The Heat of the Night

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Proper 1880s housemistress literally lets her hair down.
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Topeka, Kansas, 1880. It had been an unmercifully hot summer that June, with days of 100 degrees and nights almost as hot. The Kimpards were one of the last great flourishing ranching dynasties of the Old West.

Calvin Kimpard had taken over the family ranch, Robrey (named for its originators, his great-grandparents, Robert and Audrey Kimpard). Eighty years later, Calvin, his wife Cecelia, and their three children oversaw the ranch with an iron fist and admirable efficiency. They had several negroes employed to work their vast cotton, tomato, bean and onion fields, crops that netted the family substantial wealth and prominence. To the residents of Topeka, the Kimpards were THE Great American Success Story.

Cecelia Kimpard (née Endicott) was an Easterner at heart. The raven-haired beauty of English and Finnish origin came to Kansas in 1861 (when it was granted statehood), at age 19, from Virginia. There, she met a tall, extremely handsome young man of twenty at a cotillion. Not satisfied with societal pleasantries alone, she slyly trailed the flaxen-haired young man with the chocolate-brown eyes until the two young people consummated a night of fire-hot passion in a gazebo by the moonlit river. Three months later, the now pregnant young woman was newly christened Mrs. Cecelia Endicott Kimpard. Six months after that, a son, Calvin Jr., was born, followed by daughter Angelica in 1867, and a second son, Jonathan, in 1871.

The family was prosperous and well-liked by all, including their workers. Ethan Smith, their Black foreman, came to them after escaping a lynch mob in 1876. At 26, he was a large, powerfully muscled man whose well-toned form sparkled in the sun akin to an ebony statue. The family was taken to his gregarious laugh and tall tales, and he was a close bodyguard to the Kimpard children, whom he adored. More so, his eye more than occasionally wandered towards his mistress, whose lithe, nicely-proportioned body belied the fact that she had borne three children. It was a lust that had to be (obviously) well-hidden.

The summer of 1880 had been both a sad and joyous one, however. The elder Kimpard's mother and father had perished in a fire in their Alabama mansion, prompting a saddened and bereaved Calvin to prepare their three children for the trip south for the funeral. Cecelia had been in delicate health for the past two months, due to the fact that she was carrying Calvin's fourth child. At 38, her health would be complicated during the trip, and at Calvin's insistence, she stayed home, to be tended to in the house by Eloise and Isabel, her trusted nursemaids.

Late one evening after tending to their mistress, Eloise and Isabel went up to their quarters to sleep, leaving Cecelia, at her own insistence, in the kitchen to finish baking pies for the church luncheon the next day. At nearly eleven in the evening, the young pregnant woman should have been asleep. But baking and cooking were tasks she relished with a passion. As she peacefully hummed to her unborn baby, there was aloud, fierce banging on the kitchen door. Alarmed, but worried that someone could be in danger, she cautiously approached the door and called out "Who's there?"

"Me, Miss Cecelia," a voice slurred on the other end.

"Ethan? Ethan, are you alright?" the concerned housemistress asked as she unbolted the door to let in the seemingly disoriented man. As Cecelia turned the knob, Ethan bolted in the kitchen like a flash of lightning, the strong, pungent odor of whiskey and cigars clung to his body, sweat drenching his bald head and beefy chest.

"Oh my God Ethan! What's wrong with you? Are you drunk? Cecelia asked, horrified at his imposing, inebriated nature.

"No time for words, Miss Cecelia. I been needin' this, now I'm bout ta get it," Ethan panted as he grabbed hold of Cecelia's waist and swung her pregnant body over the kitchen table. Cecelia Kimpard was thunderstruck as Ethan Smith, her family's foreman and protector, ripped off his perspiration-drenched coveralls, exposing a 50-inch chest, pure muscle. He pulled them down to his ankles and stepped out of them, revealing an unbelievably muscular and well-defined body. His was a body that was kept well-toned by many days of hard work.

Overcome with fear, Cecelia parted her pouty lips to scream, a pair of lips that were covered with a massive hand. "No need for that, miss. I'm givin' you what you KNOW you want," Ethan said in a drunken, lust-filled state. Cecelia softly whimpered in the tablecloth as her dress became untied and her petticoat wound down around her ankles.

"Stop! Stop right now at once! My husband will hear of this and you'll be strung up immediately!" housemistress Kimpard wailed.

"I don't care!" Ethan hollered. "I want that good shit you keep hidden under 'dis here," he barked as he yanked off her girdle and panties, exposing a perfectly-shaven pubic area and a glistening vagina. "Oh yeah, miss, you gonna love 'dis!" Ethan panted, and with one fluid stroke, he smacked Cecelia's wet pussy with a very hard hand that made her shudder uncontrollably. "Yeah, I know, miss. I been a man who always took what I want. Now I want that pink snatch of yours," Ethan grunted as he balled up his huge fist and practically jammed it into Cecelia's shimmering sheath.

"Ooooohhh!!!!" Mrs. Kimpard cried as her husband's Black foreman butchered her wet pussy with his right hand, pulling his fist in and out.

"Take it, miss. It ain't nothing compared to what you 'bout to get," Ethan grunted as he rammed his large hand in and out of Cecelia's swollen pussy. After a few more minutes of violating her throbbing vagina with his massive digits, Ethan pulled his hand out of Cecelia's wet folds and replaced the hurting sensation with his whiskey-soaked tongue.

"Aaah, aah, ooh," Cecelia cooed as Ethan's tongue played with her delicate vaginal walls. Thoughts of her family, her loving husband and her children came and went as her body experienced magnificent sensations that Calvin never produced. "Aaaarrgghhh!! Oh my God! Oh Ethan!" Cecelia wailed as her ass-naked Black handyman lapped at her savory labia.

"Oh yes! Oh that's good!" Ethan shouted as he brought his sweaty face up from his master's wife's lusty box. "I knew you needed this, miss," he breathed as he prepared to fuck her musky snatch.

"Fuck you, boy, I need THIS!!" Cecelia screamed as she grabbed hold of Ethan's rock-hard footlong. Deliriously, Ethan subjected himself to Cecelia's furious sucking and slurping. No teasing there. She immediately took his fat, hard log in her needy mouth.

"Oooohhh, Miss!!" Ethan cried, oblivious to the sleeping nursemaids upstairs. The woman alternated between slathering his throat clogger and his egg-sized nuts with copious amounts of saliva. "Oh yes! That's so good!" the naked stud wailed as the pregnant beauty sucked his big black dick. Ethan threw his head back in ecstasy as Cecelia's bountiful breasts pressed against his large thighs.

She devoured his manhood for a few more minutes until she panted, "Pleaseeee!!" Ethan knew what that meant, and swiftly propping Cecelia up on the kitchen counter, he drove his erect penis into her needy vagina. Pumping away at her nether region like a madman, perspiration poured off of his face and onto her heaving breasts. She gripped his thickly honed forearms as he bucked and brayed like an ass in heat.

Cecelia involuntarily wrapped her slender ankles around Ethan's neck to the point of choking as the dark-skinned rapist filled her moistened, desperate cunt with his salty, lust-filled sex juice. Cecelia, overcome with an excitable deliriousness, slowly wiggled her spent body off of the counter, falling instantly into Ethan's bear-like grasp. No words were spoken as Ethan carried the much-satisfied, doubly inseminated housemistress to her bed, and then he took off to his shed to retire for the night.

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marine55rickmarine55rickover 17 years ago
Another great story....

...but you MUST finish it!

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