Chapter 1

Pretty, eighteen-year-old Sissy Clanton got out of bed yawning. She stood on tiptoe and stretched her slim arms above her rich blonde hair. Her naked body arched slightly and her young tits rose up and jutted hard. Her pink nipples pointed stiffly. Her tuft of golden pussy-hair poked out as her back bowed. Her curvy ass firmed up like her tits. In the distance, a rooster crowed.

Her husband murmured in his sleep and Sissy turned and peered at him. It had been another hot, clammy night, and the sheet was thrown carelessly across his lower belly. Her blue eyes traveled to the spot where his hairy thighs came together, just below the sheet. Her pink tongue slipped across her pouting pink lips and she sighed.

"Hollis," she whispered. "You awake?."

The young man smacked his lips and muttered, "Hmmm? Yeah, yeah."

Sissy gazed at the bulge in the sheet and a longing softened her eyes. She fought the urge to get back into bed with him, and a tremor ran through her body. She wanted to crawl on the bed and pull the sheet away from his body. She wanted to lean down near his thighs and gaze for a long time at his prick. She wanted to take his cock in her hand and stroke his prick until his cock was big and stiff, and then she wanted to close her fist around his prick and pump his cock up and down.

A whole series of desires ran through her young mind in those moments, and they took her breath away. Her tits rose and fell faster as she thought her secret thoughts.

It was hard for her to resist the impulse to do the things she was thinking about. But she knew she wouldn't do them, couldn't do them. Not with Hollis Clanton.

She turned away sadly and lifted her dress from the back of a chair. She pulled it on over her head and tugged at it. It was ah old dress, left over from her high school days when her body was less developed. Now her luscious tits strained in it, and her high, firm ass made the dress shorter than it really was.

"Sun's up," she said, fluffing her hair.

Hollis rolled out of bed, murmured something, and plodded across the room to the bathroom. Sissy shot a quick glance at him and for a second she saw his cock - thick and long, dangling loosely between his legs.

The bathroom door closed, and Sissy thought she'd cry. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and fought the tears back. She didn't want to behave childishly. Yet, at the same time, she felt so abandoned, so alone, so frustrated. She knew it was her own fault, and that made it even worse.

Hollis Clanton believed he had married a nice girl. How she had pretended! But she had wanted to catch Hollis, just like every other girl in Elmtown. So she went to a lot of church picnics to meet him and attract him and catch him. And she'd won. Now she was Mrs. Hollis Clanton, and she lived on the Clanton farm on the county line. Her mother told her she was the luckiest girl this side of the Mississippi, that she had everything a girl could want.

Almost everything, Sissy thought sadly, looking at herself in the mirror on the wall. Hollis was very religious in a sickening sort of way, always trying to live up to the standards set by clergymen and his parents. Sissy had thought she could handle that. Now it was driving her crazy.

She tore herself away from the mirror. To see her curvy young body reminded her what she really wanted, and she couldn't bear the thought right now. She'd always known she was a sexy girl, but she hadn't known until recently just how much her body craved fucking.

She went into the kitchen and busied herself fixing breakfast to keep her mind off sex. The activity didn't help much. She kept thinking how nice it would be if Hollis were different, if he would wake up in the morning with a huge hard-on for her. Just the thought excited her, and she squeezed her thighs together tightly as she fried bacon and eggs.

Her firm thighs clamped on her furry, young pussy and her pussy-lips clenched her little, pink clit. Her clit was stiff again, and Sissy heaved a sigh. She hadn't known much about her clit as a little girl, only that her clit was a special spot to rub, but since her wedding night, her clit often swelled up and tingled and made her cunt hungry.

The sun filled the window above the sink, already intense, and Sissy squinted her eyes against the glare. Chickens cackled and roosters crowed. A horse neighed in the corral. Another day had begun, and Sissy already felt bored with it.

Hollis came into the kitchen and sat at the table. Sissy served breakfast and sat down. A rattle-trap pickup truck jounced into the front yard, and Sissy felt another routine day already closing in on her. In the truck would be old Jed and his dimwitted son Cal, Hollis's underpaid hired hands. Jed would slop the pigs and feed the horses, Cal would milk the cows.

Hollis wolfed his food down and rambled on and on about the work he was doing on the south forty. Then he griped again about the trouble he was having with the old tractor. Sissy crossed her legs and worked her pussy muscles like she used to do in school. She caught some egg-slime on her fork and lifted it to her mouth. She rolled the glob of silky goo on her tongue and thought about male cum.

She glanced at her good-looking husband let the egg-slime slip down her throat. She wondered why Hollis never asked her to lick his prick. She had sucked a few cocks before she was married to keep boys from fucking her, and she had grown to like the feeling of a stiff boner pumping thick cum down her throat.

She lifted a slice of crisp bacon in her fingers and nibbled on it. Hollis didn't know she liked to suck cock. How could he? He thought she was a nice Christian girl who would never do such a thing. If only he knew!

"Gotta get going," Hollis said and pushed away from the table.

Sissy watched him move to the kitchen screen door without even kissing her. Her eyes glued to his ass, strong and firm in his tight denims. He turned and waved, and Sissy saw his crotch. How chunky his cock was. But what a waste!

The screen door slammed behind him, and a few seconds later, Sissy heard him talking with Jed and Cal. She peered around the familiar kitchen and sighed wearily.

Is this all there is, she thought. God, I thought marriage would be so exciting!

She sipped the rest of her coffee and daydreamed about her first week of marriage. That was the closest she'd come to getting what every young girl looks for in marriage. Especially the third night. Hollis had drunk too much corn liquor, and, for that night, at least, he had been like an animal with her.

Sissy trembled to remember how wild he'd gotten. He had spent lots of time loving and licking her tits that night. And he'd eaten her pussy, too. Twice! He even said "tits" and "pussy" once when he was fucking her silly.

But that was six months ago. Since then, there was nothing but the Saturday night ritual. Every Saturday night, just before going to sleep, Hollis kissed her, felt her tits, climbed between her legs, fucked her pussy, got his rocks off, then rolled over and went to sleep.

Here it was Tuesday, and Sissy knew she wouldn't feel his cock again for five whole days. And nights. The thought filled her with despair. Her cunt despaired most of all. Her pussy was alive and vibrant between her clenched thighs. That only made her more miserable. How was a girl supposed to keep her mind off sex when her cunt was always so tingly and excited?

Sissy's gaze roamed to the large vegetable drawer in the sink cabinet. She heaved a sigh that made her tits threaten to leap over the low neckline of her dress. She bit her lower lip, resisting the urge to go to the drawer for what was in there

It was too childish, she told herself. It was something she'd done a lot as a little girl. But she was eighteen now. And married.

But her young pussy would give her no peace. Her cunt was feverish and juicy and all tingly. Sissy looked at the breakfast dishes and sighed again. She couldn't do her chores while she was feeling this way. She had to do something about her condition.

Well, maybe just a little while, she thought.

She got up and went to the drawer. She pled it open and picked out a large ear of corn. At the sink she peeled it, tossing the husks aside. She stripped it clean of its silky, golden strands, then gazed at it. She curled her fingers around the smooth kernels and ran her fist up and down a few times.