Frank Brown: Barnyard orgy

Shit, Harlan thought, maybe Tyler would be enough of a help that Harlan himself could rest a few days, maybe sneaking back to the city to enjoy a fuck vacation like Delbert had enjoyed yesterday. He needed a rest, needed some good tight fucking – surely he did. In five years now, ever since his wife had died, Harlan had done hardly any fucking. No slippery-cunted wife around to slide his prick inside, and the young 'uns abandoning the farm one at a time, with only Seth and Delbert left – shit, it wasn't fair. He was working harder and harder and fucking less and less. It wasn't right. Shit, he deserved a restful week in the city, fucking every bitch he could lay his hands on.

"Damn right!" Harlan said out loud. "Goddamn right!" He grabbed his cock and squeezed, feeling the hot sensations shoot through the core. He felt his eyes roll.

Up ahead, amidst the heat waves rising from the blacktop a half mile off, Harlan thought he saw figures dancing. So horny I'm hallucinating, he thought. Next thing you know I'll see scarecrow dancing out of the cornfields and parading down the road like a marching band. He shook Seth.

"Wake up, boy. What's that you see up ahead?"

Seth sat up, rubbing his eyes. "What, Pa?"

"Up ahead, near the top of that hill. Accident or something?" As the truck drew closer, Harlan could see tiny figures standing in the middle of the road, jumping up and down and waving their arms. A blob of bright yellow was perched next to the figures, reflecting the intense sunlight.

"Car trouble, maybe," Seth said.

Next to him, Tyler sat up and leaned forward to take a look.

They were a quarter-mile away now.

"Hey," Tyler said, "I know that car. Only one car like it I ever seen. Can't be more than one. Yellow Corvette. Belongs to a rich cunt called Jenny Kane."

Harlan braked the truck, and the boys braced their hands on the dash board to save their heads from the windshield. "Jenny Kane, you say?"

Harlan could make out the jumping figures now. They were two females for sure – shaped like hourglasses.

"That's right," Tyler said. "You know her? Hangs around with another bitch called Lynn. Big-shots around town. Ain't worth stopping to help. Once they get what they want they'll spit in your eye."

"We'll see about that," Harlan said. "They know you, Tyler? They know you on sight or by name?"

"Fuck no," Tyler said. "They won't look twice at anybody who ain't rich. Now if I was to drive a Rolls Royce, and if I was to get my hair cut once a week at the beauty shop and put on fancy clothes, why then they might notice I'm alive."

"Don't worry, boy," Harlan said. "Just play along with whatever I say, and maybe we can get those bitches riding your dong."

"No way," Tyler said.

"Just play along, boy. Hear? And you too, Seth."

Harlan pulled the pickup onto the shoulder of the road behind the yellow Corvette. Jenny and Lynn, looking like a set of Playboy centerfold twins in their bare feet, their slick tennis shorts, and their matching yellow bikini tops, came running up to the side of the truck, their waist-length hair trailing behind them in the breeze.

"Oh, thank God!" the blond one said, smiling coquettishly with polished teeth. "Can you help us? Our car broke down."

"Yes," the brunette said with the same smile. "Our car broke down twenty minutes ago, and you're the first people to come along."

"We'll see what we can do," Harlan said.

"Meanwhile, you two fine ladies climb in here and rest yourselves. Dang, your pretty feet are likely blistered from the asphalt. Mighty hot day. Seth and Tyler, get out so the ladies can rest themselves."

"Yes, Sir," the boys said in unison.

Harlan and the two boys checked out the Corvette while the two girls sat inside the pickup cab, nudging each other and giggling. Giggle your damn tits off, Harlan thought. It's the last giggling you'll be doing for a spell.

"Looks like they're out of gas," Seth said.

"OK," Harlan said. "You two young 'uns ride in back with Delbert. When we get them bitches to the farm, we're all gonna have more fun with 'em than the two of you had with Candy Lee."

The boys got wide-eyed for a moment, then both grinned.

"You're out of gas, ladies," Harlan said, sliding in beside the two girls. "Our farm's up the road a spell. Come along for some ice-cold lemonade, and then we'll bring you back here with a couple cans of gas, enough to get you wherever you was going."

"Carver Lake," the blond said. "We and a lot of other kids are having a big party there tonight and tomorrow."

"We'll get you going in plenty of time," Harlan said. "By the way, we ain't been introduced."

"Jenny," the blond said, "and my friend is Lynn."

"Pleased to meet you both," Harlan said. "I'm Harlan, and those are my worthless young 'uns in the back."

The girls laughed, and Harlan grinned.

Go on and laugh your fool heads off, Harlan thought as he started the truck. You won't be laughing long. As he pulled out onto the road, his cock was jumping like a fish out of water.

If the ropes didn't hurt so much, cutting into her tender skin, Jenny would swear she was having a nightmare. This was the type of thing she saw in the movies or heard on the news, not something that could ever really happen to her.

But each time she moved, each time she breathed, she was painfully aware of the reality of the situation. Her heart was thudding, she was having trouble breathing, and she was sick to her stomach. For the first time in her life, Jenny thought she might faint. Tears streamed out of her and she finally gave up fighting the ropes that bound her. The more she fought, the tighter they got and the more they hurt. Her arms and legs were already numb. She wished to God that Lynn would stop struggling.

Stop your Goddamn squirming, she wanted to shout. Can't you see you're just making it worse? She'd have shouted that at Lynn had her own mouth not been stuffed with a wadded-up wool stocking, the stinking sock that the old bastard had pulled off his smelly foot and shoved into her mouth before tying the gag rope around her head. Thank God she hadn't vomited. She would have choked herself to death, would have drowned on a lungful of vomit.

Lynn stopped struggling, hopefully having come to the same conclusion as herself – that struggling was only making the ropes hurt more. They were bound together – herself and Lynn ass to ass and back to back. They were on their sides – Lynn on her left side, Jenny on her right side – in the hot dust of a barn yard. The sun was intense, blinding Jenny and making her sweat like she couldn't remember ever having sweat before. Salty sweat ran into her eyes, making them itch and burn. Sweat oozed under the coarse ropes binding her arms and legs, and the raw areas caused by her struggling against the tight ropes were stinging. She and Lynn were bound together like mummies, legs stretched out straight, crisscrossing ropes wound around their bodies from head to foot.

They were both stark naked, and their sweating flesh was glued together. Lynn's skin felt hot against Jenny, irritably hot. You Goddamn hot bitch, Jenny thought. Cool off, damn it.

A fly landed on Jenny's nose and walked up and down it despite Jenny's attempts to shoo it away by wrinkling her nose and wincing. She stared at the fly, cross-eyed, saw it rubbing its hairy black legs together. Shitting on me, she thought, and she jerked, causing the ropes to slice into her flesh at the same time the fly buzzed off. Lynn groaned sharply, sounding angry.

"Well, well, how you girlies getting along?" came the voice Jenny despised more than any of the others. It was Harlan, the leader of this clan of smelly, psychotic hillbillies. She could see his big naked feet now pounding in the dust close to her face. This farm was like a nudist camp.