With her eyes closed, she imagined the cock of the stallion she was riding. She wondered what it smelled like. She wondered how it felt to the touch. Although the filthy thoughts excited more intense feelings in her pussy, her conscience got the better of her, and she forced the thoughts away.
Just think about the feelings, she told herself. Oh, the feelings! Feels so good!
Grinding her pussy against the back of the stallion, leaking trickles of pussyjuice down his black fur, she clung to his neck and, rode him. He moved faster, bouncing her, sending shock waves of sensation through her loins. It wasn't the first time she'd, rubbed herself off while riding a horse, but it was the first time she'd done it riding bareback, the first time she'd done it without any clothes on. She imagined her mother standing at the crest of the hill and looking down at her, watching her every scandalous gyration, listening to her every gasp of girl jib pleasure.
The stallion snorted. Tossed his head. Cindy clung to him for her life, grinding her tits against him, grinding her cunt against him. Her cunt sizzled, turning to a blast furnace inside. In her excitement, her asshole opened momentarily, allowing the breeze to lick the edges of her pucker. Cindy felt the wicked urge to reach beck and wiggle a finger up into her asshole.
She'd never in her life experienced such wicked, perverted desires. She humped the stallion's back in a frenzy, the fuck sensations whirling in her loins, steaming through her legs, pounding through her asshole and tits. She'd leaked so much cunt juice that the stallion's back was slicker than a greased pig between her lop.
The stallion tossed his head again, and reared up as if trying to throw her off. She glimpsed the coupled dogs, saw the quivering flanks of the stud as he pumped his jism up the bitch's burning cunthole. She slammed her cunt against the stallion's spine and exploded with pleasure.
"Ohhhh, yesssss!" she whined, bucking uncontrollably, panting fiercely, her toes clutching, her eyes rolling, the explosions going off in her pussy again and again. "I feel it! Huh, huh, ohhhh!"
The stallion pawed the ground and tossed his head as Cindy spasmed against his back. If she hadn't had a vise-like grip on him with her arms and legs, he would have thrown her off. She clung to him, humping his back until she'd squeezed out every twinge of hot pleasure.
Finally, she slid off him, getting her tits and belly wet in the process with the fuck juices she'd leaked on his fur. She had never in her life leaked so much pussyjuice while rubbing off.
Her cunt was sopping wet. Pussyjuice trickled down her legs. Black horsehair stuck to the pussycream that, had rubbed off on her tits and belly.
Once over the crest of the hill, she ran, her tits flapping like water balloons. Halfway down the hill, she retrieved her clothes and quickly put them on. She continued running until she'd reached the house. She needed to take a bath and wash the evidence of sin off her body.
CHAPTER TWO
Cindy stepped out of the bathtub and patted herself dry with a thick, fluffy towel. She'd let her hair down, and it hung straight, well past her shoulders. Since she'd kept her hair pinned up in recent months, never letting it down when her mother could see it, her mother never realized just how long it had grown lately. It was blonde and lustrous, satiny. Her mother would have been furious to see it so long, would have called it a vain and sinful display.
Cindy spread a thin layer of baby oil all over her body, giving her smooth skin a sheen and a sweet scent. Her pussy was still pulsating pleasantly from her jerk-off, but she tried not to dwell on the sensations for fear she'd be tempted to jerk-off again. She couldn't let masturbation become a habit.
The house was quieter than it had ever been, and Cindy realized that she'd never been alone in the house for any length of time without her mother being somewhere nearby to watch her every move and to give her orders. Her mother's constant presence in the house had been like a noise, and now that noise was gone.
Cindy pulled on panties, jeans, and a clean white blouse. She didn't bother to put on a bra or shoes. It was wicked not to wear a bra, but not terribly wicked. The freedom she felt exhilarated her.
She took a novel she'd been secretly reading out into the sunshine with her and relaxed on the porch swing. It was delightful to be able to read without her mother's interference. Her mother disapproved of her reading any books but the Bible, religious books, and her school textbooks, and she'd have burned the novel if she'd ever discovered Cindy with it.
Cindy became so engrossed in her book that she didn't hear the car until it had pulled up alongside the house. She dropped her book and watched a man climb out and head for the porch, wiping his brow with a handkerchief.
"Morning," he said. "A touch warm, ain't it?"
He wore a sport shirt and carried a large suitcase.
"My parents aren't home," Cindy said.
"Well then, that makes you the lady of the house, don't it, young lady? And I'm here to talk to the lady of the house." He climbed up onto the porch.
Cindy didn't know whether to slip into the house and slam the door, which is what her mother had always done when confronted by traveling salesmen – unless they were Bible salesmen – or to simply tell the man that she wasn't interested, and that he should leave. She thought of something even better.
"I don't have any money," she said. "I can't buy anything."
"I can come back later and make a delivery when you have some money," the man said. "But as long as I'm here now, we can fit you with a new pair of shoes right now. How does that sound?"
"Well…"
"I knew the second I drove up that you'd be in need of new shoes. My, look at those pretty young feet, all bare and in need of new shoes." He dropped the suitcase on the porch in front of Cindy and knelt at her feet. He opened the suitcase, which was stuffed with women's shoes in various colors.
"I really don't need…"
"Here's a pair oughta fit you." He grabbed Cindy's left foot and jammed a blue shoe onto it. He jammed one onto her other foot. "Ain't that pretty? Shows off your toes real nice, don't it? Get up now and see how they feel."
Cindy didn't know what to do. She stood up and clopped around the porch in the shoes.
"Too tight," she said. "Look, I really don't…"
"Sit right down here and we'll fit you with another pair."
With a sigh of resignation, Cindy plopped her ass back down on the porch swing and let the salesman fit her with another pair of shoes. Ironically now, she wished her mother were there to handle the situation.
"Where's your folks?" salesman shoved a larger, red pair of high heels onto her feet. "Gone to town," Cindy said.
"Expect 'em back soon?"
"Not for hours, and I don't think they'll have any money when they get back, either."
"Hmm. Ain't them shoes gorgeous, honey? I got a daughter about your age, a pretty girl just like you, and she owns a pair just like 'em."
"They're still too tight," Cindy said. "Look, I really…"
"Oh, I hope I ain't hurt your pretty feet forcing 'em into tight shoes." He pulled the shoes off and started rubbing her toes.
Cindy giggled nervously. "Don't!"
She tried to pull her feet away.
The salesman held on. He took a firmer hold on her feet, his fingers and thumbs digging in as he massaged.
"Just relax. I'm a man who knows about girls' feet. I'm an expert of sorts. Yes sir, a real expert on pleasing a lady's feet. You got pretty feet, girl. Yes sir, real pretty."
Cindy couldn't deny that the massage felt good, but she couldn't relax in the presence of this strange salesman. His face was all red, sweat beaded on his forehead, and he was breathing louder and faster by the second.