made sure by the expression on his face that he was going to approve before she closed her mouth over his cock. Ben allowed Carrie just the briefest moment of service to his cock before he withdrew it. Looking back toward Buddy, who had finished undressing , Ben nodded that the boy should take his place near Carrie's head. Buddy needed no further encouragement. He moved quickly to replace his father. Carrie watched Buddy approach her. His body was more sculpted than those of his elders. His youth showed in the smoothness of his limbs, and only the beginnings of the body hair that he would later acquire if he took after his dad. There was nothing boyish about the stiff, straight organ that protruded from the juncture of his legs however, even if there was only sparse, finer hair around its base. It already had the length of Ben's impressive penis, if not quite the meaty thickness. Carrie wondered how it would taste? She knew she'd find out soon! Ben had shifted over to kneel between Carrie’s legs, grasping her ankles at about his chest level. "Don't stab her in the eye with it, son!" he cautioned Buddy. Ben had seen him approaching Carrie with an eagerness that suggested he might be not be entirely in control of his body. "Just put it near enough so she can get at it. She'll know what to do." Carrie admitted to herself that Ben was entirely correct. Gone was any apprehension she'd had about Buddy's youth, or being embarrassed, or any other inhibitions. She knew what she was there to do. When Buddy positioned himself next to her, as Ben had a minute before, she smiled up at him as she moved to take his rod into her mouth. Ben was pleased that Carrie had adjusted so well to her role. He inched forward on his knees to slip his cock into Carrie, noting as he did that Buddy was fondling Carrie's breasts while his eyes remained riveted to her face, enraptured by the sight of an attractive, adult woman blowing him enthusiastically. Ben's observance paid him a dividend when he caught Carrie’s small moan around Buddy's cock as Ben slipped into her pussy. Carrie was enthralled by her attentions to Buddy's hard, long dick. She thought how fresh and smooth his pole was in her mouth. Not better, so much as nicely different. The thought occurred to her that maybe she had deprived herself in the past by not being more receptive to some of the men who had so obviously wanted her to suck them. Ah, but only Ben had sensed her deep need and made her do what she wanted. When Ben entered her, she shivered in pleasure. With Ben in the controlling position, she concentrated her efforts on using her lips and tongue to explore and coax Buddy's cock, and divided her senses to enjoy the pleasures at both ends. While Ben fucked his cock in and out of Carrie, he was carefully watching Buddy's reactions to her talented ministrations. It wasn't long before he sensed Buddy's excitement building to a crescendo. He momentarily considered interrupting his climax, then decided against it. Buddy desperately needed release. Furthermore, he would likely recover fast enough to continue his "lesson" shortly. Carrie sensed Buddy's pending climax even before Ben did, and found herself anxious to experience his pulsing, throbbing cock firing his juices into her while Ben's big, manly cock continued to fuck her. She increased the rhythmic pumping of her lips up and down his shaft. Seconds later the throbs of his dick started coming so fast it was if his organ was vibrating. Carrie clamped her lips tightly around his pole and immediately felt the first jets of Buddy's cum shoot deep into the back of her throat. The heat of the moment did not distract her from absorbing the sensations emanating from Ben's organ slowly and methodically pumping her. To Carrie it seemed the perfect combination, and she reveled in it. She also reveled in the look of ecstasy, with a little agony, that temporarily gripped the face of the young man emptying himself between her lips. Carrie swallowed his juices and fell back as Buddy pulled away, leaving both of them a little dazed. Ben had stopped too, though Carrie was sure he still hadn't cum yet. "Buddy, go get a glass of water for Carrie," Ben instructed. "She must be thirsty by now." As he said this, Ben withdrew his still hard dick from Carrie and lowered her legs to the bed. Before Buddy could turn to leave the room, Carrie gazed at him for a moment. He was looking back at her with a mixture of wonderment and excitement. Carrie, for an instant, heard the word 'love struck' in her mind! Then, as she lowered her gaze, the image of his semi-hard, young cock drove the thought away. Buddy turned and left. A few moments later Buddy returned with a glass of cool water. Carrie hadn't realized how thirsty she had become until she tasted the refreshing liquid. As she finished it, Ben told Buddy to take the glass from her and set it aside out of the way. Carrie began to lie back, but before she had settled, Ben ordered her to lie belly down and closer to the foot of the bed. Carrie took the position that Ben had specified. While Ben was moving to sit in front of her at the head of the bed he told her to move between his thighs and resume blowing him. "Up on your hands and knees this time, Carrie. Buddy, you get behind her close enough so that she can reach back and stick your cock in her pussy." She could see the effect that Ben's words had on the boy as she was positioning herself. His youthful vitality was evident as his cock hardened quickly at the realization he was going to enjoy her charms again. Carrie knelt as instructed, ass turned up in offering. She hungrily sucked Ben's big dick into her mouth, balancing herself on one hand while she reached back to blindly grasp the smooth cock of Buddy. He had wasted no time assuming the position described by his father and assisted Carrie’s efforts by placing his cock at her fingertips. It was easy to guide his long organ into her wet orifice, and she gasped with pleasure around the thick penis in her mouth as she did so. Buddy watched her slim hand put the head of his dick at her entrance and needed no urging once it got there. He pushed it in immediately about three-quarters deep, then began to rhythmically fuck Carrie with long, steady strokes. Without prompting, he grasped her hips to gain more favorable leverage and soon had his thumbs holding her ass cheeks apart to better see his cock piston in and out of her. Ben watched as his son took the initiative, alternating his gaze from Carrie’s lovely face bobbing in his lap to the younger male slamming his belly into her ass cheeks as he vigorously fucked her. Ben could see Carrie reacting to the stimuli she was receiving at both ends. Her moans, distorted facial expressions, and body language betrayed the wanton joy she was experiencing. His assessment was exactly on the mark. Carrie felt deliciously, decadently, the desired, the debauched. At once a lover, slave, and object of intense male attention, she felt abjectly and excitingly powerless, yet powerful at the same time. Her power came from the reactions she was able to elicit from the brutes who controlled and humiliated her to satisfy their whims. She wouldn't have believed they could, but all of those feelings were about to intensify. When Ben was satisfied that Buddy was immersed in the moment, yet still under control, he said, "Hold on for a second, boy!" Buddy did as he was told with only a little regret. By now he trusted that his pa would only stop him if there were something even better in store. His pause had a different effect on Carrie. She continued to give Ben head while seeking to continue the delightful fucking she was getting by shaking her ass more energetically. After all, Ben hadn't told her to stop! "Carrie, help Buddy! Son, take your cock out of Carrie's pussy and put it in her ass! It should be plenty wet enough to slip into her." This was a surprise to Carrie... and Buddy. Both were a little apprehensive for the same reason. Buddy was concerned that he was too large to fit into her little rosebud. After all, it looked so tight! Carrie had no illusions about whether Buddy's penis would fit into her asshole. She was not so naive that she didn't know that people had sex that way, it was just that she never had. Not even Don had protested her resistance when he had once broached the subject. Buddy's apprehension was very brief. Carrie’s wasn't noticeably longer! As Buddy withdrew from her wet pussy, Carrie reached back again to place his cock head snugly against her tight little hole. The sight of his cock poised at her rear entrance dissipated any hesitation on Buddy's part and he slowly pushed his lengthy organ into her. Though Carrie had never experienced anal sex or fantasized directly about it, it nevertheless had played a part in her fantasies. Whenever her "games" featured being under another’s control, which was really almost always, the threat of having her virgin ass violated was there. She just hadn't ever gotten that far. Carrie quickly realized that having a man’s cock embedded in her ass was a perfect and logical extension of being wantonly sexual. Her apprehension was almost immediately replaced by intensified lust. So when Buddy's dick slid into her she was prepared to accept it. One would have thought that by now she would have been prepared for the burst of feelings this new experience would engender. She wasn't! Carrie was still obediently licking and sucking Ben's thick cock as she felt her ass filled with hot meat. Aside from the not unpleasant physical sensation, she was electrified by the thought of being masterfully ass-fucked! This also seemed her destiny! She was to use her mouth, cunt, tits, ass, hands, and feet if need be, to bring satisfaction to males strong enough to recognize her needs and move on them. "I love this," she thought, as she threw herself into absorbing every mental and physical sensation she could perceive as she pleasured these males with her mouth and ass. "I wish we could go on and on forever!" A chill again made it’s way through her body. Another chill! A sharp rapping sound intruded on Carrie's consciousness. She found herself suddenly splashing water over the lip of the tub as she hurriedly sat up straight in the bathtub. "Is everything all right in there?" It was Ben’s voice outside the bathroom door. A sense of near deja vu struck Carrie for a moment. "Oh, ah, yes. I must have dozed off. I’m sorry. How long have I been in here?" "We came in about 30 minutes ago, and you were in there then." "I’m so sorry. I’ll be out in a minute." "No rush, we were just a little worried you might have hurt yourself." "No, no, I’m OK." She heard Ben walk away from the bathroom door. Carrie noticed her skin was water wrinkled. "I must have really conked out," she thought as she toweled off. Carrie threw her robe on, ran her brush through her hair, and stepped through the doorway into the hall, wondering where Ben had gone off to. Finding him was no great feat. Only one door was open off the hallway, and light streamed out through it. When Carrie reached the doorway, she hesitated briefly. Ben was sitting at a desk facing away from her. She noted that it was a huge room, probably a combination of what used to be two. It was furnished as a bedroom/office, had hardwood floors, and reflected the rest of the house in its simple, neat quality. She stepped into the room. "Ben, excuse me, but could I have a word with you, in private?" He turned in his chair to face her. "Of course, Carrie. What is it?" Carrie turned and shut the bedroom door.