The Filly & The Stud Ch. 01

"What are you...what are you..."

"Enjoying your lovely body. Relax and enjoy it too, you little slut." He kissed her again, and she could not help but moan as his big cock dragged across her sore clit. It felt damn good, he knew what he was doing, going in circles in her, touching all her deep spots.

"Please....please....."

"You want some more of this?"

Her ass had not yet fully returned to its natural state, and the juices running out of her pussy must have lubricated it, as he pulled out, and pushed himself back into her most sacred spot. She cried out, her eyes getting big at the sudden invasion, and he thrust himself in and out with deep, slow, hard motions of his hip. "You like that, you little ass whore?"

"Ahhhh...aahhh..." She could not respond, her mind reeling under the feeling, her eyes screwed shut as she orgasmed again. Then he was in her pussy again, pounding it, before he pulled out, and came all over her stomach.

"Come on, my little sex toy." She felt his arms enclosing her, and then he walked her into the bathroom, sitting her down on the toilet. He had to hold her, then help her into the shower, where he gently washed and caressed her, kissing her, holding her close to him as he gently rubbed her body.

"Where are you aunt and uncle?"

"The horse show in Asheville. They won't be back until Sunday."

She leaned into him, his hands all over her, the soft cloth feeling so good in his hands as he lathered her up, holding her, rinsing her down, then lathered her up again. He took his time washing her arms and shoulders, then scrubbing her back, her tits and stomach. It felt so good to be held, to feel wanted, and she didn't resist when he started rubbing her pussy, teasing it, the suddenness and strength of the orgasm that hit her surprising her. He washed her there as well, then her legs and feet, kissing them softly and sucking her toes.

Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped her in a thick towel, drying her slowly, kissing her body all over as he went along, holding her in his arms. When he pushed her back down on the bed, she moaned out, begging him for mercy. He laughed, then undid the towel and massaged her back and legs, rubbing her with lotion, and she felt silly for thinking that he would attack her again. But she felt his tongue at her ass, and when she looked back she saw the lust in his eyes. Her night was not over yet, and she knew it.

Finally he wrapped her back up, then led her downstairs, sitting her down at the massive table that formed the edge of the kitchen. Windows surrounded the breakfast corner, and she remembered the other times she had sat here, having been invited into the home of the McKoy family on several occasions. When he put a plate in front of her, the smells enticed her to open her eyes and admit that not only could he cook, but he could present as well.

"Where you a chef in the navy?"

"No, a diver." He brought a bottle of wine, popped the cork, and poured her a glass. "Hope you didn't have any plans that I kept you from tonight." With a nod of his head he indicated the clock on the wall. It was already half past eight, but she only smiled and shook her head.

"Well, I was going to have plans, but then my boyfriend...well, ex boyfriend, said I was crazy."

"I think you are..." He slid onto the bench next to her, wrapping one arm around her, and kissing her softly, toying with her tongue. "...crazy for cock."

"I think you are crazy for pussy."

"Only yours. You have no idea how long I've been trying to find out how I could get up your skirt."

She giggled, then they ate in silence, the only other noises their occasional soft kisses. He waited for her to be done, surprised by how hungry she was, then cleaned off the table, and they walked out onto the back deck, taking the wine with them. The sun had dipped behind the horizon long ago, but the lighting out along the fence line, on the far side of the house along the gravel road, and in the barns combined to form a sort of soft ambient lighting, as they sat on the over-stuffed couch that rested underneath the gazebo, the towel coming off again, and his hands roaming her body.

"You are a very beautiful woman."

"You are kind to keep saying that..."

"I mean it." Sucking one nipple into his mouth, he pulled her onto his lap, and she felt his hardness through the shorts he was wearing. "I'm going to have to show you again."

"Not again! I'm sore!"

"Tough." Pushing her down on the couch, he held her struggling hands over her head, kneeling between her legs and kissing her, as he tied her to the couch with string from the cushions. She cried out as he bit her again, then he was between her legs, and she felt his tongue pushing into her.

It was a divine sort of feeling, almost like flying, of total nothingness, as he sucked on her clit, nibbled it, licked it, teased it, caressed it, brought it out and toyed with it. She was bucking into his mouth, straining against her bonds, begging for him to stop, and for him to never quit at the same time.

He was as skilled at this as he was in all other areas of love making, taking his time to fully get her wet, nibbling on her lips as his hands played with her tits, sucking and toying with her clit, flicking it, tattooing it with fast jabs of his tongue, leaving her breathless and aching for more. It was a feeling not to be denied, a heat that she had never felt before today, a yearning and a longing for cock and sex that reduced her to begging for it.

So she did not object to him gagging her a bit with his cock, did not stop him when he untied her, pulled her onto his lap, and spanked her until her ass was red. And more than willingly she flipped onto her stomach, even though he told her that there was a good chance she would get it up the ass again. She did not care. She needed his big fuck stick in her pussy.

So he took her, wrapped his arms around her, held her down, bit her like the stud he was, and fucked her pussy, fucking her senseless. She had never been dominated by a man like this, had never had a man push himself on her, take her, kiss her, fuck her, make her want more and more.

Her pussy was on fire, her insides felt raw, and the combination of pleasure and soft pain was driving her mad, making her scream and thrash about as he filled her with his dick, pulled and pinched her nipples, and rubbed her pussy. His voice was harsh in her ear, telling her what she knew, telling her what a slut she was, and how she was going to get her ass reamed again before he would let her leave. She heard him telling her that she was his slave and his whore, and she could not believe that she was agreeing, that she was begging for the harsh treatment he was giving her, asking for more and more of it. The nasty words echoing in her mind drove her up the wall, and when he finally filled her with more of his cum, she shuddered with her own release, not wanting it to be over.

Slowly he pulled back, pulling her into his arms, and kissing her. "You know you aren't leaving tonight."

"Yes."

"Well, come on then." Taking her hand, he led her back inside, up the stairs to his room in the back of the house. She followed him like a good submissive woman, knowing fully well what awaited her in that room. Her ass tingled with the anticipation.

This time it was the sun that woke her, tickling her face through the big windows at the back of the room, bringing consciousness to her mind, and awaking the aches that she felt. He had forced it up her ass again, against her will, had made her take it, made her beg for it, her pussy craving the pleasure, and her mind unable to stop itself from demanding more from him.

She had never spent a night like that, loving another until they collapsed from exhaustion, glued together by sweat and other body fluids, her vagina throbbing and on fire, and she was sure his cock felt the same way. He had screwed her senseless, over and over and over, in positions she had never even heard of or dreamt of before. But clearly, putting her on her stomach, and jacking her ass up was his favorite one, the one where he felt the most dominant, and where she felt the most helpless before her powerful lover.

Stretching, she realized that the bed was empty, looking around for the man who had made last night so enjoyable. The last thing she clearly remembered was him cradling her in his strong arms, softly kissing her all over, telling her to go to sleep, that he would take care of his little girl. She had not slept so well in years, and she had not felt him slip away.

When she stood, it was on unsteady legs, and she was surprised to see that it was already eleven o'clock on the red read out of the alarm clock sitting on his nightstand. But true, they had been doing it until probably three in the morning. She had never sucked cock so much in her life, but she had never been eaten so long, either. He had a most powerful and skilled tongue, that one.

There was a robe on the back of the bathroom door, and after a quick pit stop, she slid into it, about to walk out of the room in search of the young man when something stopped her. Walking back across the room, she pushed open the door to his closet, and peered inside. A set of navy Dress Blues was hanging at the far end, wrapped in a thick, protective plastic bag, shielding it from dust, mildew, and moths.

She had seen uniforms like this before, and for a second, she felt a pang of guilt and pain. Her particular swan song had been in summer whites, and her shoulder boards had been stars, not crows with stripes.

He was an EOD Diver, she realized as she studied the warfare device. Why was that such a big deal? The ribbons were a bit harder to read, she had never studied those as closely as she should have. National Defense, and Global War on Terrorism (Service) were easy, everybody had those. Good Conduct, two Navy Achievements Medals, a Life Saving Medal, Combat Action Ribbon, and she did not recognize the rest. Was that a Purple Heart? Impressive, she thought. All that, and he was what...Petty Officer 2nd Class? Not bad.

"What are you doing?"

His voice was a sudden interruption into her world, and she spun around, instantly feeling guilty, even though she was not entirely sure why. He was standing at the door, dressed in the same boots, jeans, and hat, but now with a long sleeved black t-shirt to go with it, advertising the benefits of Harley Davidson ownership.

"Nothing, I was just..."

The anger on his face surprised her, as he came towards her, and slammed the closet shut. "Do I dig through your shit?"

"Ahh, no...."

"I think it's best you leave." Without hesitation he turned and walked out of the room, pointing to her clothes, neatly folded on top of his dresser. She did not understand, but she slowly got dressed, and then headed downstairs.

The parking lot was about as full as one would expect on a temperate spring time Saturday, with kids running this way and that, the picnic tables on the far side of the barns all full of people. The little concession stand was open, and she could see the other "Ranch Hands" moving to and fro, tending to the horses and the customers as she stepped off the porch of the house.

David was standing in the parking lot, rolling his head back and forth, and occasionally talking into the radio that he kept tossing from hand to hand. He seemed to know everybody that climbed out of a car, truck, or van by name, greeting them all with a friendly smile, and promising each kid the greatest ride yet.

But she saw more than that as she stepped down. She saw the way the women looked at him, even the older girls, saw how they surveyed his arms and chest, that great ass in his jeans as they passed, saw how they smiled and flirted as much as they could in front of husbands, boyfriends, and parents, and then moved on, happy for their short moment. And she was jealous, felt possessive.

Walking up to him, she pulled out her car keys, gently touching his shoulder as she passed. "Can I call..."

"No."

"David, please..."

"I have work to do."

But before he could walk away, she grabbed his arm. He turned to face her, and she stuffed her business card, with her home phone number, cell phone number, and email address hastily scribbled on, into his hand. "Please?"

She didn't wait for a response, but dropped into the deep blue CL, backing up, and slowly rolling towards the road, where she revved it up, and shot towards home. He watched her go, but it was hard to see how upset she was from the outside looking in.

Unfortunately for her, the therapy of driving was unavailable if you live down the road and around the corner. The garage opened on silent command from the car as she approached, the brick house sitting silently on the acre-sized lot, awaiting her return home.

As soon as she walked in the door, Liger and Tiglon were there, jumping up and down, howling as if the world might end. Her bad mood instantly got worse, as she realized that the cats had not been fed since she left home yesterday morning. Cursing herself and him, she headed to their room, and remedied the situation. Their water fountain was still good, but she refilled it as well, then did the litter box, and decided that since she was this far, she might as well go all the way.

After getting dressed in sweats more appropriate to the situation, she cleaned the whole house, which always had a calming effect, then climbed on her riding lawn mower. A fenced in back yard had been a must when she had been looking for a house to buy, and the country club that the her home was located in had gone one better than she had expected with what she had gotten at closing.

The original plan for the house had called for the entire property to be walled in, with the house sitting right smack dab in the middle, and an additional wall cutting the compound in half, forming a front and a back yard. The stone walls would have been ten feet high, protecting the gazebo, pool, and volley ball court to be constructed from prying eyes. Unfortunately the man who had all these great dreams went broke when the tech bubble burst, so she had gotten the house for a pittance. Since the wall was already contracted, she had managed to have it reduced to a more manageable six foot privacy fence that only enclosed the back half of the property, which allowed the two fool cats to run lose when they needed to heed the call of the wild, but only Tiglon would come outside when she was mowing the grass.

She had found the spotted tabby on the side of the road three years ago, coming home from work. The cat was barely alive, and would not have lived through the night, suffering the severe after effects of the kind of headache that only a collision with a car will cause in a small animal. She had rushed him to the animal hospital, where they had managed to save his life, but his right ear and eye were missing, along with parts of his skull. Apparently the parts that held the fear section of his brain, because he loved to sit on her lap, still as a mouse, and ride the lawn mower with her. He also loved road trips, but that was a whole separate issue.

Once the lawn was finally done, she walked inside, debated, relented, changed, and went out for the run she had planned on doing this morning when she had woken up. It was mid afternoon by the time she got back, soaked in sweat, realizing for the first time that marathon sex the night before definitely affects how you run the next day, sometimes in positive ways.

Angie, her neighbor of almost three years, must have been watching for her to come back, because almost precisely an hour after walking through her door, there was a knock at the kitchen door, and the older lady was standing there with two massive margarita glasses. She was always at least patient enough to give her friend a chance to shower and become presentable again.

"Happy Saturday!"

"Is that the occasion today?" It was hard to not like the infectious woman, who seemed to always be smiling, constantly half drunk or medicated, and just supremely happy in life.

"Sure, why not? I saw you out there running; I thought I was going to have a heart attack! Honey, if I looked half as good as you, I would not torture myself like that!" She made an exaggerated gesture of wiping her brow as she slid onto one of the chairs that lined the breakfast bar. "So..."

"Yes..."

"What's going on..." Angie gave her the raised eyebrow, the look rather anxious.

"What ever do you mean?"

"Don't play innocent with me, hussy! I know you didn't come home last night!"

"How do you know that?"

"Rich came back from a business trip last night, and I was up until two in the morning waiting for him. No lights, no car, no nothing. And then I got up this morning to walk over to the wives coffee at the club house, and as I turned on Pine tree, I saw a rather distinctive looking German made car come down the road."

"Yes, mother, I have been caught!" Jennifer laughed as she dug through the fridge to find the rest of the dip she had made recently, then opened a bag of chips, and placed both between them. "Ok, so what?"

"Well...the desperate housewife wants the scoop!"

Jennifer laughed again, taking a sip from her drink. Her friend really only used the mixer for color, and the ice for texture. Alcohol was the backbone of her mixed drink adventures. "I got lucky last night."

"Really? With who? Not that snotty Markus guy, I hope?"

"No, Markus and I broke up, remember." She shook her head. Angie always made mountains out of the molehills of her relationships. The woman had birthed and raised three sons, bless her heart, and to her, Jennifer was almost the daughter she had always wished for. Except that her daughter would have been married by now.

"Right...and rightfully so! I'll give him one in the kisser if I see his ass around!" She shook her fist at the imaginary boyfriend, her face contorted into a mask of anger and defiance for a minute. "But anyways...so who was it?"

"Somebody else."

"Oh come on, have I ever spilled your secrets? I can't believe you would hold out on me like that!" She put on her best "hurt-feeling-face", and Jennifer sighed, relenting.

"You know the horse farm..."

"Oh god, Jennifer!"

"NO! Ew, that's gross! Come on! You want me to tell you or what?"

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry." Her face showed it, and Jennifer sighed, continuing.

"The owners, I know them fairly well, they have a young nephew who is working there now. He apparently just got out of the Navy, and he's so hot! So hot! And well...apparently he wanted a piece of me."

As she said it, she suddenly realized what had transpired last night. David had come onto her! He was the one that had asked her to come out to the fence, the one that had basically raped her against the fence pole! He was the one who had placed the blanket upstairs in the loft, fully intending to make her watch the horses, to get her all worked up, to fuck her senseless in the hay. She was not sure if he had been aiming to keep her there all night, but that much had been premeditated.

She tried to reconcile time and space in her mind, but there was too much haze, too much time spent beneath a body that was hammering away at her, making her go off like a rocket. Maybe he was just a good cook, and pulled that meal for two out of his ass, or he had planned that too. But no matter what, it was undeniable that he had been ready for her when she showed up, and she had fallen into a trap set by the studly young man with a desire for a virgin ass, a tight little pussy, and a woman who apparently was in desperate need of the sexual domination he was offering.

"What's wrong?" Angie's voice tore her back to the present, and she shook her head, leaning against the counter.

"Nothing...I just realized something..."