College Co-Eds of the Corn Pt. 01

COLLEGE COEDS OF THE CORN

Part I: The Stradlin Massacre

The townspeople of Stradlin, Nebraska did not, at large, perceive the change when it happened, though there was one family in-particular on the edge of town who understood a change had occurred even if they did not understand the full extent of the moment's implications.

The family's youngest son, Isaac, had just turned eighteen. In fact, Isaac was the youngest person in the town that day, with the few younger people who called the small town of Stradlin home having gone to a Bible camp a few towns over less than a week earlier.

Thanks to this fortuitous confluence of events, Rebecca Chroner chose this day to walk down Main Street Stradlin with a heavy leather book cradled in her arms. Wearing a long black dress with a white bonnet that covered her black hair, Rebecca drifted silently up the sidewalk until she reached the Cornstalk Café. She paused by the window and turned to look in, a pious look on her face as she looked down her nose at the patrons inside.

Hank Letter was sitting in a booth with a clear view of Rebecca when she stopped outside the diner. The owner of Letter's General Store across the street, he frowned as she blocked his view of his store's front entrance, which he had been watching to look for any customers so that he could head across the street if and when he had to.

"There's that weird Chroner girl," Hank said with a shake of his head, looking back down at his plate and hoping she moved on quickly. "I do wonder what goes through that girl's odd little head."

Hank's daughter Rachel sat across from him, her dark hair tied up in a bun. She turned to look at Rebecca standing in the window, catching a slight nod aimed in her direction.

"Excuse me, daddy," Rachel said, wiping her mouth with her napkin. "I've got to use the bathroom."

"You wanna use the one over in the store?" Hank asked, gesturing with his fork past Rebecca.

Looking over her shoulder again, Rachel noticed someone walk into her father's store and said, "Actually, sure. I'll be right back."

Rachel stood up and exited the diner, nodding quickly at Rebecca before crossing the street towards her father's store.

A few moments after she had left the diner, the front door opened again and five young women entered. When Hank looked up he immediately figured them for a few girls from over at Bachman University, the girl's college on the other side of Richard Stevenson's farm.

When his daughter had graduated high school two years earlier she'd gone straight to helping work Letter's General Store in addition to nannying for a couple whose kids were currently away at Bible camp, so it didn't occur to Hank to associate the girls gathering at the front of the diner with his daughter. This disconnect made it easier for him to slyly appreciate the sight of the out-of-towners in their variety of tight gym shorts and tighter jeans over the lip of his coffee mug despite the fact that not one of them could be any older than his own daughter.

The girls paused by the entrance, looking around the diner at everyone gathered inside. After a moment, one of them leaned her head out the door, made a gesture, and a sixth girl came walking in a few seconds later.

As they took their seats at a table by the entrance, Hank got a brief look at his daughter walking into his store. Bathroom's not a bad idea, he thought to himself as he lost sight of her. He stood up and headed towards the back of the diner, thoughts still tending towards the gaggle of unfamiliar girls behind him. Wonder how many lesbos that school's makin', he wondered, casting the prime examples in the Cornstalk Café into his pillow-fighting, soft-lighting, pant-tightening fantasy as he went into the men's room.

He flushed a little as he undid his zipper, tugging his half-hard penis out and looking around as though there could be anyone hiding in the tiny bathroom who'd catch him being a bit of a perverted old man.

Forty-one ain't that old, he told himself, his slight erection fading as he did what he'd come back there to do. Could still show those lesbos a good time. I'll just have to satisfy myself with the straight-as-can-be missus when I get home tonight.

Hank was just about to put himself away when the door opened behind him. His heart twisted for a second, as though it was someone who somehow knew what he'd been thinking while he was busy being an old pervert alone in the bathroom coming back there to call him out. He steadied himself, shaking his softening self as he turned to look over his shoulder--

--directly at one of the college girls standing with her back to the bathroom door, staring straight at him.

"Jee-zus!" Hank hissed, nearly shouting but not wanting for people to come running to see what was going on. He hurried to tuck himself into his pants, adding, "Wuddya think you're doin in here?"

"I came for that," the girl said, raising her eyebrows as she looked straight at Hank's crotch. "Don't be putting it away so quick."

Hank ignored her, zipping up his pants before turning the rest of the way to face the younger woman. She was tall, almost as tall as Hank, with perky little tits under a black tank top and just a hint of hips pressing against red shorts. Her hair was a combination of the two, dark with red highlights hanging down past her shoulders, framing a cute face with nice round cheeks and a wry, mischievous grin.

"You best get out of here," Hank said, avoiding looking at the woman as he skittered towards the sink.

"I think you best get that back out here..." she responded, following him towards the sink. She pressed her hands against the porcelain, leaning forward so that Hank got a clear look directly down her tank top at the pale curves of her breasts, just catching a hint of her little nipples in the shadows before turning his attention back towards washing his hands. He gritted his teeth, trying to keep himself from getting hard again as the young woman leaned in closer, holding her mouth near his ear and hotly breathing the words, "...so we can get it in there."

"Young lady, you-you're being... obscene!" Hank stuttered, backing away from her and knowing that if he didn't get out of the bathroom soon there would be no hiding the growing caliber of what he was packing. "You need to rethink your life!"

He hurried for the door, flinging it open and stepping breathlessly into the little nook at the back of the diner. Hank only allowed himself to pause a second before turning to hurry back to his seat, not wanting anyone to catch him in the nook with the lunatic woman he'd just managed to tear himself away from.

Hank had barely turned, though, before he came to a sudden stop.

The table at the front of the diner was empty of all the college girls now.

Instead, the other five women were spread out across the diner now in what Hank immediately realized had been a move of strategizing he could not possibly have predicted: one woman for every person in the Cornstalk Café.

This included old gray Will Cross and his son Bill, who when Hank had gone to the bathroom had been sitting opposite one another in a booth near the front window. Now they were pinned into their seats by a pair of blondes, Will getting ridden and Bill getting blown, a pair of shorts and a shirt on the floor beside their respective seats.

This also included Chuck Gamlin, the overweight trucker who now had his back pressed against the diner's counter, a redhead with her shirt rolled up over tits that looked like they made up half her bodyweight standing beside him jerking him off for the whole room to see.

This also included Dottie, a waitress for the Cornstalk Café, just graying in a streak at her temples but with a rack worth getting a couple of refills worth of coffee over; one of her breasts was hanging out of her waitress uniform, a young brunette with short pixie hair sucking on her nipple while a hand worked furiously under Dottie's skirt.

Not to be left out, Hank couldn't specifically see what was happening to Big Roscoe in the kitchen, but through the serving window Hank could see Roscoe's face clearly enough to know that it was something better than butter slathering his dick back there.

"What. The. Hell." Hank said, jaw dropping and eyes widening as he took it all in. There were enough distractions that his eyes had been across the room three times before he even noticed Rebecca staring at him through the window, still standing outside and watching with a stoic face the carnal acts occurring before her eyes.

"What the hell?" Hank repeated as he locked eyes with her. He thought for a moment that maybe he should go check on her, the one person in his field of vision who wasn't involved in some spontaneous promiscuity, but then he really looked in her eyes and wondered at the intensity he saw burning there.

Before he could make a decision about his next course of action, the bathroom door opened behind him. He jumped a full step forward as it slammed against the wall, spinning around just as the woman who had snuck into the bathroom with him made her way back out.

Hank's jaw dropped even further at the second sight of her than it had at the first sight as his eyes roamed all across a nubile body that had been made completely bare in the brief seconds since he'd escaped the bathroom. He kept looking at her firm stomach, finding it somehow more erotic than the healthy young breasts and the shadowy "V" his body strained to reach; seeing that stomach, though, free to stare at it, he imagined all the ways that those muscles could move her body on top of him.

"See? Nothing to worry about here," the woman said, taking a step towards Hank. "No one here's gonna judge you."

For a moment Hank nearly accepted her without further debate, setting aside his wife, setting aside the other people in the diner, setting aside normalcy. His hand even started moving towards the younger woman's body, fingers itching to run across that tense abdomen, but then he remembered Rachel, who he realized must almost be done across the street and would be coming back to rejoin him for lunch any moment.

Hank snapped his hand back and started walking backwards away from the woman. She followed, bare feet lithely slipping across the linoleum floor. After just a few steps like this Hank spun and started running for the front door, past Chuck Gamlin as his redhead knelt in front of him; past the Crosses as Bill's blonde mounted him; past Dottie as she shoved her pixie onto the counter, pulled her pale legs apart, and dove hungrily down on the younger woman's pussy. Hank shoved his way through the glass entrance of the Cornstalk Café and onto the sidewalk, stopping on the pavement to catch his breath with the assumption that the woman who had been chasing him across the diner floor wouldn't dare come outside.

He stood just a few feet away from Rebecca, unconsciously leaning away from her as he paused. Then, as he repositioned himself away from the peculiar girl, he saw Sheriff Polk lying back across the hood of his cruiser parked outside his office halfway down the block, recognizable only by his uniform top because of the bare-bottomed blonde sitting on his face and the entirely nude brunette bent over with her mouth buried in his lap.

"Sh-Sheriff?" Hank said quietly to himself, just then realizing the extent of what was happening in his hometown. He looked up and down the street, here seeing Hannah Whistler with her bare breasts pressed against the big glass window in the front of the bank while another woman pressed against her back with her fingers stuck up the teller's skirt, there seeing three firemen lined up against their truck getting a rotating train of blowjobs from three women in brightly-colored thongs, everywhere hearing moans and groans and shouts of pleasure rolling in towards him.

And then the naked woman that seemed to have been assigned to him stepped out of the diner and into the sunlight of Main Street.

"Rachel!" Hank muttered, turning and hurrying across the street. He passed by a car that had pulled hastily to the curb, Tom and Diane Miller sitting in the driver's and passenger's respectively, making out with each other while a long-haired brunette rode him and sucked on her nipple. As Hank passed their car he saw that there was another woman curling in through the open passenger door so she could lick at all the spaces between Diane's thighs.

With the sound of his naked woman's footsteps slapping the asphalt behind him, Hank burst through the front door of his store, locking it behind him and holding his hands against the door's edges as though the young woman might be able force her way through to get her hands on him.

Instead, she stopped, standing on the sidewalk outside his store and just watching him. Frowning, Hank called over his shoulder, "Rachel? Rachel, are you okay?"

He paused, listening, and that's when he heard the sounds over his own racing breath: slapping and moaning coming from the middle aisle.

"Noooo," Hank said, shaking his head and turning his back on the front door. He clenched his fists at his side, slowly walking across the front of his store until he was able to see down the center aisle.

And there she was, his daughter, his Rachel, completely nude and bouncing furiously on Jim Heller. Jim Heller, who he'd gone to grade school with. Jim Heller who had been a guest at his house for dinner and drinks semi-regularly, and who he bowled with on Tuesday nights down the street at Warner Lanes. Divorced and with a daughter Rachel's age living over in Hummerford with his ex-wife, Jim Heller was flat on his back with his pants off and his hands clutching Rachel's ass as it rose and fall on his lap.

"Oh, Daddy!" Rachel said in surprise. Surprise, but not fear. And she definitely didn't stop her efforts at the sight of him. "What are you doing here? Didn't -- hmm yesss -- didn't anyone find you yet?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Hank asked, confusion overwhelming his every response.

"Hmm daddy, you know what I'm talking about," Rachel said, leaning forward and pressing her hands on Jim's knees. "You have someone special out there for you. Go find her. You won't regret it. And... ooh yeah, that's good Mr. Heller... and you'll definitely have at least as much fun as Mr. Heller is."

"Get the fuck away from my daughter, Jim!" Hank shouted, stepping forward.

Jim looked at him, but quickly looked away, focusing on Rachel's naked back. "Don't yell at him, Daddy. At least not before you've talked to Mommy."

"Mom? What are you talking about?" Hank asked, stopped in his tracks.

"I saw her in the ba-ba-uhhhh-back! She was dropping something off for you, but she got -- caught -- up -- back there." Rachel bit her lip and looked over her shoulder, smiling down at Jim. "So did Jim's buddy."

"Lizzie?" Hank said, eyebrows furrowing. He looked towards the door that led towards the back office and storeroom. There was a hint of sound coming through the door....

Loathe to leave his daughter as she was but deciding he couldn't stand the sight anymore, Hank walked down the aisle by the register and stopped outside the back door. He could hear it now, moans and movements that didn't belong.

Hank pushed the door open and saw them immediately. "Jim's buddy" was Robbie Cobb, another graduate of Hank and Jim's grade school class. He was half-in the door that led to the narrow parking lot out back, leaning against the jamb on one side while he humped madly at a short, curvy college girl with dark tan skin who was leaning against the opposite side of the door. Next to them was Hank's wife, crouched against the wall on the tan girl's side, another woman with similarly tanned skin lying on her back on the hall floor with her face buried underneath the holes that Hank had considered his and his alone for more than twenty years. But more than just grinding on another woman's face, Lizzie had her hand reached out to hold onto Robbie's swinging nuts as he pumped them towards his personal piece of ass.

No one cared that Hank was there. No one cared about anything except the sinful pleasures they were receiving from this army of strange women that had flooded Stradlin.

Mind numbed but body responding to every shocking sight, Hank turned his back on his wife's crowded infidelities with a bulge forming in his pants. He walked silently past his daughter even as he heard her grunt, "Yeah, you gonna cum in my hole, Mr. Heller? You gonna cum in that tight hole? You gonna fill it right up?" He walked past her to the front door, where the same nude woman stood waiting for him patiently. As he approached, she pressed her bare breasts against the window, letting him see how they bulged against the glass. She licked the glass with the tip of her tongue, then turned and flattened her perky butt cheeks against the glass, bending over so that a drop of moisture from her bare hole reached the glass. When he started unlocking the front door she pulled away, trailing a clear thread of wetness that snapped when he flung the door open and stepped out to her.

"No more running?" she asked with a smile.

Hank didn't say anything. His brain, snapped by all the things he'd seen in his store, didn't even try to form words; he just pressed his hands on her smooth shoulders and shoved her down in front of him until her face was opposite the solid bulge in his pants. With a satisfied sound she unzipped his pants and reached inside to bring him out into the open. He looked down at the largest boner he'd had in years, visible only for a moment before it disappeared between the young woman's lips.

A groan escaped him and he fell back against the front window of his store. As her hot mouth slowly took in his full length, he could faintly hear his daughter saying over and over, "Fuck that hole! Fuck that dirty hole! Fuck it! Fuck my dirty little hole!"

Looking down, Hank grabbed his woman by the back of her head, shoving her down until he felt his cock squeezing down the back of her throat. She didn't fight back, instead holding herself there for several seconds longer, gagging on him even as he relieved his pressure on her head. She pulled back and he pushed her down again, wrapping his fingers in her hair and humping her mouth in ways he could never have imagined himself doing to Lizzie.

In the back of the store, near to orgasm, Lizzie decided to stand up off of the raven-haired younger woman's face. She shoved the other younger woman off of Robbie Cobb's dick, looking excitedly at how much bigger it was than her husband's. With a hiss of excitement Lizzie quickly positioned herself in the doorway so Robbie could switch over to fucking her.

Just as Robbie's rabid humping brought his wife to her first orgasm, Hank out front was pulling his cock out of his woman's mouth. He grabbed her by the shoulders and tugged her to her feet, guiding her to the old mailbox that stood outside his store. She leaned up against it without further direction, sticking her butt out and wiggling it back and forth while looking at Hank over her shoulder and biting her lip in a way that sent him into a frenzy. He dug his fingers into her hips and pulled them towards him even as he shoved his cock towards her. As soon as he was between her legs she reached down and guided him into a pussy so tight but so wet that his swollen head practically popped into it. He had to push his way in, listening to her rising moan until she squealed when he had disappeared completely inside her.

Jaw clenched, he began fucking her as hard as he could, the mailbox rattling beneath her as he pounded her body into it. He glanced away to see that the Millers had gotten out of their car and were stretched out on the grass nearby, linked in a ring where Tom was getting his dick sucked while licking a college pussy whose mouth licked Diane's clit while Diane licked the pussy of the woman sucking on her husband, a perfect, writhing, moaning loop of ecstasy. Back across the street Sheriff Polk had one of his girls on her back across the hood of his car, the other sitting on her colleague's stomach and squeezing Polk's face into her chest. There was a veritable orgy in the ice cream shop, all the younger locals already there joined by an equal number of college girls, all combining to fill the place with a cacophony of cocks, pussies, tongues, and hands working towards what sounded like a continuous orgasmic wave. One of the firemen had picked up one of their girls and was fucking her against the truck; the others had disappeared inside, presumably for similar efforts.