And she had several more weeks to spend here. Could she withstand the onslaught that was sure to come later on?
These and other similar questions whirled about in her mind as she got to her feet and gathered the remnants of her dress around her body. The world still whirled around in front of her eyes. Unsteadily she stumbled toward the opened door. Leaning heavily against the framework, Patty stared out into the late afternoon. How peaceful it was! The cool air felt good against her flesh. Closing her eyes, Patty inhaled the fresh, sweet-smelling air. It was going to be a clear summer night. Already she could make out a star or two twinkling in the darkening blue sty. Oh, it was a wonderful time of day!
Suddenly Patty buried her face in the torn remnants of her dress and rushed across the yard to the bow, praying she wouldn't meet her cousin Jack on the way. She felt her thighs and buttocks jiggling as she bolted up the stairs, rushed down the hall and stumbled into her bedroom. Only when she bolted the door did she feel safe.
"Oh mama, mama…"
Throwing herself across the bed, Patty sobbed and wailed, flailing the mattress with her clenched fists, wetting down the pillows with her tears until sleep gradually comforted the young woman.
That night she tossed and turned in her sleep, tortured by dreams of Jack and what he'd done to her. She kept seeing herself spread out on that filthy horse blanket, her white body contrasting against the dirty black of that woolen coverlet while Jack crawled on top of her, mounting her, sticking that wonderful cock into her virgin pussy. Oh, how ninny times she came that night while towing unconsciously at the wrinkled sheets!
The next morning Patty woke up exhausted. It was several hours more before she rose, nabbed the sleep from her eyes and slid off the bed. And through her shower the girl wondered how she could possibly look at Jack across the dining room table without giving away what had taken place between them. Surely her aunt and uncle would see something, notice a twitch, a look, a gesture that would tell them the two of them had been fucking.
Slipping on the most modest dress she could find, Patty opened the door and peered nervously down the hall. No, Jack wasn't waiting for her, ready to pounce and fuck. Down the corridor she could hear sounds from the kitchen. It was nearly nine o'clock, hours past the time when a farm family rose. Brushing her hair back, Patty walked down the hall, feeling her heart pounding wildly as she reached the top of the stairs. She heard her aunt talking to someone.
"Well, there she is," Aunt Martha said, putting both hands on her hips and smiling broadly.
The kitchen table was spread with the remnants of a heavy breakfast. One dish lay clean at one end. The scene looked so bright and cheery and innocent. Patty nearly cried as she slid into her chair.
"Sorry I'm late," the girl said in a bright voice, desperately wondering if anyone could tell that she'd been fucked the night before.
"That's okay, honey. You're here on vacation, although I hope you can help me out now and then," her aunt said, turning on the griddle and pouring out more pancake batter.
Patty twisted around in her chair, resting her head in her hands. It was always so good watching her aunt bustling around in the kitchen. Martha was one of those women who seemed destined to work behind a stove, a perpetual cook.
"Jack was asking about you this morning," Martha said, her back still to Patty.
Patty felt the blood drain from her face. "Oh?"
"You've certainly turned my son's head," the older woman chuckled, scraping the pancakes from the griddle onto Patty's plate.
The girl tried to ignore the hot, mushy feeling between her shivering legs. The mention of her cousin's name was enough to set her off. Picking up her fork with icy fingers, Patty pushed her food around. Ohhhh, would it always be this way? Would her cunt always be dripping with juice? Her cuntlips curled back from the rising heat, quivering with anticipation… anticipation of what? The thought of what she wanted, of what she needed, made her tremble. She had to set her fork down and regain control of herself.
"Something wrong, honey?"
Patty couldn't look at her aunt. She shook her head, then managed a smile as she picked up her fork and forced herself to eat. Oh, what would become of her? How successfully would she be able to hide her guilty feelings when they bubbled to the surface so easily?
CHAPTER FOUR
Shopping with her aunt that afternoon didn't help Patty at all. Every time a boy looked searchingly at her, Patty was certain he knew she'd been fucked, knew she was hot, eager to have a roll in the hay. It felt as if she were wearing some sort of badge letting men know her pussy was theirs for the asking. Chills swept over her body at those times, chills that made her pussy grow hot and tense, her clit pop out from the surrounding moist flesh and become eager for a man's touch. Oh, how hard it was for her to walk then, to talk casually to her aunt while her mind thought of only one thing – fucking! She pulled the packages over her tits like a shield, forcing herself to appear cold when actually her pussy was so warm, so wet, tensing every time a man gave her more than a casual stare.
"Are you sure you aren't coming down with something?" her aunt kept asking whenever Patty would lean against a wall and fight for breath. It was difficult to talk to her aunt, to hide her real feelings. Would she be like this all the time? Would her mind do nothing except center on her cunt and think about ways she could satisfy it?
All the way home she kept thinking about her cousin Jack – about his firm body. Sitting in the car, Patty watched the countryside speed by, her pussy spasming as she thought about Jack and the night he'd popped her cherry.
"Maybe I'd better call Doc Adams on over," Aunt Martha said as they pulled into the drive.
Patty caught sight of her cousin leaning against the barn, his flannel shirt tucked carelessly in the back of his Levi's. Patty blushed, then went white when she saw his crotch.
"You are coming down with something," Aunt Martha said, feeling Patty's forehead with the back of one hand.
"No, really I'm not," she protested.
"Now, now, no excuses, young lady. You just hustle yours up to bed. Your mother'd be screaming down the walls if she thought I wasn't taking good care of you. Now scoot!"
Patty avoided Jack's glance as she hurried from the car and into the old farmhouse. She could feel his glance shifting over her body. The tips of her tits were so hard that it felt as if they were about to pierce through the stiff material of her bra. Her pussy was twitching. Her cuntlips seemed to curl and tremble while her clit popped up again. She could barely walk to the stairs, holding tightly onto the banister and inhaling deeply to regain her strength. The creaking of the front screen door told her Aunt Martha was coming in. She couldn't let her aunt see her like this!
"I… I'm really fine. I just need a little rest. Probably a cold or something," Patty mumbled, dragging herself up the stairs.
Twice she had to stop, her fingers tightly gripping around the banister. The friction of her cuntlips slipping over her swollen clit nearly brought her to her knees. She panted heavily, feeling like a bitch in heat as she stumbled to her bedroom. Behind her she could hear her aunt's voice answered by Jack's. The thought of her cousin down there, only a few feet away from her, made her tremble. Oh, she had to get control of herself. She just couldn't stay here and move around like a zombie, wondering what Jack would do next, wondering if she could keep herself from revealing her terrible secret.
Quietly she lay down, keeping her arms at her sides, staring at the cracked plaster ceiling. For the next few hours Patty tried to think of her home, of her mother, of her school and friends. Whenever the image of Jack's face or body started drifting into her thoughts, she shook her head violently as if shaking them from her mind. Surprisingly it seemed to work. As the minutes ticked slowly by, Patty found she became more reined, less apprehensive about her surroundings. Surely she'd found an answer to her problems. Surely.