Toni Scott: Searching For Satisfaction

"Okay."

When dinner was on the table, Jerry came in. He talked constantly about what had happened that day. Not once did he ask Karen or his father how their day went. He spent all the time telling them how his went. He didn't even slow down when they were relaxing around the fireplace after dinner.

Even when they moved on to the bedroom, he talked. While Karen was changing into her nighty, he stayed inside the bathroom with the door closed, but she could still hear his talking through the closed door.

When they were in bed with the lights out, he was still talking. It was then that Karen reached over and touched him on the stomach.

"Don't do that," he interrupted his tale about some new changes he was going to make at the store. "I've had a busy day and I need my rest."

Karen rolled over on her side with her back toward him. She didn't remember going to sleep but she felt as though she still heard his constant chatter as she slept.

George kept the two of them busy for the next day. Karen enjoyed riding around with him… the long walks and the serious talks.

When he suggested they go horseback riding, Karen was elated. She had always loved to ride but she had just never had the chance. She had gone with a group of girls once and the memory of it was a good one.

Karen didn't have any riding apparel so she wore some jeans and a loose-fitting shirt that George handed to her. He surveyed her, and said, "Let me get the scissors. I want to see your legs."

With the scissors he cut the jeans legs… not quite to her crotch but close enough. Then he unraveled some of the cut so that the jeans seemed to have the legs torn out rather than cut out.

"I think you look mighty exciting now, Karen," George said when he surveyed his handiwork. "A woman should always look exciting. Always."

Karen knew he meant it, and she did feel exciting. The cut-off jeans almost revealed her pubic hair, but yet it didn't. The man's shirt hung loose, yet the nipples of her tits showed their outline in the material. She felt the material rubbing her nipples when she moved, and this only added to her excitement.

"I have a small place out in the country," George was saying. "I keep a couple of horses there and some stock."

"Who takes care of them," Karen asked.

"I have a high school student, a boy who loves animals. He takes care of them after school. Usually he sleeps out there on the weekends, in the tack room."

When they reached the small farm, George parked and said, "Let's go into the tack room and get the saddles."

Karen followed him inside the dim room. "Does it ever get lonesome out here for the boy?"

"I doubt it. He loves animals, too."

"I might get lonesome if I was here all alone," Karen said.

"I would never let you get lonesome," George said. He turned to her and took her by the shoulders. For a moment he looked deep into her eyes.

Karen knew he could see the need there. Now George pulled her to him.

For just a moment Karen stiffened, then she relaxed.

He hugged her to him and again she stiffened, uncertain about her feelings. She needed him, but would he only tease her, or would he see it through.

George started caressing her back, and his touch felt good to her. She wished he would put his hands under the shirt and touch her bare back.

Instead George pulled her tighter to his body.

Karen's uncertainty gave way to hot eagerness as chills raced along her spine. She gave a deep gasp and thrust her body to his and tightened her own grip on him. Eyes closed, she tilted her face up for his kiss.

His lips covered hers and pressed. Karen liked the moist warm feel of them, her breath on his cheeks was a series of irregular hot puffs. She lost herself in the utter lust of the moment and touched his mouth with the tip of her tongue. His body tensed convulsively, his arms crushing the breath from her lungs, and his tongue, hard and insistent, drove between her parted lips and past her teeth.

Shivers raced through Karen's body. She gulped. Placing one hand on the back of George's neck, she let her fingertips rub the stiff hair while her other hand clutched at the firm muscles on his back. His grip lifted her until her toes left the floor and her body arched to fit the bend in his warm soft flesh clasped to hot, strong angles. The bulge of his hard-on pressed brutally into the smoothness of her lower abdomen, and Karen let her mound ride against the base of the heavy cylinder.

Raising one foot behind her, her thighs grinding on his, Karen pushed her small pussy into him, grinding it.

She felt George's hand reaching around her to the zipper on the jeans.

He brought the small metal fastener downward.

Karen twisted but she was helpless in the iron of his grasp, somehow this excited her and made things seem better. She felt goose pimples rising on her arms as she felt the fiery waves of excitement caused when she felt him loosening the waist band of her jeans. The cutoffs slipped to the bulges of her hips and rested there.

Now George's tongue filled her mouth. Its tip blocked the arch of her throat and its sides lay between her teeth. Karen felt his fingers inside the settling cutoffs, working them downward onto her thighs. Her hips jerked desperately, she didn't know why she was fighting him when it felt so good, but she had to fight some or it would all be all too wanton and wicked.

His unyielding grip robbed her of any way to prevent the disastrous movement of the garment.

She shivered excitedly as his fingers pushed down across the tissuethin fabric of her panties and onto the bare flesh of her upper thigh.

Past her rounded asscheeks, her jeans fell of their own weight. She groaned. She felt torn between her sex hunger that flooded her being, and the fact that she was still remembering the things her mother had said… that it was wrong to enjoy her natural sexual drives… evil!

Now George lowered her to the floor and turned her. She lay back on his arm, her side against him and her front exposed to his caress. He rubbed his palm on the front of her panties and flattened the springy bulge her pubic hair produced. She trembled, her mouth covered by the continued pressure of his kiss. George slid his hand upward and her shirt rode ahead of it, and she felt the fiery thrills darting through her belly.

Karen let her fingers tighten convulsively on the back of George's neck as she felt his broad palm cup her breast. She writhed, feeling helpless, as he kneaded the sensitive globe.

She moaned, "Oh, George, I don't know… I don't know whether…"

"Does it feel good?"

"Yessss. Oh yesssss, you know it does."

"Then don't fight it."

Karen shivered. She didn't really want to fight it, yet she felt she should. She had been taught that it was wrong during her young teenaged days at home with her mother. Then her problem with Jerry. Yes, she should fight it, but she didn't want to. If George took her completely, if this time he continued, then maybe he would think she was a little bitch in heat. Karen sighed deeply and shivered with passion.

She sensed that they were moving, but the more immediate sensations produced by his caresses were too urgent to permit more than a fleeting concern. She felt hard, rounded surfaces at her back and George was bent over her. He pressed her against full sacks of grain. Her ass rested against rough burlap, and she felt the coarse twine that closed the mouth of the top sack rubbing harshly at the small of her back.

Her feet were widely parted for support. Her knees were flexed and Karen felt her hips undulate, as if they had a mind of their own. Now they twisted violently in response to the excitement George was giving her.

He released her mouth and thrust his wet lips into the hollow of her throat. Arching backward, Karen let the back of her head rest on the sack and stared at the crude rafters of the shed. Aware that he had stopped massaging her breast through the stiffness of her bra cup, she felt a moment's resentment at the assurance with which he was treating her. He had withdrawn his burning hand from her full tit and was calmly and skillfully unfastening the buttons of her shirt.