Southern Comfort

The summer sat hot and sticky on my skin, and the heavy scent of magnolias lingered in the air. Don't ask me why I decided to move to Georgia in the middle of the summer; I was temporarily insane, I think. I waited for the real estate agent to show up, outside of the house that I wanted to buy. One thing you could definitely say about the people around here; they weren't in much of a hurry, to do much of anything. A procrastinator extraordinaire myself, I could appreciate that trait, but only to a point. An hour and a half late was pushing it, even for me. Finally, a beat up station wagon came bumping into sight, a large cloud of dust following close behind. "Mercy sakes! I am so sorry!" were the first words out of her mouth.

She smoothed her skirt as she exited the car, and screwed her hat down a little tighter on her giant bouffant hairdo. "I hope you haven't been waiting too long honey!"

"No, just an hour or so," I replied, with a grin. All I had was time, I suppose.

She dug around in her purse until she produced a set of keys, and then motioned me to follow along, "Now you watch yourself on these steps, honey. They aren't in the best of shape." We made our way inside, and she immediately hurried over to the windows to throw back what was left of a ragged set of curtains. Sunlight came streaming through the dusty panes, casting a warm glow over the hardwood floors. That was all I needed to see.

I had fallen in love with this house while driving the back roads of this little town, but when I saw how the warmth seemed to radiate here, I knew this was the place; I was home. She showed me the rest, although it really wasn't necessary. I somehow knew this house by heart already, and couldn't wait to get started fixing it up. It needed some serious help, but I was ready.

I followed her back into town, to her small office, and signed the papers that made that little farmhouse mine. She was absolutely beaming when she explained to me that I was her first real estate sale for over 5 years. There wasn't much of a market around here, but she had always kept hope that it would start growing. "I am going to need help with some of the repairs around my place. Do you happen to know of anybody who might be interested?" I asked her, as I gathered my papers up.

"Well, let's see...I can't think of anybody off hand, but I'll keep my ear open. I'm sure we can find someone to lend you a hand, honey...don't you worry," she smiled and handed me the keys to my new home, as I got back in my truck.

The next day, I started cleaning up the place, blowing fifty years of dust and cobwebs out, washing windows, and scrubbing every surface I could reach. I was in the kitchen, on my hands and knees, scrubbing the floor, when I heard someone clear their throat. I jumped like I was shot, and let out a yelp. "Easy, girl," I heard him say. His voice was like velvet. No, actually more like whiskey; strong, smooth, and so intoxicating. I turned around to see him standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking down at me.

He had a grin on his face that made me wonder just how long he had been standing there, watching me. I scowled at him, and blew a wisp of hair out of my eyes. "You know, where I come from, it's customary that people knock before they just let themselves into a stranger's house," I snapped at him.

"The name's Jonathan Fischer, but folks 'round here just call me Big John, ma'am." He tipped his hat and grinned at me again.

I glared at him, and replied, "Cassie. My name is Cassie, not ma'am."

"Well now, I guess we ain't strangers anymore, are we?" he chuckled. "What is it that you want, Mr. Fischer?" I asked. "Mizz Jenny down at the real estate place told me that you might be needin' some help 'round here; and I'm just the guy for the job," he answered, with a nauseating amount of self-assuredness.

I surveyed my prospective handyman, and agreed that he was definitely a well-built specimen...gotta love those stocky Southern boys. He was fairly tall; taking up a good amount of the doorway with his barrel chest and broad shoulders. His arms and hands were tanned and weathered, and scarred from what looked like years of hard work. You could tell just by looking at him that he was strong as the day was long. "What's your rate?" I asked.

"I usually charge $65 an hour for carpentry and the like.", he replied.

"Sixty-five dollars! Are you kidding me! That's highway robbery! I can't afford that!" I whined. He raised his eyebrow and stared me down. A chill went straight up my spine, and a thousand butterflies took flight in my stomach.

"I reckon I could cut a pretty lady like you a deal," he continued, a wicked grin spreading across face.

"Don't do me any favors," I snarled, and went back to scrubbing my floor.

"Suit yourself, ma'am. But I don't think that those steps out front are gonna fix themselves, if you know what I mean," he replied.

"I will figure it out on my own, thank you very much," I mumbled under my breath.

He turned and headed for the door, but then stopped. "What IS it with you people?" he asked, clearly perturbed at being rejected for the job.

That was it. I can tolerate a lot of things, but being called out by some smart mouth redneck did not happen to be one of them. "YOU people? What exactly is that supposed to mean?" I asked him, as I got up off the floor, and to my feet.

He turned back around, and replied in a long, low drawl that cut like a knife through the tension in the air, "All you city slickers come here, lookin' to find somethin' that ain't here. And, while you're here, you try to set all of us hicks straight, with your fancy words and high dollar hopes that you want for nothin'. Well, I'm here to tell you Mizz Cassie, that I'm gettin' real tired it. What gives you the right to talk to me like that?" He took a step towards me, and I stepped back, not liking the tone of his voice one bit. I slipped on a soapy spot and fell to the floor, landing hard on my backside.

I was still regaining my bearings, when I felt his hand around my arm, pulling me back up. I tried to break away from him, but his grip was strong and unyielding. I looked up at him, and his eyes seemed to burn right through me. They were a beautiful green, but the look they held was menacing and hot tempered. I struggled against him, but he held on tight, and just stared at me. Something about the way he looked at me made my insides quiver, and I knew when he looked me over that he could detect my desire, because of my body's reactions to him. "Traitors," I thought to myself as I felt my nipples getting hard and pressing against the thin fabric of my t-shirt. He pushed me backwards, and up against the kitchen counter, still holding firmly to my arm. I never broke eye contact with him, and I never let him know I was scared to death, even though my heart was racing wildly in my chest. I could scream, but I knew it wouldn't do any good, since my house was at the very end of a long dirt road.

He picked me up and set me on the counter, forcing my legs apart, so he could stand between them. He was so close to me now that I could smell his sweet musky scent, not at all like I had expected. He had dark hair that was in need of trim, but sexy in it's own right. His thick mustache framed his mouth, and traveled down to his chin; just like something straight out of the old west. He didn't say another word. He grabbed my arms firmly, his rough hands providing a delicious sensation on my flesh. He crushed himself to me, kissing me hard, forcefully. I tried to turn away, but his mouth was locked firmly to mine, his tongue forcing my lips open to accept him. He tasted of Coca-Cola and chewing tobacco, a sickening sweet flavor that was so new to me. He began grabbing my breasts, pinching hard on my already sensitive nipples. I moaned and pressed myself against him, surrendering to his assault. I could feel myself getting so wet, and caught the faint scent of my desire in the air between us. He must've caught it too, because he stared me down and then snarled, "You little slut. You think this is a game? I'm gonna show you what it really feels like to be used; what it feels like to be taken for granted." And with that, he pulled me off the counter, and yanked me upstairs, to my bedroom.

Once inside the doorway, he grabbed a hold of a handful of my hair, stopping me in my tracks. "Get on your knees, bitch," he growled. I gave him my best "Go to Hell" look and then waited for the storm to begin. He grinned, and yanked on my hair a little more. As he traced the outline of my lips with one rough finger, he said softly, "Ah, my little wildcat. I can't wait to fuck that pretty mouth of yours. Maybe then you will understand your place 'round here." He pushed down on my shoulder, forcing me to the floor. I landed on my knees, and waited. No matter how much my brain screamed out in resistance, my body fought back with animalistic lust that I had never felt before. I wanted him to have his way with me. I wanted to surrender to his demands. I watched as he unzipped the fly of his jeans, and unfastened his belt. His hand reached in and pulled out what had to have been the largest cock I had ever seen, and it wasn't even completely hard yet. I felt my pussy quiver, in hopeful anticipation of having that monster buried to the balls inside of me.

He traced the head of his cock over my lips, still holding tight to a handful of my hair. I decided to push the envelope, and tried to bite him, as he went over my lips. He responded by grabbing my hair even harder, and slapping me in the face with his now very hard cock. "You better mind your manners," he said, slapping me in the face again. I had barely opened my mouth, just getting ready to ask him "or what?" when he shoved his cock in my mouth, muffling any response I might have had. I could hardly get my mouth around him; his size was stretching my lips to the limit. I acclimated quickly, and looked up at him, waiting for his next command.

"Well?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and pulling on my hair again. I started to slowly circle his shaft with my tongue, making him nice and slick. Then I took him completely in my mouth again, and started sucking him like I was starving. He growled long and low, "Oh fuck yeah...I knew you would be a good little cock sucker." His other hand fisted in my hair, and pulled my head in, and he started fucking my mouth like mad, jamming his cock all the way down my throat. I fought off my gag reflex, and tried to pull back, but he continued his assault on my mouth, undeterred. I could tell by his breathing that he was getting ready to cum, as he pulled my head in one final time. He moaned loud as he released a torrent of hot, thick cum into my mouth. "Swallow it, sweetness," he demanded, "All of it." I heeded his order, feeling it slide down my throat and tasting the saltiness on my tongue. I looked up at him again, hoping for praise or some sort of recognition for my obedience to my handsome stranger. "You're a nasty little bitch, aren't you?" he asked, clearly pleased with my performance. I said nothing, simply smiled and ran my tongue over the head of his cock again, collecting the last of the cum that oozed out. He groaned again, and pulled me to my feet.

"Get undressed," he said. I complied, even though it was so against my nature to be ordered around like this. I peeled off my t-shirt, and slid my shorts and panties down, letting them drop to the ground. I stood there, exposed in every way imaginable, to this man that I had met only an hour ago. He directed me to the bed, and pushed me face down onto the mattress. As bad as I hated to admit it, I could feel my pussy seeping, preparing for the oncoming attack. His hands went to my hips, pulling me up to my knees, with my face still buried in the thick comforter. I felt him slide one finger inside my pussy, then another, and then another, stretching me wide open. I heard him chuckle softly, as he felt my wetness. "From now on, this pussy is mine, got it?" he said. My response was difficult to decipher, through the bedding. "You belong to me. Anytime I want a piece of this beautiful ass of yours, I'll take it. Do I make myself clear?" he asked. I couldn't say anything, the comforter blocking any argument I had.

He slid his fingers out quickly, leaving me feeling empty and hollow. That emptiness was quickly replaced, however, when he shoved his cock into me, with one swift movement. It took my breath my away, and tears stung my eyes. His hands went to my hips, and he proceeded to fuck me like an animal, hard and fast. "You like that, don't you? You like being fucked by a good ol' boy. I know you'll never want anything else again, you like bein' my little slut, don't ya?" he said, as he pounded my pussy mercilessly, burying himself inside of me. I could feel his balls slap against my clit, giving me just the tickle I needed to start cumming hard, all over his cock. The rush of fluid he felt when I came drove him over the edge, and he filled my pussy with his second load of the day.

He pulled out and squirted what was left on my lower back, letting it dribble down the crack of my ass. Panic started to set in, when I realized what would probably be coming next. He grabbed my ass cheeks, pulling them apart. I felt his finger start to rim me, and eventually pushed its way inside of my ass. I clenched my teeth and then cried out; the pain was more than I could take. I heard him chuckle again, and then say, "Well, THAT doesn't surprise me. I had a feeling your tight little ass was virgin." My heart started to race, when I heard him say that. He pulled his finger out about halfway, and then shoved it back in, making me yelp again. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Now, don't you be gettin' all wound up, girl. I'm fixin' to save that for another time; but make no mistake, I WILL have it. That hole is mine too." He pulled his finger completely out, and then nudged my shoulder, laying me down on my side.

I watched him, as he stripped off the remainder of his clothes and lay down on the bed next to me. "Clean me up; get all this cum off of me," he said, holding his softening cock in one hand. I got up to my knees again, and began to lap our juices off of him, licking him clean. I took him in my mouth again, and lazily circled my tongue around his cock, that was now completely soft. "Mmmmmm...." he groaned, "That's real good." I was still sucking on his cock when he pulled on my thigh, making me straddle his face. I felt his tongue lapping slowly at my pussy, and then suddenly he started sucking on my clit, making my hips buck wildly. "Cum for me, darlin'...Cum for me." He didn't have to ask again. I flooded his mouth, and glazed his mustache with my juices. I dropped to my stomach, exhausted. He turned around to face the same direction as me, and put his arm around me, cupping my breast and squeezing my nipples hard. I pressed my backside into him, feeling his cock right at the entrance to my pussy. He pulled me in tight, and we both drifted off, napping the rest of the morning away.

I awoke later that afternoon, with a sore pussy and cum running slowly down my thigh, and the sound of hammering outside. I looked out the window, and saw him, half done with repairing my front steps. Guess I'm going to get my porch fixed after all...

*

Many thanks to my editor, DragonSlayer_OK, for his invaluable contributions to my writing...his efforts are greatly appreciated!

If you enjoyed this story, by all means, let me know! I welcome your comments, good, bad or indifferent.