Agatha Kristenson - The rancher_s wife

The Mexican boy needed no other encouragement, but he did take four steps away toward the deserted dining table and picked up a gob of half-melted butter which he spread all over his eagerly throbbing cock. Then he dug his hand in the butter plate and came back, fingers all golden, to smear it in and around Kate's expectantly raised little oval mouth. Even before he got his hotly hammering cock into Kate, Gwen was already screeching out an orgasm, a chant of fulfillment that was rapidly picked up by the madly thrashing Mela.

Angel quickly knelt between Cole's wide-spread thighs and placed the throbbing, blood-filled head of his dark penis against his wife's hungrily quivering anal opening and then thrust forward with all his wiry young strength, driving in one stroke all the way in to the hilt, feeling his balls slap against the backs of her trembling thighs and against the top of Cole Sutherland's balls down below.

"Ohhhh… Jesus…" Kate hissed through tightly clenched teeth. Oh God, that really hurt! And yet, as Angel immediately began grinding his desire-hardened cock in long heated strokes in and out of the warm, buttery slickened depths of his boss' wife's rectum, she could feel the deeper rectal and vaginal muscles beginning to move in harmony together, and she could feel her body rapidly soaring toward the long sought orgasm. Eric came with a loud cry of delight, Gwen continued to orgasm – furiously convulsing under the two male figures sandwiching her between them – and her frantic movements of release triggered Sandy's pent-up energy and the foreman came with a bellow that shook the hall. Then Angel was throbbing hotly up into the furthermost regions of Cole's wife's rectum filling the whole of her bowels with his lust-heated cum. That left only Cole and her. And he was about there too!

Arching like a great bull, the whole formidable strength of his straining body behind the effort, Cole lifted from the floor as he drove the spike of his manhood deep into the heatedly pulsating vitals of his wife and the whole fucking world was taking off! He noted with some satisfaction that only he and Kate were still fucking, the others had thrown in the towel and shot their wads. Suddenly, he felt it give… the entire tremendous volume of his dammed up cum streaming out in great hosings of sperm, shooting in hot spewings into Kate's arching, bucking body. Goddamn! Once he'd turned her on there was no one could match his Kate… As Cole felt the gushing ecstasy go on and on, he remembered dimly the line of print on a page in a book Kate had left open on the corner of his desk… what was it – "MY LAST DUCHESS". By God, yes… Kate would be his last Duchess… the only one he ever wanted… the best… and the first heifer out of that Limousin bull he'd call Duchess!

Kate felt the streams of white hot cum pouring into her exhausted body and it was like the whole world was showering love into her as though she were the great earth mother of all time. Her tightly constricted belly expanded then into one blinding, searing, exultant flashing of sensation that seemed too immense for her brain to register in its glory, and she was bursting with the love she felt had been contained too long in her own selfishness. Oh God… she was born and died and conceived and spent and destroyed and reborn again in those few brief seconds, and she was the mother of the whole world… the whole hot breed that peopled the universe!

Cole Sutherland wheeled the station wagon out of the Grange Hall side road and began driving back toward the ranch, shielding his eyes against the glare of the rising sun. Jesus, what a night! What an orgy! It hadn't been his first, and it definitely wasn't going to be his last, but it had been the first involving seven turned-on people. He shook his head in silent amazement. Man, oh man, alive! What a night – starting out as a mean drunken bash with everyone slashing at each other like steel-spurred fighting cocks and then turning into something that had changed everyone participating. Mela Meacham, that crazy bitch, had decided to marry Sandy Gayman in order to stick around and see what happened – because in her mind Paris wasn't the swinging scene – it was right here in South Dakota. That meant the Limousin bull partnership was settled. She had some good ideas, the restaurant in Denver, for one! Christ, they'd all be double-millionaires in ten years.

Cole glanced over as the giant sleeping figure of Eric restlessly stirred beside him in the front seat of the station wagon. Good kid, that. A nice clean-cut kid. Kate had said he had no parents. Well, he had a couple now if he wanted them! He was a damned hard worker and likable; practically all the South Dakota people who had met him had liked him… and it might be nice to have it known that Cole Sutherland's adopted son was going to get a piece of the action when he got out of school. He grinned wryly as his mind formed the phrase "a piece of action". Yeh! Really, yeh! Gwen had asked Kate if she could move into the Sutherland ranch for the rest of the summer. That meant first thing this morning after he woke up he'd have to order a helluva lot bigger bed. As a matter of fact, better shove two king-sized beds together.

Cole glanced up in the rear view mirror. The only person awake was the Mexican kid who had Kate asleep on one shoulder, Gwen on the other. Cole caught the kid's eye and winked. The boy grinned back at him – a nice friendly grin with a little bit of something else in it. Hell! He would adopt him, too, but Cole didn't think the boy would be around much longer.

In the back seat Angel Orellio pretended to close his eyes. It wouldn't be right for Mr. Sutherland to see him fighting back tears. The rancher had called him "son" during the orgy, and now winked at him as if they shared some secret. Oh, Jesu Christo! It was such a Goddamn gringo cornball thing. Lousy, shitty, cornball! No one, absolutely no one, had ever called him "son" before in his life – and the word stuck in his throat and made his eyes burn. He felt Gwen tremble once as she slept beside him. He looked down at the top of her head, feeling a great wave of tenderness for her wash over him. He guessed the little white schoolteacher had taught him as much as he had taught her. He would miss her when he stole Mr. Sutherland's beautiful golden guitar and took off for California next week.

That would be the last time he ever stole anything, though, the last time he ran away… And he knew instinctively that this would be the first time he had ever run away toward something only vaguely seen in the future.

Beside him, a soft wondering smile lit up Kate's face as she dreamed… dreamed of the future and all the beautiful things to come…