Chapter 4

Rachel got up from the bed and started to put her clothes back on. But she discovered that her panties were soaking wet and needed to be changed. Then she thought that maybe it would be a good idea to wear a dress, instead of shorts, just in case talking to Marylou made her so horny that she creamed. The cunt juice might run down her thighs and it would be embarrassing, but a dress would conceal the flow. And she wouldn't bother to wear any panties under the dress, either. There was no sense in getting another pair sodden.

She selected a cotton dress that she knew made her look sexy, showing off her curves nicely--and she wondered, vaguely, why she wanted to look sexy for another girl.

When she went out, she left the juicy panties on the floor.

That was where the farmer found them...

Clay Turner was a tall, sun-bronzed man with pale-blue eyes and straw-colored hair--and a great big prick.

That prick was hard as a stone now as he lurked beside the house and watched Rachel's juicy ass sway as she walked past. He'd gotten a hard-on the moment he first set eyes on his sexy young lodger and his cock seemed to have been hard ever since, although he'd jacked off a couple of times.

Jesus! Did he ever want to stuff his big prick up that sweet little gal's cunt! He watched her move into the field and was trying to decide if he should jerk off again or fuck his wife.

He decided to jerk off.

His wife, May, was a good-looking woman with big tits and a great ass and nice long legs, but the trouble was that May had such a big, sloppy cunt that Clay could never work up any friction in the fucking thing. His cock was huge, and it puzzled the slow- thinking farmer that he could dip his giant prick into her cunt without seeming to make any contact at all. It was like sticking his cock out the fucking window.

It hadn't always been that way. When they had first married, May's cunt had been tight and satisfying. Her pussy had only gotten so sloppy recently and Clay couldn't figure it out. He didn't like to mention it to her, either. She might feel insulted.

She could have told him why her cunt had gotten so loose, in fact. But there was no way that she was going to.

Clay was thinking about going into the barn and pumping his spunk into the hay, but then he had a better idea.

He would sneak up to the girl's room and see if he could find a bra or panties or some other intimate undergarment into which he could spill his fuck juice. It would be like fucking her by proxy.

It was just as well for Clay's peace of mind that he decided not to go to the barn, although it would have given him the answer to the puzzle about his wife's expanding cunt.

Clay sneaked up the stairs and went down to Rachel's room, looking around guiltily. The door wasn't locked and he went in-- and the first thing he saw right there in the middle of the fucking floor was a pair of sexy bikini panties!

Must be my lucky day, he thought, grinning.

He bent over and picked them up and frowned.

Had she pissed in her panties?

Her panties were soaking wet. But it didn't feel like piss. The stuff was thicker and creamier and--holy shit!

Holding them up to his face, Clay sniffed.

It was fucking cunt juice! That sexy little piece of ass must have creamed in her fucking panties!

The tall, lean farmer staggered with emotion as that realization came to him. He shoved his nose and mouth into the soaking crotchband, sniffing and licking. Lordy! Her fuck juice was sweet! Clay's prick was threatening to burst right out through his overalls and his balls had swelled so much he was bowlegged.

Clay was not an imaginative fellow, but under such stimulation his mind was inspired. He imagined Rachel coming. Had she given herself a hand-job with her panties on, or had she just creamed without touching her pussy? He liked to think she'd been finger-fucking herself, her fingers slipped inside those soaking panties.

He wondered what had made the girl horny.

He hoped she had been thinking about him while she played with her creamy cunt and got her rocks off. He didn't suppose so, but it was a fucking good thought. He lapped hungrily at the residue of her lust, wishing heartily that he was lapping the stuff out of her pussy instead of her panties.

Was she a virgin? Was she a hot little virgin that had to take care of her cunt by herself? Or was she a fucking slut? Did she get fucked a lot? Did she suck cocks, maybe, or get gang- banged by dozens of young studs?

Was her pussy tight?

That, under the circumstances, was meaningful to Clay. He thought about the teenager's tight pussy as he opened his fly and hauled out his cock and balls. His prick was massive, long and thick, the underside gnarled by dark veins and the knob flaring out in a great triangle of purple cock meat.

It was a cock that almost any man would envy--man, of course, being the operative word. His cock wasn't as big as, say, a horse's cock.

Standing in the center of Rachel's room, with her soaking panties clamped over his face, Clay wrapped a big hand around the root of his fuck stick and began to pump the big cock rod up and down. The thick cock shaft throbbed mightily in his grip and his balls swelled with his cum-load. He was pretending that his fist was Rachel's cunt--her tight, tight cunt.

"Take it, you little tramp!" he rasped. "Oh, you sweet little virgin!"

He was switching his fantasies back and forth between that of a wanton and that of an innocent--but in both instances he imagined her cunt to be tight as a mouse's ear.

The crotchband of her panties was soaking with his slobber as well as her cunt juice by this time. He wanted to come into her panties. He gave them a last lick, then brought them down and held them around the head of his prick as he pounded merrily away on his cock.