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Drillin'

By: pjstewart50



P.J. was feeling good, had an extra spring in her step and glimmer in her eyes. Being in the country always made her feel both thankful and alive. The early afternoon sunlight warmed her arms and legs, bared to it by the sleeveless, form-fitting t-shirt and shorts. Although she felt great, she considered that the next few days might be like watching paint dry. Being out here in the middle of the East Texas pineywoods babysitting a crew of redneck water-well-drillers could possibly be boring beyond description.

As they drove in, dispersed in three Dodge trucks, P.J. steeled herself for the usual patronizing "yes, ma'ams" that floated effortlessly, probably since birth, from these young men's mouths. For god's sake, they drove Dodges, she sniffed, eyeing with passion her own bright red Ford F-350 dually.

The first young man out she recognized. It was the master-driller to whom she'd spoken the day before, Jimmie Ray. Tall, thin, quiet, he approached P.J. in a kind of sideways motion, tipping the brim of his CAT gimme cap. 

"Mornin' ma'am," he drawled. He was silent for half a minute after P.J. returned the salutation. He continued.

"Where d'ya think you want this well? You gonna build somewhere here?"

"Well, yes, I'm thinking of building here within a year or two. The house will probably be right over there," and P.J. pointed to an area that she and her cousin had been clearing over the past few months.

"Well," he drawled. "That's a fur piece from your trailer." He paused, looking from where P.J. had pointed to where the fifth-wheel was parked. Any number of P.J.'s friends from the city would have thought he was talking about some kind of mink jacket. He meant that where she pointed to was quite a distance from the trailer.

"Yes," she replied. "Yes, it is. But I can always have more line run when I finally build. As I said, it'll probably be a while."

She allowed him to take this in before she continued.

"So, can we drill somewhere down this way," she pointed north of where they now stood. "It's a bit out of the way, and I like that . . . if you think it's a suitable site," she deferred to his expertise.

And she didn't doubt the young man's experience. He'd come highly recommended. Both his father and grandfather had been drillers.

"Don't make much difference where we drill around here. Lots of water."

"Well, that's heartening."

"So, over there then," he said as he pointed to where P.J. had just indicated.

"Yes, that'd be good if you think it'll work."

"Yes'm. That's where you want it, that's where we drill it."

And in her brain, as some kind of portent, P.J. repeated his words, "that's where you want it, that's where we drill it." She'd been in a rather lusty mood all day and his words, so ripe with rather randy connotation, seem to conjure some evil sprite within her. As he started to explain the first steps of the process, P.J. watched as behind him the other men were milling around and waiting to get to work. Some were still inside the trucks, and, soon, out of one of them leapt a young man who immediately caught P.J.' s eye and started the evil sprite within to spinning like a top. He was the Homo sapiens version of a Clydesdale--beautiful and sturdy, quite serviceable. He walked with his hands in the pockets of his thin overalls, pulling the already tight canvas material even more tautly over his ample cheeks. P.J.'s eyes involuntarily followed the young man's form as he sauntered down to the lake's edge to determine placement of the large hose that would run water up to the drilling rig.

As P.J. watched him walk by, she caught herself openly gaping at the first full sight of his behind. "Good, god," she thought. "Would I ever love to dig my fingers into those ass cheeks!" This would be no easy task, she mused. The young man had the highest, shapeliest, hardest-looking butt she'd ever seen. Each cheek was perfectly molded and large. The young man was built low to the ground--his powerful, muscular legs reminded P.J. of tree trunks. Well, she giggled to herself, he'd have to have sturdy limbs to hold up that massive butt. A quarter inch shorter or taller in height would have marred the unholy symmetry of his shape. She wondered what might be on the front side of the butt, but figured it wouldn't really matter that much since she'd be reveling in the backside if given an opportunity. 

The driller was still speaking to P.J., but she hadn't heard all he'd said. Finally, as his voice grew purposely louder, P.J. turned her attention to him and answered more particular questions about placement of the well and other pertinent things. 

"We'll get started right away. Shouldn't take more than three days," he explained. "Shouldn't have to drill more than two-hundred forty, two-hundred seventy feet."

What a shame, P.J. silently thought to herself, I thought this was going to be bad, but I could watch this kid, her eyes went back to the Clydesdale, for more than three days, for sure.

As P.J. walked back to the trailer, lost in thoughts of the red-haired Clydesdale, she was unaware ten pairs of eyes were riveted on her own shapely bottom. Jimmie Ray thought to himself that it was just as well that she was going, apparently, inside. Keep the guys' minds on their work.

P.J. climbed the three steps, entered the trailer, and settled herself inside the chair near the large window. She had an excellent view of the crew. Equipment was driven in--the drilling rig itself, a flatbed trailer filled with steel and PVC pipe and various utility items, and another on whose surface rode a backhoe. Because the near two-mile sandy dirt road was not always easily passable, they'd elected to leave the flatbed trailers and the drilling rig near the FM road until they'd determined the condition of the sandy one. 

Little Red, as P.J. had now named the young man, jumped up and down and around as the tasks dictated. He wore tight white carpenter overalls and a white long sleeved t-shirt with the sleeves pushed up to reveal powerful forearms covered in golden red hair. On his head, the golden red hair was cropped close but with enough length to reflect the gold flecks in the hair in the sunlight. If he had freckles it wasn't obvious, for the young man was so evenly bronzed that any freckles would have been obscured. She had yet to get a really close look at his face, especially now that all the crew had donned their hard hats. 

This first day, half-day really, was one of preparation. The men scurried around, running the hose from the drilling site down to the lake and attaching it to the Honda generator which would pump the lake water up to the rig. Others pulled lengths of pipe from the trailer and carried them to the drilling site. Still others moved equipment into various places, preparing for the day ahead.

As the master-driller ambled up to the trailer, P.J. intercepted him, opening the door and stepping out.

"We gotta run the 'lectricity down where you want the pump. Gonna dig a trench first though. Any place you don't want us to dig?"

P.J. stepped down, closed the door behind her, and followed the driller around to the end of the trailer.

"Well," she said, "I suppose the straightest course would be the best. There's nothing underground between here and there. Just do it the shortest way. Make it easy."

"Yes, ma'am. Sounds good." A pause. "I won't do the 'lectricity 'til tomorrow, but we'll get everything else ready today."

And with that, he touched his cap and moseyed away.

P.J. had expected a ditchwitch to appear from somewhere amid all the machinery. Surely they had one on one of those trailers. But no ditchwitch. Suddenly, Mr. Master-Driller Jimmie Ray was directing Little Red, pointing from the utility pole to back where they now stood. As he grabbed a shovel from one of the flatbed trailers, P.J. now understood that Little Red was going to dig the trench by hand. Oh, my god. It was a good seventy-five feet from the pole to the area where the pump was going in.

She started walking quickly towards Jimmie Ray who, as he caught side of her coming his way, turned and headed back towards her.

She knew her look was incredulous as she asked the question.

"He's going to dig the trench by hand," and her voice went up as she emphasized the word "hand."

"Why, yes, ma'am. It's soft sand. Won't be much to the diggin'. Just rained yestiddy."

P.J. shook her head in astonishment. She hadn't been thinking about the sand as much as she'd been thinking about the distance and the sheer physical exertion of wielding a shovel for that length of time. She returned to her perch in the trailer's large window.

The next hour saw P.J.'s inner-sprite move from mild excitement to a feverish pitch as she watched the young man work his way methodically up to the window where she sat. Stand up, foot on shovel, push into sand, bend, scoop, dump, and stand again. She became so mesmerized by the predictable motion that she found herself rocking in time with it. She also rocked for other reasons. She noticed it was getting warmer and warmer inside the trailer. 

The afternoon passed too quickly. Shortly after Little Red had finished the trench, Jimmie signaled to all that it was time to go. He made his way up to the trailer's door where P.J. met him.

"Back in the mornin'," her drawled. "Get an early start."

And they were, in moments, gone, the sound of the diesel engines fading as they neared the paved road.

But the evil sprite remained, and P.J. spent the evening and too much of the night trying to make it go away.

***

Saturday morning, Little Red was wearing pale blue overalls, again not denim but a smoother, lighter sheeting material, and a white t-shirt. If possible, these overalls fit more snugly than yesterday's. The material was thinner and the perfect globes of Little Red's ass tightly bounced. Literally fuckin' bounced, P.J. marveled, as he walked. 

Today, the actual drilling began, and P.J. watched, fascinated, as the process developed. When the steel pipes had been buried to a certain length, drilling would cease and more pipe would be added. P.J. couldn't tell exactly how it was done, but it appeared that some kind of metal collar was used to thread on to the pipe lengths and put them together.

From time to time, Jimmie Ray would closely inspect some of the core material brought up from underground. He'd smell it, rub it between his fingers, and one time, P.J. swore, he actually tasted it. It wasn't long after lunch on Saturday that he came to the trailer to tell her that they'd hit water much earlier than he'd expected--about a hundred sixty feet. But he wanted to go down a bit more to make sure they got good water. And the drilling continued.

P.J. gaped at Red as he used his animal strength to tighten the collar on the pipe before it descended again, longer now, into the sandy soil. As he grabbed the pipe, P.J. had an excellent view of his backside, the power of his thighs, back, and arms. She wasn't sure what to do with her pent up energy, but the evil sprite had been doing a full-fledged Riverdance in her brain for many hours before she finally decided she'd better put the energy to use and went outside and climbed on the riding mower. 

When the crew finally took an afternoon break, P.J. was glad to see Little Red head down to the lake's edge to check the generator and the hose. She stopped the lawn tractor, got off, and nonchalantly followed him.

What the hell, she asked herself. Life's good. Short, too. You want 'im, just go for it. Put the line out. See if he's bitin'.

He felt her come up behind him. And smelled her. He hadn't been close to her today, so he was just now getting a whiff of the perfume. But he, and the others, had taken advantage of their eyesight frequently since arriving this morning. She'd been riding the lawnmower, and the uneven terrain had made her breasts bounce, to Little Red's mind at least, infernally. They were the kind he liked--not too small, not too large, round and seemingly firm.

As he turned around, P.J. stopped her forward approach, smiled, and asked her opening question.

"What do people do for entertainment around here," she inquired of Little Red.

"En-ter-tai-un-ment," he asked, drawing the word out to five syllables. "You mean whadda we do for fun?"

"Why, yes, that's exactly what I mean. Where might you go to entertain yourselves?

"Hmmm," he mused, stroking his chin before continuing. "Well, prah-bly T's Club over to Shebbyville."

What the young man meant was an establishment in Shelbyville, but he pronounced it in the local fashion, to Shebbyville.

Little Red eyed her for a moment, excused himself, then turned and completed his current task. But the way he had eyed her made P.J. think she might head the other red male in her life, her truck, out to Shelbyville tonight. And the sprite broke into an absolute jig. She returned up the incline and decided on a glass of iced tea. She'd offered tea to the workers earlier, but Jimmie motioned her over to one of the trucks and lifted the lid on a huge ice chest revealing bottles of water and a half-dozen or more kinds of canned drinks, including iced tea.

"Thanks anyway," he'd said. Now, she definitely felt the need to cool her insides.

P.J. sought shelter, both from the sun and her increasing excitement, by pulling a chair under the shade of a huge sweetgum tree and slowly sipping the cold tea. Little Red was apparently hot as well, for she saw him slug down two cans of something in what seemed only a couple of gulps.

Before they packed up for the evening, the head driller came to tell P.J. that they'd return tomorrow. She was a bit surprised since tomorrow was Sunday. He explained that they had a big job on Tuesday and wanted to make sure they were through here in plenty of time. Surprises sometimes happened, he'd said. He added that they wouldn't be early in the morning, probably around 10:00 o'clock, and projected that they'd be through by early afternoon.

She nodded assent and said she'd see them in the morning.

The trucks fired up, the purr, at least to her ears, of the diesel engines resounding in the usually quiet woods. The truck driven by the master-driller pulled out first. A moment or two later, a second one followed. The third truck idled, then slowly pulled up closer to where P.J. stood in the shade. Little Red rolled down the passenger side window and leaned his forearm on the truck.

"Know where Shebbyville is?"

"Yep," P.J. replied.

"Welp, we'll be there this evenin'. At T's. Y'know. Case you wanna come."

"Well," P.J. waited before finishing her thought. "Maybe I'll see ya there."

"Yes, ma'am."

And with that the window rolled up and the truck rolled out. 

***

P.J. determined on the short skirt, but eschewed the low-cut blouse. The long-sleeved t-shirt, fairly snug, would do nicely. She looked rather like a toy person, a doll, in relation to the big truck she crawled into. The drive to Shelbyville was about half an hour. She popped a Lucinda Williams CD into the player and screamed "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road" along with Lucinda, repeating the same song all the way to T's, a private club not hard to find since the whole town of Shelbyville consisted of two major streets and only a dozen or so minor ones. She hadn't even had to ask anyone. The parked vehicles in a large parking lot led her the way.

When she pulled in, the lot was jammed, not surprising since T's shared the parking space with the all-you-can-eat-catfish restaurant next door. In fact, the lot wound its way behind the buildings and it seemed that nearly every space was taken. She had to park pretty far away, a bit worried about leaving Big Red so far from the front door. She laughed at herself when she looked around and counted no less than forty similar trucks within a stone's throw.

She jumped down out of the truck and made her way to the front door of the club. A group of men idled on the porch that stretched the width of the building, sucking in their collective breath as P.J. approached them.

As she slowly climbed the five steps, the three men wearing cowboy hats slowly put their fingertips to their hat brims. Quite a compliment to an old woman, P.J. thought. She smiled broadly and offered a "good evening, gentlemen," and again the sprite danced to her inner tune.

"Evenin', ma'am," came responses from all around.

It was dark, noisy, and smoky inside. P.J. made her way to the bar in an effort to locate either Little Red or some of the men from the crew. Finally, beer in hand, P.J. spotted Little Red on the other side of the room moving around in a collection of mostly-western attired young men, two of whom she recognized from the crew.

Little Red, too, had followed the uniform code of the evening. He wore starched and creased Wranglers, she wondered to herself where he'd gotten a pair to fit that body, and a crisp white shirt, no hat. The red hair glowed when he stepped under various faint spotlights located around the dimly-lit room. 

It wasn't long, a buzz seemed to have accompanied her arrival, before Little Red headed her way. He wasn't shy. He wasn't cocky. He simply wanted to have a good time. They made small talk over the fairly loud music and finished their beers. Then, hand outstretched, Little Red asked P.J. to dance.

And around they went, two-stepping along with the rest of the crowd, laughing and enjoying the band and each other, eventually falling into a comfortable pattern. Four songs later, Little Red asked if she wanted another beer. P.J. nodded yes, then managed to communicate that she was headed to the ladies' room and would be right back.

The restrooms were located down a long wooden hallway at the back of the building. P.J. smiled wryly as she read "Dude-ettes" on the ladies' room door. Hmmm, she thought to herself, it certainly was not as insulting as the designation of "Sluts" in a Los Angeles nightclub she'd once visited. She went in and relieved herself, checking her reflection in the mirror before returning to the melee outside. Her face was pleasantly flushed, and the sprite was apparently attempting a getaway through her sparkling eyes. She was having fun. More fun than she'd had in a while.

He met her in the hall. Just enough beer to make him lose what little inhibition he exhibited around the older woman. He stood in front of P.J., smiling down at her. Although he wasn't tall, perhaps 5'8" or so, he was taller than her 5'3" frame. He lightly pushed her back to the wall and leaned into her, placing a surprisingly good kiss on her lips. She returned the kiss, increasing its fervor as he pressed into her with more of his weight.

In less than two minutes, P.J.'s hand tucked into Little Red's, they headed out the exit door at the end of the restroom hallway. Exit Only -- No Entrance, the sign on the door read. Moments later they were in Little Red's vehicle, not a truck, parked in the lot at the back of the building. Must've been Daddy's old car. And a fine one it was, too. The 1970 Roadrunner had an ample backseat area. 

P.J. practically broke into girlish laughter as Red gallantly opened the backdoor and swept his hand before him in a gesture of invitation. She crawled in, Red right behind her. As they settled down, each near one of the corners of the backseat, P.J. realized that Little Red smelled very good. He did not smell of pine, not of English Leather or Brut. In fact, he smelled of Dolce & Gabbana, the cologne that many of her male students back in fashion-conscious Big D wore. Suddenly, she wanted to know Little Red's real name.

"What's your name?" she asked. "I'm P.J."

"Yes, ma'am. I know." He paused. "Don't laugh at mine, okay?" he asked defensively.

"Of course I won't laugh. Go ahead. Tell me."

"Well, I'm named after my grandfathers. All four of them. My full name is Archibald Jackson Caleb David McNeff." He eyed her for a response when he finished.


Drillin'



Not seeing any laughter hidden on her face, he continued.

"But everybody calls me Red."

Hmmm. Real surprise, P.J. thought.

"Well, I can see why," she returned. "But what does your mom call you?"

He looked away, then back.

"My mom, well, she's dead." And he paused, looking away again.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, a sudden wave of regret hitting her. "I didn't mean to remind you of something sad. I just wondered if she called you Red, too."

Eyes back on hers, he smiled a little.

"No ma'am. She called me Caleb. That was her momma's daddy's name. She loved him a lot. Me, too. He died when I was 'bout twelve." Another pause while he glanced away and back. "Ma died a coupla years after that."

P.J. waited a few seconds before responding. Red looked as if he needed a bit of recovery time. Finally, she continued.

"Well, with your permission, I'd like to call you Caleb. I like that name very much."

"Why, yes ma'am. That'd be fine."

"Caleb, if you keep callin' me ma'am, you're going to ruin my rather, uh, heated mood," and she delivered this with a huge smile.

He smiled back.

"No, ma'am." His eyes got big when he realized he'd done it again. "I mean, yes, P.J."

She grinned.

"Much better."

She'd wondered about the car and asked him now.

"Did you buy this car? Or did you inherit it from someone?"

"Oh, it was my uncle's. He bought it new back in high school. Cool, huh?"

"Yes, it is. I have to admit, Caleb, I've been in the backseat of one of these a time or two," and she winked at him.

In response, Caleb leaned forward, reached his arm around her waist, and pulled her body towards him, her face near his. Giddily, P.J. grabbed him back, caught up in the swirl of emotions created by the memories of those Roadrunner days.

Caleb didn't hesitate in making a move. During one of those inner-thigh-wettening kisses, his hand went almost immediately to P.J.'s breast. She was glad the slightly-scooped neckline was not too tight fitting. In a moment, he easily plunged his hand down the neckline and into the bra.

Ahhh, Caleb thought to himself. Hard nipples. Soft flesh. 

As Caleb's hand explored her breasts, her hand finally rested between his inner thighs, and she was a bit surprised.

Little Red did not possess a Hemi. No, sir, it was even better. Little Red was packin' under the hood of his Wranglers a full-fledged super duty power stroke diesel! Oh, my. P.J. never expected such a powerful shaft although she'd been admiring the drive train for two days now. 

Lordy, she mused, and I thought the ass was good!

In a flurry of hot lips and hand signals, she made Caleb know that it was time for the clothing to start disappearing. Navigating the Wranglers was not easy. They had to come off all the way. But, after switching positions several times, the jeans finally rested somewhere in the front seat. Anxiously, P.J. pulled the crisp shirt up in order to inspect the powerful torso and was rewarded with a delightful sight. She lightly ran her fingertips up Caleb's abdomen, looking him in the eyes. His brawny arms, easily able to crush her, went around her lightly and pulled her close. He held her briefly, then leaned back. There he was, she smiled at herself, looking down at his underwear, snug and white, ready for the taking.

Caleb had helped her all he could in getting off his jeans, but his mind was occupied on getting her clothes off. Was this, he wondered happily to himself, really about to happen? His hands went to the hem of the t-shirt, no resistance. Then he began to slide the t-shirt in an upward motion. Still no resistance. Seeing his way clear, Caleb simply finished his task in one easy movement, P.J. assisting by lifting her arms as high in the air as the roof of the car allowed.

Caleb stared at her in the moonlight. The natural light was augmented by the rather unearthly glow from the high parking lot lighting standard as well. There they were, he grinned. The boobs. Nestled in a pink bra. A pink lacy bra.

Caleb buried his face in her chest. God, she smelled good. Soooo good. And she was soft, too.

He wondered about the skirt. It was short, sorta stretchy. Maybe he could just pull it up around her waist. He sat up and tugged at the skirt, raising it to the desired position, a shift of P.J.'s weight assisting in the task. Pink lace panties, too. Nothing much to 'em, he smiled to himself. Wouldn't take more than a little finger to push them out of the way. 

He wrestled her around and flattened her on her back, his body pressing down on hers. She was dizzy with the jeans-removing effort and welcomed his direction. He began the kissing assault again. It was nice, very, but she was ready to test the power stroke. She maneuvered his hand between her thighs and the fingers of both her hands finally found their way down his back and to his butt.

It was like trying to grasp two well-inflated basketballs--couldn't get much of a grip. Finally, she gave up and simply rubbed them, a movement he apparently enjoyed.

His hands were not idle. The hand she'd placed between her thighs was doing a fine job of bringing her near the edge, his fingers edged under the thin film of pink material. Although close to it, she didn't allow herself to get off, but squirmed to avoid going over the edge right now. She wanted to let it build--build to something volatile. 

As the momentum grew, their kisses felt hotter, their hands and fingers dug into flesh more keenly, and their breathing signaled a new direction. Somewhere inside the swirling sensations--Caleb's smell, his taste, his breathing, his hard body--P.J. wondered about the position in which they'd end up. The evil sprite was driving her to the last round of this dance. The backseat area was roomy enough, but the seat itself was not that deep. At least one set of limbs would be hampered on both of them. Before she could contemplate it much more, Caleb sat up on his knees and pulled her up with him.

She seized this moment to tug down his underwear and took an audible breath at the sight before her eyes. Oh, the sprite went absolutely wild. She helped Caleb quickly get the briefs all the way off and tossed them over the back of the passenger seat.

He guided her to the space between the bucket seats, facing her towards the windshield. There, her knees on the floorboard, she leaned over the console, but apparently this position did not allow Caleb enough room to settle in behind her. He leaned over her now to push down the driver's seatback and shifted her body, left knee included, into an angle which aimed her upper body over the now prone seatback. P.J. liked this better. The seatback was not as uncomfortable as the hard, jutting console.

This angle must've given Caleb sufficient room because soon P.J. felt his fingers in her, testing the water, so to speak. And she thought of his boss, Jimmie Ray, as he had tested the core samples from the pipe from time to time, attempting to divine when the desired gush would come.

P.J. gasped when Little Red thrust his drillin' rig into her private land. He wasn't frantic, but he imparted to her a feeling of urgency. She felt like the expiring canary in the mine shaft as Red steadily pumped the air out of her with his measured strokes. 

And Caleb, for his part, didn't mind obliging the lady. In fact, Caleb liked older women, liked this one a lot. They knew when to hurry and when to take their time. When to lead and when to follow. And this one was in a perfect position right now with a perfect round ass and a perfect tight slit to delight his senses. And she knew it was time for her to relax and let him direct because right now he was driving to a place that was soon to be reached. He'd been fantasizing about her for a couple of days now, and this first trip to the promised-land would be short. No matter. He had other things to do in between.

Caleb gasped when P.J. reached her hand down and wormed it between his legs and gently cupped his balls. God, he loved that feeling, that extra sensation while he pumped away. Lightly, she massaged him as he worked himself to the pay-off. It wasn't long before he sped up his strokes and delved farther into her depths, soon finding the release he'd driven for.

Offhandedly, P.J. wondered if anyone had sauntered by the car, noticed the motion, and peered in. Ah, no matter. They wouldn't be enjoying it anymore than she.

Caleb's movements ground slowly to a halt as he emptied all he had into P.J. But he didn't waste time and soon pulled out and pulled her up by the waist. He maneuvered himself around at the same time he lifted her up and then placed her, back down, on the backseat. The pink panties had been pulled to the side as he'd drilled into her, and they were soaked as Caleb reached for them now. He slid them down her legs and over her feet, tossing them to the front somewhere near where his jeans lay.

Within seconds his head buried between her thighs and his nose traveled up and down the length of her slit. P.J. was so near the edge that she grabbed the sides of Caleb's head and attempted to speed his rhythm so she could get off. Caleb didn't respond. He'd take his time. P.J. was torn between cursing him and thanking him. And the sprite screamed for the dance to end. 

Caleb switched from nose to tongue. She smelled and tasted like vanilla and woman. It wasn't more one than the other, but a heady blend of each. He lapped and lapped, switching between short, quick movements like a starving kitten's and long, slow movements like one uses to savor an ice cream cone as long as possible. P.J. had her wish. The wait was to prove worth it as she slowly shuddered her way to a blinding orgasm, Caleb holding her inner thighs down with the insides of his forearms, feeling her buck and squirm as the sprite shook its head and laughed. 

More, P.J. thought. She wanted to feel him in her again. She unlocked her hands from behind Caleb's neck, pulled him towards her, and sought his drilling rig. And there it was. Fit and ready to drill again. Young men, god love 'em, she smiled. 

As P.J. leaned forward to get a better grip on Caleb's cock, he sought her nipples again. She thrilled as he took one in mouth and the other in hand, sending all kinds of electric impulses to her still hot center.

As her mouth went to the top of his head to kiss that golden red hair, Caleb suddenly released her nipples and rose up to settle himself in the corner of the backseat. He was not in a seated position as much as a half-lying one. The edge of the stiff white shirt was bunched up around his waist and the hard on threatened to poke a hole in the Roadrunner's roof. It was an invitation, an invitation to ride, and it was one that P.J. and her sprite gladly accepted. She grinned wickedly at Caleb as he smiled from the corner of the car.

One foot planted firmly on the floorboard and the other planted on the backseat on Caleb's left side, P.J. aligned her body directly over the cock Caleb held for her. She smiled at him and he smiled back as she slowly lowered herself. Oh, let him last a while, she thought. And, he did.

Caleb enjoyed watching her. She closed her eyes from time to time, threw her head back, and made low moaning noises. Then, she'd raise her head, open her eyes, and smile at him a wicked smile. His hands roamed back and forth from her breasts, to her waist, to her buttocks. So much to hold on to. She rocked on him sometimes slowly, sometimes not. He appreciated her change of rhythm, aware that it had staved off his orgasm more than once.

P.J. tightened her muscles around Caleb's cock. She had found a position that rubbed her clit in an oh-so-exquisite way and she and her sprite had waltzed around that position long enough that she was about to explode again. She also heard herself begin the moaning crescendo that generally accompanied this wondrous explosion.

As her breathing deepened and both his and her moans came more closely together, Caleb's eyes got larger and he gripped her butt firmly, kneading his fingers into the dough of her flesh. She rode him harder now, pushing herself to oblivion.

It didn't always happen, the simultaneous orgasm, but the Roadrunner was good luck. As if on cue, Caleb and P.J. both began their delightful deliverance. The Roadrunner rocked and, if there were passersby, they must've thought an earthquake had hit East Texas. They locked, and they rocked. And they made noise to wake the dead.

Slumped down on Caleb, P.J. nestled her cheek into his chest. Caleb placed his chin on top of her head, smiled to himself, then took a deep breath and sighed, contentedly. She raised up briefly and smiled, placing a kiss on the tip of his bronzed nose. And then it hit her. Jimmie Ray's words. How accurate they'd been. "Yes'm," he'd said. "That's where you want it, that's where we drill it." And so Caleb had. Drilled her where the drillin' was good. She let out a short giggle after realizing the premonition had come true. And her head went back to burrow into the chest. Ain't life grand, she thought. And the moonlight shone on the roof of the Roadrunner and all was quiet within.



Drilling Deep



[©2010 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS OVER THE AGE OF 18; NO EVENTS DESCRIBED ARE TRUE; STORIES HAVE A 'HARDER EDGE' THAN MOST; BE WARNED; HERE BE DRAGONS]

[Plumber works hard; a mom and her daughter recognize it; rich husband offends plumber, who decides that only deep drilling will solve household problems]

My name is Richard, call me Rich.  I was going to be a teacher before I went into the plumbing business. Seems I couldn't get tenure and, well, it's a long story. I always tried to be the proverbial 'good plumber'. You know, neat, clean, on time, no surprise charges, no charging for copper when I used PVC, etc. Most of all, having been divorced, I never treated myself to the household 'goodies' unless they happened to be unattached, and even then...

My business is small, only about 5 trucks and 7 plumbers with various odd (and I mean 'odd') plumbers' helpers. We got a Cracker Jack job to do: some rich swells were rebuilding a fixer-upper and wanted a ton of problems fixed. They had the traditional 'shaking hot water pipes', bad water taste, uneven pressure, and freezing pipes, plus change-out of everything that uses water. Bonanza!

I met the people. It was a smart, bald, business executive named Maurice. His trophy wife was named Eve, a true babe in the MILF tradition (blond, about 40-ish, maybe 36D-25-37). Finally, their daughter, Candy, 18 (dyed blond, not like her mom, more gymnastic lithe than built) who was equally as hot as mom, though totally different.

Maurice told me the vision he had for this house. Like most fixer-uppers, it was an extravagant waste of money, money better spent on a newer house with none of the inherent problems of some old dump. I guess these people didn't realize that whatever the looks of the house, the innards are as worn down and deficient whether the Ritz or a fleabag hotel...

Like I said at the outset, I was divorced and as a result, I became almost religious about respecting other people's marriages. This was overcompensation, looking back, because no one respected my marriage, least of all my treacherous, if gorgeous, brunette witch (I mean wife.) So, this little nasty weasel of a man had nothing to worry about, leaving me alone working in his house with his super sexy wife and daughter while he was on some corporate junket. No sir, I wasn't going to mess with anyone...that is, unless he was a real jerk...but no one could be that much of a jackass could they?

Maurice told me all of the new appliances they wanted installed.

I totaled the costs and told them we would need progress payments.

He was reasonable about that. 

I told him that changing the entire hot water system just because of the pipes 'singing' was unnecessary.

He said they could afford it. He added (gratuitously): "I am sorry that you think it is unnecessary; perhaps if you had gone to college and pursued a real career, you would be in my shoes ordering the work instead of having to perform it..."

I had a master's degree in education (secondary thru junior college), thesis the curriculum for 'radical reconstruction', circa 1877. I didn't appreciate his comments but I just stored that away. The customer is always ripe, I always said.

He left with a flourish, his stylish Ralph Lauren rolling bags nicer than anything I owned. His wife gave him that buss on the cheek that I gave my grandmother when I was departing after Thanksgiving. He waved to the daughter and left in a corporate black Lincoln town car. Hooray, he's gone!

There was such a change in atmosphere in the house it was palpable. Eve, the mom, had been wearing a stylish Yves St. Laurent silk house outfit with blouse, loose fitting pants, and shoes from some overpriced New York leather works. 

Candy had been wearing a dress from Mervyn's, and Converse for women. (no, I didn't spot all of this myself; as I stared at the obviously expensive duds, they told me about them.)

Now that he left, Eve put on a mohair sweater that was very tight, slacks that were painted on her and jewelry shoes...i.e. no shoes, only jewelry wrapping ankle and toes.

Candy put on a team jersey for the state college and pedal pushers with flip flops.

I couldn't exactly watch them change; I was heavily involved in tearing down plaster and finding new problems almost every five minutes. 

Whenever I had crew members around, the women would put on frumpy clothes and shoes, but when they knew it was just me, back would come the real casual stuff. 

When Eve wore that damn mohair sweater/top, she never wore a bra. From a distance, that was no big deal. When she approached, her perfect 36D bust would bounce and bounce and BOUNCE. Better still, once she was close by, the poor mohair was pushed to the bursting point by her breasts. I can't tell you how sexy, how unnerving it is, to see the customer's wife with a top so tenuous that her nipples were only partially concealed by the overstretched material. I had a devil of a time to keep my ten inch long friend cooped up in my corral down there. Also, I have no idea how she knew I was the type who would be driven crazy to see a pair of perfect, demure, smooth feet, sporting ruby red toenails and some shiny jewelry, but nothing else obstructing my enjoyment of her gorgeous feet. Ay, Chihuahua!

So, when Eve went out shopping and I was left alone with Candy, things were placid...right? Well, no. If I had to work near their interior courtyard pool, then she would suddenly feel the need to put on this string bikini and catch some rays. The bikini was so minimal that you could clearly see tufts of wavy blond hair sticking out in all directions from the micro bottom. Well, a man can only take so much, and that day, as I turned to get tools from my truck, she couldn't help but see that I was bone hard, my tan work pants clearly outlining my erect cock which now was so long and hard that I had to fidget and lay it on its side so it stretched across my waist.

When I came back from the truck, Candy was still there, sunning herself. The thing was, with her eyes under plastic eye covers, I could stare, and boy did I ever. I guessed that she had seen herself hanging out down below. She must've shyly pushed her enticing bush back under the tiny bikini bottom, because it was much less noticeable. I stared and then, shock. No, she hadn't done a thing; her beaver fluff was still there, but it had matted and coiled up, being as wet as it was. God in heaven, she saw my most important 'tool' and got sopping wet! May the gods of self-control work overtime.

Later, in the house, Eve (the sensuous mother) had eschewed the mohair top for a Liz Claiborne blouse, like a tight fitting t-shirt. As I struggled with the washing machine pipes in the constricted laundry room, she chose that time to struggle past. To be honest, though I faked working through her passage, my complete concentration was devoted to feeling every sensation. Sure enough, her jutting tits which bobbled braless under that thin blouse were literally rubbed across my blue workshirt. Her nipples were so hard that I could even feel them. For a moment, I froze...it was the hottest moment of my life up till then, and I include my wedding night with my raven haired jezebel (I mean wife.)

About 10 days into the 21 day scheduled project, Maurice returned, tanned and cocky as ever from his important corporate work on Saint Vincent. He asked how the work was going, and then criticized the bathrooms, demanding that they be re-centered. 

I explained to him that they had to be offset in order to allow for the pipes to pass thru the slab as it was. 

He said if I had graduated from a decent college, I might have found a solution by now; we had to dig, if necessary, but the 'facilities' had to be exactly centered. He also said he wouldn't pay for overtime but that our contract would require me to cover it, at my expense!  Tough luck, sucker? 

Well, that was it. It was going to be undeclared war between this jerk and me. I guess he didn't realize that he was but 5 foot 5, 145. Both his wife and daughter were slightly taller than him; jeez, his daughter once told me she was even stronger than him...and I mean like twice as strong at the bench. Here he was pulling some chicken sh-t clause in the contract. Well, two can play a game.

I brought in a crew that had me make all of his changes. Okay, not all of the guys were documented, but we made the contract cost levels. So, whereas he thought he had taken me big-time, I ended up making a small profit. I did lose out on the 'gravy' I originally expected, but then, I wasn't thru 'working in their house.'

The work was done and the contract paid. I told him that we had quality control and that I would go the next week to check all systems out. 

He said contemptuously that: "Boy, you toilet bowl cleaners sure have a hard job to do...I'm just glad I picked a different line of work. My wife will oversee your work and report to me if anything at all isn't perfect."

I got there the next week with my toolbox. Eve let me in, wearing a silk Halston robe, silk slippers, and absolutely nothing else. She was soon going to have all my attentions, let me tell you.

As I checked out her dishwasher for safe, leak-free operation, she sat, 'reading the paper', dangling a slipper sexily from her gorgeous showgirl, tanned leg, the robe loosely attached, gaping in front showing cleavage. Enough was enough!

I asked her if I could remove my shirt, since the dishwasher put out an enormous amount of heat when using its full drying cycle.  This was the first time I had overtly responded to their 'prick-teasing'.

She said: "Sure, I guess so." [Her response left me wondering if they both were only prick teases or if they really wanted it...I was going to gamble they wanted it...badly.]

My shirt came off. Compared to her wimpy five foot five husband, my six foot frame must have been a revelation. And, whereas he could be outlifted by his slender daughter, I doubt my 23" biceps laden arms would have the same difficulty. I heard an audible sigh when I flexed them, to limber up before work...

Now came the real gamble. I told her my workpants got caught on the dishwasher lever; I would have to take them off; she could look away if she wanted. She put her hand over her face, with obvious gaps between her fingers.

I let them drop, purposely devoid of any jockey shorts. I turned proudly, my ten inch cock steel hard. Her hand left her face, the charade over.

I went up to Eve, wife of the weasel who tried to screw me in writing; I picked her up and put her on that square wood table.  The Halston robe fell open, her lush, incredible breasts out in the open finally. As I approached the table, her hand almost magically appeared down there, guiding me in. She looked to the ceiling, moaning in pleasure, as I fed her inch after inch, inch after inch. 

In a voice that was so turned on, Eve could've been a 900 operator: "My God, you are SO much more of a man than my wimpy husband...every inch you gave me after the first three was a bonus. Oh, and these magnificent family jewels of yours!" (she cupped my balls, swollen to the size of mangos, heavily laden with potent seed) "If I wasn't a loyal wife to my dear husband, I would tell you to seed me, hard...but I AM married, and I can't afford any complications. So could you please, oh, pull, oh my God, pull out before it's too...ummm...oh"

As I literally inched forward, I wasn't sure if she wanted me to keep going or not. My eyes had been so closed with passion that I didn't see something staring me in the face. Candy, her trampy daughter, was standing at the doorway to the huge kitchen. She had an opinion on these doings:

Candy: "Mr. Plumber man, I heard you argue with my father. I must say, it sounded like YOU were the one being screwed. So, why not screw my mother...it's only fair. I DO have to warn you, though. She and I have the same cycles, and this is a hazardous time to be playing down there. So unless you think that mom can convince micro-dick that HE got her knocked up, I would pull out before it's too late."

I said: "Thanks, I think." In spite of the 4-11 from the daughter, I began sawing in and out of the hottest, tightest, most welcoming snatch I had ever experienced. Her moans of excitement made me glad all of the windows were closed for the summer. To my amazement, the daughter did not leave us; indeed, she brazenly sat down, at that table, reaching around and cupping my family jewels!

Candy said: "I don't know, mom, I can feel his unit and his seed storage is in this bull-sized sack. You can't see as they sway but it is the sexiest display of virility and manhood I have ever seen. He must have 100 million sperm in there, just dying to get you divorced from your bald, boy-size equipped, troll husband. You better decide in the next two minutes, because, wow, those huge nuts are retracting into him, waiting to finish his housework by painting your womb white with foam. Mom, I mean it, 60 seconds to babytime! Mom, mom?"

Eve didn't speak. She extended those shapely legs, one of them pushing Candy away in a defiant show of independence. She then brought them together around my back, locking her ankles. To my astonishment, her daughter got up and actually tried to undo those locked ankles, knowing what came next. Candy felt the first surge, as a ripple went thru me, making her mother moan in ecstasy. It was so stunning, so visceral, that Candy gave up her 'rescue mission' and sat back glumly, watching her mom get seeded...hard. 

She watched as my huge balls and the underside of my mammoth babymaker shuddered and shook eight additional times, each time eliciting an orgasmic cry from her mom. Her little rat of a husband had really insulted me and tried to screw me big time; now I was screwing his wife, big time. If, by mistake, I was to leave her pregnant, well that would just be a mistake. I mean, gosh, it would really pain me to have the wife of this scumbag get a swollen tummy carrying my baby. That would be horrible. Worse, what about when he went out of town on his next junket after the birth. I might have to suffer visiting the new mom and her baby. Oh, the pain. I might even have to lend a hand, drinking her warm, sweet breastmilk, perhaps even suffering the fate of trying to get a start on the next illicit baby. Heavens, what a terrible fate!

After we had finished our business in the kitchen, I picked up Eve. Carrying her in my arms, we kissed as I carried her out to the Italian leather sofa. I gently placed her there, replacing the robe around her perfect body. Before I did it up, I kissed her tummy, for good luck. I bent over her as she gasped for breath to recover. Kissing her lips lightly, I went to her ear. I blew ever so gently, kissed the inside of the ear, and whispered for her to "have my baby!"

There was a cloth loveseat across from the sofa. I totally collapsed there. The two of us slept like hibernating bears for four hours.

To both of our surprise, the daughter had prepared egg foo yung, egg drop soup, roast pork, and a few other things. They were the easiest Chinese dishes to make, but at least she did them well. As we ate at their formal dinner table, rain forest hardwood, designed for 12-20 guests, Candy persisted in playing footsie with me. I must say, it was damn sexy. Not only were her legs perfect and her feet petite and perfect, but this was a change from the girl trying to stop myself and her mom.

After dessert and cognac (it was great, and I do not drink as a rule), we retired to that same living room. With the drapes drawn, the only light was an indirect mercury bulb in the built-in bookshelf. The two women sat on the Italian sofa, while I was again on the loveseat. As we were in partial darkness, we had that special feeling that people get in the dark, speaking freely. 

Eve said: "I know that my husband tried to screw you; it's not that we need the money; we don't. It really is a sport with him now. He is so used to cheating customers, big and small, that he's lost all conception of honesty. Speaking of honesty, I married him for money, and I stay with him for money. So to be honest, I would love, absolutely love, to dump him right now and run off with you. But, again to be honest, I am not going to. What I will do is have him service me when he gets home, under the guise that I was so 'horny', I missed him so much. That will give you and I cover if I do get knocked up."

I said: "God, thank you. To be honest, I was going to pull out and make your daughter happy, but when you locked me in, I was even happier. The feeling of giving you all of my seed, pumping your married unprotected, fertile vagina full with my babymaking sperm, thinking about that weasel husband of yours, well that was the most satisfying moment of my life. And even though it might make a mess of things, I am still a man...and I pray that I got you pregnant, and that you will give birth."

Eve said: "I don't know how I feel about all of this, but I swear to you...on my honor...if you got me pregnant, I will carry it to term...and I will give birth. Just the thought of carrying YOUR child while that sissy chrome-dome boasts that it is his would be worth the price of admission."

I said: "Call me sentimental, but I would like to see you, somehow, around that time. I know that you would hate the feeling of 'sneaking', but your cellphone would allow you to quietly signal me when he comes, goes, everything. Once he left, I could visit the baby...our baby...whether it was with you or in the observation nursery. Either way would be fantastic!"

Candy said: "God, what IS it with you and the older generation; sentimental? Preferring having a baby to aborting it? Who needs a rugrat, anyway?"

Eve said: "Do you see what I have to put up with? So where will my grandchildren come from anyway? She already has her million dollar trust fund set-up from her wealthy grandfather. The ironic thing is it is only triggered when she settles down and starts her own family. So, it is her childish attitude that keeps her tied to my apron strings."

I made the 'come over here' finger sign to Eve. To my relief and delight, she came over and sat on my lap. I then whispered:

Me: "Does that trust require her to be married or just to have her own family?"

Eve said: "Her grandfather did not consider the possibility that a woman would just have a baby out of wedlock, so it did not specify. I think I know where this is going..."

I said: "Okay, are you on board with it? She said that she was the exact same as you on her cycle calendar. If you help, it will look a lot less threatening than if I do it all myself."

Eve jumped off my lap. I had no idea what she was going to do. She looked at Candy and the time. 

Eve said: "Sweetheart, I think it is time that we all retire to our respective rooms. Good night dear." [She bent over and kissed her on the forehead.]

She winked at me. She continued: "Our beloved plumber Rich will sleep here and leave early tomorrow for a 6am start job. Good night, all."

Eve knew that her daughter watched at least two hours of TV to get super tired before nodding off. She timed 'our arrival' for this crucial time.

Sure enough, two hours later, she waved me over to Candy's room. She whispered to her 18 year old daughter: "Candy, sweetheart, Rich can't sleep on that hard loveseat...can he just snuggle with you, just for tonight?"

To her mom and my relief, she said sleepily: "Sure mom...as long as he just wants to sleep. I'm too tired for anything else."

Eve kissed me fully on the lips and whispered "good luck" as she left the room.

Now, dear reader, you are probably thinking that I would just do 'my thing' now that she was absolutely exhausted and not on her guard. Why not, even her mother expected and wanted that. However, that was not what I was about. I would be in her bed, and there I would stay until morning, that one time. If she wanted to avail herself of this utility then so be it.




Drilling Deep



Birds. I never had a position on them. But on this day, a little song bird perched right outside Candy's window, waking her before I awoke. She was shocked that this 'hunk', this huge masculine presence, was in her bed. Then, she dimly remembered that her mother asked if I could sleep there.  She hopped out of bed, about to get showered and dressed. But, then, looking back at me, she smiled. She thought to herself: "Well, it won't hurt if I just take a peek..." She shyly lifted the sheet, noting that I was totally nude. She gasped when she saw that I had 'morning wood', my trusty ten inch steel hard drill at full size. Her hands reflexively went down to her feminine opening, her fingers probing to search for release. Her eyes closed and she moaned as she contemplated my huge phallus. One of her moans woke me up.

I got up as her eyes got wide, both excited and apprehensive. I came up to her, nude, my morning wood bobbing suggestively. She put out her hands, to fend me off. She said: "Please, umm, Rich, please don't make me...don't force me. I don't want to...I'm afraid, to be honest."

I got closer. We were so close we could almost share breath. I knew that her mom wanted me to 'be with her'. I knew that I wanted to 'be with her'. I think that even she wanted me to 'be with her'.

I said: "You win, Candy, I'm leaving. I just want to be 100% sure you have no interest...is that fair?" [She nodded] Sweetheart, let me have your hands." [She offered her petite hands] 

I put one of her hands on my shoulder and one holding my 'morning wood'.  I let go, permitting her to run away, hold still, or whatever. To my delight, her hand on my lengthy pride and joy started keyholing it, ever so slowly and lightly. The other hand went to the edge of my broad shoulders, and then followed the sweep of my arm muscle, squeezing the huge bulging bicep. Her hand lingered there while her other hand sped up the exciting up and down motion. She was now locked on. Her upper hand now fell to cup my swollen sack, re-filled over night with another huge reservoir of babymaking sperm. I closed my eyes, my head rearing back, ready to explode. Then to Candy and my astonishment, Eve stepped in.

She pushed her daughter aside, pulling her hands off of my manhood.  She gently pinched the cock right below the big, uncut, head, her other hand backing that up by gently pinching the base of the cock.

She scolded both of us: "I don't want you wasting his precious seed on the wallpaper, young lady. If you choose to make love to this heavenly hunk, then do it properly. If all you want to do is play games like a teenager, then let your mom make better use of all of that wonderful sperm swimming in those swollen globes of manhood." She hoisted my heavy with seed balls and then let them fall, swaying several swings until they came to a stop.

What a decision Candy had to make. She knew that she didn't want her mom there, so she pushed her out of the room. Taking total command of the situation, she grabbed me and pushed me back with a thud onto her bed. On all fours, she swung a beautiful, tanned, shapely leg over me and then centered my ten inch cock with her free hand. My cock entered the warmest, tightest, most welcoming place in the universe. Her head went up and eyes closed as she moaned in pleasure. My eyes were locked shut, as I could only feel with my sensitive uncut cockhead. My manhood made its inexorable advance inside her unprotected womanhood. As she fell upon me, impaling herself on my mammoth member, my rough ended cockhead was dragged along her sensitive vaginal walls. When it finally hit bottom, the impact curved my cock, pointing it squarely at her cervix. 

She now had to decide whether she wanted my very potent seed, saved up over night, multiplied many times over in the same way my morning wood achieved full size and steel hardness...she had to decide it she wanted that torrent of babybatter to fill her fertile womb, risking almost certain pregnancy. With my manhood literally making an impression in her, the coiled snake completely occupying her womanhood, she made her decision. She kissed my lips harder than I had ever been kissed. She bent over my ear (if her mom was eavesdropping), whispering that I should feel free:

Candy: "Please, love me, now, don't worry about anything else."

I said: "Are you sure?"

She kissed me again, even harder. Well, I didn't need a sixteen color printed invitation. I grabbed her rock hard athletic behind, holding with an iron grip, and pumped, and pumped, and pumped my pent-up seed deep inside that eighteen year old young woman. Her insides must have had vibrant, healthy sperm dripping off every pubic inch, with her reproductive parts absorbing the bulk of it. 

I rolled off her totally exhausted. I got up, then bent over that beautiful lass, thanking her for letting me love her. As I left, sure enough, her pesky mom was there. I heard them argue. Her mom pushed her back on her bed, forced her knees up, put a pillow under her pert bum, and told her to watch TV but to sit there for one solid hour. To be honest, I was flattered that they took the care to give me the best chance at impregnating them. 

What sweet revenge this whole thing was. I got paid for the job as planned. My attorney then informed me that there were sanctions against the customer written into our contract, allowing me to recover the 50% for alterations that the little bald weasel owed me. After legal costs, I ended up with an extra $100,000 after tax. Better yet, to spite him and to fulfill an ultimate fantasy of mine, I had made mad passionate love to a super sexy mother and daughter. The 'spite' part was that they happened to be HIS wife and daughter. Oh well, my bad. 

While he was out on another corporate junket, I had fucked his wife, in his own kitchen. I had pumped as much potent seed as I could, determined to knock up that bastard's legally married wife. What sweet revenge to have her belly swell with my child, not his. 

Later that night, about midnight, Eve (his wife) had led me to her daughter's room, getting me situated in her bed. She went to her own marital bed where, hours after our passionate kitchen encounter, she conceived my baby. 

The next morning, I had challenged his unbelievably lithe, healthy, fit, daughter, making her decide whether she wanted me to leave or love. She chose a middle solution, just coming, until her mom stepped in and put a stop to it. Holding my cum back, she demanded her daughter either use my seed properly or yield it to her (Eve, her mom). Candy then pushed her mom out, threw me on the bed, and proceeded to love me more hotly than I'd ever been loved. I left and her mom interjected herself, making her daughter sit vigil for my baby. 48 minutes later she conceived also. 

I left that house. I would return, to be sure. 

Whenever that weasel was out of town, one of them would twitter or tweet, or whatever medium they chose. 

I would come a running, or was it run a cumming? We had a good thing going for five years. Candy ran off and got married, her new husband not being able to check calendars, thinking my baby was his. 

Better yet, Eve had Maurice thinking that he had become a major stud, and that his two or three pitiful droplets could actually generate the baby boom in their household. It was such sweet revenge to fill up his house, including the costly extension he had to add (with the plumbing done by guess who?), with baby after baby, making them pour out of Eve's incredibly fertile womb. So, after he tried to cheat me down to making a small loss on his project, I ended up with $150,000 clear, plus he was caring for and supporting a huge baby boom of my doing. Well, everyone loves a happy ending, don't they?



Drilling Miss Daisy



Daisy took her time dressing for the party. She wanted to look sexy and provocative. Her braless tits and hard nipples poked shamelessly through the tight red cotton top cut above her pierced belly button. A tiny black skirt barely covered her ass cheeks. The eye shadow was heavy and the lipstick bright red. 

Daisy stood in front of the mirror and smiled. The girl staring back at her had that "fuck me" look she wanted to achieve. Not that Daisy was planning on getting fucked. She wasn't that kind of a girl. She just wanted to make Randy Martin regret having dumped her for Monica. Daisy might not be a blonde with big tits but hers weren't bad and her ass was as tight as anyone's.

Daisy had been especially hurt because Randy was only the third guy that she had ever let fuck her. She was just getting over a long term relationship when her best friend Gloria introduced her to Randy. He seemed like a really nice guy. She foolishly let him fuck her on their third date. The next day he dumped her for that slut Monica.

Gloria had come up with the idea for making Randy pay by having Daisy dress provocatively for the party. Daisy was nervous about doing it, but was determined to pull it off. If it was a slut he wanted then so be it. She was planning to flaunt her body and flirt shamelessly. Daisy was going to put on a show that would make Monica look like a nun. 

Daisy was a little self-conscious when she saw the look the taxi driver gave her. Acting like a slut was not in her comfort zone. She smiled and gave the driver the address. When he pulled up in front of the house Daisy was surprised that there weren't more cars. It was late enough for the party to be in full swing. She didn't really know the people throwing it. They were friends of Gloria's.

Daisy decided to call Gloria to confirm the address. She searched through her purse and found that she had left her cell phone at home. The cab driver was getting impatient. Daisy paid him and stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the house. She couldn't hear any music. Something wasn't right.

Daisy looked at the address on the slip of paper Gloria had given her and confirmed that she was in the right place. She cautiously approached the front door and knocked. A good looking hunk in his mid twenties wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt opened the door. He was big and powerful like a football player. His blue eyes scanned her outfit.

"Can I help you, Miss?"

"Um... I'm here for the party. There is a party, right? Gloria invited me."

He gave her a strange look.

"Oh yes... the party. Well, Gloria is not here yet, and you are a little early, but you are welcome to come inside and wait. I'm Mike."

She introduced herself and entered. They walked into the front room. There were four other guys, all well built, sitting on couches and chairs watching a basketball game. None of them seemed dressed for a party, and no one else was there, but he did say they were coming didn't he? Mike introduced her.

"This is John, Ray, Brian and Dave. Guys, this is Daisy. She is here for the party. Gloria invited her. Look why don't you take a seat while I get you something to drink. I'm sure the others will be by soon."

Brain and Dave made a space for her between them on the couch. She hesitated. Something wasn't right. She pulled down on the hem of the skirt, but it still rode most of the way up her thighs. Her nipples were poking shamelessly from her top. Daisy could feel all four sets of eyes undressing her. She was getting nervous and hoped the others would show soon. 

Mike fixed her a drink. It tasted sweet and fruity. He turned off the television and put on some soft music. Out of nervousness she drank quickly. Mike refilled her glass. She drank that as well. All of a sudden she got dizzy. Her head was spinning. Everything in the room became a blur. 

A hand touched her thigh and slid up her leg. Another cupped her breast and squeezed the soft flesh through her top. The hand on her thigh slid under her skirt until she could feel his fingers brush against the crotch of her panties. She pressed her thighs together trapping the hand between her legs.

"Wha... what are you doing," Daisy said groggily.

Mike, who was behind her, tilted her head back. He leaned over and kissed her. His tongue probed into her mouth. Daisy knew this was all wrong and that she should stop it, but it was like she was dreaming and powerless to do anything. Besides, she was the one that had dressed up like a slut. Wasn't she just getting what she had asked for?

Her top was pushed up over her tits. Two hands squeezed her naked flesh. The hand wedged between her legs cupped her pussy. His fingers pushed against her panties and rubbed her slit. Without really thinking Daisy opened her thighs. It was like her body was responding to his touch on its own. Something deep inside wanted this.

The crotch of her panties was pulled aside. A finger slid along her gash which was already slimy with excitement. She felt it slide into her steamy passage. Daisy spread her legs even further. She moaned when a second finger was pushed into her body. She felt a rush of pleasure surge through her loins. A distant voice echoed in her ear.

"What a fucking slut. Look how much she loves it."

Daisy kept trying to focus her mind to stop this madness but it was impossible. Her body was on fire in response to the way it was being touched. She did want more. She found herself squirming against the fingers in her pussy and moaning into Mike's mouth. Both of her nipples were being pinched and squeezed.

Someone pulled down her panties. Daisy's legs were lifted in the air and spread apart. A tongue parted her folds. A pair of lips covered her swollen mound. She broke the kiss with Mike to see what was happening. Dave's face was buried between her legs. She gasped when his tongue pushed into her opening. 

Daisy's head was still in a fog. She looked around and saw Brian and Ray standing naked on the couch with their hard cocks waving in her face. Brian leaned forward and brushed his swollen knob against her cheek. Daisy turned her head and saw the veins bulging from the hard flesh only inches from her lips. He grabbed her head and pushed his cock into her mouth. 

Brian fucked her face with hard deep strokes. Daisy gagged each time he slammed it against the opening of her throat but he had a firm grip on her head so she couldn't pull away. He went faster and faster until spit was drooling from her lips. She gasped for air when he finally pulled out. Seconds later Ray turned her head and shoved his cock into her mouth.

Dave pumped two fingers in and out of her pussy while he munched on her clit. Daisy could feel pressure building in her belly. She humped his face and moaned around Ray's cock in her mouth. She was going to cum, something she usually did only with great difficulty. Her body was already shaking as the pressure continued to build.

Her pussy exploded. Dave clamped his lips around her mound and drank the juices flowing from her gash. Her screams were choked out by the cock stuffed deep in her mouth. Spit flowed from her lips and chin drenching the cotton top stretched up above her tits. Daisy was still shaking when Dave pulled his mouth from her pussy. 

Ray finally pulled out and slapped his cock across her face. Daisy coughed and gagged trying to catch her breath. Brain climbed off the couch and stepped between her legs. He lifted her knees into the air and guided the head of his cock between her pussy lips. He found her opening and plunged. His hard meat speared deep into her belly. Daisy threw her head back and gasped.

John climbed onto the couch where Brian had been standing and rammed his hard cock between her lips. Brian continued to pummel her pussy. She could feel his hard meat drive deep into her belly on each powerful thrust. Everything around her was spinning out of control. Daisy struggled for air. She could feel the pressure of another orgasm building in her belly. She was helpless to stop it.

The explosion rocked her like an earthquake. Daisy felt every ounce of energy rush to her pussy. Her body tensed. Her fingers dug into the flesh of Brian's arm. John's cock fell from her mouth. She jerked and bucked against Brian trying to drive him deeper. A scream pierced the air and then another. Her pussy clenched in a series of spasms around Brian's thrusting member. 

Daisy was trying to catch her breath when Brian pulled out. He rolled her limp body over until she was on her knees with her elbows propped on the back of the couch. Ray moved behind and slid his throbbing meat between her ass cheeks. She gasped when it plunged deep into her belly.

Brian moved around the couch and shoved his dripping cock between her lips. The pungent taste of pussy filled her mouth. Ray slammed her body forward with each powerful thrust of his cock driving her mouth down the length of Brain's shaft which stabbed at her throat. He grabbed her hair and fucked her face hard and fast. 

Daisy was having difficulty keeping up with the two cocks pounding her body. She gagged and choked on Brian's hard meat as it tried to pry open her throat. Spit drooled in strands from her lips and chin. Ray's cock plunged deep into her belly again and again. Juices streamed down the insides of her thighs. His balls slapped wetly against her clit each time he drove into her.

Daisy could feel her world spinning out of control. The pressure in her belly was building to another orgasm. Her pussy clenched and twitched against Ray's thrusting cock. She felt Brian swell between her lips. He grunted and thrust hard. She choked on the stream of hot cum that splashed against her throat. It came shooting out of her nose.

No one had ever cum in her mouth before, but Daisy really didn't have time to think about that. Spurt after spurt of thick cum drooled out from her lips. Ray continued to pound into her gushing pussy. He thrust deep and grunted. Daisy could feel the warmth from his cum spread through her belly. Her whole body tensed. Another explosion ripped through her gut.

Brian's cock fell from her lips. A flood of cum drooled from mouth and ran down her chin. Ray pulled out of her pussy. She could feel his seed running down her thighs. Dave moved behind her and plunged his hard meat into her cum-filled chamber. John stepped in front of her and rammed his throbbing cock between her lips. They found a rhythm and slammed relentlessly into her two orifices.

John grabbed her head and thrust his cock deep. Daisy felt her throat being pried open by his long cock. She gagged and choked but he didn't let up. She struggled to get away but he held her tight. His cock pushed into her throat. She had no choice but to find a way to accommodate him. She relaxed and felt her urge to gag slowly dissipate. He pushed deeper. His pubes tickled her lips.

Dave pounded her pussy hard and deep driving his cock up against her cervix on each powerful thrust. The cock down her throat finally pulled out. A huge gush of spit fell from her mouth as she gasped for air. The cock in her pussy slammed into her so hard she could feel her body being jerked forward on each thrust. Another orgasm was rapidly building in her belly. 

Her body was trembling when something warm splashed against her cheek. John aimed his cock at her face and sprayed spurt after spurt of thick cum across her forehead, up the side of her nose, over her lips and into her hair. Seconds later the cock in her pussy swelled. Daisy screamed. More cum filled her pussy until it was streaming down her thighs.

Daisy collapsed onto the couch still shaking. Cum was drooling down her face and dripping from her chin. More oozed out from her pussy onto the cushion. Daisy slowly opened her eyes. Everything was still out of focus. She looked around the room. There were four naked men standing in front of her. Did she really just have sex with them or was she dreaming? She was so confused

Mike sat next to her and wiped the mess from her face. He lifted a glass to her lips. She swallowed the sweet liquid that filled her mouth. Daisy felt like she was floating. She could see a girl that looked like her sitting naked on the couch with a skirt bunched around her waist. Had someone kidnapped her body?

Mike pulled down his shorts. He put his hand on the back of her neck and pushed her head down towards his lap. Daisy gasped at the size of the monster draped across his thigh. It was huge and wasn't even hard. It had to be a dream, she thought. No one could really be that big. 

He pushed her face lower. Her lips brushed against his warm flesh. Daisy put out her tongue to see if it was real. It twitched and grew even bigger. She curled her fingers around it. It certainly felt real. So did the desire that throbbed in her loins and pulsed through her nipples. Her body had never felt so alive. She no longer cared whether or not she was dreaming.

Daisy slid her mouth up the vein-streaked shaft. She swirled her tongue across the mushroom-shaped tip lifting the oversized knob to her mouth and stretching her lips around it. She felt him grow even bigger. He pushed deeper. When his knob pressed against her throat more than half his length was still exposed.

Daisy tried her best to pleasure him with her mouth but it was a hopeless task. He was too big and her mouth was too small. Even her fingers were no longer able to encircle his girth. She concentrated her efforts on his knob sucking it in and out of her mouth while she swirled her tongue across the tight skin. Her hand pumped up and down his shaft.

Mike grabbed her head and fucked his cock up into her mouth. His swollen knob slammed against her throat. Daisy choked and gagged trying to keep up with his thrusts. Spit poured from her lips. It drooled down the length of his shaft and over her fingers. She tried to take him deeper but he was just too big.

Daisy felt someone slip two fingers into her dripping pussy from behind. Daisy squirmed against them. Her moans were muffled by the huge cock stuffed in her mouth. A third finger was pushed into her overheated flesh. Ripples of pleasure pounded in her loins. Her pussy twitched in a series of spasms.

Mike rammed his cock into her mouth faster and faster. Spit flew from her lips and splattered across his thighs. He slammed her head down against him each time he thrust up into her mouth. Daisy felt his knob punching into her throat. She desperately needed air and struggled to break free but Mike wouldn't let go of his tight grip on her head.

The fingers in her pussy were pulled out. One of them slid between her cheeks and pressed against her tight sphincter. Daisy winced when she felt it twist into her body. This was a new sensation. No one had ever touched her back there. The pressure was almost unbearable but there was nothing she could do to counter it with Mike's cock still slamming against her throat.

The finger in her asshole went deeper and deeper twisting and turning inside her until it was buried to the knuckle. Daisy gagged and choked on the cock in her mouth as she struggled for air. The pounding in her head was so intense that she thought she might lose consciousness.

A second finger was shoved into her asshole. Her body stiffened. Her sphincter clenched as Daisy tried to fight the unbearable pressure throbbing inside her bowels. The two fingers dug inside her dark passage stretching it wider as they plunged in and out of her body. Daisy tried to relax but it was impossible. She was quickly fading into darkness. 

Before the world went black Mike pulled her up by the hair. She coughed and choked struggling for air. A flood of spit poured from her mouth and over his cock. She was vaguely aware of the fingers being pulled from her asshole. Something big and hard and round pressed against her sphincter. 

Daisy was trying to catch her breath when Mike slammed her mouth back down on his cock. He forced his knob into her throat. She forgot all about the pressure against her asshole and concentrated on the cock that was choking her. She pushed her tongue down the underside of his shaft and tried to relax. Despite his size he finally slid past her gag reflex and into her throat.

Daisy slid her mouth down his shaft working him deeper and deeper until she felt his pubes against her lips. Moments later Brian pushed the knob of his lubricated cock through her sphincter and into her asshole. Daisy winced from the unbearable pressure in her bowels. 

Brian pushed his cock deeper. Daisy wanted to scream and struggled to pull free. Mike held her head firmly in place with his huge shaft buried deep in her throat. Tears streamed down her face. Brian's cock continued to plow deeper and deeper into her dark passage. Daisy thought he was going to rip her apart. He shoved the last inch into her quivering body.

Daisy thought she was going to pass out. She tried to breathe through her nose but couldn't get enough air. Brian held his cock deep inside her throbbing asshole. The intense pain slowly subsided as she adjusted to his size. Daisy felt her body relax. Brian slowly moved inside her. The pressure was still intense but not painful like before.

Mike finally pulled her mouth off his cock. She took several deep gulps of air before he rammed his cock back into her throat. Brian fucked her asshole faster and deeper. The pressure in her bowels slowly morphed into a pleasurable throbbing. It felt good. So did the cock in her throat. 

There was something so dirty and nasty about what she was doing. Her pussy pulsed with excitement from having a cock down her throat and another up her ass. Daisy slid a hand between her legs and found her clit. The throbbing in her loins continued to grow. The pressure in her belly became intense. 

Daisy wanted more. She moved her ass against Brian's thrusting cock trying to drive him deeper. Her mouth bobbed up and down Mike's shaft. It punched into her throat again and again. She felt Brian drive deep into her asshole and grunt. Hot cum pulsed from his cock and filled her bowels. 

Her orgasm hit like a thunderbolt. She jerked and twisted in a series of convulsions. Daisy plunged two fingers into her pussy. Another orgasm ripped through her body. She lifted her drooling lips from Mike's cock to catch her breath and gasped when another spasm gripped her insides. Brian pulled his spent cock out of her sphincter. Cum oozed out of her asshole and down her thighs.

"Let's see if we can fit this big cock into your tight fuck-hole," Mike said pulling her into his lap.

Daisy swung her leg over his muscular thighs and perched her pussy just above his throbbing meat. He guided it between the pink folds hanging out from the gash splitting her swollen mound. She felt his enormous knob press against her opening and stretch her as he pushed inside. She pushed back and felt him go deeper and deeper stretching the walls of her cunt.

"Oh... oh god... aaaahhhhhhhhhh..."

Before he reached bottom Daisy had another orgasm. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders. She lifted up and slammed down hard against him. His cock plunged deep into her pussy. She felt it bounce off her cervix. She screamed as another orgasm tore through her body. Filth spilled from her mouth as she transformed into someone she didn't know.

"Fuck me... harder...shove you big cock up my cunt... yes... do it... fuck me..."

She lifted up and slammed down on his length again and again. Her cries of pleasure shook the walls as one orgasm after another ripped through her body. Daisy was trying to catch her breath when someone moved behind her and pressed his cock against her asshole. She looked back at the intruder. It was John.

"What... no... it's too much... they both won't..."

Before she could finish John rammed his cock up her ass. She tensed thinking that he would rip her apart. The pressure was almost unbearable with Mike's cock still buried deep in her pussy. Mike began to move in rhythm with John. Daisy was surprised at how quickly she adjusted to the two cocks stuffed in her body. She screamed as another explosion shook her world. 




Drilling Miss Daisy



Daisy was still gasping and screaming when John grunted and filled her bowels with cum. He pulled out. Ray's thick cock quickly filled her empty asshole. Mike's hard monster continued to pound her pussy while her ass was getting fucked. Daisy's screams were out of control as one orgasm after another sent her to places she had never been.

Dave stood on the couch and slid his hard cock between her lips. Daisy eagerly sucked it into her mouth, but had a hard time holding it there between her moans of pleasure. She now had three cocks in her body at the same time. She loved it. Daisy had become a slut. She couldn't get enough cock.

Ray thrust deep into her bowels and grunted. Daisy tensed from the pleasure of another huge load of cum filling her asshole. Her pussy clenched around Mike's huge cock. The ensuing orgasm sent her spinning into another dimension. She was barely conscious when Mike pushed her off his cock. 

"Let's see if this will fit up your ass," he told her. "Stand up and turn around."

Daisy stood on wobbly legs and turned around. She straddled Mike's thighs with her back to him. She felt his huge monster slide between her cheeks and press against her well fucked asshole. The huge knob slowly forced her sphincter to open as more pressure was applied. She tried to pull away but his grip on her was too tight. Suddenly he was inside her. She had never felt so much pressure.

"Just relax babe. I'll let you do all the work."

She pushed down against him and felt his cock go deeper. She pulled back and pushed some more. Eventually she was able to get his entire cock up her ass. Although the pressure was intense, it did not hurt. Soon she was riding his cock and slamming down hard against him driving him deep into her bowels. Dave stepped in front of her and pushed back her legs.

This time she didn't mind taking two cocks at the same time. Daisy helped guide him to her pussy. Dave and Mike hammered her in both holes finding a rhythm that had her screaming and shaking from the pleasure surging through her body. She was about to pass out from too many orgasms when Mike's cock swelled inside her asshole. At the same time Dave grunted.

Jets of hot cum exploded into her pussy and ass at the same time. she went into orbit. Daisy went spinning into another dimension. Her body bucked and jerked in a series of violent spasms. Her fingers dug into Dave's chest. A piercing scream reverberated through the house. Everything went black as she drifted off into another world.

When Daisy opened her eyes she was fully dressed and lying on a couch. Mike was sitting in a nearby chair. No one else was there. She looked at him with a confused expression and rubbed her head which was throbbing.

"Wasn't there supposed to be a party here tonight? This is 254 River Road?" 

"Yeah, 254 East River Road."

She reached into her purse and pulled out a scrap of paper. She shook her head.

"Ohmygod. I was supposed to go to 254 West River Rd. Shit. What happened anyway?"

"I should ask you the same thing. You showed up here looking for a party. I offered you a drink and then you passed out on the couch. I guess you're not used to drinking."

She sat up trying to clear her head. Everything was a little foggy. Bits and pieces were slowly coming back.

"But weren't there others here. And didn't we..."

Her words trailed off as she remembered what had happened. Mike shrugged.

"Yeah, my roommate and some friends were here watching the game, but they left a while ago. And didn't we what?"

"Um... I thought we... are you saying that nothing else happened... that I dreamed we... um... you know..."

Mike spread his hands and shrugged his shoulders.

"Some people think that our lives are really just part of a dream and that nothing is actually real, but who knows."

She could still feel her asshole throbbing. No dream could do that. Daisy knew that she should be upset but she wasn't. Her body had enjoyed every minute of the experience. She wasn't the same girl she had been when she arrived. Every nerve ending was still tingling with excitement. She had crossed a line and there was no going back. She didn't want to go back.

"You may be right. Do you think that if I came by next week and knocked on the door looking for a party that I might have the same dream?"

"I can almost guarantee it, Daisy."

She smiled and stood. She had a party to attend. The night was still young and who knew what might happen before the sun came up in the morning.

"I better get going. Could you drive me over to the party? I'm sure it's in full swing by now. You're invited. It might get interesting."

"I'm sure it will. Let's go."