Rick Jennings - Pet shop pussy

But the pleasure had been just as intense as he had promised. Now, she wondered why she felt such a strange morbid sense of apprehension and discomfort, ill at ease about the prospect of visiting a farm with Justin Whitlock.

"Whose farm is it?" she asked him then.

"Well, I can see that surprises are useless, so I might as well get down to basics and tell you," he decided after a moment's pause for silent introspection. "It's actually a big old New England colonial house where my friend lives. He keeps a lot of animals around, though not for any great commercial or business reasons. I mean, he doesn't support himself running a farm, milking cows or raising chickens."

"Then how does he… support himself, I mean?" she asked, growing more curious and thus more interested in what he was finally revealing.

"He's one of those fortunate people who don't have to do any work at all, to tell you the truth. He lives off his investments, or his daddy's investments, to be more exact about it. He was left enough to live quite decently without having to hassle himself about a nine-to-five job."

"Which you approve of, wholeheartedly, I take it," she added.

He looked at her, not sure if she was annoyed or not. "Shit, yes. I mean, why not, kiddo? Lloyd paints a little, like me. And he's an amateur photographer. And he grows vegetables and raises animals. He's perfectly content."

"But unmarried."

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Justin replied. "Is there anything the matter with being a bachelor? I thought you were the kind of woman who relished her independence, not having to suffer the slings and arrows of male chauvinist pigs."

"And so your unmarried bachelor friend with enough money up his ass to live the life of Riley, just happens to invite us up to his farm for the weekend. How convenient," and she pouted, folding her hands across her chest.

At that instant, Justin swerved the car violently to the right, the wheels spinning over the gravel shoulder. He pulled on the brake as Pam was thrown forward; just able to grab hold of the dashboard before her head struck the windshield. Bix had toppled off the front seat, but now he scooted back into the seat, none the worse for wear.

"What was that all about, may I ask!" Pam snapped.

"Listen kiddo," he said, trying to control his temper. "Let's get one thing straight, right here and now. Either you go along with me and stop acting like some fucking spoiled brat, or else I'll just turn the car around and head back to the city and we can call it quits from now on in. The choice is yours. I told you last week what I expected from you. You went along with me. That's what commitment is all about, kiddo. Not acting the way you've been doing, sticking your nose in the air and pretending to be something that you're not."

"Such as what?"

"Such as a ball-busting cunt, for starters," Justin barked. "I said I wanted you to fuck a pig, baby. Well, Lloyd has just the right porker we've been looking for. And he has a couple of sheep, some goats, a nice tight-assed little mare, the whole works. Any more questions? Or are you still not interested? Yes or no?"

She had never really expected him to attempt to make good what he had told her that night at her apartment. She had never dreamed he would go this far, actually taking her to a farm to consummate some of his perversely bestial schemes, his erotic fantasies. But now, Pam knew that he wasn't bullshitting, that the moment had finally reached the proportions and colors of black-and-white reality. And it was now up to her to either accept his ultimatums or else refuse to go along with them.

If she chose the latter tack, she knew that their relationship would be over, right then and there. And now, as she looked over at him as he sat with his hands on the wheel and his face bristling with ill-concealed annoyance, the last thing in the world she wanted was for Justin Whitlock to disappear from her life.

To return to an existence of loneliness was something she could no longer even bear to think about, let alone handle. "Okay," she whispered. "You win. Whatever you say, Justin, whatever you say."

He started up the car in silence and didn't say a single word to her until she could see the white clapboard farmhouse filling her field of vision. They had arrived and now, she was about to embark on a journey she had never even contemplated before, a journey into a world that was one of complete and total sexual abandon, a world where everything was possible and everything could happen. And what made it all the more difficult for her to deal with, was the fact that she didn't for one minute doubt what the outcome would be, how Justin would emerge victoriously, getting her to perform according to the vagaries of his every sexual and erotic whim.

No sooner had Justin pulled up in front of the farmhouse, than he rubbed his hands together and turned to glance over at Pam Harper. She was staring straight ahead, her eyes having taken on a kind of lost and glassy look. He watched her for a moment and then let himself out of the car.

The air was thick with the smells of verdure, lush vegetation and clean mountain air. But even more than that, Justin could smell the characteristically animal aromas, which wafted through the air. It was a scent he had always relished, a heavy earthy smell, manure and sweaty livestock, all mingling into an elusive perfume which began to immediately arouse his senses and heighten his sexual plans and expectations about the weekend's singularly uninhibited activities.

Pam followed him out of the car, a little surprised that Lloyd hadn't come out of the house to greet them. She let the dogs out and they scampered off, running around to the back of the house. Leaving Bix and Holmes to their own inquisitive canine devices, she moved towards Justin.

He was seemingly lost in thought, but the minute she reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, he jerked to attention and looked down at her with a broad and toothy grin, a smile that was at once comforting yet disarming.

"Methinks friend Lloyd is up to some tricks of his own," Justin said with a sly little wink.

He took hold of her hand and having been to the farm before, he had no trouble leading Pam around the back of the silent house to where he remembered Lloyd kept his livestock.

Sure enough, a ramshackle but still upright wooden structure behind the house proved to be the barn where the animals were paddocked when they weren't out grazing in the fields which stretched out around them.

And, even more than that, Justin could feel the tension in the air, the silence broken by the rustle of leaves in the trees, by the droning buzz of insects and honeybees. No birds broke the quietude with a restless chirping call. But if he failed to hear birds singing, he didn't fail to hear something snorting and whinnying with loud and almost painful insistence.

Pam heard the sounds too. They emanated from the barn and Justin led her right in their direction. They grew louder, painful neighs and whinnies, a cacophony of snorting thunderous cries and stomping hooves. "What's going on in there?" she whispered, a little frightened as she held onto his hand, clutching at his arm while they stood by the sliding door which led into the old wooden barn.

"Want to take a peek?" he said, winking at her once again. He knew exactly what was going on inside of the barn, having enjoyed the act the last time he had spent a weekend at the farm. But he didn't intend to tell Pam, wanting to surprise her, curious to see how aroused she would become. And not only by what his lusty and sexually insatiable friend was doing, but also by the fact of Lloyd's singularly amazing generative parts.

"A disease, the result of some childish malaise, fever of the brain," he had once said jokingly to Justin.