Sid Farmer - Hot and horny weekend

"Ooooooooohhhhhhh," she moaned aloud, her eyes closing and her mouth dropping open at the first sensuous touch. Her twisting body stilled for a moment, absorbing like sweet nectar the pleasure rippling through her, and then, with a deep throated groan that seemed to come from the very depths of her primeval being, she began to move her fingers in small and erotic circles, teasing cruelly at the fleshy smooth walls of her inner vagina. It was good, soooo good… but not good enough! She needed a man!

"George, George… please…" she moaned piteously in her agony, her eyes still tightly closed to block out the sight of the triumphant grin she knew he would be bearing.

But there was not a sound from her tormentor, and she opened her eyes slightly, praying to see him standing before her, naked, his erected cock jutting out from his powerful body and ready to fill her with its massive flesh.

But, oh God, NO!

He was gone!

Her eyes raced desperately around the shaded room, hoping against hope that it was all a lie, that he was still there… but it was to no avail.

He was gone!

Laura groaned in helpless agony and let her hand slip wetly from between her desperately twitching legs. There was no use in going on: the thought of having George take her had made doing it to herself useless. She would never be able to satisfy herself now, and she could only curse George Farrington for having toyed with her in this way, and curse herself for again falling so easily into the trap he had set for her. The raging fire in her belly still stormed out of control, but her disgust and self-hatred for having again actually wanted her lecherous neighbor to take her, made any thought of satisfying her lust seem completely abhorrent to Laura.

Helplessly, she slid from the kitchen table to the floor and with effort picked up her fallen clothes. Tiny tears began to stream unheeded down her cheeks.

God! Oh God, what was going to become of her! She knew that this afternoon she had had no choice but to follow George's commands and strip her clothes from her body as he told her, but to suddenly begin enjoying it and end up begging for it was another thing. Perhaps she was just the whore that Bill had shouted she was when he found out about her night with George. Perhaps that was all she was, just a hot, fucking little whore who was ready to drop her pants at any cock that came along.

Laura dropped to the floor, crying in great gasping sobs and trying to blot out the horrible thoughts she was thinking from her mind, but it was only after she was completely cried out that she managed to lift herself to her feet and stagger down the hallway to the bathroom, to prepare herself for Bill's homecoming. The dark shadow of what was to come the following weekend hung heavy over her like a black cloak of doom, but she knew there was nothing that could be done to stop it… nothing at all. And even if something could be done to stop it… she just didn't think she had the strength to do it.

Laura lay with her head cradled on the backseat of the Farrington's powerful white convertible, as it sped through the blistering Friday afternoon heat. As usual, George Farrington was driving at a breakneck pace, and Laura preferred to keep her eyes closed rather than watch his terrifying progress along the crowded four lane highway.

The last few days had been the longest Laura could ever remember. It had almost been as though time had stood still, breathless in anticipation of what was to occur that weekend. Laura hadn't seen George since her humiliating meeting with him in her kitchen, but she had known that he was ever present, just out of sight, the threat of his appearance upsetting her as much or more than his actual presence.

But Friday had finally come, and now, as she rested her eyes from the brilliant sun that glared off the freeway, Laura listened to Bill and Abby chatting, and George occasionally punctuating the conversation with a hearty laugh. As for herself, Laura was content to withdraw from the group, and try to prepare herself mentally for the test she knew was bound to occur within hours. She noticed the car's change of speed as it evidently left the freeway, but kept her eyes closed until she heard Abby's excited exclamation.

"There it is! It's that brown one over there with all the space around it."

Laura opened her eyes, and looked off to the right where Abby was pointing. To her surprise, she discovered that they had already reached the ocean, and were riding along a narrow dune lined road that occasionally afforded glimpses of a long line of rather plush beach homes, all with sun drenched porches that faced out to sea. An amazed whistle escaped her lips.

"Wow! This is really something!" she said appreciatively as she stared at the attractive little brown bungalow that Abby had pointed out.

"Yeah, this is our little hideaway," George said proudly. "We bought up the lots on either side so we could have a little privacy."

"Hell," Bill laughed, "it looks like you own the whole beach. What's that building down by the water?"

"Oh, that's our boat shed," George answered nonchalantly.

"I didn't know you had a boat!"

"Yep. A real honey. I'll show it to you first thing."

George pulled the car around the circular drive in front of the cottage, and stopped next to the front door. As they all piled out of the car, George turned to his guests.

"Come on, let's go take a look at my little ship."

"Oh no you don't," Abby said quickly. "I need somebody to help me carry these groceries and things in. Bill, you're elected!"

"Well… sure," Bill responded hesitantly. "You two go on down to the boat. I can see it another time. We've got the whole weekend."

"Ah, nothing like true sacrifice," George laughed, already taking Laura's arm and beginning to guide her down the steep path to the boat house. "We won't be long. Why don't you guys fix yourselves a drink and we'll join you in awhile."

Laura felt there was something just a little too glib in George's speech, and tried to hold back as they began down the path. But then she saw that her husband was already busy unloading the car, and, deciding that George would never dare to do anything so soon, and with her husband so close by, she followed him down to the boathouse.

George fished through a set of keys before finding the one that fit the padlock on the boathouse door, but then quickly opened it and stepped inside, turning on the lights as he did so. Laura followed him through the doorway, and then gasped in amazement as she saw a beautiful thirty foot sloop displayed in the dim light, its mast extending up and out of a hole in the roof that had been made for that purpose. The boat was white above the waterline, blue below, and had a trunk cabin raised at least a foot and a half above the well kept teak decks. The sails were all furled and ready to go, and the whole boat looked new and vivacious, almost as though it were eager and anxious to set out at that very moment.

"Oh, George, it's beautiful…"

"Yeah. Abby and I just came down and cleaned the whole thing up; you know, scrubbed it down and replaced a few of the older pieces of rigging. She's ready for sea right now. In fact, we may try her out this weekend. Would you like to see below?"

Laura's curiosity and immediate love for the boat outweighed the slight feeling of apprehension that flitted across her brain at her host's invitation, and she followed George onto the boat, waiting while he unlocked the hatch cover and disappeared down the companionway. Then some lights came on in the cabin below, and Laura ventured down the ladder.

The boat, inside, was every bit as luxurious as it was outside. There were places to sleep four, a small galley and head, and surprisingly ample space for a thirty foot boat. Laura was particularly impressed with the interior decorating, which George had told her had been planned by Abby, but which still had a distinctly masculine air to it. She was examining what seemed to be an antique oil lamp when she suddenly felt George's powerful arms close insidiously around her waist.