5 comments/ 97232 views/ 19 favorites Lucky at Summer Ch. 01 By: 99_percent_oral "Aw Mom," he said, sounding more eight than eighteen. "Now Mikey..." "Mom, stop calling me Mikey. I told you I'm too old for a little boy's name." "Very well, Michael..." Mike's mom said smiling at her son. "Mother!" "OK Mike, I got it, but you have to give me some time to get used to calling you that." "You said I wouldn't have to go to Wyoming if I found a job here this summer. Jimmy told me Mr. Lansing told him he's going to hire me." Mike mentally kicked himself for referring to Jim as Jimmy. Both boys were struggling to grow up as quickly as possible. "I know, honey, and I wish we didn't have to do this but your Aunt Molly is struggling more than anyone suspected and summer is the most critical time for her. There will come a day when you realize this is what family is about." "But she's not even related! Not really, anyway." Mike, apparently, was in a mental kicking mood and offered one to his Uncle Hastings for dying so suddenly last fall. Then he kicked himself even harder, mentally, of course, for being a callous jerk. "Michael! Don't say such a thing. Hastings was my only brother and Molly was his wife. Like us, they never had much and now she's faced with losing everything. Please say you'll help her." Mike could no more turn down the plea in his mother's eyes than he could buy her the mansion on a hill she deserved. With servants. Topless, female servants...horny ones...pretty...with great bodies... Mike shook his head to clear it. Would such intrusive thoughts never go away he wondered? His mother brushed a tear from her eye as she watched her son retreat to his room. Lying on his bed, Mike began contemplating the pros and cons of spending the summer on a ranch in Wyoming. Or at least he wanted to but there didn't seem to be all that many pros. He really wanted that pool-cleaning job with Mr. Lansing. Jim had worked there last summer and was full of stories of classmates, college coeds, and even some hot moms sunning themselves in bikinis – or less! Throughout their senior year of high school, Jim had teased Mike unmercifully about the sights he'd seen on pool aprons around town. Mike was completely jealous of his best friend and continually badgered his buddy to put in a good word with Mr. Lansing. All winter Mike lay naked in his bed masturbating, like he was doing at the moment, thinking about seeing Jessica or Melanie or any of a dozen girls at school Jim claimed wore micro bikinis. Releasing his semen into the air above his chest, Mike groaned softly as it splashed onto his bare skin. When his heavy breathing finally calmed, he hurried to mop himself dry with a soiled tee shirt from his hamper. This was to have been his "breakout" summer. At eighteen, Mike was still a virgin. If there were degrees of virginity, Mike would be among the purest. He had never been on a date, never kissed a girl, never seen one naked or even topless. The only things impure about him were his thoughts and those innumerable trysts with his hand. High school had not been the best of times for Mike, and senior year was the worst. He matured late growing eight inches in the eight months before graduation. Limited family resources, a result of his father's disability, meant his wardrobe lost race after race with his body. For the most part, he looked like some gangly Huck Finn with three inches of bare arm sticking out of his shirt sleeves and pant cuffs high enough to remain dry when fording small streams. He tried to take the ribbing of classmates good-naturedly, took what pleasure he could in the fact that he wouldn't spend his life at five feet seven inches. Now 6'3" all those features that had been oddly proportioned making him look and feel goofy suddenly fit. Mike the butterfly has emerged from his chrysalis, he thought as he admired himself in the mirror then immediately chastised himself for such a "girly" analogy. The ugly ducking has become... Ugh! Was his the mind of a six-year-old? Mike wasn't just adding stature to femur, fibula, and tibia either. For each inch in height, he added half that where it counted most: his cock. Mike knew because he kept precise records. In September, he measured a rock hard five inches. By Christmas, he was sporting six and a half inch boners. At spring break he was a full eight inches, topping out at a stunning nine, thick inches in May. His cock was not limited to a growth spurt either; there was also spurt growth. At the beginning of the year, lying in bed jerking off, Mike could hit his collarbone with the first two squirts of his five shot orgasms. By midyear he could easily fire over his head with four or five shots and orgasms were lasting nine to twelve contractions each. In May, Mike could blast the wall behind his bed three feet above where he lay. Not wanting to create enormous messes to clean up, he usually pointed his dick straight up shooting cum geysers four feet high before they came splashing onto his bare torso. Sometimes, he would try to aim his ejaculation so it would land on his face, capturing some on his tongue and mouth. He was flexible enough that, as his cock grew, he was able to get his tongue, and finally, his lips around the head. While what he did felt great, he never actually succeeded in sucking himself off. He did, however jerk himself off into his own mouth sometimes. He felt perverted, not realizing that these were the things teenage boys either accomplished or attempted. * * * * There was only one other passenger on the regional jet that flew Mike into Cheyenne, a man who appeared to be in his fifties and slept most of the way. Mike guessed the solitary flight attendant to be mid to late twenties and reasonably cute. He stared at her often and she caught him more than once. She too had noticed the tall, lean, good-looking teen as he checked in and boarded her flight. With the plane virtually empty, she knew she could either go up front with the pilot and co-pilot or flirt with the kid in seat 4A. She chose the latter. The first thing she did was to go into the galley and roll the waistband of her navy-blue skirt over four times so the hem went from the top of the knee to mid-thigh. "Hi," she said, settling onto the aisle armrest of 6B with her legs facing Mike. "I'm Jen." "Mike," he said dragging his gaze from her legs to her eyes. Jen had a great time watching Mike struggle to maintain eye contact. Every time he ogled her legs, she would steal a look at his crotch. The kid was packing something, that was for sure, and it was getting bigger. Jen continually touched Mike on the arm or shoulder as they talked about themselves. Once she punched his arm when he made a sarcastic comment, and once she tousled his hair because she found him so cute. "How do you like your job?" Mike asked. "It's OK," Jen responded. "I really like your uniform. You look good in it." "Really?" Jen answered, genuinely flattered. She stood up and modeled it for him, turning backward and then sideways. She knew she had a nice figure. Sitting again, she draped one leg onto the seat next to Mike leaving her knees wider apart. He could feel his erection building. "The material is very soft. Go ahead, feel it." Blood rushed immediately to Mike's cock and he felt a pain as it tried to push down his tight pants leg. Gently, quickly, he ran two fingers a few inches across the hem of the skirt. He felt the firmness of her thigh under the skirt. "Very nice," Mike said. His ambiguity was unintentional. Despite the minimalism of the sexual content in his touch to Jen's leg, it was the most intimate contact he'd ever had with a female. Mike's phallus screamed silently as it lay cramped, doubled over, against his thigh. Pre-cum was beginning to leak through his shorts and moisten his jeans. "Not like that," Jen admonished grabbing his hand. She placed it flat against her thigh and pulled it up to within an inch of her pussy. As she did, Mike watched intently. He was not the only person in row four whose genitals were leaking liquid. He was, however, the only one whose fluid was showing. A silver dollar sized spot had formed to the left of his fly. "Oh my!" exclaimed Jen, nearly giggling out loud. "Did you spill something?" She was well aware, of course, of the true source of the liquid causing the wet spot. "Let me get you a towel to blot that," she said as she swayed toward the galley. She could feel a squishy slipperiness between her own legs as she sashayed with exaggerated undulations. No sooner had she turned the corner than Mike popped out of his seat. He was unaware of the slit in the galley wall through which Jen watched as he pried at the hard cock trying to reduce his pain. As he walked forward, in the same direction the flight attendant had just taken, Jen could make out an enormous denim covered tube extending from the crotch to the left, front pocket of Mike's jeans. It had been a long time since she'd dick teases someone so young and she was having fun as well as becoming excited. When he reached the galley, Mike poked his head around the corner so he wouldn't expose his obvious boner to the friendly stewardess. "I'll take care of it in the men's room," he stated as he slipped into the cramped lavatory. Once inside, he ripped down his pants and sighed out loud as his phallus sprang from its tight, denim prison. Grabbing himself, Mike began beating his meat to relieve the lust consuming him. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why Mike had rushed to the toilet. Jen smiled when she heard the moans of self-gratification emitting from inside the restroom. Briefly, she considered knocking on the door to ask if she could help with anything but thought that would be too cruel. Instead, she closed her eyes and formed a mental image of her young hunk fisting his giant phallus and beating himself off as he thought of her. She squeezed her thighs tightly together and pushed her cunt against the edge of the counter and let the vibrations of the aircraft bring her pleasure as Mike fired rope after seminal rope into the stainless steel bowl of the plane's toilet. Her airplane-induced orgasm did little to quench the blaze between her thighs and, ten minutes after Mike returned to his seat, Jen resumed her perch atop the armrest of 4B. "What I really dislike about what we have to wear are these," Jen said, as she pinched the nylon of her pantyhose between her thumb and forefinger, picking up the conversation as if both hadn't just rushed off for a measure sweet relief. Pulling the stocking away from her thigh just below her hemline, Jen jammed it with her thumbnail causing a deliberate run. "Fuck," she cursed softly brushing at her leg as if that might repair the damage. "Damn it, I'm going to catch hell if my super sees that when we land." "Maybe she won't notice," offered Mike trying to comfort this beauty in distress. "Oh, she'll see it all right. That's a guarantee." Jen deliberately gouged a hole making sure she wouldn't chicken out on her tease. "What do you think?" she asked Mike running her finger across the nylon and her bare flesh. "I've got a pretty good tan. If I slip these off, I'll bet nobody will notice. Plus, anything will be an improvement over this." Checking on the sleeping man in the back of the plane, Jen kicked off her shoes. Crouching as modestly as she could so as not to appear ludicrously loose, she reached under her skirt and pulled her pantyhose over her hips and ass. Mike stared, incredulous, watching a woman partially disrobe in front of him. His hard on was back with a vengeance, poking out along his left pants leg. It was as if he hadn't just jerked off ten minutes ago. As she slid her torn garment down her thighs, Jen noticed that her panties had come down along with the pantyhose. While she hadn't planned to take the tease that far, she nonchalantly removed them too. Fishing her panties from inside the hose, she felt her moistness on them. Mike's mind spun wildly as the sight of her pretty pink thong caused his genital shaft to pulse out its renewed hunger. "I'll probably need these later," Jen smiled as she thrust the lacy panty into her jacket pocket before resuming her perch. "Souvenir?" she giggled holding out the torn nylon garment. It didn't surprise her that the teen reached for them even though he probably had no idea just what he might do with such a trophy. Jen slipped her now bare right foot into her flight shoe. The other shoe had landed near Mike's feet and she asked him to retrieve it. Placing her left foot on the seat cushion between them, she felt the air of the cabin caress her naked pussy as she waited for her footgear. The coolness of the breeze against her labia confirmed that she was again becoming hotly aroused from her games. When he brought the shoe up, Mike stared at the beautiful tanned flesh inches from his hands. With one foot on the floor and the other on the seat cushion, Jen's legs were spread wide and he could see several inches up her skirt, almost to what he knew to be her bare cunt. Mike had no control over the moan that escaped his throat as he contemplated just sliding his hand right up Jen's thigh to finally touch that which he'd fantasized touching so many, many times. For the first time in his life he detected the aphrodisiacal aroma he would come to know as the heat of the human female – as if he needed more stimulation. He could feel his cock throbbing as it again ached with need. Even Jen thought she could see the denim material pulsating as she stared at the hard on in Mike's jeans. Slipping on her shoe, Jen moved her foot off the seat and crossed her right leg over her left. "What do you think, Mike?" she asked as she ran her hand up her leg from her ankle to her hem and even higher, pulling her skirt up as she continued until her hand butted against her pussy and could trace no further. "Does it look like I have stockings on?" Mike held his breathe as he saw her entire limb revealed to his gaze. His heart skipped a beat as he felt a pre-orgasm tingle and dance along his scrotum and glans. Only the fear of the embarrassment of cumming in his pants kept his climax at bay. "Yeah, I think so," Mike answered having swallowed hard in order to speak at all. "Oh, I have a question," Jen announced bubbly like she hadn't thought it while letting the galley counter vibrate her to climax earlier. "I had my legs waxed for the first time yesterday. I think they're much smoother than shaving. What do you think?" Mike shuddered in complete, unbounded arousal as she spun toward him laying her left leg on the seat and placing her right foot on his thigh. "Go ahead," she teased gleefully, "feel them." Mike touched her calf and ran his palm against her skin. He'd never felt anything so soft and his moan told Jen that. He wished he could press his cheek against her leg. "I've never felt anything so nice," Mike told her looking into her eyes with gratitude. "Up here too, silly," Jen told him placing his hand on her thigh and pulling it almost all the way to her pussy. She let go hoping he'd move further and discover her dampness, but he didn't. He couldn't. The softness of Jen's upper thigh was infinitely greater than the calf he'd just felt, and the sensation finally pushed him over the edge. "Oh, god!" he groaned as he pushed his face against her thigh. He knew he'd lost his battle and began convulsing as semen spewed from his cock slit. Mike would have to be embarrassed later as he gave himself to the same spontaneous climax he sometimes enjoyed at night in his dreams. Jen could not escape her own hands-free climax as her clit began twitching violently when she saw and felt Mike's groans as his lips began kissing her thigh. She clamped her thighs against his ears as she humped out her involuntary orgasm. She half hoped to feel his tongue against her vulva but never did. Releasing Mike's imprisoned head, Jen finally slid into seat 4B as both gasped for air. Slowly, they recovered from their unconventional visit to the mile-high club. "My god, Mike," Jen whispered in contentment, "I've never experienced anything like that before." Turning toward him she saw the huge cum spot on his jeans. "I'd better get you something for that," she said reaching into his lap and running her hand the length of his softening cock to feel the wetness she'd caused. Poor Mike was too close to his climax to enjoy the feeling of the first female hand to stroke his clothed cock. "That tickles," Mike told her, as he jerked his knees upward and grabbed her arm to make its movements stop. "Be right back," she said as she withdrew her hand and got up to fetch Mike something to dry his pants. As she walked forward, she brought her fingers to her nose so she could smell the stimulating freshness of young cum. Somebody's going to get lucky in Cheyenne, she thought, staring at the cockpit door and thinking of the men beyond it. Hell, with how I feel right now, maybe two somebodies. Jen took a moment to wipe her own soaking genitals before returning to Mike with the promised towel. Again sitting in 4B, she leaned over and pretended to mop up his seminal fluid. In reality, it was little more than an ill-disguised effort to play with his cock. Damn, he felt big. Jen wanted to see it but there wasn't time. A light flashed in the galley. "Mmmm," she said as released the towel and sat straight. "I'd love finish that for you but I've got to prepare for landing. If you're ever in St. Louis, I'd love for you to call me." Jen leaned over and kissed Mike's cheek as she slipped a piece of folded paper into his pocket. Just before she got up, she moved her index finger to her lips and kissed it. Then she moved her finger to his jeans and traced it the length of his cock. Once more, bolts of lightening ricocheted through the nerve endings of Mike's genital system. At the airport in Cheyenne, Mike exited the plane onto the tarmac. Once inside the terminal, there were few people and none who looked like she might be his aunt. His eyes were immediately drawn to a hot blonde who had her back to him. She wore cowboy boots, faded jeans, a white shirt, and a cream colored Stetson. It was difficult to tell whether it was the tight jeans that made her ass so firm or her firm ass that made the jeans so tight. Either way, she was much too young and Mike turned his attention to the dumpy, graying woman about ten feet to the blonde's right. Approaching her, Mike was just about to ask, "Aunt Molly?" when she waved to someone behind him. Turning, Mike saw the other man on his flight waving back. Mike began to look for a phone so he could call his aunt or his mother to see what had gone wrong. Just as he started off, the blonde turned around. It was as if he were staring at Charlize Theron and he stopped dead in his tracks. Molly was as shocked by her nephew's appearance as he was by hers, but she knew immediately it had to be Mike. His jeans were brand new and his sneakers were a dingy gray. He wore no hat. His clothes screamed out-of-towner! "Mike?" she asked. He smiled and approached her with his hand extended. "Did my Aunt Molly send you?" Mike asked not believing his luck. Are you staying at the ranch he hoped more than wondered. "I guess you could say that," the woman laughed. "I AM your Aunt Molly!" Mike blushed deep crimson as his aunt pushed past his hand and hugged him tightly. The blood left his face rushing southward as her soft, hard body pressed against his. Thankfully, the contact was mercifully brief. With his duffel bag in the back of the pickup, Molly asked Mike if he'd like to take the wheel to start what would be an almost six hour trip to the ranch just outside Big Piney. As they drove, Mike drank in the beauty of the desolate countryside. Molly told him about the ranch and all the things that needed doing. Lucky at Summer Ch. 01 "First we're going to get you a pair of boots," Molly laughed, mocking his footwear. "And a hat. Then you won't look like such a tenderfoot." Molly was the first to confess her surprise at her nephew's physique. "Shit, Mike," his aunt said peppering her language with the easy curse words that accompany the rough life of the open range, "I didn't know you'd got so tall." Mike detailed his extraordinary growth over the last year but didn't think it appropriate to include corresponding information about his penis. "Truth be told," Mike confessed to his aunt, "I thought you was my age when I saw you from the back like that." "Why Mike, how nice of you to say that. You just earned yourself a better pair of boots." "No, I really mean it!" "If you don't stop flattering me I'm not going to be able to afford your new footwear," Molly smiled. "One thing for sure, the ranch will keep you fit." "How old are you anyways?" Mike asked before thinking maybe he shouldn't have. "That is, if you want to tell," he added quickly. "A lady never tells," Molly laughed, "course that don't apply to me. I'm forty-six, Mike. Was married to your Uncle Hastings for twenty-eight." "Do you miss him?" Mike asked with genuine sympathy. "Every day, Mike," Molly answered morosely before turning upbeat. "But look at the stud I got now! I'm so glad you're here Mike. It gets pretty lonely sometimes." Whether or not Molly realized she was sending mixed signals to her nephew with references to him as a stud and her being lonely, Mike quickly became befuddled. The truck fell silent as he tried to sort out his feelings for an aunt he hadn't seen in more than a decade. He knew the thoughts that were jumping into his brain shouldn't be there but was powerless to stop them. It was late afternoon when Mike pulled the pickup into the lane that led to the house. It was a narrow two-story frame structure in need of painting and serious upgrades to windows, doors, and mechanicals. The first floor contained a living room, dining room, kitchen, and powder room. Upstairs were two decent sized bedrooms separated by a common bath. Molly lit the burner under the stew she'd made the day before knowing she'd be gone all day to Cheyenne and back. Then she took Mike upstairs and showed him his bedroom. The bathroom, Mike noticed had three entrances: one from each bedroom and one from the hallway. After supper, Molly cleaned up the kitchen while Mike put away his clothes. He had exactly one pair of sneakers, two pairs of new Levis, three new cotton shirts with collars, five tee shirts, five pair of socks, and five pair of briefs. He never knew how desperately low those new clothing purchases left his mother's bank account. No matter the sacrifice, she would not send her son out to face the world with an ill-fitting wardrobe. Also packed with his clothes were photographs of his mother and father, his high school yearbook, about a dozen magazines and two books he had resolved to read. As he was finishing unpacking, Aunt Molly poked her head in to say she was taking a shower before turning in. "Can I go down and watch TV for a bit when I'm finished?" Mike asked. "Sure, honey, but not too late. The sun gets up early and so do we." She left him to ponder her use of a term that sweethearts use. Leaving his room for the stairs, Mike noticed the bathroom door was open about four inches and the light was on inside. He tried to move quickly past it but was unable to refrain from glancing inside. What he saw made him stop dead. He could see just a sliver of Molly's body but it was clear she was naked. She faced away from the door. All he could see was her extreme left side. Her arm was at her side and Mike could see her shoulder, arm and a strip of her back. From the waist down, he could see part of her buttock, but not the crack, and the left half of her left leg. Molly slipped a towel around herself and turned around. Mike was startled and froze like a deer in the headlights as he watched her close the door. "Shit!" he muttered to himself and scurried for the stairs. Downstairs, Mike quickly discovered that the ranch had no cable and the three channels that could be received were fuzzy. He soon retired to his room. Lying in bed, Mike was not surprised when his erection paid him a third visit that day. He began stroking himself using images of Jen to fuel his lust. Mike was mildly surprised when thoughts of his Aunt Molly intruded. He finished quickly as images of both women filled his mind. Less that thirty feet from where Mike arm wrestled his one-eyed pants python, Molly struggled with her own forbidden thoughts and images. Her nephew was far more attractive and desirable than she'd considered when she sent her request to her sister. It had been seven long months since Hastings had died and more than twice that since they'd last been intimate. In all that time, she'd never once felt the familiar ache that had so dominated her physical life since puberty. When her husband fell ill, it was as if her libido just died. The demons that lived in her ovaries and converted estrogen into liquid heat requiring constant extinguishment from male fluids simply disappeared completely. Molly didn't care where they'd gone nor why. She didn't miss them. But now they were back, and in their dormancy they'd grown more powerful. It was as if her nephew's arrival had released them from a prison. Gently she massaged her inner thighs trailing her fingertips close to her pussy lips without touching them. Her teasing hands did nothing to ease her tensions; rather they inflamed them. For the first time in more than fourteen months, Molly slid open her nightstand drawer and groped in the dark. There was no mistaking the hard plastic. Gripping the long tube with one tapered end between her fingers and thumb, she slid the instrument between her thighs. Feeling slightly virginal from her sexual hiatus, Molly gently rubbed the "head" against her moist labia. She moaned out her self-induced pleasure. Soon, the tip was slick with feminine juices and Molly was able to insert about three inches before the dry shaft began to stick in resistance. Pulling the vibrator out most of the way, she swirled the end around her vulva as one might a fat straw in a thick milkshake, coating it with more goo. This time, nearly five inches slid easily inside her. Molly continued swirling and thrusting until the hard plastic phallus easily moved in and out of her vagina. Pulling her old companion out, she rested the tip against her clitoris while she twisted the end to produce those sweet, pulsating vibrations that would lift out the orgasm that she'd held for so long. Nothing. Molly didn't know whether to curse or cry. Thinking of her nephew for courage, she did neither. No doubt the batteries had lost their charge in their extended hibernation. She threw off her covers moved one hand to her clit and thrust the plastic cylinder to and fro with the other. Her climax was so long and so beautiful it seemed as if it never would or should end. Eventually, she exhausted herself and sagged limp on the mattress. The vibrator remained lodged in her vagina as the tears began to flow onto her pillowcase. But these weren't tears of sorrow, or bitterness, or frustration as they had been for over a year. They were tears of relief and renewal. Her long mourning of Hastings had come to an end. Lucky at Summer Ch. 02 As usual, Molly awoke with the sun. Today was different than the past four hundred or so. She felt fresh, alive, more sixteen than forty-six. The source of her regeneration was her nephew Mike who had arrived the day before to help with the ranch for the summer. Hot images of the good looking youth had invaded her night's rest and she'd masturbated for the first time since her husband Hastings had fallen ill and passed away more than fourteen months ago. The bright feelings of a freshly satisfied libido put a bounce in her step as she dressed quickly. Hastings had taught her early on that sleeping nude meant one less thing to do at night and in the morning. She always kidded him about ulterior motives. Her jeans were soft and faded from six months of thrice weekly wearings and twenty-six launderings. Ranchers never purchased so-called "pre-washed" denim. Their new levis were always stiff and bright blue with one of the world's distinctive and recognizable aromas. Molly rarely wore panties but had, long ago, taken up bras when working (but not for parties!) because the nipples on her perky b-cup breasts tended to raise noticeable protrusions under her shirt without one. Just being an attractive woman provided enough sexual distractions in the man's world of ranching without introducing something as overt as visibly hard nipples. A cotton shirt covered the bra and cotton socks were covered by her boots. Her hat was downstairs; it wasn't worn inside. Today, there would be one new task before heading downstairs for breakfast. Molly left the bathroom light on as she opened the connecting door to the spare room where her nephew now slept. "Mike," she called softly taking two steps into the room. She could see the sleeping teen in the dim light. "Mike," she called again. Had she been closer, Molly might have been able to make out the rapid movements of the boys eyes beneath his closed lids. The dream Mike was having suddenly veered erotic as he heard a feminine voice call his name. In sleep, he saw a dream girl say, "Mike" again. The dream lovers quickly embraced and Mike recognized her as Jen from the airplane flight. Outside the dream, Molly approached the bed and touched Mike gently on the shoulder. "Mike, come on honey, it's time to get up." Back inside the dream, Mike heard Jen call him honey and ask if he could get it up. Somehow the couple had become naked and Mike grabbed his stiffy to show Jen he was erect. The movements from the slumbering vision became visible to Molly as Mike rolled onto his back and slid his hand onto his morning missile. "Baby, I am up," Mike announced to both Jen-the-illusion and Molly-the-reality. Baby, you sure are, Molly thought as she stared at what was easily the largest sheet gazebo she'd ever laid eyes on. How big are you? She wondered as she stared, held her breath, and imagined that Barnum & Bailey had set up a slightly smaller version of their Big Top in her spare bedroom. She knew she would be masturbating again tonight. Silently, Molly wondered if she could slip the sheet down without waking her eroticized nephew. She'd give a month's profits at that moment for an unobstructed view of what must be an enormous purple-headed yogurt slinger. Unexpectedly, for Molly at least, Mike's hand began moving on his cock. The arousing display transfixed her for a moment more. She felt herself becoming flushed. With great effort, she managed to pull herself back from a dangerous precipice. There was no time for sex in the mornings, and more importantly, he was her nephew and that made it wrong even if the twenty-eight year difference in their ages didn't. Grabbing his arm, Molly yanked Mike's hand off his cock. In his dream, Jen playfully pulled at his arm to keep him from jerking off. "Mike!" Molly said sternly. The outside world broke into his dream and his eyes fluttered open. "Time for breakfast," his aunt said. "See you downstairs in five minutes." Molly flipped on the light as she walked to the door. She couldn't resist on last look at her stretching nephew. She knew that he, too, must sleep nude, as she hungrily ogled the crotch teepee in the bed sheet one last time. Before he could dress, Mike faced the painful task of draining his bladder through a full erection. A morning pee was the only way he knew to get rid of his hard on short of jerking off. The problem was the toilet bowl was below his genitals and his cockslit pointed at the ceiling. Maneuvering himself above the toilet, Mike squatted and bent ninety degrees at the waist so his cock was parallel with the floor. In this position, his cock needed be bent only slightly below horizontal, which was more than painful enough to accomplish. Finally downstairs, Mike looked forward to his first full day as a ranch hand with more alacrity than he'd expected. At breakfast, he fidgeted as he remembered how he'd gotten caught peeping at his aunt in the shower the previous night. He figured it would be best to confront the issue head on. "I'm really sorry about last night," Mike offered his aunt. "Whatever are you talking about?" Molly responded, genuinely perplexed. "You know, about the bathroom." Molly didn't answer; she looked quizzically at her nephew. "When I was coming downstairs to watch TV, you were in the shower," Mike continued. "I sort of, accidentally, looked in? You had to close the door?" "Really?" Molly answered. "I don't remember that at all. It's probably my fault. Hastings and I never closed those doors. No need to. Did I at least give you a good show?" She teased. Mike blushed deeply. "No! I swear I didn't see anything! Not really, anyway." "Damn," joked his aunt, "I'll have to be less careful in the future." She winked playfully at Mike and tousled his hair. "C'mon sweetie, I'll show you the barns." That night, after supper, Molly took her shower while Mike cleaned the kitchen. Later, it was his turn in the bathroom. Mike carefully closed the doors to his aunt's bedroom and the hallway before stripping to shower. None of the doors had locks. As he toweled himself off, he noticed the door to Molly's room was now six inches ajar. He was sure he'd closed it. Molly's bedroom was pitch black so it was impossible for him to see anyone in there. He realized that the light in the bathroom meant he could easily be seen. Was his aunt spying on him? The thought sent him into a pre-arousal modality and his cock and scrotum began to tingle. He quickly closed the door again as his penis began to harden. The following evening, Mike's shower was a repeat performance. He carefully closed both doors only to discover the one to his aunt's bedroom open again as he stepped from behind the shower curtain. After that, he didn't bother closing the door to Molly's room again. But when he left it open six inches before he showered, he found it open twelve inches when he got out. By the next night, the door to Molly's bedroom was open completely and from then on, he let it stay that way when he cleaned up at the end of the day. Mike never saw his aunt in her room but felt she watched him from somewhere. He stopped trying to restrain his cock from becoming hard or concealing it as his erection began to build. At first, he'd pull his towel away as his cock swelled to half-staff caused by thinking about a gorgeous woman wanting to see him naked. Finally, he took to disrobing in his bedroom and entering the bathroom displaying a rip-roaring flesh rocket, even stroking it for his hidden admirer. Molly knew what she was doing was wrong, but it had been so long, and she meant no harm. Ever since the first morning when she discovered Mike's sheet thrust obscenely away from his sleeping body, she had become fascinated with her nephew's cock. It was so much bigger than any other she'd seen. She realized she was becoming obsessed with the nine-inch cylinder of pure pleasure. Mike's body was having a more profound effect on Molly than anything done by Hastings...or the other men. For his part, Mike got equally aroused watching his hot aunt in her jeans during the day or as he showed off for her in the evening. Eventually, he realized Molly was also visually devouring his morning sheet statue when she came to awaken him. If he heard her getting up, he'd roll onto his back and grab it so it pointed straight up for her maximum enjoyment. Both aunt and nephew spent the nights of that first week applying liberal doses of manual medicine to their mutually enflamed genitalia. On Saturday afternoon, Molly took Mike to town for boots and hat as promised. Sexual tensions had been building all week. Molly liked to keep the hours from 1:00 pm Saturday till sun up Monday as free as possible. Like more sophisticated employers before them, she and Hastings had learned that more could be accomplished in a week if one and a half days were devoted to leisure than by working all seven. It took more than three hours just to drive to town, do some shopping and drive home. Molly spent much more than she'd planned for Mike's stuff but, considering the excitement he'd been providing her back at the ranch, she felt she could do no less. Molly found out all there was to Mike's sexual history, or rather lack thereof, on the outing. "Are you upset that you had come spend the summer with me?" Molly began as Mike drove the truck home after shopping. "No, not really, it's so..." "Mike," his aunt interrupted, "will you do me a favor? Will you promise me something?" "Sure," said Mike, not as eager to please his aunt as the beautiful woman who was his aunt. "Be honest with me. Promise you'll tell the truth. I want us to be friends this summer. Would you like us to be friends?" "Sure," said her nephew, "I promise." "So tell me, you really didn't want to come out here, did you?" "Not at first, no," Mike answered making sure he was truthful. "What would you be doing back home?" asked Molly. "Cleaning pools," Mike said laughing. "Staring at the pretty girls?" Mike's laugh contained a large measure of nervousness at where the conversation was heading. "Well, I sort of hoped." "No pretty girls out here, Mike." "Just pretty women," Mike sighed as he blushed. "So, tell me about those pretty girls," Molly prodded. "What was your girlfriend like?" "Honestly?" Mike asked with a smile. "I've never had a date." "Can I ask you a question?" Mike uttered nervously during a lull in the conversation. "Sure," answered Molly. "Will you tell the truth?" Mike wanted to know. "Depends on the question," his aunt teased. "Why don't you just ask?" "Have you been watching me? At night?" Molly paused for a few seconds. "I'll tell you the truth but not right now." At supper, Molly opened a bottle of wine. Somewhat surprisingly, she hadn't self-medicated with alcohol during Hastings' illness and after his death as she had done during other times of crisis. In fact, she had been cold sober the entire time. Mike had only marginally more experience with booze in high school than he'd had with women. However, if you counted Jen on the plane and his recent bouts of exhibitionism to darkened bedroom, the ten beers he'd shared with Jim over the course of senior year made him now decidedly more experienced sexually than he was alcoholically. The wine quickly made both the mature woman and younger male tipsy. It was a setting in which more than one boy had become a man, albeit, not usually at the hands of his aunt. The pair was sharing some riotous/embarrassing laughs about some of Mike's early adventures at riding some of the ranch's horses when suddenly the room turned erotic. Molly got up and uncorked a second bottle of wine. Mike was sitting with his feet up on the ottoman. When she walked over to refresh his glass, Molly swung her denim-covered leg over his knees and stood straddling him as she held out the bottle. Mike offered his glass while looking up as his hot aunt and began to swell. Molly filled the glass then offered a toast. "To a very happy summer," she offered clicking the bottle against Mike's glass. She took her swig directly from the bottle. Molly understood full well what implications she was sending her nephew with her legs spread above his. Moving to the side, she let her butt cheek and left leg slide onto the arm of the chair. She slid her left arm across the chair-back behind Mike's head and her right leg lay across his. "Yes," said Molly answering a question Mike had asked hours ago. There was a hint of slur in her enunciation. She gently ran the fingers of her left hand through her nephew's hair. "Pardon me?" Mike answered taking a gulp from his glass. Molly joined him, sipping from the bottle. His speech, too, was showing evidence of alcohol. In his pants, his cock was beginning to cause him pain. "You wanted to know if I watched you through the open bathroom door. The answer is yes. Did you know?" "I wasn't sure. I never saw you." "Did you hope I was watching? Did you want me to see you? Is that why you stroked yourself? So I would notice it?" Molly had moved her lips closer to Mike's ear, and spoke in a throaty, slurred whisper. "I don't know. I guess so." "Why were you so hard? Did you get that way thinking of me watching you?" Molly asked, letting her tongue reach out and pull her nephew's lobe between her lips. "Yes," answered a barely audible Mike. Molly's gaze drifted down the long, lean body sitting next to her and settled on the swelling crotch. She detected subtle, pulsing motion there as if some separate, distinct life form squirmed beneath her nephew's jeans. Briefly, she stopped the gentle nipping of her teeth and swabbing of her tongue at Mike's ear. "Take it out. Show it to me, Mike," she commanded. Mike drained the remaining liquid in his glass. His aunt took it from him, took another big swig from the bottle and placed both items on the floor beside the chair. She returned her mouth to her nephew's ear as she watched him lower his fly and insert his hand. It is unlikely the designers of Levis jeans spend time researching the level of difficulty involved in extracting a nine-inch phallus through a five-inch fly. Where there's a will, there's a way, however, and there is probably no more powerful will than that of an aroused teen to comply with the expressed wishes of an attractive, older female that he show her his cock. There was never any question in Mike's mind that his dick was coming out. Despite the pain, using contortions worthy of Houdini himself, his pole was exposed to his admiring aunt. He heard her quick intake of air when he released the turgid tube now jutting handsomely from his fly. "My god, Mike, it's so beautiful," Molly gasped seeing her nephew's erection up close. Reaching down, she stroked it softly. Molly's hand felt like a silken pelted mink. Mike could not prevent the wild, pulsing convulsions that caused his erection to thrash at the air like a frustrated pugilist. Molly maintained the contact between the cock and her hand as she languidly slid down from the arm of the chair to kneel between her nephew's legs. Her eyes were a mere six inches from the most magnificent sexual organ she'd ever seen. She continued stroking like it was a new puppy. She'd never seen a cock release pre-cum like Mike did. No man "ejaculates" his pre-seminal fluid, but whereas it seeps slowly from the cockslits of ordinary guys, Mike seemed to pulse his out. The liquid treasure gushed out and down his shaft coating Molly's fingers. Soon, gobs of clear, slick, gooey fluid were coating his, cock, her hands, his balls, and more was pouring out like a leaky drinking fountain. Molly could feel the wild shivers that wracked her nephew's body. His cock was literally vibrating in her hand. She knew his orgasm -- the easy one as her husband would joke about his first climax of the evening - was at hand. She wanted him to know she wanted it. "That's it Mike, shoot for me. Let me see how hot you are to show me your cum." Drool was forming in the corners of Mike's mouth as all he could do was moan. Molly pumped her hand slick from his juice up and down. She trembled as uncontrollably as he. The size of the liquid bullets Mike shot from his nine-inch gun and the distance they traveled left Molly breathless. After the third volley, a more lusty desire overcame her and she let her mouth slide over the scrumptious, spurting cock. Soft, warm, and slick, Molly's oral grotto caused his half-drained love muscle to pump harder. Her mouth filled despite her continual swallowing and semen leaked out and down onto her shirt. Eventually, even Mike's testicular reservoir began to run dry. Molly slowed her mouth and tongue and began a leisurely cleansing of her nephew's tool. She moved all around his sticky shaft, returning occasionally to lap at the ooze still welling from the quieting blowhole. Young cum: it was even more delicious than Molly remembered. It had to be more than a decade since she'd tasted that young cowboy at the Calgary Stampede while Hastings banged the boy's mother in the bedroom. Dipping her head further, Molly laved clean the scrotum and inner thighs. She even licked at the cum drippings on his jeans and scooped dollops from her chin to savor on her tongue. Finally, she sat back, closed her eyes and smiled to herself. She felt more physically drained after claiming the easiest orgasm she'd ever sought than from any day of ranch work. It didn't last long, however. In less than three minutes, Molly felt Mike come back to life. "Mmmm, Aunt Molly, that was..." She turned and held her finger to his lips. Mike fell silent. Rising up to her knees again, she saw Mike's big cock still sticking through his fly. It wasn't completely hard, but Molly had not doubt it had never become completely soft either. She reached for his boot and began tugging it off. She pulled the other one off, too, before she stood and helped Mike to his feet. There she unbuckled his belt and opened his Levis. She sank to her knees again as she pulled his jeans to his ankles. Mike's white jockeys proved more difficult as she had to thread that big, hardening cock back through an opening provided for soft urinating penises, not angry, raging phalluses. Finally, the briefs joined the jeans and Mike stepped out of both. "I love your big cock, Mike," Molly cooed as she began stroking her nephew anew. "You're so hard again already. A lady likes that." Mike could see his aunt's blue eyes smiling up at him. Mike was pretty sure he had a big dick. He'd seen a few adult videos and some stuff on the net. Of course, some of the stars were bigger than he was, but a lot weren't. He was glad his aunt was leading him through this important step of his life. Molly gave Mike a few quick sucks to make sure he was completely hard and add some wetness to the end of his dick. She was sure she'd need as much help as possible. Not only that, she enjoyed pleasing it with her mouth and doing so added to her own internal moisture. Standing again, Molly took Mike's hand and led him upstairs. She had him lie on his bed while she removed her clothes and became the first live woman her nephew saw naked. He still had his shirt on when Molly began to mount him. She would do the fucking this first time. Mike was clearly bigger than any real or fake cock she had had. Straddling him, she reached between them and grabbed his cock, placing it against her austral lips. Her labia quivered, leaking slick fluid onto the cock head. Mike groaned softly. Slowly, Molly lowered herself until the head was inside her. It felt huge and wonderful. It stretched her wider than any cock she'd ever had. It also went in much more easily than she believed it would. Mmmm, she thought to herself, this is going to be even nicer than I thought. Lucky at Summer Ch. 02 Molly sank down another two inches before the dryness of Mike's middle shaft caused progress to halt. She still held the base of Mike's prick in her hand, and as she rode back up the fat stalk, she forced more of her pussy lube out where it coated her external genitals, and leaked down onto Mike's. On the next down stroke, Molly's smooth pussy touched her hand. She was widened beyond anything she'd ever known and it was magnificent. She removed her hand from the cock and tried to continue downward. She progressed perhaps another half-inch. Mike laid stock still as his aunt ground her cunt onto his dick. Nothing had ever felt better, smoother, and slicker, in his life. His second orgasm was rapidly approaching. He simply lay with his eyes closed absorbing those sensations that constitute fucking. Normally, Molly would have been disappointed in such a quick shooter. Right now, however, her own climax had been building for over an hour. More and more rapidly, she slipped up Mike's dick and back down. As the long fat cock refilled her suddenly deflated chamber, she realized what other women meant when they raved about being filled, stretched to their limit. It was such a womanly feeling. She wanted Mike's cock fully encased in her vagina but she realized that would have to wait for a future fuck as she hastily, jerkily humped up and down on the upper two-thirds of her nephew's hard dick. Wondrously, the pair came together in the quickest dick dunking in Molly's memory. She felt the cum spurts like great globs from a super heated grease gun lubricating the way for her to pump her pussy even harder and faster. With her cunt walls stretched so tight, every slight movement, every change of direction, every attempt to go deeper caused Molly to experience the most delightful sensations. The massive head of Mike's cock felt like a large plum bobbing up and down inside her cuntal canal like a pig in a python. The intense feelings of smooth cock skin sliding against slick, taut vaginal walls slammed Molly around like a North Shore breaker. She couldn't take Mike deep enough that his cock base would hammer against her clitoris but it didn't matter. Her climax was sharper and more prolonged than smaller dicks could provide. Thirty minutes later, Mike mounted a woman for the first time. Molly was super slick from both their juices and Mike's third erection of the hour slid easily in as far as it had when she rode him. That still left three inches of the thickest part of the cock exposed. With his weight behind the exuberant teenage thrusts, more cock began squeezing into Molly's screaming vagina. But, like OJ trying to jam his fat hand into that leather glove, even Mike's determined pumping couldn't push more than eight of his nine inches inside his aunt. Again, it didn't matter. Molly was already thrashing about spastic's marionette when Mike exploded for the third time. Before the teen could recover, Molly retired to her own room. She knew it would only be a matter of time before he'd be ready again. She was already beginning to feel a soreness that would last for days and had had the best night of sex she could remember. Sunday morning, Molly returned to Mike's room to awaken him. Her pussy was in no condition to endure another round of high-energy intercourse. Her nephew, of course, was another matter. She saw his hard on poking at the blanket as soon as she entered the room. Sitting on the side of his bed, she stroked his cloth covered erection lightly, rousing him from his sleep. "Mmmm," he said, smiling without opening his eyes. He spread his legs granting his aunt unfettered access. Opening his eyes, he reached for her. "Not today, tiger," Molly told him. "I'm much too sore for that," she continued, squeezing him. Then pushing the bed linen aside, exposing his naked genitals, she added, "But that doesn't mean you have to suffer. Let aunty relieve the morning tension for you." Molly dipped her head and captured Mike's cock in her mouth. Slowly, tenderly, lovingly she began her oral stimulations. Her wet mouth felt so soft, so faint, barely a touch at all. The tiny bumps of her soft tongue began rasping against the underside of his dick and her head began to bob. Mike's aunt began to pick up the pace and increased the pressure. Her hand joined her mouth on Mike's prick. "Oh god," Mike moaned, "that feels so good. Oh god, oh god! OH! Oh, I'm not going to be able to hold it! It's cumming, I'M CUMMING!!! OH DAMN! OH FUCK!!! OH SHIT!!" Mike threw his head from side to side on his pillow. His hands had involuntarily grabbed his aunt's head, imprisoning it on his cock. Molly, of course had no intention of moving away from the dick spouting in her mouth. She swallowed her nephew's semen like a delicious, liquid canapé. Standing, Molly looked down at her contented nephew. His eyes were closed and he was clearly enjoying pure bliss in a post-orgasmic utopia. "I'll make us something to eat," she announced. "Why don't you get a shower and I'll meet you downstairs in twenty minutes." After breakfast and a shower of her own, Molly called Mike upstairs. She was naked and sore but horny from delivering her wake-up blowjob. She began where most lovers do before they enjoy an intense night of passion. She kissed Mike lightly on the lips and then slipped her tongue into his mouth. Later, Molly would discover that it was her nephew's first romantic kiss. A second quickly followed, and a third. Each lasted longer than the one before. The pair became increasingly passionate and hungry. Mike's hands caressed his aunt's back and buttocks. Molly hooked her leg behind Mike's and ground her cunt against his crotch. Pulling her mouth from his, Molly grabbed him by the hair and pulled his lips to her nipple. Mike kissed greedily before licking and sucking at it. He grabbed it with his hand and squeezed while he suctioned powerfully with his mouth. He was a bit too rough but Molly chalked that up to innocence. There would be time for teaching tenderness later. Pulling away from her nephew, Molly began undoing his jeans while Mike tore at the buttons of his shirt. She had him lie on his bed. His great penis was poking up at her face as she mounted in the sixty-nine position. Her raw, oozing gash would settle for soft kisses and licks. The hotness of Mike's big cock throbbing between her lips and against her tongue heated her in a way that made up for a lack of technique on his end. Mike definitely required some "hands-on" sex education. In the end, Molly's desire made up for Mike's oral insufficiencies and there was more than enough tonguing from him to get her off in a magnificent climax enhanced by a tasty, squirting man-meal. Lucky at Summer Ch. 03 During Mike's first few weeks at the ranch, he did little more than clean the house, wash clothes, and prepare meals for his Aunt Molly and himself. Although she would never admit it to him of course, what Molly needed most was a "wife" and Mike was it. Being a sharp eighteen year old, Mike knew what role he had been given but he was an eager helper anyway. He knew he was basically useless elsewhere and the chance to watch his aunt's ass in those tight jeans more than compensated for any masculine ego bruising his gender inappropriate role forced upon him. Molly and Mike's sex life settled into a happy routine. Each morning she would awaken him with a blowjob. On Wednesday and Saturday nights, they would fuck, usually three times. Neither could remember being happier. In his spare time, Mike helped in the main horse barn. He learned how to assemble and put on the rider's tack. He practiced riding and gave the horses some needed exercise. Although her spread [the ranch I mean...sheesh] wasn't large, it was more than Molly could handle alone, even more than she and Hastings could fully work together. About three days a week and whenever else Molly needed help, three cowboys from Abigail Campbell's place would help run the ranch with Molly. Primarily, the business made money in four ways: leasing excess acreage to other ranchers for grazing and winter feed crops; selling stock; supplying stud services, particularly Molly's prized Appaloosa stallion Banshee; and leasing riding ponies to nearby dude ranches open during the summer. In the past, Molly and her husband had boarded horses owned by well-off professionals working in the cities of Wyoming and surrounding states but escaping through imagined lives on the open range. She still had two mares that she kept for Bill Dennis, but that represented the smallest portion of her revenues and earnings. As he became more competent, Mike's chores took less time and he began helping Molly with some of the revenue aspects of ranching. In particular, he learned to drive the pickup and horse trailer. He practiced for hours, maneuvering the tandem vehicles forward and back, across open terrain and around obstacles. Mike became a better driver than either Molly or Hastings had ever been. With his newfound talent, Mike began delivering horses for tourists' use and picking up them up when the rush had passed. In time, he was also shuttling stallions to neighboring ranches for stud, including Banshee. His first outing was with the prized stallion proved to be quite an education for a young man still discovering the wonders of Wyoming women. Mike arrived at Abigail Campbell's ranch at 10:30 as scheduled. A pretty girl his own age waved him over to a split-rail corral adjacent to one of the barns. A skittish filly moved nervously inside. "Hi, I'm Amanda," she said as Mike stopped the pickup next to her and lowered the window. "Amanda, not Mandy, if you're thinking about being a friend," she smiled. "Hi, I'm Mike," he smiled back. Girls his own age still made him nervous. "Abby said to put him in with the filly." Abigail Campbell was Molly's best friend and had already heard all about Mike. She deliberately didn't greet him herself sending Amanda, her prettiest and most friendly summer worker in her stead. She wanted to size up this newcomer from afar first. In his boots, Mike stood six feet six. He was lean but muscled. His face and arms were tanned and he was now more handsome than he'd ever been. Amanda's heart skipped a beat as she watched Mike lower that trailer's back gate and begin unloading Banshee. The stallion was more fractious than Mike could remember as the scent of a female in season saturated the air around the corral. Banshee reared up nearly causing Mike to lose control. The horse's fat penis had begun to unsheathe and both teens could clearly see the pink and black flesh bobbing in the air. Amanda had noticed Mike's nervousness from the start and decided to have some fun with the tenderfoot. "Guess he's excited to be here, huh?" she asked, causing Mike to blush. Mike had absolutely no idea what the protocol for horse mating might be and, after delivering the stallion to the corral, headed back to his truck. Until, that is, he saw Amanda mount the fence and take a seat straddling the top rail. Apparently, equine reproduction was a spectator sport. Mike joined her. Almost immediately he knew he'd made a bad choice as watching a fully aroused stallion chase a fertile filly bucking at his attempts to mount while sharing split-rail seating with a gorgeous girl caused his own cock to swell. Amanda was immediately aware of the movement in his jeans. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked being almost cruel in her ambiguity. She let her hand rest on his thigh. Poor Mike was no match for the human beauty. This was Amanda's fourth summer on the ranch and she'd heard all the raucous tales that have been told around the campfires of the west for that past hundred and fifty years. She knew exactly what she'd say next. The coupling itself didn't take very long, but it was sufficient time for her to ask, "How'd you like to do that?" she asked, nodding at the coupled horses. Squeezing his thigh, Amanda looked deep into Mike's eyes with her best come-get-you-some look. "Sure," squeaked Mike in a voice he hadn't used since his testicles descended. "Well go ahead," Amanda laughed as Banshee's phallus slipped dripping from his erstwhile mate. "I don't think Abby will mind and from the size of that stud, I doubt that filly will even know you're in there!" Mike was crimson as Amanda stood up on the fence rails. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before swinging her leg to the ground. "Don't be mad, it's only a joke," she said and started toward the barn. She turned but kept walking backwards. "And don't forget, cutie, it's Amanda," she called letting him know her interest was anything but malicious. Mike watched over his shoulder as Amanda led the filly into the barn, leaving Banshee alone in the corral. He was just beginning to ponder her use of the appellation "cutie" when another voice, deeper and more sultry, startled him. "You must be Mike," it said. He jerked his head around to see a most amazing sight standing by his knee. In her boots with three-inch heels, she was still under five feet high. Brassy, curls sprouted everywhere from under her cream colored Stetson like some blonde medusa. Her fat, pouty lips painted a bright red were no more than a foot and a half from his crotch as she stared up at his roost on the fence. "I'm Abby and Molly has told me all about you," said the voluptuous, almost cartoonishly proportioned female. From the waist down, Abby was an almost normal, albeit well-cushioned, human. It was the two volleyballs Mother Nature had stuffed into her stretchy top that made people's mouth's hang open on first meeting her. "You'll probably never hear another woman say this as the third sentence to a perfect stranger but, yes, they're real. Don't be embarrassed by thinking that, everybody does. Hey, come on in the house and I'll get you a pop." Except to Mike's sexually charged ears, it sounded like she said, 'I'll get you to pop.' Abby handed Mike a can of Pepsi from fridge and opened one for herself. She made no effort to get glasses. That kind of shit only meant something to pampered city cunts. She held her soda up in toast. "That horse got some dick on him, don't he?" she offered without a hint of embarrassment. "Uh...yeah," Mike replied, briefly thrusting his Pepsi toward the ceiling then taking a giant gulp. He had absolutely no idea where this conversation was going. "Don't look so shocked," Abby told him. "I been on this ranch more'n twenty years. Husband's gone off -- again -- some barrel-riding cowgirl this time. That scratches his itch but it don't do nothin' fer mine. With these here tits, I had offers from just about every kind of guy there is. And I had almost as many men as offers. I ain't got enough time in summer as it is, so let's not waste any. Molly tells me that horse ain't the only stud come over here this morning. Says I ought to give you a try. You as good as she says?" Mike may have reacted like a deer in headlights but his cock hadn't lost its ability to respond. Abby had put her soft drink down and was standing a foot away. Both were staring down between them. Mike's eyes were focused on the impossibly vast cleft line that jutted from Abby's low-cut top like the San Andreas Fault. In Abby's vision, it was mounded blue denim as far as the eye could see. When she sighed deeply, both watched her soft, clothed mounds approach the hard denim swell then yield as the two fabrics touched spreading and encircling the teen's phallic bundle. Her hand reached between them stroking Mike's big dick. "Oooo, you are a big boy, ain't you!" Abby said throatily, after letting out a whistle. "We ain't got the time to do things proper, but I ain't lettin' you leave without gettin' a sample." Mike saw, felt, and heard his zipper being lowered. When her hand reached bare flesh, Abby knew Mike's big dick wouldn't come out of the open fly easily so she unbuckled his belt and opened the top of his jeans. She slid his pants and briefs to his knees and felt her cheek glide across the hot, hard cock flesh. Leaning slightly backward, she grabbed his meat pole with her small hands. At least four inches still throbbed nakedly at the Wyoming atmosphere despite her two-handed grip. Abby's own genitals were twitching more violently than she expected and she knew she would soon have to use one of her hands to take care of her own rapidly building needs. Abby began lapping at the sides of Mike's rigid member preparing it for an oral outing. She held onto Mike's balls while she tongue washed his cock. Finally, when both it and her lips and tongue were heavy with saliva, she let go of him and steadied her reddened oval just above the cock head. Abby lifted her gaze to catch Mike's as he stared down at her. Their eyes locked as, slowly, she moved her mouth down the shaft. In one of those quirks of human diversity, Abby's oral cavity was significantly more capacious than its genital counterpart. This meant she could (and did) bounce up and down on smaller hung guys with the snugness of a minister's wife. For bigger boys like Mike, Abby often resorted to oral accommodations unless she was feeling exceptionally horny and raunchy in which case, the back door would be open. In awe, Mike saw eight-ninths of his unit slide luxuriously past Abby's lips. Her hot wet tongue sent him into fits as she scraped her teeth gently along the base of his cock. Mike stood no more chance of holding off his orgasm than Crocket at the Alamo as the experienced ranch owner sought, hungrily, to suck it from him. Her hands had dropped under her skirt as soon as her practiced lips encircled his cock head. Abby knew Mike's inexperience would cause him to unload quickly and she feverishly clawed at her pussy to secure her own release. The hotness of fellating the big cocked teen led her to climax much more quickly than she was accustomed and she actually began coming before he did. Mike wasn't far behind, however, and he gushed his appreciation directly into Abby's throat. For ninety gooey seconds the older wife and youthful ranch hand coupled in her kitchen twitching, connected only at her mouth and his cock. Both were breathing heavily when Abby finally pulled her lips off his dick. Mike fumbled to do up his jeans while Abby, her eyes closed, leaned against the table savoring the cum she had yet to swallow. "Fuck that was good!" she said breaking their sexual silence. "But you best get goin' darlin'. Molly needs you and there will be more time later." "Thanks," was all Mike could think of as he headed out the door. He saw Amanda leaning against the corral fence as he stepped from the house. She didn't move and she didn't look away as he approached to get the Appaloosa. As he led the animal to the trailer, she walked close enough to him that their arms grazed against each other. "How was Abby?" she asked as Mike closed the horse inside. "Oh, she was really nice," he answered, wondering if Amanda meant what it sounded like she meant. "I'll bet she was," Amanda mocked. "You got lipstick on your jeans." Mike's head jerked down at whiplash inducing speed as Amanda guffawed. "Made you look," she chuckled as Mike angrily got into the truck and spun up dust and gravel as he pulled away. He quickly let off the gas when he realized he had the horse behind him. As he drove the quiet roads of western Wyoming toward his summer home, Mike contemplated the enormous reversal of fortune he'd enjoyed with the fairer sex over the past five weeks. He'd left high school an awkward, gangly doofus who'd never had a date much less kissed a girl -- no need discussing other bases when he'd never gotten to first. Now, he'd gone from mind-blowing mind sex with a pretty stewardess to sweet blowjobs and intercourse with an aunt who looked like she could be nominated for an Oscar to an unbelievable hummer from a bigger-breasted, larger-mouthed mini Dolly Parton. Oh yeah, and Abby-Dolly or Dolly-Abby or whoever she was had the cutest summer helper with the dirtiest mind who just might want to hook up with him. Meanwhile, back home, poor Jim, his previously presumed "lucky" chum from high school, was stuck stepping around bikini-clad bodies removing debris from swimming pools while depositing pre-ejaculate into his shorts. Mike got back to the ranch just in time to prepare supper. He'd only had half a can of Pepsi since breakfast and he was ravenous. Once at the table, Molly began asking about his trip. Once the perfunctory questions were out of the way, Molly got down to the interesting stuff. "That Abby's a trip, isn't she?" she asked him. "She's something else," her nephew agreed. "Who do you think she looks like?" "Dolly Parton," Mike answered without hesitation. "Exactly!" Molly nearly shouted. "Everybody says that but she doesn't see it. Better not call her that though, it tends to piss her off." "She said she's married..." "Brian. He's off somewhere screwing around. This is about the fourth time he's done that." "She takes him back?" "He's a good guy basically. In case you haven't noticed, sweet guys are a little scarce out here. He keeps her happy when he's around. Bet she was happy to see you, though." Did Molly know? Ever since he left Abby's place, Mike had been feeling funny about being "unfaithful" to his aunt. At his level of arrested social development, Mike even imagined marrying Molly at times. "You wouldn't be mad if we did something?" asked Mike disbelievingly. "Why would I..." Molly began then realized the depths of her nephew's innocence. Mike must think if a woman has sex with a man, they're a couple. "Look Mike," she began, "I loved your uncle dearly, but I wasn't all that pure. Neither was he. It gets lonely out here, especially in winter. A couple alone can be almost as lonesome as a single." "You mean..." "Yeah, Mike," Molly sighed, "faithfulness wasn't exactly a cornerstone of our relationship. It started when we found out we couldn't have children. Something snapped in me; our marriage was a cruel joke. I left for a while and sewed the oats I never did before the wedding. "Hastings was a good man. He waited patiently at the ranch for me to return. When I did, things were different. I was different. We became what I guess you could call swingers. On the road, at rodeos, livestock shows, auctions, and such, a lot of married couples turned a blind eye to a spouse sharing a little extramarital contact. "Sometimes another couple would stop by the ranch for a few weeks. Sometimes it might be just a single man. Hastings enjoyed sharing me. I think he knew I had a higher drive than he did. "Abby too?" Mike interjected. "Hastings and I swapped with Abby and Brian. It was a lot of fun. We're just scratching complementary itches, you and I, so I don't mind sharing you with her. So tell me," Abby giggled in a conspiratorial voice, "what did you and Abby get up to?" Mike described the blowjob being careful not to praise Abby's oral skills too highly. "Don't worry kid," his aunt soothed, "Hastings always said Abby gave the best head. I'm not offended. While we're on the subject, someone is coming over to discuss business this weekend. A male someone. He's Bill Dennis the guy we board horses for. He'll be staying in my room." "Sure," said Mike a little too eagerly. He was still coming to terms with not being boyfriend and girlfriend with his aunt but he wanted her to know he understood their relationship. "Abby said you could stay over with her if you wanted. What did you think of Amanda? She's cute isn't she? I guess you wouldn't mind talking with someone your age for a while." "Sure," Mike said again. He needed time to think. So much had suddenly changed. The remainder of the week played out as usual. Morning BJs and a fantastic Wednesday night fuck. It would be their last until after Bill left. At noon on Friday, a distinguished, just-starting-to-gray gentleman arrived. Molly introduced Bill. It was obvious to Mike that his aunt was harboring a crush on the new guest. She clung to his arm and stayed upstairs unpacking for him while Bill shared a beer with Mike in the kitchen. He really is nice, Mike thought as they chatted. Bill was a small businessman from the Denver suburbs looking to make some changes in his life. He asked Mike how he liked ranch life and told him some funny stories about the year he'd spent as a grossly untalented bull rider on the rodeo circuit. Mike had tears in his eyes when Molly descended the stairs. "Just telling Mike about the time that bull "pants-ed" me up in Fargo," Bill explained. Molly laughed out loud. The image of that bull strutting around the arena with Bill's levis on his horns while Bill scrambled up the fence in his undies never failed to get a big laugh wherever he told it. "Abby's, eh?" Bill said when told Mike would be staying elsewhere for the weekend. "Just remember to count your body parts before you head back." Mike's second arrival at the Campbell ranch was treated with much more fanfare by the mistress of the house. Abby hopped up on the pickup's running board as soon as the truck stopped. She poked her head through the window so quickly she knocked her Stetson to the ground. She gave Mike a big, wet kiss. Leading him inside immediately, she opened a couple of bottles of beer, taking a big swig from one while handing the other out to Mike. When Mike sat on a kitchen chair, Abby hopped up onto the table and scooted her way over in front of him. Her denim mini-skirt scarcely covered her blue satin thong as her bare legs dangled on either side of Mike's knees. Her tank top, worn braless, was stretched hideously beyond recognition. Mike's eyes bounced around their sockets like they belonged in some hypersonic pinball machine. "Molly said you liked that thing I did with my mouth last time," Abby told him like she didn't know the technical term for her best sexual skill. She rubbed her hands up and down her legs inviting the teen to feel them. More experienced men would eagerly accept her invitation but not Mike. His shyness excited her. She knew how near virginal he was and she was more than prepared to lead. "I want you to know that anytime you need a blowjob this weekend, just say the word. I'll be more than happy to suck you off. Did Molly tell you I really enjoyed it too?" Mike shook his head. He was actually a little scared of Abby. "I loved it. You have a beautiful, big cock. Your cum was so fresh and sweet, mmmm. I'm wet just thinking about it. Let me do it now. Please..." Lucky at Summer Ch. 03 Molly hopped off the table onto Mike's lap before letting herself slide down to her knees before him. There was no stopping her, not that Mike wanted to. He sat back and let her pleasure him, moving only to lift his hips so she could slide his jeans down. Abby's second blowjob was even better than her first as she had more time to tease and play with him. In the end, Mike screamed loudly as he pistoned his discharging cock in and out of Abby's milking throat. Later, as his hostess lay masturbating (although she'd told him she was going for a nap) in her room, Mike walked in the yard behind the house. Amanda was coming out of one of the barns just as he peeked in. "Hi," he said, a bit startled. "Hi back," she answered. Amanda apologized for the ribbing she'd given him last time. She could tell by the way he looked at her that Mike was developing a crush on her. She also knew he didn't have a clue that she had the same feeling. Suddenly, she felt as diffident as he. They began to talk like they expected a platonic relationship. Their banter was classic shy teen, "my fourth summer... first time out west... just graduated... me too... not sure, college I guess... same here." "I'm staying the weekend," Mike told her. "With Abby?" Amanda asked. "I guess so, in her house. I didn't really ask. Where do you stay?" Amanda led Mike through a stand of fir trees to a tiny cabin about a quarter of a mile away. There were other similar nearby. "These used to be tourist cabins when Abby ran the dude ranch. Now, only a couple of long timers still visit. I make sure they have everything they need. Do you want to see inside?" "Sure," Mike answered unaware it was becoming his most used one word sentence. Inside, Mike saw the two single beds first. In another corner, a six-foot couch, matching chair, and coffee table faced a fireplace. The table contained a stack of what appeared to be Cosmopolitan magazines with bold-faced type alerting readers to important content like, "Seven Sexual Surprises Your Man Merits Most." Most of the other side was a kitchenette including a table at which more than two would have trouble eating. There were two doors. Mike guessed one led to a bathroom and the other a closet. "Nice," he said like he was considering a similar living arrangement himself. "Was I too mean to you the other day? Do you hate me?" Amanda asked sitting on one of the kitchen chairs. "I thought you were funny. Probably would have been a bit more hilarious if somebody else had been the target, though." "I'm sorry," she said looking into his eyes. She was flirting on purpose. Guys never let a girl apologize for making fun of them. Too macho to have hurt feelings. "No, don't say that," Mike said on cue. "Well, you can tease me if you want. I deserve it. Go ahead, make fun of my eyes. All the guys do." For the first time Mike realized Amanda had one green eye and one blue one. At that moment, they were the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. "That's weird," he said. "Weird in a good way, I mean. I can't believe how pretty they are." "They're not pretty!" said Amanda coming awfully close to over playing her hand. "Am I as pretty as the girls at your school?" If you want a compliment, ask for it, her daddy had once told her. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen," Mike answered, mostly truthfully. His Aunt Molly was better looking but only by a tad. Of course she was a woman, not a girl. Mike's stomach growled loudly enough for both to hear. "Should I make us something to eat?" Amanda asked sarcastically. "Shit!" exclaimed Mike looking at his watch. "I'd better get back. Abby doesn't know where I am." Amanda stood with him. "Can you come back later?" she asked. "I'm not sure," replied Mike honestly. "After she's asleep?" Amanda offered hopefully. "I'll try." "There you are," chirped Abby cheerfully as Mike let himself in the back door [I would add "for the first time that day" but that would be getting ahead of myself now wouldn't it? --Author]. "I made us some dinner," she continued mashing her tits against her teenaged guest. She brought a hand to his crotch, cupping his genitals. "And I see you brought dessert." Although Abby's slutty behavior brought a quick erection, Mike was still thinking of the beauty in the cabin he just left. "I was talking to that girl Amanda. She seems very nice." "Nicest girl ever come to work here. Been here four, five summers now. The tenderfoots just love her. Pretty little thing too, ain't she. Guess I'm not the one to be calling anyone 'little' am I?" Abby chuckled. After eating, Abby and Mike settled on the sofa with a bottle of merlot. Abby wasn't interested in talking about much unless the topic were sex. There, she wasn't shy. In that way, she more like a man. Sex, for her, was one-dimensional, just something physical. "How'd you like them two blowjobs I give ya?" "God they were great! I never felt anything so good." "You got a real nice cock, Mike. Something that's in short supply around here at the moment. I want you to know you're welcome to come around here anytime." As she spoke, Abby ran her hands over Mike's body, not unlike she'd do if she were purchasing a horse -- excepting that she wouldn't stroke the animal's genitals. Mike was teenager hard and his legs were splayed permitting the older woman unfettered access. His eyes are on Abby's massive mammaries and it was all he could do keep himself from lunging for them. He was so new to all this, he had no idea what constituted proper and improper behavior. The last thing he wanted to do was make the wrong move and have everything disappear like it was all some erotic dream. "Not so much of a titty man, are ya Mike?" Abby asked. She saw him staring and realized it was up to her to get things rolling. "Excuse me?" "It's just that most men start grabbing at these before 'Hello,'" Abby said shaking her upper torso setting her boobs to rolling like a couple of bowling balls in a spandex bag on choppy seas. For those women who subscribe to the big hands equal big penis criteria for date selection, Mike had hands that would attract you from across the room. His middle fingers were easily six inches long. Yet his hands were not match for Abby's breasts. Both could not encircle even one. Eagerly, Abby pulled her top over her head. Discarded on the floor, even a stranger could see a well-endowed female had worn it. Mike was delighted. He played with Abby's tits as his aunt had taught him: cupping and lifting; stroking softly; teasing the nipples with his fingertips. As bumps of arousal appeared on the huge areolas, he took the hardening nipple between his thumb and finger. Squeezing lightly, he felt the pulsing blood that made them swell. As he moved forward, preparing to suckle, Abby placed her fingers over his and pinched down hard. His fingers were forced to tighten, flattening the nipples. With her fingers clamping his to her teats like a pair of vice grips, she pulled his hands outward distending the nipple and causing the areola to form flat pink cones in front of the breast. "They're too big, Mike," she told him. "Gentle feeling does nothing for me. You have to be rough with them. It makes me so hot when they are pinched hard or bitten." Abby pulled Mike's head to her chest where he began an eager sucking. His tongue and mouth were everywhere, licking, suctioning, slobbering, alternating back and forth. Abby's pussy began a slow smolder. Grabbing a tit with both hands, Mike spread his fingers covering as much of the surface as he could. His thumbs and index fingers were closest to the center and he squeezed them together forcing the areola and nipple to poke out. He began a focused sucking on the tit cores and nerve centers. Abby began to moan as Mike suckled harder. Then she felt his teeth lightly scraping her. Her pussy was dripping wet and getting wetter. She held his head in her hands as her passion mounted. "That's it Mike, bite it. Take it in you teeth. Oh, damn, that feels nice," she said when she felt the strong nibbling. She began humping her pussy at the air, wishing there were a resistance somewhere she could rub against. Mike was squeezing hard now with both his fingers and his teeth. Abby felt the juices flooding into her panties like someone had opened sluice gates. She clamped her arms around Mike's neck mashing his face to her breast in some sort of Sicilian death grip as a brief shudder passed through her. When she'd recovered, Abby pushed Mike back into an upright position suitable for airplane landings. Titty playtime was over. She began a persistent rubbing of his clothed cock. It was hard all right. It was like a rock. "Let's go upstairs." Abby took Mike's hand and led him to her bedroom. Inside, she pulled off her skirt and panties. Mike stripped as well, pants first. She was naked first and helped him finish disrobing, if, that is, you call stroking then sucking a man's cock while he removes his shirt helping him disrobe. "God I love your big cock," she told him. "I'll do anything you want. Ready to fuck me?" Mike was more than ready. Even though she was already wetter than the Maid of the Mist cruising the falls at Niagara, Abby opened the drawer to her nightstand and pulled out a large plastic bottle of liquid KY jelly. She knew she needed all the assistance she could get with this enormous young stud. "We're gonna be workin' in some pretty tight tolerances, Mike. Better lube you up." Abby opened the cap and squeezed the bottle with one hand while spreading the liquid over Mike's dick with the other. It felt so good Mike would have happily settled for a slippery hand job but Abby lay back on the bed pulling Mike with her. Unlike the earlier tit tousle, Abby begged Mike to be gentle entering her. When he had poked just the head in, Abby dug her fingernails into his side causing him to pause while she adjusted to his volume. "Shit that's thick," she gasped taking short, shallow breaths. When she finally relaxed, Mike eased in another couple of inches then repeated the same pause. "OK, now slide it out slow," Abby instructed, "so just the head is in." Mike complied. "Now, stay just like that," she told him when he'd withdrawn. Mike remained stock still, hovering above her on the bed as she began pushing her cunt back onto his dick. When she stuffed the first four inches into herself again, she pulled back. Growing accustomed to his girth, she began fucking herself on him, but she wouldn't go more than four inches deep. Mike was having trouble holding his hips still as Abby's hot pussy sucked him toward climax. As his orgasm approached, Mike could no longer restrain himself. He began counter thrusting. In his eagerness, he pushed deeper painfully slamming into Abby's uterus. He was too far gone to notice Abby wasn't matching his thrusts and he sped on alone. As Mike lay on his back coming down from the heights of a very tight pussy fuck, Abby languidly played with the cum oozing along her labia. She wasn't angry. Far from it. She knew Mike's big cock had laid the foundations for a really colossal climax as soon as he recovered his erection. She was planning their next coupling as Mike's breathing steadied. Reaching into the nightstand drawer, she retrieved her favorite vibrator. It was small but powerful. It slid easily into her soaking vagina where it stayed, in the off position, while she turned her attention back to Mike. Abby began caressing his smooth, almost hairless chest while she nibbled his ear. An older man might have pushed her away but the teen's appreciative grunt urged her hand lower. Where her hand went, her mouth soon followed. It was only five minutes since he'd scorched her shallow snatch with burning seminal embers but his penile poker had returned. Abby savored the salty stew that covered his cock as she urged his ardor along. His hands returned to her tits as his need heightened. Abby rose up rubbing her breasts in his face then kissing his mouth in a heated super saturation. Mike was completely ready again. Abby poured another coat of KY on him, enjoying the opportunity it afforded her to stroke his horse cock. His prick was too fat for her encircle completely and her thumb gapped an inch away from her fingers. "You're too big for my pussy," she told him. "I want you in my ass." Mike winced as his cock pulsed at the thought of something so kinky he thought he'd never get a girl to agree to it. Now this hot woman was asking for it. Abby rolled onto her tummy then raised her ass up. She spread her knees so Mike could get behind her then reached back for his cock. She placed the head against her sphincter. "Go easy, baby," she instructed him. She held her hand in place as Mike began a slow forward push. He slid easily inward, four inches, five, six. Abby tightened her fingers signaling him to withdraw. Backing out until just the head remained, Mike felt Abby loosen her grip. Mike pushed in again, slightly deeper this time. On the fifth push, Abby pulled her hand away and he bottomed out. It was the first time he'd had his cock completely inside a female. Abby had come closest with her mouth but he was now buried to the hilt and it felt magnificent. "Oh fuck, that hurts so good," Abby moaned softly into her pillow. "Shit, Mike, I'm so fucking full. Now fuck me but go nice and slow." Mike pulled himself out, almost, then slowly buried his cock again. He set up a slow, steady, seven inch stroke. Abby began a long wail and reached for her pussy. Grabbing the vibrator, she set up a matching counter rhythm. With her free hand, she pulled at a nipple. The genital nerves of her pussy, tits, and ass began to brawl with one another slamming her building orgasm around like a puck at a hockey rink. Mike, too, was edging closer to another climax and began picking up the pace. When Abby flicked on her treasured toy, all hell broke loose. Mike was bucked around like a rider on the back of a Brahma bull shooting the rapids of the Colorado River at the height of the snow melt. He was flung this way and that as Abby thrashed out her lust. Burying his cock, he grabbed her hips to assure a complete and uninterrupted connection as his nuts drained into her rectum. Abby slowed to mild undulations, drilling the vibrating plastic tube in and out of her vagina pinched tight by the fullness in her ass. Finally spent, she collapsed, letting a softening Mike slip from her anus. He rolled onto his side to catch his breath. Next to him he felt the hot, naked body of an incredible woman. Abby switched off her inanimate companion but didn't remove it as she enjoyed the lovely after-vibes of her stupendous orgasm. Her sleep came quickly. Twice sated, Mike now managed to think of things other than sex. Well, sort of, anyway. Thoughts of Amanda entered his mind and wouldn't leave, not that he wanted them to. Abby was sleeping deeply and Mike got up and dressed. He found the flashlight in the pickup's glove compartment. Thankfully, the batteries weren't dead. He made his way along the path Amanda had shown him earlier until he was at the door of her cabin. There was a light on inside and he knocked softly. Pretty Amanda opened the door in an oversized tee shirt that came to mid thigh. To Mike, it looked as if she wore nothing beneath. "Mmmm, I'm so glad you came back," she purred when she saw his face. "Do you want a beer or something?" "Sure," said Mike, not bothering to ask how an eighteen year old happened to have alcohol in her fridge. Mike sat in the chair. Amanda handed him an open bottle of Coors Light and sat on the couch with one of her own. She tucked her feet under in yoga fashion. The bottom of the shirt came dangerously close to failing one of a garment's primary objectives: The concealment of the wearer's naughty bits. Mike felt awkward as he tried to hold a conversation with this funny-pretty-raunchy-nice girl for whom he was having increasingly stronger feelings. Non-sexual feelings, despite the fact that his gaze continually returned to those lovely, naked legs. He had no way of knowing that Amanda was having similar thoughts about him. Ever since he'd brought that stallion over she'd been debating herself over her actions. Should she have been less of a wise-ass? Should she have been demure? At the same time, she knew guys like girls that would joke with them and not be stuck up, girls that could be a little raunchy and not all fragile and pure. Plus, she liked being herself and didn't want a guy she'd have to play a role to get. She didn't want her second guessing to make her nervous, but it did, and she was. Amanda was aware of Mike's itinerant eyes and smiled to herself at their frequent visits to her thighs. She was far closer to a slut than a virgin and the truth was she wanted Mike. She'd practiced sitting in that position, in that shirt for more than a half hour that afternoon. She even placed a mirror where Mike sat to assure herself that she wasn't showing too much. She wanted to paint a picture that whispered I might not shouted FUCK ME!! His recent successes with older women did little to embolden Mike with this girl his own age. His high school experiences, or rather the lack thereof, were still fresh in his mind. Teenaged females weren't interested in him. If anything were going to happen, Amanda would have to be the initiator. "Why don't you sit over here?" Amanda asked when Mike finished the beer. "Can I use your bathroom first?" he asked at the risk of Amanda thinking he had a one-beer bladder. She pointed to one of the doors. In truth, Mike was worried about the recent rump wrangle he'd had with Abby and wanted to clean up lest an unpleasant un-freshness curtail a promising beginning. He opened his denims and scrubbed with Amanda's hand soap. Back on the couch, when Mike turned to face Amanda, she moved her face close to his and closed her eyes. Even someone as awkward as Mike recognized an invitation as blatant as the one she offered. Mike kissed her softly, parting his lips. He held his tongue next to his lips not wishing to invade Amanda's mouth unless invited, yet eager detect hers should she offer it. Amanda met his tongue with hers and clutched passionately at Mike's head. It was clear she was willing to venture further. Mike moved his hand to her breast and massaged it lightly through her tee shirt. Amanda moaned appreciatively. "Oh Mike," she breathed, "I've wanted to kiss you all day. I wanted to march into Abby's house and drag you out." Emboldened by Amanda's approval of his intimate fondling, Mike dropped his hand to her thigh. While his fingers played a game of discovery in her neatly trimmed genital shrubbery, she was unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans. "Shit you're big," an astonished Amanda gasped when her hand uncovered the length of Mike's Levi's lizard. She was thrilled as she stroked Mike's big dick. Even the ranch hands in their thirties had nothing that compared in any way to Mike. And none had come close to satisfying her the way a fat cucumber could. Mike was at least as big as the veggie probes she enjoyed. It's so beautiful, Amanda thought looking at the hard cock dwarfing her fist. She wanted to kiss it, needed to kiss it. As her head drifted lower, she was momentarily distracted by a scent of lavender that was strangely familiar. Olfactory side trips disappeared the moment her lips touched cock flesh. Amanda cupped Mike's balls as she ran lips and tongue up and down his dick. Mike moaned involuntarily and reached for the bottom of her tee shirt and began tugging it off. Reluctantly, she let go of the prized penis as the shirt was pulled over her head. Mike pulled her face back to his and kissed her while playing with her breasts. Lucky at Summer Ch. 03 "Take off your clothes," Amanda requested in a dusky voice. She got off the couch and lay on one of the beds while Mike stripped. She parted her legs when he joined her letting him slip between them. He moved to enter her and she placed her calves on his hips. Mike eased his cock head into Amanda's slippery slit. "Are you taking something?" "I'm on the pill," she whispered softly into his ear, happy he had asked. "Just fuck me with that big cock of yours. Mike began stroking and her pussy seemed to get wetter and wetter. In short order, he found himself balls deep. "Oh god," Mike said, "your pussy feels so nice. "Oh shit!" exclaimed Amanda feeling her cunt split in two. "You've got the biggest dick I've ever had. You make me feel so good." Mike began stroking like Molly had taught him: Three shallow then one deep. He kept a steady upward pressure with his hard rod causing a drag on Amanda's clit with every thrust and withdrawal. His movements enflamed Amanda and her words enflamed him. "That's it Mike. Yes! Yes, that's so good. Yeah, fuck me with your big cock. Fuck it, Mike! Oh baby, you're going to make me come! That's IT! THAT'S IT!! THAT'S FUCKING IT!!! I'M CUMMING, OH GOD, OH FUCK ME!!" Amanda's slutty mouth pulled Mike along to orgasm with her. He grunted out his climax wordlessly, preferring to hear Amanda shout the dirtiest words uncontrollably. The young lovers lay side by side on their backs recovering. Amanda moved first, propping her head up with one hand and stroking Mike's chest with the other. With her hand and her mouth, she easily coaxed a second hard on from Mike. Climbing on top, she played cowgirl and rode him to a second orgasm for both of them before the young couple fell into a deep sleep. From the mind mists of deep sleep, Mike heard a knocking sound. He was aware of Amanda stirring next to him. He opened his eyes and watched as she pulled the shirt she'd worn last night over her nakedness. He was faced away from the door so he didn't see her open it. But he did hear Abby's voice. "Is Mike here?" Lucky at Summer Ch. 04 Bill Dennis stayed longer at Molly's than expected, not leaving until late Thursday afternoon. Mike missed his morning BJs; so did his aunt. By the time Friday morning rolled around, Molly virtually pounced on her nephew's prick when she entered his room to awaken him. "Mmmm," murmured Mike as a soft hand stroking his cock roused him in more ways than one. "I've missed this in the morning." "Mmmm," cooed Molly in reply as she stroked the rapidly hardening shaft between Mike's legs. "Not as much as I have," she said poking the cock head against the cotton bedding then bending so she could kiss it. She felt her liquid center begin to flow. Sweetly, Molly sucked Mike to an exploding climax but she refused to release his teenaged tumescence from its oral incarceration afterward no how much he squirmed. Not until she succeeded in swallowing a second semen sampler and needed to change her soaked-through-at-the-crotch jeans did she allow her nephew to tuck his slick dick away for the day. After a sweet Saturday sunrise sucking, Molly seemed to act a little strange to Mike. Strange meaning exaggerated movements of her hips when she walked. Strange in the way she kept hugging him from behind, pressing her tits into his back and grinding her crotch against his ass. To a more experienced eye, Molly was behaving like someone with a serious itch that needed scratching. Even a neophyte like Mike sensed Saturday night might be extra special in a summer of special nights. After dinner, the kindred couple settled on the couch. Molly had her leg over Mike's and nibbled his ear lobe as she stroked his chest. She whispered that she had been thinking naughty thoughts all day. "Like what?" Mike asked. "It would probably be better if I show you rather than try to describe it. Do you mind?" Molly asked her nephew even though she knew the answer. Mike shook his head and she walked to the closet and removed two objects from the shelf. Returning, Mike stared as Molly laid a videotape and a leather something next to it on the coffee table. She slipped the tape into the VCR and pressed play. The tape began with Mike's aunt and an attractive black man about her age. She was dressed in a way he'd never seen before. She wore a tight red dress with a very short skirt and shiny black shoes with dangerously high heels. Her hair was teased and her makeup heavy, especially her lips. There was no other word for it, his aunt looked like a slut. Molly danced seductively while the man watched. She rubbed her hands along her body while rotating her hips slowly. "Why Mrs. MacGregor," the man said in mock surprise, "I do believe you've forgotten your underwear." The filmy material of the dress was laminated so tightly to her curves it was, for all intents and purposes, bare skin. Mike was sure the man was right. Surely those firm buds the guy and Mike were staring at were his aunt's own bra-free nipples. "Really?" Molly responded to her co-star while continuing her heated air intercourse. Sliding a hand down her thigh, she hooked a finger under the hem of the skirt, dragging it just high enough for a small patch of black satin to become visible at her crotch. Turning slowly until that fabulous ass of hers faced the man, Molly's hand continued behind her and up. Up until she bared that perfect set of buttocks framed at the top by the black material of the thong she wore. "I hope you're not going to continue to make additional, unwarranted, and silly assumptions about what I might or might not wear, do, or enjoy tonight. That might ruin half the fun." Aunt Molly smiled seductively at a drooling, very willing, black partner. The man began kissing Molly and running his hands along her body, cupping her breasts and ass. Molly's excited moans could be heard clearly and Mike had his accustomed huge hard on. "Let me get us another beer," Molly told Mike leaving for the kitchen. "This part is a bit boring." Her nephew disagreed. When she returned, Mike's jaw dropped as he saw his aunt in the same slinky red dress she was wearing on screen. Except that, back in the movie, the dress was now gone and the man was sliding the thong down Molly's legs. When the man was done removing an item that could scarcely be called clothing, on-screen Molly turned seductively, presenting her luscious ass to her dark, digital paramour. He began to massage her globular gluts and she slid her hands down her legs until she was clutching her ankles. The man rubbed his face against Mike's aunt's ass briefly before exposing his teeth and nibbling on her flesh. Gentle nips became more forceful bites as he sucked in her buttock flesh and clamped his jaws. The camera showed the red blush of oxygenated hemoglobin as it rushed to the assaulted area. Suddenly, Molly was pulled roughly over the man's lap and he began spanking her. "I don't think we need to go through the entire tape, do we?" Molly asked her nephew sweetly. She swung her leg over her nephew's midsection and settled her pussy down on his jeans covered hard-on and began a gentle fucking motion. Grabbing the remote, she twisted back toward the TV, hitting the off button before dropping the electronic device to the couch cushion. Molly brought her mouth to Mike's and sucked his tongue into it. "Auntie's been naughty," Molly breathed into her nephew's ear, licking his lobe. "Naughty with Mr. Dennis," she told Mike while continuing to slide her crotch against his. Briefly, naïve Mike thought the confession was genuine. He opened his mouth to protest, to assuage his aunt's conscience, to tell Molly he'd done things too, but Molly put her finger to his lips. "Do you think a man must sometimes spank a woman who has been naughty, Mike?" Now, even Mike caught on and the game was afoot. He grabbed Molly's arm lightly and tried to move her from straddling his lap. She easily jerked her limb free. "What do you think you're doing, Mike?" she asked teasingly. "You know perfectly well that I'm going to give you a red bottom." Mike's talk was turning his aunt on tremendously, but she wanted more than just a spanking. That was just an outward symbol of what she desired. She wanted to be possessed. She wanted to be completely under the control of a man. Living on the ranch as she did, with all the rough males, Molly had learned to be assertive or be used. She was more than capable of standing up for herself. Her beauty and her moxie intimated men but Molly enjoyed vivid fantasies of being used, of being made a play toy. Trouble was, she defended against "once used always used" so fiercely even the most aggressive men backed down. All but that black. Theirs was the sex she couldn't acknowledge, not even to herself. He was the best sex of her life. She wanted Mike to be the second to bend her to his will completely. But she didn't want Mike to play a role. She wanted him to mean it. That was the only way it would work, the only way she could get maximum enjoyment. "Don't read too much into that video, Mike. That was something that happened one time. I never even told Hastings about that guy. I met him once, that's it. I just showed it to you to turn you on a little, let you see your aunt acting tiny bit kinky." Molly was lying of course. She did want Mike to read into what he saw. After all, she couldn't ask Mike to take charge. That would be her taking charge, not him. Mike would have to take what he wanted or it would be like all the others to Molly. Mike was momentarily confused. He certainly didn't want to do something that would offend his aunt. On the other hand, what he'd seen on screen had been a tremendous turn on. Like most everyone else, Mike had the occasional rape fantasy. And, like most decent men, his imagined assaults only started out that way. The woman was reluctant, not opposed to sex with him. By the time he entered her, she was at least as eager as her "rapist." It was the leather switch that Molly had placed on the table along with the videotape that convinced Mike to continue the wild thoughts rampaging through his mind. He was going to spank his aunt's fabulous posterior, of that, he was sure. The couple struggled briefly with Mike trying to take charge and Molly offering more than token resistance. Her actions forced him to be forceful and he was. He wouldn't back down to her protestations. Finally, Mike clamped both of her wrists in his left hand. Molly felt the strength in his grip and the discomfort it caused her. She was being taken with or without her consent and being unable to resist lubricated her labia like she hadn't experienced since the night of the videotaping more than four years ago. She sensed the beginnings of the blockbuster orgasm that awaited her down this erotic path. Molly wriggled and kicked as Mike held her wrists with one hand. She struggled in earnest. Mike secured her waist with his other hand and he lifted her free of his crotch and laid her across his lap. She was completely in his control and her writhing and thrashing provided her subtle, pleasurable clitoral friction. "Stop that or your spanking will be that much worse," Mike warned his aunt as Molly continued to squirm. Molly began to wonder if she'd cream on the spot when she heard her nephew's demand and felt her skirt being dragged up her legs and over her ass. Her arms were pinned over her head and Mike had his other hand on Molly's upper thigh holding her securely in position. The first swat jolted both nephew and aunt. Molly's dense ass cheek jiggled like a firm jell-o mold. She sucked in a breath as a tingle of pain fired an electrical charge at her nipples and clit. Mike saw the reddened outline of his palm and fingers clearly against the alabaster posterior. "Mike, you don't have to do this. Really. Haven't I given you everything you've wanted?" Molly asked, changing tactics from physical resistance to psychological pressure. Her beseeching further tested her nephew's resolve. 'Have you?" Mike asked. Both knew there was one pleasure she'd withheld. Mike slapped her other cheek and admired the way his hand marked her. "I've sucked your cock. I've let you fuck me as many times as I could without hurting myself. Your cock is so big you have to be careful with some women. But I've never denied you a blowjob. Never. I love sucking you off. You know that." Mike continued swatting Molly as she spoke causing her voice to change modulations. Mike's aunt wanted to continue her argument but she had to bite her lip. Her nipples had hardened like reinforced concrete and she wished she could pinch them. Before she could articulate another word, however, Mike spoke. "There's something you haven't mentioned," he reminded her. "You're just too big for that Mike. It's not even a possibility. I'm sorry I can't take you that way. Truly I am. Please don't be angry with me for something I cannot do." "What about him?" Mike asked jealously. "The guy on the tape. He had you that way, didn't he?" Mike spanked his aunt harder than he dared. Her moan was deep and guttural. It told Mike he should continue. Would Mike do it? Molly wondered. Would he take her the way the black man had? Take her like it was something he was owed, like it was his right to have her that way? She sensed he would. Something deep inside her womanhood broke open. It was like a solid mass had suddenly reached its melting point all at once. A flood of slick, viscous liquid poured out of her pussy and onto Mike's thighs, quickly soaking through the blue cloth. As the swats multiplied, the handprints vanished into a background of deep pink. Mike paused his punishing pleasure to admire Molly's now gorgeously rosy ass. Slowly, he trailed his hand over her buttocks and upper thighs. Molly shivered involuntarily as his hand felt the radiant heat of her buttocks like she'd lain naked in the burning sun. Dipping his head low, Mike grazed his lips against Molly's reddened flesh. It felt so wonderful. Just the tracings of his parted lips against her beautiful, sexy derriere made Molly shiver. Goose bumps spread across her ass flesh, her inner thighs, her upper arms, and the back of her neck. Mike picked up the riding crop and caressed his aunt's redness with the stiff leather. "You gave him your ass but you won't give it to me," Mike said, his voice almost threatening. He had no idea why, but what he was doing was having a tremendously exciting affect on his aunt. He wanted to see just how far he could go, how far she would go. "He was the only one. I swear. I still don't know how it happened. But he was nowhere near your size baby. Somehow, something happened when he hit me with that fucking riding crop." Mike cut his aunt short. The first smack left a deep crimson welt that stood out against the rosy flesh much like the pink hand print on white flesh had earlier. Her nipple nerves zinged like stone hitting taut wire. Her pussy gaped open, and her brown rosette pulsed in an out. Moisture gushed from her like she was an open fire hydrant. The stinging hurt incredibly but she was determined not to cry out. Her struggling increased. Ripping herself free at last, Molly slumped to the floor then struggled to push herself up onto her knees. She kept her forehead against the carpet so there would be no ambiguity about what she desired. "NOW MIKE!!" Molly screamed. "FUCK IT NOW!!" Mike moved with the quick grace of a cat. He was pulling his zipper down as he knelt behind his aunt. His big cock grazed her slick folds as he maneuvered his cockhead to her hot, throbbing sphincter. Yanking her thong to the side, Mike rammed his phallus forward. Molly screamed out but pushed back against him. Her juices were slopping everywhere. Even her rectal passage was lubricated. Molly and her nephew rutted in opposing thrusts as she became impaled on the big cock. She knew that she had been coming for some time but couldn't concentrate on the sensation as each new movement brought about a heightened pleasure. By the time Mike's balls slammed against Molly's perineum, her pain was entirely gone. All that was left was the seemingly unendurable ecstasy of having every gratification nerve in her body stimulated at the same time. She could feel her clitoral hood pulled and stretched by the fullness of her insides. Every time Mike drove his dick head through her rectal love loop, her labia were stretched and twisted as in some erotic taffy pull. "That's it you slut!" Mike screamed as he held still letting his aunt use his love log to ass fuck herself. Intuitively, he understood this base act required base language. Molly's climax continued to escalate and the huge cock in her ass felt better than any sex act ever. When Mike stopped thrusting, forcing her to supply all the motion for her pleasure herself, she went over the top and stayed over the top. Her climax scaled Pikes Peak, then Mt. McKinley, then Aconcagua, K2, and even Everest itself. Molly screamed herself hoarse as she shimmied her ass up and down Mike's cock like an Alpine tunnel swallowing a ten-mile train. Mike began screaming with her. "Yes you slutty cunt!! Fuck it!! Fuck it out of me! FUCK MY CUM OUT OF ME WITH YOUR HOT SLUT ASS!!!! OH YEAH, THERE IT IS!! HERE COMES MY CUM!!!" Molly felt her nephew spasm deep in her ass. His jism added slipperiness to her already over oiled rectum and she began to coast down a lovely, sensuous, eternal slip'n'slide until Mike's softening penis slipped stickily outside her sphincteral barrier. Molly was asleep before Mike's cock head entirely cleared her anus. He slipped out of his wet jeans before collecting her up into his arms and climbing the stairs to deposit her gently into bed. He stripped her naked and covered her with a blanket before taking a shower and crashing onto his own bed. The next morning, Mike was already awake when Molly entered his room. His cock could pound rail spikes as he stroked himself remembering the events of the previous evening. Molly pulled the sheet aside and climbed gingerly between his legs as she settled into an adoring blowjob. She let her finger wiggle against her genitals as both rode memories of the unbelievable ass fuck to lovely morning climaxes. Through everything that was going on with his aunt and Abby, Mike still had more than enough energy, sexual and otherwise, to continue seeing Amanda. In truth, they were dating and began to become close. It became almost normal for Mike to drive the young couple fifty miles or more, one way, to see a movie or have a meal. Often, they just rode around looking at the amazing scenery. Mike drank it all in, not knowing when, if ever, he'd have a chance to see something as beautiful as the Tetons of western Wyoming again. At least he drove until Amanda began pawing his crotch, laying her head in his lap, dragging his cock out, licking his balls and fellating him. When she complained about his hairy balls, he let her shave him...all but a narrow strip above his cock base. When Molly saw it the next morning, she laughed and called it Hitler's moustache. She also spent fifteen extra minutes laving his baby smooth nut sack. Sometimes, Amanda would talk wistfully about spending the winter at Abby's, living in the cabin and going to the local community. She got Mike to thinking as well. "That would be great for you Amanda," Mike enthused feeling some envy. "What about you, Mike? Wouldn't you like to stay too?" "Sure, but I don't see how. There's no work at the ranch in the winter. Molly can't afford to pay me. I don't even know if she'd let me stay there." Mike was angling for sympathy with that last sentence. He knew fully well Molly would be more than happy to entertain his cock (and him) all through the cold winter. "I'll bet Abby would let you stay in one of the cabins," Amanda offered hopefully. In the end, their teenage dreams were always dashed on reality's rocks. What would they do for money? What would they do for transportation? Even so, they grew ever closer. "Do you think you love me, Mike?" Amanda asked out of the blue. "I'm really not sure. How can you tell? Have you ever been in love before?" "I don't know," she answered. "I think so." "Who? Chuck?" Mike blurted out impulsively. Chuck had been Amanda's prom date. Unlike Mike, Amanda kept up a busy social calendar throughout high school. Pretty, friendly, and nice, she was often double or triple booked for a weekend. Mike had learned a lot from his summer relationship. For example, just because a girl was pretty didn't mean she was stuck up. In fact, it was Amanda's niceness, her core decency that appealed to him as much as her lovely face or honey colored skin. Amanda shook her head. "Not Chuck, one of the cowboys. He wasn't like you though." 'What do you mean?" Amanda's grin was almost diabolical as she held her thumb and index finger a few inches apart. Her gesture wasn't meant to convey "Cowboy's" actual measurements so much as it was to suggest that whatever they were, he was on the small side. "Is that how you describe me?" Mike asked, grinning. Amanda shook her head. Only she didn't shake just her head. She opened her eyes as wide as blue-yolked eggs and moved her whole upper torso like some frantic four-year-old layered ludicrously in chocolate trying desperately to convince his mother that it wasn't he who emptied the family cookie jar. Continuing her preposterous pantomime, Amanda then held her hands about four feet apart like Mike might be better compared to a stallion than a mere stud. Grabbing her outstretched hands, Mike pulled Amanda to him giving her a combination hug and tickle. When she responded with the expected squirm and giggle, Mike asked himself, God, could she be any more adorable? Lucky at Summer Ch. 04 "I think I love you Mike," Amanda said when they'd settled down. Mike was pretty sure he loved her too. At the very least, he felt for Amanda something he'd ever felt before. Sometimes, when Mike cuddled with Amanda in her cabin watching the porn movies and drinking the beer the cowboys left when they visited her, he felt the pain of jealousy. Mike was fairly certain she was screwing some of them but he didn't ask about it. She told him she was happiest with him and that would have to be good enough. His own situation meant he was in no position to expect exclusivity. From their discussions, Mike knew Amanda was more experienced than he. One time he brought up the subject of other lovers but before he could pop the big question, she beat him to it. "How many girls have you been with Mike?" "Three," Mike answered, meaning Molly, Abby, and Amanda herself. "Now, what about you?" "More than that," answered Amanda giving Mike his first inkling that there were things besides her age a lady didn't tell. When Mike tried to revise his count upward by including his airline experience, Amanda wasn't buying. "Sorry, kiddo, but having some glorified airplane waitress tease you so bad you whack your carrot into the metal crapper then come in your pants ain't no notch on the ol' belt. Mike tried again, suggesting that she'd had a sizeable head start. "Maybe we should just count since the beginning of summer," he offered hopefully. "Yep, I'm sure that's it," Amanda mocked him then immediately regretted it. For the longest time Amada harbored a secret fear that the reason her mother had taken off was because she, as her Mom put it, "had a sassy mouth." Try as she might, Amanda couldn't control some of the things that came out or it. Unfortunately, she didn't know her banter was one of the things Mike liked best about her. Because she talked like a guy, he felt he could talk to her about anything. "OK," Amanda said softening, "just since June. How many?" "Three!" Mike said smiling. Amanda briefly considered lying, letting this guy she liked so much win one. Honesty was one of her tenants, however, so she told the truth. "Missed it by this much," she said grinning widely, holding her palms close together then slowly moving them a yard apart. Moving to him, Amanda grabbed Mike and hugged him as tight as she could. "There's only one number you really need to know, Mike. Of everybody, the number one guy I like being with most is you...by a thousand miles." Mike hugged her back but couldn't resist a shot of his own. "You didn't include girls." Mike earned a punch in the arm for his efforts. * * * * It was late on a Wednesday afternoon. Abby had stopped by and was sharing Mike's Hard Lemonade with Molly and Mike at the picnic table in the yard. The trio sat in silence in the shade of a massive oak. The air was warm but dry and a light, westerly breeze made the weather perfect. Molly saw it first and the others followed her line of sight. The plume of dust meant a vehicle was moving up the long, dirt driveway. Bill Dennis's brand new motor home was a beautiful forty footer. Mike was filled with an aching wanderlust as he toured the campground on wheels wishing he could just take it and drive. Anywhere. Everywhere. The foursome was quickly on the interstate, cruising. Mike was the only one who didn't know the trip was planned. Bill finally pulled off at a rest area that featured a small honky-tonk bar. The sign outside advertised "Connie & Friends -- featuring Connie Carpenter" whoever she was. The trio consisted of a drummer and keyboard player with Connie as the vocalist/guitar player. Mike thought Connie was quite good in a loud sort of way. The band mixed with the crowd during breaks letting the customers buy them drinks. Connie spent a lot of her time with the foursome. Mike drank Cokes while the others got drunk. At closing time, Bill, Molly, Abby, Mike, and now Connie piled into Bill's motor home. Mike became the bartender, that is, he got everyone including himself a beer. It quickly became obvious why Connie had joined them. She was kin. "Connie's your cousin," Molly told him as they sat around the table. "First cousins with your ma actually," Connie corrected. "Not exactly sure what that makes us, second cousins or some such, I guess." Mike was flabbergasted. In the bar, Connie had turned him on. Short cowgirl skirt that sometimes exposed patches of pink panty as she spun. Long, dark tresses flew wildly and wondrous red lips sang racy lyrics to a raucous audience. No doubt about it, she had given Mike the boner that he rubbed against Molly and Abby when they danced. Mike became quiet. Incest was on his mind again. Not the "not quite" incest-by-marriage stuff he was enjoying with his aunt. Real incest. Connie was blood. Connie, as good luck (or good planning) would have it, loved big cocks and, when she heard of Mike's giftedness, asked Molly to bring him to a show. Everyone at the table except Mike knew of her open lust for better-hung men. Her interest was more practical than esthetic as her pleasure was directly related to size. "So, Mike," Connie began, "seems like all the women have sampled your big dick but me." Poor Mike was caught completely unawares and misted beer blew from his nostrils. "Am I telling tales out of school or something?" Connie asked, enjoying her ability to shock her young cousin. "He's big, right?" Connie continued, shifting her glance from Abby to Molly and back again. Bill Dennis sat quietly with his arm around Molly's shoulders as talk of another man's penis monopolized the conversation. He wasn't threatened or jealous, confident enough in his own masculinity to let the females' sexy banter get him hard. Molly moved onto Bill's lap and put her arm around his neck. His arms were around her waist and his fingers intertwined at her fly of her jeans. The pair seemed content, for the moment, to watch the others. Abby walked over to Mike and took his face in her hands, giving him a big, wet kiss. It seemed that Abby was somewhat submissive to Connie, however, so that when Connie pulled Mike's face away, Abby stepped back rather than contest this newcomer for the privilege of sucking Mike's tongue. With Connie and Abby vying for, and commanding, Mike's attention, Molly and Bill quietly retired to the bedroom at the back of the camper. While Connie made out with Mike and enjoyed his hands on her tits, Abby knelt between the teenager's thighs and "fluffed" his cock, not that it needed fluffing, just that she so enjoyed sucking it. "Mmmm," said Connie lifting her mouth off the hickey she just placed on her cousin's neck, "ready to give me your big dick, Mike?" Mike was more than ready. "Not yet, Connie," Abby pleaded. "He's just a kid. The way he's excited, he wouldn't even get the head in before he shot off. Just let me finish him this way the first time. He'll still have plenty left for you." Abby went back to fellating the teen with urgency, determined to get him off before Connie could stop her. "Jesus, Abby, I never seen a woman like dick suckin' as much as you. It's a wonder you ever get fucked. Maybe you're right though," Connie stated realizing a kid Mike's age would have better stamina after he had gotten off once. Abby maneuvered Mike against the wall where he slouched down for the kneeling woman. Connie got up and stood behind Abby. Reaching up, she grabbed Mike's face pulling him close again. Their lips met and Connie started tongue-kissing him with a passion that matched Abby's. Moving closer, Connie felt her pubic bone touch the back of Abby's head. She began undulating her hips in a way that drove Abby's mouth faster and deeper onto Mike's cock. If Abby was to get Mike's first load, at least Connie could hurry things along. Women fighting over his cock got to Mike and, combined with Connie's hot mouth on his and Abby's hot mouth on his cock, there was really no chance he could last long, not that either woman wanted that this first time. Mike had both hands on Connie's waist as they made out and he could feel the movements of her hips as she drove Abby's head furiously onto his dick. It was as if Connie was using Abby's mouth as a surrogate pussy as she humped away at her cousin. Abby was experiencing a lust lunacy as the erotic feeling of Connie's crotch humping her head brought her close to an explosion of her own. She dug her fingers madly into her panties seeking that wonderful pleasure nub. Connie, too, was going insane from Mike's kisses and the dry humping she was giving Abby's head. Each time she drove her hips forward she could feel the pressure as Abby's throat bottomed out on Mike's cock. Then Abby would shove her head backward pushing against Connie's pussy mound as she slid her lips back up the cock. Connie knew she was close to climaxing herself and she increase the pace of her thrusting hoping to reach it. Abby came first as she complimented the excitement of the blowjob by wildly shoving three stubby fingers into her dripping pussy. Mike followed quickly as he heard Abby's moans and felt her mouth tighten around him. He groaned loudly as he shot his load onto Abby's eager tongue. Connie joined the other two, as the friction of her humping was more than enough to push her over the top. Each of the three was left moaning in ecstasy as they continued their movements to the completion of their climax. Mike was the first to break the orgasmic trance that had descended on the ménage a trois. As his cock shrank, Connie's pumping of Abby's head onto his cock, and Abby's continued eager suckings until he finally felt the need to slip free. He pulled his mouth away from Connie then reached down to place a restraining hand against Abby's forehead while he gently extracted his penis from its lipstick lockup. It was only minutes before things heated up again. Connie quickly began fondling Mike's semi-limp organ. As his swollenness returned, she whistled at the size of it. She licked all traces of semen from the shaft and head then got onto all fours. "C'mon stud 'n ride me like a brood mare," Connie told Mike. Mike positioned himself behind her. "Abby, help him put it in me," Connie commanded. Abby moved quickly to obey. She grabbed Mike's monster meat missile in one hand and felt for the entrance to Connie with the other. Moaning again, Connie shuddered and felt her juices flow down her legs toward the new carpet. Abby placed the head of the big dick against Connie's labia and rubbed it around, coating it in slippery she-sauce. Mike's eyes were closed and he was frozen in place leaving Connie to push backward, seating his cock head in her passageway. Abby caressed the exposed dick-shaft lightly causing Mike to 'twitch" his cock. His cock head swelled perceptibly and Connie moaned appreciatively. Mike held stock-still letting Connie set the rhythm as she fucked herself on his gigantic genitalia. "Oh shit," Connie whimpered, "that feels so fuckin' nice. There's nothin' in the whole world that feels as good as a big dick." Abby lay on her back and scootched herself under the copulating couple dragging her mammoth jugs along Connie's belly. Looking directly up, she could see Mike's big cock as it stroked in and out of Connie's pussy. Reaching up, she felt the slick, glistening piston as it plowed territory few men had ever visited. With her thumb, she began rubbing Connie's clit causing her to moan. "Damn, Abby," Connie croaked, "if you want to make yourself useful, get your tongue up there and give it some licks." Abby cheerfully complied. She grabbed Connie's hips, pulled herself up, and fastened her mouth to the juncture of Mike and Connie. She tongued both as the pair thrust against each other. Abby moved from Mike's shaft to his ball sack to Connie's clit. She attempted to jam her tongue between Connie's pussy walls and Mike's cock. All three, even Abby growled lustily. Mike pulled his long, fat cock all the way out of Connie. As it bobbed free, Abby lunged for it with her mouth but he'd moved too far back. Rather than a sweet mouthful of hard, young cock, she was left staring at Connie's gaping hole. Connie's pussy lips didn't close up like they did in most women. They gaped open leaving a tantalizing pink pipe that darkened as it snaked deep inside the steamy country singer. "What do you think of that pussy, Mike?" Connie asked her younger cousin when his cock exited her genitals. "It's a bit more accommodating than most of the women you've been with, ain't it." "A bit more?" laughed Abby still staring at Connie's amazing plumbing. "You're bigger than the main shaft at the Comstock Lode." "Damn straight!" Connie boasted, "and Mike's just the miner I need." Abby opened her mouth and aligned her puffy lips to Connie's pussy lips. The kiss was like nothing she'd ever experienced. Abby slid her tongue out of her mouth seeking the familiar feeling of a complementary organ but none materialized. She probed around Connie's open cunt sliding her slick licker against coated pussy walls that were so far apart that Abby could position her tongue in the center and not touch anything at all. Mike was eager to get back inside the big fissure that let him drive deep without bottoming out then slosh around without feeling like a tourniquet had been applied to his cockbase. Despite fierce resistance from Abby, Mike managed to push her head downward far enough to insinuate his big dick between her lips and his cousin's. Once she felt that hard young cock against her face, Abby moved so she could send her tongue the length of it as he slid back into Connie. Dropping her head to the floor, Abby breathed heatedly trying to catch her breath. "Christ Connie," Abby said humping the air wildly looking for a source of friction, "at least you could return the favor." "You know I ain't no carpet chomper Abby," Connie said, reaching for one of the empty, long neck bottles and shoving it into Abby's cunt. "Here, fuck yourself with that. I'm sure it won't be your first date with a glass dick." "Oh shit!" Abby groaned as the cold carafe entered her smoldering snatch. She almost came on the spot. But Connie provided no stroking leaving it to hang motionless from Abby's cunt. It didn't matter. Abby was so excited she grabbed the bottle herself and began jack hammering it in and out. Pushing herself up on her free elbow, Abby returned to providing oral service to the fuckers. The fornicating trio raced pell-mell toward a hyper-climax that had been building since they'd entered the camper. Abby arrived first, continuing her frenzied tongue moppings while thrashing about as she jammed the brown glass neck through her labia mashing it against her clit. Briefly, her pussy opened wide and the fat part the bottle slipped inside her. Her orgasm escalated as her pussy delighted in the reaming by the fattest dildo she'd ever taken. Abby's cries pulled Mike and Connie with her. Mike grabbed Connie and jerked her hard against his pubis as he began pumping hot semen. Connie felt the powerful jets and her vagina began spasming in pleasure. Although their orgasms began together, Connie began to convulse madly just as Mike fired his final volley. She tried to imprison Mike's cock with her pussy muscles but she was still experiencing wild contractions as Mike withdrew his rapidly softening pork pipe. Abby could feel Mike's sperm drip from Connie's now vacant pussy pit onto her face. The bottle was still fully imbedded in her mellowing snatch as she stuck out her tongue seeking to sample Mike's scrotum sap. "Not yet Mike!" yelped the climaxing Connie as the youth sat back on his heels guiltily. He needn't have worried, however, as Abby quickly popped her head up greedily lapping Connie's fresh cream pie. She sucked sweetly, cleaning Connie's cunt completely as both women completed the sating of their lust. The teenager recovered fastest and was on his feet while the older women lay on their backs exhausted. He fetched another beer and watched in fascination as the bottle dildo slowly emerged from Abby's relaxing vagina and settled onto the carpet. The following morning it fell to Mike to drive the hangover hobbled "adults" back to the ranch. * * * * On Friday of the Labor Day weekend. Mike and Molly were having tuna sandwiches and potato salad for lunch. With summer coming to a close, they over-chewed small bites and stared blankly at the beautiful western horizon. For Mike, summer was over quicker than a middle school circle jerk. Molly was thinking about the future. There was good news. She was the first to notice the silence. "You're awfully quiet," she said, nudging Mike out of his trance. "Yeah, I can't believe summer is over already. Has Mom said anything to you about me going home?" "Nothing," Molly answered truthfully. "I do have some good news though. At least I think it is. Bill Dennis is coming by again. He and I have worked out a business deal. He wants to talk to you as well." "Why me?" Mike's ears perked up. "He wants to offer you a job. Interested?" "A job? Where?" "Here, at the ranch." From the leisurely contemplation of bittersweet memories of the best summer of his brief life, suddenly, Mike's mind was pushed over a cliff. He was already in mental freefall when a most incredible bit of information appeared for processing. "I don't know if it makes a difference but Amanda is staying too. And you should probably know that Bill is Amanda's father." Without speaking, Mike stood up and walked slowly from the table in a random direction. "Mike? Are you all right?" "Uh...yeah. I'll get back to you." Fragments of thoughts popped into Mike's head only to be quickly elbowed aside by competing fragments. A job, winter in Wyoming, Amanda, his mother, Molly, his friends at home, his future all swirled together like the money on a rapidly spinning Wheel of Fortune. Finally, the wheel stopped. Amanda was Bill Dennis's daughter? Amazingly, he had never asked her last name and, as far as he knew, she didn't know his either. They'd talked about their hometowns, their schools, their friends, but not last names. Bill's daughter? Huh. Mike made a mental note: Tell Amanda my last name. Perhaps more importantly though, what about his mom? Every week when they talked on the phone, she told him how much she missed him and how she was looking forward to having him home again. He missed her too, at least while he was on the phone. Did he have it in him to disappoint the person he cared for most? Bill and Amanda arrived together in Bill's lavish motor home. His business plan wasn't overly complicated. He had sold everything in Denver. The money would be invested in a small resort on the shore of Molly's lake. The clientele targeted would be adult couples as opposed to families. Although there was no overt discussion of sexual openness, as Bill began listing those who had expressed an interest in vacationing with them, Mike recognized a sprinkling of names that Molly had mentioned when she spoke of swinging with Hastings. The more surprising part of Bill's presentation to Mike and Amanda was that, rather than purchase part of Molly's ranch as he had originally intended, they would become partners. Full and complete partners. When the quizzical look on Mike face remained, Molly spelled things out. "Bill and I are getting married, Mike." Amanda was as shocked as Mike but she recovered more quickly. "Omigod! That's great Dad," she said hugging her father and kissing his cheek. "Congratulations," she said to Molly, offering her hand. "We'll talk more later," Molly told her. Amanda had already agreed to stay in Wyoming working on whatever tasks her father assigned. She would stay in Abby's cabin rent free, just paying for utilities. She would also begin college at the local community college -- local meaning less than fifty miles away. Her dad would give her a company pickup for transportation. Lucky at Summer Ch. 04 As promised, Mike was offered a job. He, too, could claim one of Abby's cabins for the same arrangement as Amanda enjoyed. He was welcome to join Amanda at community college and was to share use of the pickup in a manner the two of them determined. Things had moved fast for Mike. The job opportunity, the chance to stay close to Amanda, his aunt's engagement, it was all so exciting and full of promise. He was just the slightest bit hesitant when he picked up the phone to call his mother. She wouldn't be expecting the news and, as much as he liked his life at the moment, he missed her. As the phone was ringing, he hoped he wouldn't disappoint her. "Hello." "Hi Mom, it's me." Mike breathed deeply. "I'm thinking about staying the winter."