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***********************************************INTRO**************************************************************

The sun beat down hard on my neck. I looked over the endless feilds filled with wheat yet to be baled. My shirt was off, as per usual, and my tan was getting even deeper. Sweat rolled down my body like rain. It was the end of July, 1942. Wilson Pickett and I were the only farmhands left on the place. Jack had up and left with a girl and Bill was missing.

And so it was, Wilson and me, Jake, were the only ones out in the feilds. Bending over to pick up my gloves, I began to speculate. Since my seventeenth birthday in June, my dad had rented me out to Greg Rutton, rich owner of this farm. I got some of my pay, but most went to my pa. In return I lived with Wilson in the carraige house. It was a pretty sweet deal.

I stood up and and saw the sweetest part of the deal walking towards me. Wilson was on the baler, so I was the only one to see Lucy Rutton striding through the cut wheat, carrying a larger earthenware jug. She came up to me and I could see her slim body outlined undereath her cotton dress. Her blonde hair was long and straight; golden strands that hung down past her well-shaped ass. Her face was pale and beautiful, without a blemish, and large pert breasts stood proudly on her chest.

I smiled at her and she smiled back.

"Hello miss Rutton." I said politely. She handed me the jug, which was full of water.

"Hello to you too, Jake. And I told you, call me Lucy." She answered.

"Okay miss Rutton." I said, teasing her. She made a mock-angry face and punched me in the shoulder.

Ever since I'd got here, Lucy had always been freindly to me. She was a beautiful girl with a very noticeable personality. I found her irresistable. But. . . . . .the boss's daughter, and all that.

"Thanks for the drink." I said when I was finished.

"You're very welcome, Jake Mathews." She answered with a smile that nearly un-did me. My stomache seemed to do a strange flip inside me.

*****************************************************Chapter One************************************************

I sat up in my bunk, back throbbing from the day's work, mind racing.

"Will, what do you think of Miss Lucy?" I asked quietly.

Wilson, who was half asleep in his bed, answered, "She's a pretty one. That's for sure."

"Yeah, but. . . . . . .nevermind." I said. He soon began to snore.

I was dead tired, but couldn't sleep. I slowly, not even realizing it, slid off my bunk and dropped to the wood floorboards. I pulled on a pair of jeans and walked out, barefoot, into the moonlit Louisiana night. Not a hundred feet away, stood the stately Rutton home. I looked at its shadowy brick mass and knew that somewhere inside, was Lucy Rutton.


"Hello Jake." Came a whispery voice to my right. The tall locust trees shrouded the grounds surrounding the carraige house and the Rutton home, but I could still make her out. Lucy Rutton stood there in a dress that clung to her body. I remembered my shirtless appearance and wondered how dead I'd be if Greg Rutton found us like this. I coughed quietly.

"What are you doin out here, Miss Rutton?" I asked. She walked forward into a patch of moonlight.

"I fancied a walk on the grounds. Is that alright with you, Jake Mathews?" She stated in an imperious tone.

"That's fine, fine. I fancied a walk myself. But, I guess I'll be goin'. . . . . . . ." I turned to leave, but Lucy darted forward and blocked my way.

"Why are you so scared of me Jake? I aint never hurt. I never would." She said quietly, looking me directly in the face. Her body was deliciously encased in the tight sheer dress. Her breasts rose and fell with every breath. I swallowed.

"I know, it's just. . . . . .I feel for you things I shouldn't feel. I think of things that aint right Miss Lucy." I said.

She sighed in an aggravated way. "I feel for you too Jake. Why do you think I'm always flirtin' with you and bringin' you water?" She stepped in close until we were almost touching. "And if you don't mind, Mister Mathews, I'm gonna kiss you."

Our lips met with a fiery spark. Lucy's mouth was wet and open, tongue slipping (with presicion as if she were well practiced at the art) against my own stunned lips. I revived myself and responded, having never kissed anyone before. This was new territory. I looped one arm behind her and pulled her tight against me. My dick was already hard, a bulge in my worn jeans. She arched sinuously against my body, turning me on even more.

While we kissed she ran her hand between our bodies, up my leg, until she made contact with my rock-hard penis. She pressed on it and kissed me with even more ferocity.

My mind reeled. So much for the Upper-class manners. This girl was shameless. Half the rich boys in the state were after Lucy Rutton, and here she was groping a farm-hand? I dismissed the thoughts and moved my own hand around to her breasts.

They were soft and full, filling my hands with weighted silk, stabbing my palms with tight budding nipples. The men I'd been around had told me about all of this. They had underestimated it greatly. My mind was on fire.

She rubbed my pulsing dick through my pants as I squeezed her breast firmly. She let out a high moan as I did it, and arched against my hand.

We finally stopped the mutual groping and I stared at her tousled blonde hairand flushed face.

"Am I the first guy you've kissed?" I asked. She laughed quietly and put her hands on my chest, pushing me so I'd walk backwards. I was pressed against the tree now, in complete darkness. I couldn't see Lucy. I heard rustling cloth and nothing more. I was about say something when I felt a tugging on my jeans. My button was being un-done. And the slide of the zipper was audible in the night. I felt cool fingers slip in either side of the waistband on my breifs and then a quick sharp pull brought them down around my ankles. I was naked! My dick was rock hard and waved in the warm night air. Suddenly I felt Lucy wrap her hand around it. Pulsing with need, I asked again,

"Am I the first guy you've kissed?"

She laughed again, somewhere below me, "What do you think?"

I couldn't think, I couldn't move. Not after I felt half the length of my rigid dick slip inside a wet hot cavern. Her mouth was slick, so slick, and her caressing tongue slid over the underside of my shaft where it was most sensitive. My hips bucked reflexively and she began to move her mouth up and down my dick, sucking and licking. I was gasping for air, my hands buried in her silky blonde hair. She then wrapped her small hand around my shaft, squeezing hard. It followed her mouth, up and down, in and out. Fast and faster, I felt the slick friction of her tongue, the sweet pressure of her hand, the gliding kiss of her lips. Faster and faster until-

"Oh, God!" I half-shouted, half-whispered. I began to come, shockwaves of pleasure rocketing from my balls to my head. Sperm shot hard into her mouth. She stopped moving and I felt a curious sensation. I then realized she was trying to suck sperm out of me, so she could swallow it. This sent me even further over the edge, and I kept coming, jetting a bigger load of cum everytime until I was just spasming on empty. There in the darkness, Lucy Rutton gave me my first blow-job. In the shadows, I felt her move up my body.

She kissed me on the cheek and whispered, "Meet me here, same time tomorrow night." She gave my softening dick a squeeze. "And I might let you put your thing somewhere else." Giggling, she printed away, dashing through shadows and moonlight like some wicked fairy.

*********************************************************************************************************************

Lucy Rutton lay on her bed, twisting and turning. She was naked, her pale skin illuminated by moonlight. Sprawled on her back, she had two fingers furiously burying themselves inside her pussy, desperate to cum. She realized she couldn't. Not like this. She stopped and looked around, fevered with lust and desperate to orgasm. She soon spotted a candle on the vanity, about two and a half inches across, rougly eight inches long. She dashed naked to the vanity and grasped it. She took the butt end and examined it in the silvery light floating through the window. It was an unused candle, so the length was smooth. Her pussy creamed even more as she didn't even bother to go back to bed. Instead she put one foot up on the vanity table and reached behind her full ass with the candle. From behind, the candle pressed inside her dripping pussy. It was hard and unforgiving, but she wanted it so bad.

She pressed it in hard until abouth six inches filled her. Lucy was definitely no virgin. She moved the candle around, working every part of her wet cunt until she was feverish again. She began to fuck herslef with it, pounding in and out, moaning in her throat. She pictured Jack behind her, ramming his wet penis inside her dripping slit.

"Jack, oh God. . . . . . ..OH!" Her voice was a whisper, but the moans were almost to loud. Uncontrollably, knowing she was such a bad girl, she thought of her father, big and strong. She imagined him behind her, rocking his big dick inside her. This was her favorite fantasy. She'd never actually touch him, but. . . . . . . . .

"Oh Daddy, fuck me. . . . . .oh Daddy! Oh Jack!" she moaned to herself, the naughty language and even naughtier subject sent her over the edge. She slammed the candle deeper and began to rotate it as she came, clenching down on it in the throws of climax. Leaving her pussy dripping, she went back to bed. Under the covers, she began to rub her tired cunt. Tomorrow, there'd be no more waiting. She'd get what she wanted.
10 comments

anonymous readerReport

2013-07-16 23:05:40
Wow i was lovin it and gettin into then it was ruined by her moaning for her daddy while fucking herself with a candle and my boner went down faster then a japanese kamakasi

READERReport

2005-05-08 01:36:34
I LOVED IT!
I WACKED OFF AND CUMMED ALL OVER THE PLACE!

READERReport

2005-04-26 20:26:12
more more

READERReport

2004-09-11 07:35:31
Great blow job
give us some more

READERReport

2004-09-02 17:30:22
did jack sprat just die or something? where is the old fucker? he's the one i wanted to read sex with sister and all that malarky. he gives the literary advice and all that. oh well. i'm a stud. . . . .? not the first time i've heard that. . . .

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