Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
All Characters In This Story Are 18+ Years Old.
Royce Engel walked from the McFee’s lean-to toward the Cavern Mine cabin, intentionally trailing behind his client’s 18-year old daughter, Clementine. She held the hem of her full gingham skirt up to mid-thigh, creating a hammock for the eggs she had collected for breakfast. Royce admired her tidy round buns, dancing beneath the dainty blue-and-white checked cotton tightly clinging to her hams, as she led the way with a natural, hip-swaying gait. He could still feel the firmness of their flesh in his fingers when he pulled her pussy to his face, immobilizing her squirming hips as he had feasted on her cunt-honey. He licked his lips, savoring its aftertaste. His dick thickened in his jeans with the additional memory of her practiced cocksucking and willing uninhibited intimacy when she woke him up just twenty minutes earlier.
Clementine looked back over her shoulder, tossing her straight pale blonde hair, and laughed. “C’mon, Royce! I’m the one with the eggs in her lap… what are YOU hangin’ back for?”
Royce grinned and answered, “I can’t help being stunned by the view.” He picked up his pace, passing the teen, and held the cabin door open as she stepped onto the covered porch.
“Hey, Momma! Got your eggs!” Clementine called, crossing the threshold and heading toward the kitchen area of the three-walled log cabin fronting the McFee’s Great Cave. She carefully lowered the front edge of her skirt onto the oak slab table in the dining room. “I got a goose and three duck eggs… No berries, though, the birds ate the ones close to the trail and I thought I better not get into the brush with my good dress.”
Daphne McFee, Clementine’s mother and older sister, nodded. “That’s fine, honey, you did just right.” She smiled and picked up the eggs in a basket and took them to the cooking area. The room was redolent of fried bacon, fresh biscuits and coffee. Royce grinned, rubbed his stomach and complimented the cook. Daphne smiled and winked at him. “Pour yourself a mug of coffee, Royce. The potatoes are pretty much done and these eggs’ll scramble up in a hurry.”
While Royce got his coffee, Daphne’s and Clementine’s father, Mitch McFee, entered from a back passage out of the deeper cave. “Good Mornin’ Royce,” he greeted, stepping up behind Daphne. He swatted her affectionately on her rear end and kissed the nape of her neck. “Mmmmmm, love your biscuits, Sugar!” He chuckled.
Daphne turned and kissed him warmly. Her bosom drug across his chest as her dress swirled. “Hush! Go sit. Breakfast is served.” She laughed, appreciating his love.
Clementine grinned at Royce and then, seemingly for no reason, stuck out her tongue at him and hurried to sit opposite him. He frowned in response then almost spilled his coffee when he felt the girl’s foot rubbing his right calf through his jeans at the top of his boot. When everyone was at the table she announced, daring anyone to contradict her, “Royce said I should call him ‘Royce,’ so don’t ANYONE get all huffy when I say, ‘Royce’ instead of ‘Mr. Engel.'” She glared left and right at Daphne and Mitch, then looked to Engel for corroboration. “You did say so, RIGHT, Royce?”
The elder McFees could not contain their laughter as the attorney spread his hands, shrugged his shoulders and gave a downturned smile, agreeing silently with the adamant youth. “Alright, Darlin’,” Mitch said, “Nobody’s gonna buck you on THAT!… so, Royce,” He looked to their guest and said, smiling over the rim of his coffee mug, “How about you ‘paintin’ in those corners’ you talked about last night with me and Daphne and sharin’ the plan with Clementine?”
Clementine shifted her eyes back and forth, wondering what was transpiring. Royce cleared his throat and repeated the information about the Ames Academy For Young Ladies in Boston and ended with a summary of the expected upcoming itinerary. “We’ll travel tomorrow, leaving early, and get to the hotel in Denver, I imagine about 7 p.m. or so. I know we’ll be both hungry and tired, but I already have the suite reserved and a room service dinner planned which, I have been assured, can be delivered within a half-hour of check-in.” Royce was glad to see Daphne and Mitch nod their approval of the arrangement. It had been a calculated risk. “We’ll have some fun over Independence Day… I think there’s a rodeo… and then spend a couple of days shopping,” he paused and sipped his coffee, “You know, for duds and whatnot before heading by train to Chicago. I have an apartment arranged where Clementine can stay, safe and secluded, while I help her with basic… oh, citification, shall I say? Then it’s on to Boston, and delivery to Miss Ames as agreed, on August 21st or 22nd.” Royce quit talking and put his mug down. He forked the last bit of fluffy scrambled eggs into his mouth and waited for the McFees’ reaction.
“WHAT are you even TALKIN’ about?!” Clementine exclaimed. She had heard every word yet was dumfounded.
Daphne extended her right arm and took her sister’s left hand, squeezing it while she smiled. bursa escort Mitch got up and stood behind her chair, putting his strong hands on her shoulder tops and gently working his stubby fingers into Clementine’s bare trapezius muscles from her neck out to her checkered dress straps and back. “Darlin’,” he said, softly with an underlying tone of no-nonsense, “The details are new and may seem sudden, but you have known since you were ten that your Momma and I had a beautiful future prepared for you.” He kissed the top of Clementine’s head. “I understand your shock. Shoot! Even I forgot about it until Royce rode up and reminded me that the time had drawn nigh.”
Clementine began to sob quietly. “I-I-I thought you’d be with me… we’d all leave the mine…” She pushed her chair back, forcing Mitch to step aside. Standing up she looked at Daphne, then at Mitch, shook her head and bawled, “I didn’t know you were GETTIN’ RID of me!” Clementine stiff-armed Mitch and fled to her niche, slamming the oak door and throwing the bolt. She threw herself face down in the darkness on her bed and wept.
At the dining table the McFees stared at each other, stunned and distraught. Royce promptly stood up and walked around the table to them. “Let me go talk to her,” he suggested quietly. “She’s upset, yes, but maybe you are too close to the source to be helpful just now.” He simultaneously put his right arm around Daphne’s shoulders, hugging her to his side, and closed his left hand around Mitch’s right wrist, which was straying to his belt buckle.
Daphne saw it, too. “No, Mitch,” she pleaded, “Strappin’ her won’t help… you know it. Give Royce a chance. Words are his business, right?” She turned her face and smiled at Engel. “Go to her. I think she needs you to help her understand.”
Royce nodded and withdrew his hands. He was unable to resist a final compression of Daphne’s unharnessed left boob against his ribs as he released her and walked down the passage, picking up and lighting a lantern on the way.
Mitch sighed and said tersely, “Fine. I gotta go to work anyway.” He walked grumbling down a different tunnel as Daphne called after him, “Thanks, Daddy… I’m going out to lead the birds to the river… I LOVE you!”
At Clementine’s door, Royce scraped his boot toe on the wood planks and called the teen’s name softly over the scratching sound. She snuffled in her pillow and raised her head. Again she heard Royce’s voice and the rasping wood sound. She knew she had acted badly but consoled herself, “At least it’s not Poppa, hammerin’ and hollerin’.” She rose from the bed and stepped to the door. “Wha- what is it?… Just GO AWAY why don’t you?” She caught her words but too late, they were in the air and through the door. “Why did I say THAT?” she wondered in anguish and began blubbering again.
“I want to talk to you, Clementine,” Royce answered, still quietly modulated. “I can’t do that if I go away, and it’s really, really hard to talk through this door. Won’t you let me come inside?”
“Oh YES, Oh DO COME INSIDE!” Clementine screamed in her head, suddenly aching for Royce to hold her and make everything right again. Aloud, she simply said, “Alright,” and pulled back the door bolt. Royce smiled as he heard the metal slide. He pushed the door open and slipped into the room. Instantly Clementine shut the door and re-bolted it. She took the lantern from Engel’s hand and set it on the shelf beside her own unlit lamp, then melted against his hard body.
Royce wrapped his arms around the crying teen and said nothing while she clung to him and shook. After a time Clementine stopped weeping and looked up. Royce’s shirt was soaked through from her tears. “You think I’m a child… a baby…” she said with a discernible quaver, “but I’m NOT!” Her voice strengthened and she kissed Royce quickly. “I’m a woman. Poppa made me a woman… and I want to YOU to make me a woman, too!” She kissed him again, harder, holding it a second longer. “This mornin’ we were kissin’… but somethin’ was missin’.” Clementine crushed her full ruby lips against Royce’s mouth and squirmed her body. Her gingham clad breasts slid on Royce’s plaid flannel shirt and scorched his chest despite the cloth protection.
Royce stopped merely holding Clementine and clutched her to himself as a lover. His hands split. The left dropped to her tight round ass, rubbed circles on each cheek and then slid along the covered crack, pushing the dress material between her legs. His wrist vertically braced her buttocks while his fingers extended past the skirt hem and cuddled her bald naked cunny. Meanwhile, Royce’s right hand zigzagged slowly, traversing Clementine from her tail-bone to her nape, lightly sanding every inch of her back with the loose cotton dress.
“Nnnnnnhhh!” Clementine sighed into Royce’s mouth, stabbing at him with her quick small tongue and mashing her lips to his. Her left hand buried itself in his shock of dark hair and scratched his scalp as she pulled him against her face. Her right hand was wedged between their stomachs. She loosened his belt, unbuttoned his Levi’s, bursa escort bayan and then dipped into his shorts, seeking him.
Royce toppled back on his heels against the sturdy door. Clementine was like a crazed demon. She pushed his insecure jeans past his hips. They collapsed, with his shorts, around his boots. Caught in the fervor, Royce pulled at her dress until the skirt was wrapped around her waist like a sash. His right hand slipped her straps past her shoulder points and drug her bodice to join the skirt, beneath her full firm breasts.
“Nyaahh! Uhnn!” Clementine moaned and grunted as she shinnied up Royce’s thighs until her knees clamped on his hips and her cunt hung above his fat sleek hard pointer. Royce’s fingers worked in her slit, diving and twisting, spreading her thick juice the length of her pussy. “HUHHHNNN!” She cried, then broke her hold on Royce’s mouth and snarled, “Hurry! I NEED you!”
Royced lowered her body and pushed her ass as he lunged his buttocks off the door. Clementine sat on his stake. “THERE!” She hissed as his fullness thrust up and in. “Oh GOD! Yes! UHNNNN!” He was longer and thicker than her father and the angle of approach penetrated her beyond her expectation. Clementine, suspended by Royce’s strong hold, bounced her bottom on his cupped left palm. Her cunt instinctively contracted in time with his pumping rhythm. She bit his lip as she re-locked her mouth on his and screamed into his throat from her delicious new level of agony. “Poppa wasn’t like THIS!” She thought, as she giggled and gurgled while riding Royce’s rock-hard charger.
Clementine’s orgasm arrived in a storm before Royce was ready. She lurched in his arms and arched her back. Thrown off balance, he fell forward and both of them crashed, luckily, onto the padded quilting of her bed. Now Royce was freed from being simply Clementine’s carousel horse. He drove himself with abandon, pounding her, slapping her pussy with his ballsack, pressing her head deep into her pillow with his mauling mouth. With the tables turned, she beat on his back with her closed fists in her rapture. Royce felt his release coming on. He tightened his glutes and crunched his abs as he shoved his dick to its limit. “HYUHNNNNN!” He roared. His head exploded and so did his nuts. His cock, rammed to Clementine’s back wall, spat and sputtered as his unbridled seed fought each other to be first to a prize they could not know was unattainable.
Clementine fell away from Royce in exhaustion. He looked at her flushed face, aroused breasts and wrinkled dress. His dick was buried to the hilt in her glossy pink pussy beneath its pale pubic shadow. She glowed. He grinned and pulled out then lay beside her and idly stroked her soft hair. She opened her eyes and rolled her face to his. “When do we leave for Denver?” she asked with a lilting laugh.
By evening the household atmosphere was much as it was before breakfast.
Clementine, after a refreshing nap, had spent the day puttering around, doing her normal chores, while she collected important small personal items and carefully packed them into a large soft-sided, burlap and leather valise. She had not bothered with anything in her meager wardrobe, except to lay out her travel togs: a green seersucker sundress; a long undyed mohair shawl Daphne had knit some years ago before Jasper and Agnes, their two Angora goats, were killed by bears; her sturdy leather winter boots; and a pair of thick homespun linsey woolsey knee-high stockings.
Royce bequeathed the assorted equipment and camping gear in his pack saddle, along with the frame itself, to the McFees for whatever value they may find, reserving for himself only his personal clothes and a short trenching shovel. He optimistically believed the ride off the mountain would be complete in a long day without foreseeable difficulties. Otherwise, he occupied his daytime being useful where he could.
After supper the men pitched horseshoes in front of the cabin while the women watched from the porch swing, holding hands and conversing quietly. As the twilight took charge of the clearing, the men adjourned to the cabin for a sip of corn liquor.
When the door closed behind them, Daphne broke a tacit moratorium on talk about the upcoming departure. “Everythin’ is goin’ to be just fine, Clemmy, honey,” she assured her young sister. “Just know Poppa and I love you, always, and think of Royce as our representative. Do whatever he asks and when you meet Miss Ames, listen to her and learn.”
“I will, Momma,” Clementine answered. “I know you are right, and TRULY I trust Royce and you and Poppa.” She smiled as she thought about the prospect of spending so much time alone with Mr. Engel. “It’ll be just like a honeymoon,” she thought. Changing the subject, and anxious to be close to her new paramour, Clementine concluded, “There’s a chill comin’ off the river, Momma. Let’s go in.”
“Just a second, honey,” Daphne said, holding Clementine’s wrist and keeping her on the swing. “There’s somethin’ else… it’s goin’ to be REAL important you keep up with your escort bursa Baby Board and not have a child. I know your Poppa has been working with you… Have you done anythin’ with Royce?” Daphne was sure of the answer and still wanted to hear it.
“Oh, Momma,” Clementine answered, sidling close and lowering her voice, “Don’t fret. I’m not in the paint and both Poppa and Royce have shown me how to fuck. It’s SO wonderful, Momma!” Her chest heaved under her checkered dress and excitement shone in her face.
“Un-huhn,” nodded Daphne, “I know, honey. That’s what I’m gettin’ at… it’s so excitin’ a woman can SOMETIMES get carried away… be forgetful, or careless.” She raised her hands to her daughter’s shoulders and shook her gently as she stared into the steel gray eyes she inherited from Mitch. “There’s other ways to fuck and have fun, EVERY day and not get in a FAMILY way.”
“What do you mean, Momma?” asked Clementine, wide-eyed. “Poppa showed me how to kiss his cock, and if I do it just right all his goodness comes right into my mouth… He told me that was how he was protectin’ me from his seeds.” Her eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that a good way?”
“Absolutely, honey,” Daphne affirmed, “But it’s not the ONLY way. And, especially with a younger man, such as Royce, you need to know he can come more than once and pretty quick, too! So, if you’re all hot an bothered, and not thinkin’, you might just find yourself in trouble.”
“So what should I do, Momma?” Clementine asked.
Daphne leaned forward and whispered at length into Clementine’s ear. The teen’s eyes turned to saucers and she sucked in her breath. “NO! Really? Oh, MY!” Her exclamations periodically punctuated her mother’s secret instructions.
When Daphne finished the briefing she kissed Clementine. “Why don’t you try one of those things tonight when we go to the springs for our baths? See how it works!” She winked and smiled encouragement as she stood and pulled Clementine to her feet. They left the porch; in-step and arm-in-arm.
The men, standing by the hearth, grinned at the sisters’ entrance. Mitch put down his glass and greeted them. “We were just thinkin’ about you! Tomorrow’ll be a long ride and Royce wants another bath before he turns in. Are you all goin’ to join us?”
Clementine piped up before Daphne could speak. “That was our very thought, Poppa! Don’t dawdle, now, hear?” With that she laughed aloud and skipped her way past the men, disappearing into the dark tunnel leading to her niche and the mineral hot springs.
Daphne spread her hands and made a moue, then walked, more deliberately, behind her departing daughter. Royce set down his glass and clapped Mitch on the shoulder. Turning to leave the mantel, he said, “That look’s like a big ‘Yes’ to me, Mitch.” He crossed in front of his host and followed the ladies, grabbing a lit lantern as he went. Mitch was close behind and the quartet reconvened in the steaming cavern moments later.
With only a single light source, the shadows were deep over the bubbling aromatic ponds. Royce held the light high and scanned the pools, spotting Clementine, already stripped and soaking in the furthest, hottest, small pond. “C’mon Royce!” She called to him. He hung the lamp on a hook by the tunnel and walked to his right, unbuttoning as he moved.
Mitch pulled Daphne to himself, hugging her back while he undid the buttons on her shirtfront dress. “Let’s you and me jump in the big spring, Sugar,” he whispered huskily into her neck. She nodded, sluffing off her dress as soon as her buttons were freed and then spinning in her father’s arms, squashing her aching mature breasts against his chest.
“Hurry, Daddy,” Daphne hissed, “I hate to wait!” She kissed Mitch and backed away, teasing him with beckoning arms as she stepped over the rock ledge and sculled across the warm bubbly water. Mitch hastened to shed his clothes and joined her.
Meanwhile, Royce splashed unhesitatingly into the little pool. “Yikes!” He yipped. “This IS a hotter spring, Mitch!” His yell echoed across the cave, acknowledging the cautionary advisement he had received the night before. His body, however, quickly adjusted to the temperature and he found it very pleasant, indeed. It was not nearly so pleasant, though, as the nude blonde naiad kneeling in front of him with her pale full breasts bobbing on the bubbling swells. His dick stood proudly waving before her grinning face.
Clementine crowed under her breath, “Well, looky here! I see the first thing I want to wash!” She cupped her hands in the water then showered his cock with hot spray as she grabbed him and slid her right fist from his base to his head while her left hand cradled his hanging scrotum and floating figs.
Royce inhaled sharply and sighed noisily from her attention. To his surprise, however, Clementine did not begin kissing, or sucking on, his bone. Rather, still crouching, she waddled even closer and captured his engorged mushroom between her breasts. Dropping her hips, in an underwater deep knee-bend, she propelled Royce’s cock along her valley until his nuts lay flat on her stomach and his purple-brown helmet was exposed, inches from her chin. Raising her haunches to the surface again, she let go of his dick and balls and pushed her tits together around his sliding staff.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32