Paul Gable - Horse-loving niece

"Will that be everythin', ma'am?"

"Hm?"

Linda Albright stood on the porch of her aunt's ranchhouse, staring at the reddening sun as it dropped slowly behind the mountains. The air was so clear here in the high desert. The sky so much bluer than in L.A., the landscape far more dramatic. Why couldn't she enjoy it? Why couldn't she simply lay back, run the ranch and enjoy the wild beauty of this countryside instead of thinking of that awful itchy heat concentrating in the furry bundle between her legs? She sighed, closing her eyes, feeling her strength being sapped away.

"I asked, if you want somethin' else."

Linda opened her eyes and pushed away from the wooden porch support she'd been resting against.

"No, no, Hank. That's enough for today. Tell the boys thanks for everything… for helping me out," Linda said, smiling at the tall dark-haired hand shuffling his feet in front of her with hat in hand.

It had been difficult at first, taking a leave of absence from her teaching job in Glendale to come out here and help her aunt after Uncle Jim had died. The ranch was so big, so complicated. Thank God they had a competent foreman and six good hands to do the actual work. It had been a slow, painful learning process for Linda. But being an intelligent young woman of twenty-four, she finally managed to learn some of the ropes of the game. And after the first month Linda began actually to enjoy living out here, working with the men, learning about the cattle business with all its problems and rewards. There were times when she even thought of leaving her teaching job altogether in Glendale and setting up shop here outside of Riverside.

But then she thought of the isolation here, of the temptations! All those men, all wanting to fuck her. Yes, they wanted her up against them, letting them squeeze their pricks through her cuntmeat. Linda read their eyes, could feel what they were thinking as she passed them by in her tight-fitting Levi's. They wanted her, but were afraid to do anything because she was the boss, the owner. That alone saved her from the crude remarks she was so used to getting back in Los Angeles. There were the off-color remarks, the groping in public busses, even obscene phone calls now and then in the middle of the night from men too cowardly to face her, telling her how they wanted to put their mouths on her pussy and suck her cunt until she went crazy. How she hated all that, wanted them to leave her alone.

And yet there was another part of her that relished all the attention, riveted her ear to the phone, made her nipples stand up and itch like mad when she felt those fingers sliding over her asscheeks in the bus. Her mother had done her job well, frightening Linda out of her wits at an early age about men… and especially about fucking. But some part of her had escaped those dreary moral lectures. Some part of her was waiting for the right moment to assert itself, to demand to be satisfied no matter what. Linda shivered, rubbing her upper arms with her finger tips. Hank was still standing in front of her, looking a little uneasy. Linda frowned, wiping her sweaty palms on her dress.

"Is something wrong?"

They had just repaired the fencing on the north property. Linda wasn't sure the ranch could stand another major repair bill until the cattle selling began next month.

"Uh… no, ma'am, it's just that… well… there's a dance… kinda a dance, guess, over in town this Thursday. It's lots of fun – all the folks gettin' together and havin' a good, clean time. And… and I thought you might be interested in goin'… with me."

Hank was her foreman, and a damned good one at that. He had a way with the men as well as with the cattle and horses that amazed her. She had thought of him as a valuable employee – and nothing more than that. Now, as he stood there with the sun setting behind him, Linda saw him in a new light. She ran her gaze over his broad shoulders, his powerful chest, that handsome, tanned face, then down to his crotch. It was too dark to see anything. But, to her embarrassment, Linda realized she was wondering about his cock. Was his prick long, short, thick, skinny? Except in books she'd managed to sneak into the house, the woman had never seen a man's prick.

"Ma'am?"

"Uh… well, I'm not sure," she said, finding herself a little confused at the thought. What would it be like to be in a man's arms – this man's arms? She had all those erotic fantasies, those terrible, wonderful dreams of men holding and touching her. But in these dreams men never had faces, never seemed to materialize completely. Here was someone very real indeed boldly asking for a date. "I… I think I'd enjoy going, though. It sounds like fun."

Hank smiled, nodding his head rapidly. "Sounds good, ma'am. I'll be around here at seven, then, pick you up."

"Sounds good, Hank. Good night," she said, feeling herself growing a little breathless. Again she found her gaze sweeping over his body, settling on the spot between his legs where his prick was. A rush of chilly heat raced through Linda's cunt. Damn, what was she doing? Was she throwing herself right into the lion's den by accepting that date? Of course she could always break it. This was Tuesday evening. The dance was at least two days away.

"Good night, ma'am."

Linda sighed once more, turned, and went back into the empty house. Just one week ago her aunt had had a mild stroke – nothing serious, but bad enough to require her to be hospitalized for at least several weeks. That had left Linda alone to run the business, having to extend her leave of absence, and making her feel terribly alone and vulnerable. The men had been wonderful in helping her out. But still she felt as if her world here were about to explode at any second. And the explosion wasn't only her worry about her business sense. Aunt Jane had been her walls of protection against herself, that other self twisting and screaming inside her, trying to escape and take over. With the older woman gone there was nothing external to prevent her from… doing what?

She closed and locked the front door behind her, leaning against the molding with her eyes cinched shut. Perhaps she should call her younger sister Janice to come up for a visit. The girl was such a wild one, running with boys all over town. At twenty the girl was a sophomore at Cal State Los Angeles, still giving her mother gray hairs with her wild escapades. What was done to Linda in sexual repression somehow had no bearing on her sister. Yes, she'd call Janice up tomorrow. The girl was on spring break. She was sure her sister would enjoy coming out here and going riding.

Besides, Janice would be the company she needed right now in the house until she could get a better grip on herself. Right now things were so foggy, so… so confused!

"What!" Linda jumped nearly out of her skin when she felt something cold and very wet brushing up against her leg.

At first the woman thought it was a trick of her imagination. But, peering down, she saw the big black and gray-body of Chad, the three-year-old German Shepherd her aunt had purchased just before Linda's arrival for protection. Linda shivered, drawing her hands up and pressing her fingers against the base of her throat. She had never liked the animal. He seemed too independent, almost threatening whenever she was around. Aunt Jane had difficulty controlling him and often spoke of getting rid of the animal when she had more time. Perhaps Linda wouldn't be going out of the way in helping her aunt sell the beast… or sending him off to the pound. Did they have a dog pound here? She was sure they did. In any case, he wasn't going to spend the night here with her. There was something awful in the way he was staring at her now, pushing his shoulders against her legs, panting against her knees.