Chapter 5

All through dinner Sandy watched Mela until he knew she was uncomfortable. The young blonde heiress moved restlessly, toying with her food. Her head kept coming up and turning toward the living room. Her mind was on many other things, Sandy knew. That bastard Cole for one, God damn him! The big sandy-haired foreman took his time, purposely not releasing her for an instant. He ate slowly, talked about the old man a lot, but his eyes deliberately talked another language. Right now she was too distracted to get his messages but she would, by God! It had taken a while with Kate this afternoon too... but it had been worth it and at least he felt he'd paid Cole back in kind. But this was his own woman... had been since she was sixteen and it was time she knew it. In a way it was probably his own fault that Cole had got to her. He should have spoken sooner. At twenty two a woman needed fucking hard and often.

At last Mela could stand it no longer! All the talk about her father! Who cared? She'd hardly known him. For six years she'd only seen him a few times and those times as brief as she could make them. She didn't give a damn how devoted Sandy Gayman had been to him. She threw down her napkin.

"I'm sorry, Sandy. I have a headache. If you'll excuse me... I... I think I'll go out on the porch a while."

He watched her leave, the long flowing flowered pajamas fluttering around her thighs. The big screen door sprang shut behind her and Sandy began to gulp the rest of his dinner, finishing his steak in a few huge bites. He heard the creak of the porch swing.

"Pretty evening," Sandy put his feet on the balustrade and leaned against the porch column.

"Yes," Mela answered absently.

"I like this time of evening best. You can kinda feel the whole world settling down and easing off."

Out of the corner of his eye Sandy saw Mela stir restlessly in the swing again. "There's nothing to do in this place," she complained. "Have you got a cigarette?"

Sandy lit one for her and handed it to her, taking the opportunity to move in beside her in the swing. "There's lots to do once you get used to the rhythm of living on a ranch. Tomorrow night there's a big dance at the Grange Hall. Everybody around will be there. Thought we'd go over and let you meet some people."

Mela turned to look at him. Her eyes showed the first spark of interest. "Oh, that sounds all right. Thank you, Sandy. I'd like to go."

"I was hoping you'd say that. When you've been home before I never had much chance to take you places around here. You was always gone so quick." He leaned back in the swing and sent them gliding back and forth.

"I didn't know you wanted to take me places, Sandy," she laughed.

"Well, you've growed up some," he countered, looking her over boldly. "Filled out a little."

The young girl looked up sharply. For the first time she really looked at the big man beside her. Tall, broad-shouldered, lean-hipped, eyes crinkled at the corners from squinting in the sun. She wondered idly what he would look like in city clothes. He had the build for clothes. Maybe she'd been missing something.

"Girls are supposed to fill out when they grow up."

"Mm... well, you sure did it just right, Mela. No doubt about that."

The swing creaked as they glided, and the night air was almost gone. It was still and breathless. "What do you say I bring my portable radio out here on the porch and we practice up a little for the dance. I'm kinda rusty," Mela murmured, mentally laughing at what she had said. "Rusty" hell, she had danced every night for months, until her father's death two weeks ago.

Moments later as a slow tune filled the porch, the foreman held out his arms and she came into them as though she'd been doing it for years.

The big foreman pulled her close against him and started off slowly. Almost immediately Sandy felt his groin tighten and draw in. Jesus! She didn't have a stitch on underneath those flowered thin pajamas and top. He could feel the softly rounded breasts mashing into his chest and the tips of his fingers on the small of her back couldn't feel any panties at all. He pulled her even closer until she fitted every curve up to him, and his jaw was pressing against her temple. The smell of her perfume floated in his nostrils and somehow it was part of the slow music. Goddamn, this might be easier than he thought.

They didn't speak, just swayed and glided slowly to the music. Sandy was caught up in the spell of the moment, and he let the music fill his body as he concentrated on the feel of the young girl in his arms. Yes sir, so far he'd handled it right. Now if he could just keep it up.

"You're a good dancer, Sandy," she murmured.

"Naw... you follow so good you just make me look that way."

He turned and dipped with her deliberately, pushing his thigh between her legs and feeling her bare cunt through the thin pajamas when they straightened up. "Yeah... South Dakota is a pretty good place to be. No riots or crowding or shoving."

"I'd go crazy here," Mela burst out.

"You're not going crazy now," Sandy whispered against her cheek. "But you're driving me crazy. I've been crazy 'bout you, Mela, since you were a kid."

"But that's silly, Sandy I don't think you ever paid any attention to me before."

"Wrong. It was you didn't pay no attention to me. I watched every move you made since you were a kid."

Mela was quiet in his arms as he whirled her around. It was true. He'd been a fixture at the ranch for years. She hadn't paid any attention to him... but why should she... he was only the foreman. Cole, though, was a rancher... and she had plans. A restaurant they would build in Denver was only the beginning. She'd get Cole away from this God forsaken country! They'd travel! With the two ranches they could afford to. The restaurant would be a success, too. She knew it.

Sandy's mouth slid down her face and he caught her mouth with his. She stiffened in his arms and tried to pull away but he held her closer and finished the kiss to his satisfaction before he let her go.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"Kissing You. I've wanted to ever since you were sixteen. Took me a long time, but I made it."

"Well, I think I've had enough dancing practice for one evening," she drawled sarcastically.

"We've hardly started, woman," he said softly, pulling her back in his arms and whirling her around and around.

"Let me go! What'll the help think anyway?"

"I don't give a damn what they think," he growled. The outraged young heiress pushed against him with her fist but he caught the slender hand and kissed each of the fingers separately. He could feel her lusciously ripe breasts rising against him with every breath. "You may as well settle down, Mela. You were off gallivanting all day but tonight it's my turn."

"What gives you the right to tell me what to do, Sandy Gayman?"

"This." He pulled her against him hard, thrusting his voracious mouth on hers and catching her completely by surprise. His eagerly questing tongue probed the whole warm wet surface of her mouth inside; and he held her head easily in his big hand when she twisted and tried to pull away. His arms were like a vise and he held her slenderness, cupping one softly supple buttock so sensuously covered with thin silk. She mumbled and moaned unintelligibly under his hard mouth. By God, she was going to learn who ran this ranch and everything on it. It was going to be his and her with it!

Gradually Sandy heard her protesting moans turn soft as he went on orally fucking into her softly pliant mouth. His rigidly erect cock was hard against her young quivering belly, and he could feel the breath catching in her throat as he ground his straining bulge against the thin lounging pajamas, searching the soft warm wonder of her trembling body. Finding her breast with one hand and cupping it close in his big palm, he could feel the hot hard nipple pop out like an automatic button.

"You're just a little lonely running around the world... when the world's right here waiting for you." he whispered.

"OOhhh... Sandy... Please..." she whispered back.

"You don't need to be... honey... Why, I'd give you anything." His big hand slid inside the loose flowered top to hold her fully ripened breast, naked and hot; his thumb and forefinger rolled the hardened nipple gently and felt the budded end growing.

Mela felt limp and excited... limp from being so close to that hard masculine body that seemed to know all the ways to entice a woman, and excited because he was a new man... one she'd never had before. She could feel his wildly throbbing penis pounding against her belly; it felt huge! She tried to imagine how large it would be if it were released. Cole Sutherland had been wonderfully big and she couldn't imagine any man being better, but Cole wasn't here. He was home with his wife!

You never know... you just never know, she thought in pleased surprise. It had never occurred to her that Sandy, her own ranch foreman... but his cock did feel so deliriously good, and his hands did do all the right things. Her earlier bored restlessness was gone; she felt a sweet lazy fatigued feeling as her bones turned soft from Sandy's hot mouth wetly tonguing her ear, and his big hard hands deliciously kneading the cheeks of her ass, and his enormous erection grinding masterfully against her belly. The wild anticipation was rapidly building into a heated incandescence in her loins when the foreman stopped.

"Come here, little girl," he muttered, effortlessly lifting her to his arms and carrying her over to the swing. He laid her out full-length on her back and stood for a long moment looking down at her. The flowered lounging pajama top was open revealing the white delectable succulency of a naked breast gleaming like warm ivory in the moonlight. He reached down, slipped the remaining buttons loose, and drew the top away so he could view the twin fleshy mountains whose peaks were capped with reddened erectile nipples. In all, he thought, right now her tits look like two big scoops of ice cream, each generous scoop topped with a cherry. She lay still, one leg propped up and the other scraping gently on the floor with the fluid motion of the swing.

The air felt cool against her naked breasts as she looked up at the big foreman and saw his face was a mask of barely repressed lust, his eyes glittering and his mouth hard. "So you wanted to kiss me since I was sixteen?" she asked softly, her tone a flagrant challenge.

"That isn't all I wanted to do." Sandy knelt between her trailing leg and the swing, burying his face in the warm white softness of her tit. Suddenly he was conscious of his rasping beard against the sensitive skin. No matter how often he shaved it, it seemed there was always a little left. "I didn't mean to scrape you."

"A little whisker burn never hurt a girl," the young girl breathed, clutching his hard face to her again, her fingers twisting in his hair.

Goddamn! Sandy moved his mouth across the nakedly hot breast and captured one rust-coloured nipple in his mouth and sucked it like a thick malt coming reluctantly through a soda straw. He heard her groan softly as her breast hardened more and strained up to his hungry mouth! She began shaking like a clothes line in a high wind!

"Ohhhh... Sandy..."

He sucked harder, swirling his tongue tantalizingly over the rigid nipple quivering so salaciously. The young girl arched her back and raised her chest, eagerly offering both trembling mounds of flesh to his hotly devouring mouth. To Sandy they were like warm divinity candy as they heaved under his hand and mouth. Sandy could feel his cock wildly beating in his jeans, throbbing with a fiercely possessive beat that threatened to obliterate his careful plans to seduce her slowly and well! His mouth moved over to the other neglected nipple and began a long, slow sucking of it too.

Mela began to rationalize her position, her big foreman's mouth on her tits, the inevitable fucking she knew that was going to take place. After their wonderful day how could Cole Sutherland have gone off like that back to his wife? If he cared he wouldn't have left her. He'd have found a way. A long time ago Mela had vowed that no man would use her. She would use them... like the female spider used the male. That way you couldn't get hurt. You always held the whip hand. Like now! Sandy would have to do anything she told him to do. She was the boss... and right now the boss wanted to be fucked!