The Cottonwood Stud Ranch
Part One
The summer sky was clear but for a few scudding wisps of cirrus clouds and sun-kissed fields of wheat swayed in a warm breeze. Everything was pretty and picturesque as a postcard, Liam had to admit.
…and he was lost as hell in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere.
In hindsight, the optimism with which he began the road trip from Los Angeles to Detroit was outright foolhardy. The prospect of a thirty-four-hour slog across the nation in his eleven-year-old Prius had seemed like small beans relative to the chance of pressing the reset button on an otherwise unremarkable existence in a new city with considerably lower property prices.
The glamor of LA had waned long ago for the middle-aged freelance app developer.
Toiling over reams of code all day and night—hunting for that next elusive Play Store hit—left no time for himself or any semblance of a personal life. He was barely scraping by on rent (which increased at every lease renewal) and the hellish traffic…
No, the City of Angels could kiss Liam’s butt goodbye as he rode off into the sunset towards a brighter tomorrow.
Well, drove off, actually, with depressingly few belongings tumbling off the rear seat. The badly rutted backroads were punishing his hybrid’s suspension.
He had tried to shave some distance off the interstate journey by traveling a more scenic route, taking the opportunity to explore less traveled paths and avoid the mind-numbing drudgery of navigating the busy highways.
Except now, Liam was prodding at his phone uselessly while dodging potholes somewhere on the ass-end of Kansas.
Cell service had dropped out several miles back, and in a final stroke of blind injustice, the GPS lost its signal with an informative blip.
“You’ve got to be shitting me. How do you lose a satellite connection?”
Swiping away the notification, he poked at the display map, not watching the road or noticing the sharp turn before it was too late.
An hour later, Liam sat on the ground, nursing a goose egg swelling on his bruised temple.
His car was crumpled against a tree, the lightweight aluminum hood accordioned in on itself, and radiator leaking. At least nothing was on fire. No Hollywood eruption of flames consumed the last of his worldly possessions in a dramatic conflagration.
Just the spirit-crushing epiphany that he was well and truly fucked.
The screen on his phone was shattered, but it still functioned. Mostly. Zero bars of reception and not a soul for miles around. Was that why they called them “country miles?” Vast and empty except for the endless sea of grain and nary a sign of civilization beyond the strip of cracked asphalt winding through it.
“You really screwed the pooch this time, Liam”
Staggering to his feet with a groan, the rumble of an approaching engine cut through the funk of self-loathing as an olive green pick-up truck rounded the same corner he had missed, rolling to a stop a few feet away.
It was a classic dentside Ford, complete with a split grill, windshield visor, and the racing eagle stripe on the side. Slightly battered but serviceable. Bales of hay were tied down in the bed, and a decal of steer horns peeled in flakes off the bonnet.
A head of long blonde hair eased out the driver’s side window, and brilliant blue eyes drank him in from under the brim of a white Stetson hat.
“You alright over there? Looks like you’re in a spot of bother, stranger.”
Liam almost wept with relief. Salvation had arrived in the form of a beautiful country girl, cowboy hat and all. He stumbled over to her, waving his busted phone like a signal beacon.
“Please, help me! I got lost on my way to Detroit and ran off the road. May I borrow your phone to call a tow?”
“Gee, Mister, I can see that. Detroit, you say? You’ve been blown well off course to wind up in these parts.” She replied, glancing past Liam to his wrecked vehicle. “Don’t have a fancy phone or nothing. They don’t work too well out here anyhow.”
“I—I think I learned that the hard way.” His stomach dropped at the news. “Can you tell me how far is the nearest town?”
“That’d be Stockton in Rooks County. It’s a three-hour drive away. Are you sure you ain’t hurt? There’s a doozy of a bump on your noggin.”
Leaning against the truck for support, Liam got a closer view of his rescuer. She was startlingly pretty in a girl-next-door fashion. Definitely young with wide cerulean eyes, a cute button nose, and rosy cheeks framed by honey-colored locks flowing from beneath her wide-brimmed hat.
However, his attention was drawn to a droplet of summer sweat on the girl’s neck. Fixating on it as it grew slowly larger, sliding down her slender neck and into the generous swell of cleavage constrained by a tied-off red flannel shirt.
“I, um… I’m fine… I think.” He mumbled, suddenly tongue-tied and a little dizzy. “I need to get to Detroit… or to a phone at least. It’s very important.”
“You look paler than a sheet, Mister. Tell you what, I’ll give you a lift to the homestead. It’s only a short way off, and Miss Lily can take a gander at your melon.” The blonde tapped at her temple, indicating the injured region. “She’ll make sure you didn’t knock any marbles loose in the crash. We’ll get some hot grub in you, then decide where to go from there. That’s the best I can offer.”
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Liam nodded and climbed in the passenger side. The bench seat was surprisingly well-maintained, and the girl grinned merrily as he settled in with a boot-scooting squeak of ancient vinyl.
“Goodness, where are my manners?” she said, extending a small hand. “A girl shouldn’t ride with strangers. The name’s Gabriella. Put it there, Mister...”
She let the sentence dangle from her smiling lips until he took the obvious cue.
“Liam. Call me Liam, and thank you.” They shook then Gabriella put the truck in gear. “Did I say that already? I wouldn’t have lasted another hour if you hadn’t found me.”
“Pleased to meet you, Liam and don’t mention it. Folks look out for each other around here. Real friendly-like, you’ll see. We’ll have you back on your feet in no time.”
For Liam, the journey passed as if in a dream. Whether from the head injury or the oppressive heat of the truck’s cab, he didn’t know. It could have been a combination of both.
Gabriella was a cheerful sort, peppering him with questions and prattling on in her midwestern country accent.
He answered inquiries about his job and what Los Angeles was like—did he know any famous movie stars? No, he wasn’t married. He tried to explain code development through a mind stuffed with cotton wool while struggling not to ogle a girl young enough to be the teenage daughter he never had.
She was briefly attired in little denim cut-offs that barely covered her bubbly rear, brown cowgirl boots with curly stitching, the aforementioned flannel shirt knotted under her spectacular tits, and the obligatory stetson. It left a lot of firm, supple flesh out on display, and the way she jiggled and bounced over each rough patch of road was terribly distracting.
“That means you’re really smart, right? ” Gabriella teased a ringlet of golden hair down into the deep valley of her prodigious breasts, drawing Liam’s gaze. “Working with computers and complicated numbers sounds awful… hard.”
The emphasis on that word and the increasingly smoky glances she kept sending his direction didn’t help the swelling in his jeans or the pounding headache clouding his better judgment.
“I am—I mean, it is… uh, challenging, but that’s why I love it. Well-written code can be beautiful. Elegant. When everything fits together just right and works seamlessly. There’s an art to that which most people don’t appreciate.”
There. Bullet dodged. Yay for him.
The throbbing ache in Liam’s skull and crotch didn’t get the message, though.
“Beautiful... elegant… you talk about code like it’s a lady,” Gabriella giggled, stroking the gear stick suggestively. “I bet those big city girls go weak at the knees for that huge brain of yours, speaking that way.”
“Not really. There haven’t been any girls—I mean women, uh… in a very long time.”
The words were difficult to say, partly because of the sting of the truth but mainly because Liam was preoccupied, watching Gabriella’s dainty hand slide up and down. He shifted uncomfortably on the seat, attempting to obscure the pressing bulge below.
”What, how is that possible?” Fingers fled the transmission lever to cover her strawberry lips, circled in an astonished ‘oh.’ “But Liam, you’re clever and funny. A real sweetheart with a kind heart and, if you don’t mind me saying, easy on the eyes.”
“That’s very nice of you… ah, why are we stopping?”
Gabriella coasted the truck onto the deserted shoulder and set the brake before turning her entire breathtaking body to face him. The movement brought her knees up on the bench seat and angled her propped-up chest for a front-row view. The concern in those ocean-blue eyes was back in spades.
“I don’t mean to pry, truly, but how long have you been single?” Her stare was intense, and tears welled when he only shrugged a reply. “You poor thing! No one should have to feel alone, cut off from the world, starving for human affection.”
Liam was struck dumb by the abrupt nearness and vehement empathy emanating from the innocent angel less than an arm’s length away.
How could he articulate the complicated cocktail of low self-worth and career anxiety that had made him a social hermit? Or explain the hair-wrenching complexities of the algorithm that was online dating? Never mind meeting someone at a bar; that would require courage and machismo, two traits he sorely lacked.
“Never found the time.” It was a lame excuse, tragically cliche, but the cab was sweltering, and his head felt like a drum line was stomping out a parade performance inside. Surprising, given most of his blood had pooled in his hardening groin. “It’s fine—”
“It’s not fine. Don’t say that!” Gabriella’s outburst shocked them both, and she lowered her head, twiddling nervous fingers. “Sorry, but I know a little about how it feels, you know? It may sound naive, but I’m the youngest person on the farm, and nobody takes me seriously.
“Miss Lily is always busy, Dad died when I was a baby, and my older sisters are very pretty. They get all the attention, leaving me forgotten in their shadows, you know? Goodness, you must think me stupid for babbling…”
“No, I don’t.” Liam’s hand was on her bare thigh without prompting from his brain. It felt wonderfully silky and firm as a peach. “Think you’re stupid, that is. Feeling ignored is tough, but you’re young and beautiful with a whole life ahead of you.”
“You honestly think I’m beautiful?” She asked in a small, pleading voice, shuffling closer. “No man’s ever called me beautiful.”
Liam tried to pull away, to take back his fumbling words and regain some control of the moment. Gabriella rested a palm over his hand, trapping it against her tender flesh, and moaned.
It was a quiet noise that may have well been the deafening crack of a starter pistol for his engorged dick. It lurched in his jeans, and Liam adjusted again to ease the excruciating pressure.
That was a mistake. Haydley’s downcast eyes locked on the conspicuous lump like a targeting system. A gasp escaped her lips before the plaintive expression on her endearing face took on an impish quality.
“Heavens forgive me, babbling about my silly troubles while you are obviously in pain.” She crooned, leaning in until her warm breath brushed his cheek. “Can I help you with that, Liam, please? I promise to be a good girl and make you feel better. I’ve never done something like this, but I’ve fantasized about it many times.”
Her beguiling country-girl body was perfection personified, pressing into him. Thick curves in all the right places, trim and toned everywhere else. There was defined muscle on her flat tummy and slender limbs, signs of healthy farm living with no hint of excess fat except where it counted.
She could have starred as a pin-up girl for the bread bowl of America—enticingly young, brilliantly blonde, and incredibly buxom—attracting droves of laborers to the struggling agro-industries of the midwest.
“We shouldn’t.” Liam gasped, hips jerking uncontrollably when Gabriella traced the outline of his turgidity. Her abundant tit-flesh sandwiched his shoulder in cocooning softness as she melded against his side. “I’m old enough to be your father…”
A girlish giggle trilled from her kissable lips, curling around the shell of his ear, and she squirmed adorably against him.
“Then tell me what to do. Teach me a lesson… Daddy.”
The pounding in Liam’s skull suddenly seemed secondary to the thundering heartbeat in his crotch. When she released him from the too-tight slacks, his steely length leaped at her caressing touch. Delicate fingers wrapped around him and lightly squeezed.
A litany of insane scenarios stampeded through his mind like herds of frightened sheep.
What did she think about his size? Wasn’t he too old for this nubile Venus? Could this be some sick game she played on forlorn travelers before kicking them to the literal curb? Would she have her fun, then leave him abandoned, or worse?
“Wow, Daddy. You’re stiff and hard for me already.” Gabriella cooed, nuzzling his chin. “I bet it aches something fierce. Please, may I take care of it for you?”
She gave him a few testing strokes, small fingers gliding up and down in a relaxed but insistent rhythm, twisting around the enraged tip, then descending again. The press of her firm body and perfume of clean sweat blended with fresh laundry were intoxicating. Strangely wholesome and comforting in a moment that was anything but.
“I—I want to, but…” Liam croaked, tongue dry as old boot leather. “You can’t want this… not with me. Not someone as perfect as you.”
“My only desire is to make you feel good, Daddy. Please say you’ll let me. Pleeease,” the teenage bombshell begged, rubbing against his side and peppering his jaw with tiny kisses. “I’ve dreamed about a man like you for years—a handsome stranger who will love me and save me from loneliness and despair. Even if it’s just for a little while, let me be your special girl, please?”
She still held his hand on her thigh, tugging it higher until Liam’s fingers grazed against the damp strip of denim covering her pussy.
“Oh god.” He rasped, spurting an exuberant glob of precum. “You’re actually wet.”
“Wet for you, Daddy.” She moaned, shoving his fingers deeper, stroking him faster. “You had me all hot and bothered the second you climbed into my truck. I was destined to be yours the moment I spotted you stranded there, as though the almighty had finally answered my prayers. Please, permit me to be your good girl.”
Liam’s brain was a kaleidoscope of warring emotions. The migraine took a backseat as other more primal, nearly forgotten urges reared up in its place.
This lovely, wounded dove, fallen to earth, was pleading desperately for his affection—a kindred spirit suffering silently in these isolated backwaters. An unfamiliar kernel of masculine instinct stirred in his skinny chest. The need to protect and possess this fragile flower blazed through him as she panted out passionate breaths.
“Alright. Fine. Fuck, you’re goddamn amazing.” Liam jerked in her pumping fist, skirting the verge of eruption. “If this is what you want, baby girl, then take it!”
“Thank you, Daddy!” Gabriella squealed, lunging forward to suck him between her plump lips and swallowing his throbbing shaft in a single, swift motion. “Hmmmnph!”
Her enormous chest flattened against his lap when she took him to the base with a throaty gulp. The stetson rolled into a footwell, forgotten. Laim shuddered and twitched at the feel of her tight esophagus engulfing his bulbous tip. She held herself there, completely impaled on his immodest manhood, massaging it with small swallowing constrictions.
“Oh… oh shit!” He stammered, gripping her blonde tresses like they were the safety bar on a rollercoaster. “How are you do-doing that?”
Gabriella smiled around her mouthful of dick. He actually felt her lips curling, before forming a suctioning seal and beginning to move. She made lewd gagging noises, swiveling her bobbing head at different angles to rub him against her tongue and cheeks, attempting to coat every last tastebud with his manly essence.
Liam’s hips bucked off the seat involuntarily, driving into the eager blonde’s lovely face. In a flash of horrified self-consciousness, he realized what he was doing and released the fist clutching her voluminous hair.
“Fuck, too rough—”
“Nooooo, Daddy!” She gurgled lustily, seizing his wrist to drag it back. “Mmhmmm….”
It was as though Gabriella was steering him toward new heights of hedonism. With one of his hands snared between her slick, grinding thighs and the other pressed against her suckling skull Liam blearily wondered who was teaching whom.
Then his churning balls klaxoned a final alarm, and all remaining rational thought abandoned ship.
“Fuck, Gabby! I’m about to—”
The warning was cut short when carnal static buzzed every nerve and grounded itself in his tumescent lightning rod, sparking a bone-rattling release straight down her cock-gargling throat.
It exploded from Liam in thick, gooey spurts that turned his legs to jelly and flooded his tortured brain with endorphins. Spots danced in his vision as what felt like the biggest load of his life barrelled into the gorgeous farm girl’s ravenous belly.
“Mmmmff!” Gabriella slurped and mewled happily, sucking diligently until she had swallowed every last drop before coming up for air. “Ah! Goodness, Daddy, that sure seemed like a lot. You might be what we farm folk call a ‘big producer.’”
“Uh-huh, that’s nice.” Liam floated weightlessly in a blissful post-nut haze unlike any he had experienced. “Thanks… I think?”
“That was incredible. I didn’t know it would be so exciting to do that with a guy.” She wiped her mouth daintily, then gave him a long smooch on the cheek. “I’ll need to change my panties when we get back. Shorts too. It’s a total mess down there.”
Gabriella continued babbling merrily as she started the truck and got them on the road again. Liam listened with a dopy half-smile enjoying the sweet sound of her voice tinged with that cute country twang.
He dozed on and off as the interminable fields of wheat blurred together until a rough access road broke mind-numbing monotony with a carved timber sign arching above the gate. He mustered enough focus to read it as they passed underneath.
“Welcome to the Cottonwood Stud Ranch.”
“Wakey wakey, sleepy head. We’re here.”
Blinking drowsily, Liam yawned, then jolted upright when reality returned to him in a rush. The memory of letting a lonely young woman—hardly more than a teenager, really—give him a world-class blowjob held a slightly predatory sting.
Had that actually happened, or was it a sick delusion conjured by his head injury? He ardently prayed it was the latter.
Turning like a man about to face the gallows, Liam looked at Gabriella. She was still there, bright and beautiful as ever, with those sky-blue orbs and pearly whites flashing cheerily back at him.
“Good, you’re awake. C’mon, handsome. I’ll introduce you to Miss Lily, and she’ll look after that lump on your noggin. Make sure you don’t have a concussion.”
As though summoned, the migraine resurfaced, chipping away at his frontal lobe with a mining pick.
“Ugh. Yes, please. My head is killing me.” He fumbled with the door and almost fell when it swung outward.
Gabriella was already there, catching him with surprising strength for her small stature. She held Liam upright until the world stopped spinning and the sight of a colonial-era farmhouse swirled into view.
It was a sprawling two-story edifice with white stucco walls, a slate-tiled roof, tall columns, and shaded wrap-around verandas. A genuine wicker rocking chair stood beside the front entrance, like something out of a history documentary.
Neatly trimmed shrubs of purple lilac and pink hydrangeas ringed the home in summer blossoms while garden beds filled with creeping thyme and Russian sage perennials flowered like sprays of violet and rouge against the verdant green of the manicured lawn.
“I’ve got you, Liam. Lean on me.” The buxom blonde slung his scrawny arm over her shoulder and guided them forward. “We’ll get you patched up in no time. Right as rain, I promise.”
A screen door creaked open, and the click of heels on wood rang sharply in his ears.
“Gabriella, what is the meaning of this?” An authoritative female voice inquired. “You were sent to collect fresh feed for the chattel. Who is that stranger?”
“This is Liam; a lost traveler waylaid by misfortune, Miss Lily. He was in a car accident and needs medical attention, ma’am.”
Liam gawped at the mature, statuesque vision standing atop the stoop.
Miss Lily was a fair-skinned, caramel-haired lady in her middle years. Her face could have graced billboards, and her trim, robust figure could rival those of much younger women.
She held herself with regal refinement, frowning down her nose at Gabriella, attired in close-fitting blue jeans that hugged her flaring hips and a deep v-necked matching denim vest without a blouse to better enhance her magnificent chest.
It also appeared that cowboy boots and hats came with the wheat fields.
Stern gray eyes snapped to Liam, giving him a critical once-over before the imperious mask cracked and a beatific smile bloomed like the arrival of dawn.
“Gracious, an accident? You poor dear!” Suddenly, she was the picture of motherly compassion, gliding forward with arms spread wide, ready for an embrace. “My, that’s quite the egg on your forehead. Let’s get you inside, out of the heat, and I’ll check you over.”
Her delicate fingers feathered over his various bumps and scratches before taking his arm and sending Gabriella running to fetch a cold compress. Liam watched her skip away with a nervous expression.
Something about being alone with the imposing Miss Lily unsettled him.
“Honestly, I don’t want to be a bother. If you could just lend me a phone—”
“A bother? Not at all, dear. Not one bit.” The matronly beauty hugged his unimpressive bicep against her bosom. It vanished entirely into pale softness. “What sort of woman would I be, turning away someone in need? It wouldn’t be neighborly. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you, knowing I could have helped.”
Liam reeled under the barrage of kind words. Then there were stairs under his feet, and a door opened to admit him into blessed coolness.
The interior of the farmhouse was equally as grand and historically preserved as the exterior.
High ceilings with rustic timber beams and hanging light fixtures loomed above the spacious entry foyer. Twin stairways curved up to the second story on either side of the room. Framed portraits and oil paintings decorated the wood panel walls. A large handwoven rug covering the mosaic tile floor muffled their footsteps.
“Really, I’m fine.” He tried again. “I just need to call—”
“I won’t hear of it. Not another word out of you, dear. Not a peep.” Miss Lily steered them down a side hallway leading to the east wing of the house. The place was huge. “Not until you have had a thorough examination and something to eat. You’re injured, dear. Now, stop being such a bullheaded male, and let me tend to you. I swear, you men would sooner let a limb fall off than admit you need help.”
Her admonishments were lighthearted and laced with amusement, so Liam allowed her to ferry him into a white, well-lit room that looked like an infirmary from the seventies, complete with a nurse’s desk, medicine cabinets, and adjustable examination bed with privacy curtains.
“Here we are. Please disrobe and take a seat,” she ordered, moving to a small brass basin to wash her hands. “Don’t be shy, dear. I have four daughters; you won’t have anything I haven’t already handled.”
Liam wanted to protest. Inform her that it was only his skull that hurt and the rest of him was in relatively normal condition. He could probably get by with a few aspirin and a nap, but the sheer force of personality Miss Lilly exuded had him stripping down to his underwear and feeling a tad exposed.
Especially when he noticed the drying cum-stains on his jocks.
“There you go, good boy.” She beamed, scanning his skinny frame and completely failing to mention the crusty splotches. “Let’s get you comfortable.”
She pushed him onto the examination bed and reached over to prop a pillow behind his head. Her tremendous tits almost fell out of her denim vest as the caramel-haired MILF took her time getting him settled, waving them in his reddening face until she was finally done.
“So… uh, is Gabriella one of your daughters?” Liam asked, desperate for a distraction.
Her proximity and ministrations were triggering an embarrassing physiological response.
“You noticed?” She bent at the waist to search through the desk drawer. Her delicious rump swayed side to side. “What gave it away?”
“I-I… ahem,” He had to clear his throat and look away. “I noticed a distinct family resemblance.”
“Everybody says she has my smile.” Miss Lily glanced back at him with a cheeky grin. “Gabriella is my youngest and has much of her father in her. Lucky girl. My late husband was a selfless, giving soul—a doting parent taken from us too soon.”
Liam wasn’t about to broach a subject as crass as hereditary bustlines simply to correct the nice lady.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” He mumbled awkwardly instead.
She didn’t seem too choked up about it, donning latex gloves with a wink and screwing the cap off a large tub of antiseptic ointment.
“Thank you, dear. That’s all in the distant past, and I’ve learned to soldier on the best I can in his absence. The dead are at peace; the rest of us have crops and families to raise. Let’s begin by cleaning those cuts and scratches.”
What followed was an exhaustive inspection of Liam’s naked flesh. Miss Lily’s touch was cool but soothing as she rubbed acrid-smelling cream into every nick and scrape she could find. Her gloved hands massaged his tired back and neck muscles, easing a tension he hadn’t realized was there.
Throughout it all, she kept brushing against him.
A coil of her silky hair would skim across his prickling skin, or her questing fingers would stray dangerously close to somewhere intimate. Liam felt her hot breath wash over him on multiple occasions, and she kept making quiet, appreciative sounds which could be construed as… excitement.
“You can stop now. I think that’s all of them.” He groaned, crossing his legs to conceal a stiffening bulge. “My head is still quite sore, though.”
“Of course, dear. We have something for that.” Miss Lily cooed, removing her gloves with a rubbery snap and sashaying to a medicine cabinet. “An anti-inflammatory should ease the pain. We don’t have the usual brands, but these should do the job.”
She tossed him an unlabelled pill bottle and filled a glass with water from the basin faucet. The bottle was purple and had a pink childproof lid.
“Take two of those with water whenever you feel the beginnings of a headache. Any cerebral pressure is a bad sign, so err on the side of caution.” Her hungry gaze flickered to his engorged groin for a millisecond before snatching up his discarded shirt and jeans. “I’ll have Gabriella find some proper clothes for you to wear while these are patched and laundered. In the meantime…”
She stepped outside for a brief moment, returning with an ancient rear projection television and attached VCR on a rattling steel trolly.
“...you can watch this; a short history of our farm. Consider it an abridged account of who we are and where we came from. Dreadfully boring stuff, dear, but it passes the time.” Miss Lily tittered, pressing the power button with a dainty, lacquered digit. “Dinner is at six. Don’t be tardy. Toodeloo!”
She swept from the room like a denim-clad empress, her lengthy, caramel-colored hair streaming in her wake.
Liam wanted to say more, but before he could, the screen came to life with a jaunty country ditty. Banjos and guitars dueled as the words “Cottonwood Stud Ranch” scrolled over an aerial shot of the farm in blocky yellow text. The recording was old, as evidenced by occasional sound distortion and lines of static.
When the title sequence ended, the video cut to an attractive older woman with feathered blonde hair wearing a lab coat over a knee-length boatneck dress in a floral pattern. Her elegant facial features and prodigious bust instantly identified her as a blood relative of Gabriella and Miss Lily.
She stood in a broad field of grass with the farmhouse and several horned heads of cattle in the background, smiling winsomely into the camera, hands clasped beneath her mighty bosom.
“Hello. My name is Doctor Abigail Miller, and I’m happy to welcome you to Cottonwood Stud Ranch; home to the latest developments in modern crossbreeding and genetic selection of Bos Taurus, more commonly known as the simple bovine.
“Here, we are trialing several groundbreaking scientific methods for maximizing each unit’s growth and yield through modified feed supplements and specialized conditioning….”
Liam distractedly shook two pills out of the bottle and swallowed them with water from the glass. The throbbing in his skull slowly eased as Doctor Abigail rambled on about the advantages of artificial insemination, desirable gene markers in stud bulls, and the gestational periods of cows.
Much of the content went over his head—the different chemical interactions of certain formulas especially—but the camera was gradually zooming on her enchanting face as she spoke.
Her very, very pretty face, with full cherry lips and intelligent gray eyes, stared directly at him, twinkling with a hint of wicked promise that was wholly unprofessional.
“Our prize studs produce the finest and most virile semen on the market in quantities that surpass all previous records.” The Doctor’s accented voice became a husky purr, causing Liam’s stiffness to pulse. Something in her gentle cadence held him enthralled as his hand shifted southward, sliding beneath his soiled underwear. “Their stamina and fertility rates are well above industry standards, capable of impregnating entire herds of happy heifers.”
Without really thinking about it, Liam’s fist closed around his cock. Absently pumping, his gaze glued to the mesmerizing blonde cougar on the screen. She ran a sensual tongue over her teeth and fluttered her long eyelashes at him.
“We raise the biggest and strongest male stock here at Cottonwood Stud Ranch. Constantly striving to breed a better, more superior line of bulls to ensure future calving seasons are filled to the brim with healthy offspring.”
“Oh… oh, fuck!” He grunted, cumming quickly and violently into his palm.
The climax was as unexpected as it was explosive but also felt somewhat cathartic. As though all the stresses and pressures built up across the day were exorcized in an ebullient gush of sticky seed.
“Thank you very much.” Doctor Abigail crooned from the television. Her satisfied grin reflected a Cheshire cat’s mischievousness. “I hope you enjoyed this presentation and please consider the Cottonwood Stud Ranch as a potential investment opportunity. As we are fond of saying; our best qualities can be found in our DNA.”
Liam sat there shaking his head like a dog after a swim. What was he thinking doing… that in a stranger’s home, and when had he become a one-pump chump?
Quickly washing up in the basin and tucking himself away, he turned to find Gabriella standing in the doorway with a saucy smirk and an armload of clean clothing.
“Whatcha doing, Daddy?” She sang in a little girl tone. “Miss Lily wanted me to bring you fresh duds and an ice pack for your bruised noggin.”
Gabriella helped him dress in a beige linen work shirt, age-worn jeans, and a belt with an ornate steel buckle, which she took her time fastening, stealing the chance for a frisky fondle before rising on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his chin.
“There, now you’re the spitting image of a genuine country gentleman, Daddy. We only need to get you boots and a hat.”
“You needn’t go to the trouble,” Liam mumbled, rubbing his neck. “Please don’t think me ungrateful, but I’m not staying long. There’s my new job in Detroit and—”
“Of course, Daddy. Let’s just enjoy our time together while it lasts.” The young blonde nodded, taking his hand and leading them into the hallway. “C’mon, I promised you some grub, and Miss Lily can’t abide lollygaggers.”
“You should probably stop calling me that too. What if someone overhears us?”
“Whatever you say, Daddy.”
It wasn’t until they were winding through the labyrinthine corridors and adjoining spaces of the enormous farmhouse that Liam realized his headache was completely gone.
“Hmm, it’s nearly six o’clock.” Miss Lilly sighed, checking the grandfather clock ticking solemnly in a corner. “Those girls are cutting it close… as usual.”
The dining room was a grand affair, with wood-trimmed everything and a stone fireplace crackling merrily at one end. Liam was seated in the place of honor at the end of an antique walnut table large enough to seat a party of twelve, and the heat from the nearby fire baked his back.
Fine china and silverware were set out before him in ranks on a frilly tablecloth, arranged in a puzzle he couldn’t decipher. Was the tiny two-pronged fork for salad or for fish? It seemed important. Obscure remembrances about proper manners and etiquette flitted through his racing mind.
Gabriella had claimed the chair kitty-corner from his left side, scooting it closer enough to slip a soft hand over his thigh. This left several empty seats between them and her mother at the head of the table. Tureens of steaming soup, baskets of oven-fresh bread, platters of flame-grilled red meat, and roasted vegetables filled the room with gut-rumbling aromas.
Liam nearly drooled at the sight of a nearby gravy boat filled with rich brown goodness.
“Please excuse the humble fare.” Miss Lily waved dismissively at the mouth-watering spread. “My predecessors swore by home cooking and we try to be self-sufficient out here, far from modern conveniences.”
“It all smells amazing.” He wanted to inhale the feast. Hunger clawed at his belly. “I’m truly thankful for everything you’ve done for me today. I won’t soon forget your hospitality.”
“Oh, you are too kind,” The matronly belle tittered, toying with a lock of her glossy caramel hair. “I’m just an old widow doing the best I can to raise my family and keep this farm afloat. Times are tough, but we get by.”
“About that.” Liam covertly batted Gabriella’s groping fingers away from his crotch. “The sign over the gate and the video you showed me called this place a ranch? Do you keep livestock? I only saw wheat fields on the journey here.”
“It was originally a ranch,“ Miss Lily conceded, pursing her plump lips in thought. “And we keep some legacy breeds in distant pastures, but wheat is the lifeblood of this region. The government subsidizes our crops, offering payouts for bumper yields. Much of the beef production has migrated to neighboring states like Oklahoma, Missouri, and Texas. When the market changes, so must we.”
“That is very admirable…”
“We’re here! Right on time, ma’am!” A duet of high-pitched calls preceded two of the most outrageously proportioned girls Liam had ever seen bustling energetically into the room.
Pretty heart-shaped faces framed by flowing curtains of dark chocolate hair capped their extravagantly curvaceous young figures. Lush hips and astoundingly bountiful bosoms, that would have made a Kardashian blush, bounced hypnotically within clingy jeggings and straining red bikini tops. The rest of their bodies were toned and lean like swimsuit models with bone-deep tans bronzing all that exposed flesh.
Lima had only ever seen their like on the boardwalks of Venice Beach; silicone-stuffed caricatures of extreme womanhood in designer swimwear and sunglasses, flashing chemically brightened smiles and hair while teetering by in ungainly stripper heels.
These girls were somehow the homegrown, organic ideal those surgically enhanced bimbos aspired to be. Natural and glorious in their femininity.
“With two minutes to spare.” Miss Lily noted with maternal affection, not at all put out by their scanty attire. “Where’s your old sister? It’s not like her to be late for mealtimes.”
“I’m here. Just finished feeding the bulls.” A raven-haired stunner strutted in like a supermodel behind them—an achingly thin beauty with a fair complexion wearing skin-tight hipster jeans and a fashionable black halter top stretched taut across her jaw-dropping chest. “The meatheads were restless tonight, and it took a while to get them settled.”
“Mind that loose tongue, girl!” Miss Lilly snapped, and Liam would have sworn the temperature dropped ten degrees from the icy steel in her voice. The motherly kindness vanished from her expression. “We have company.”
Everyone froze for an instant before three curious pairs of eyes found him sitting beside Gabriella. The heat from the fire returned under all the ass-clenching attention.
“Please pardon my unruly children and my rude outburst.” The mature beauty asked sweetly, the country charm returning. “I simply meant that we don’t often entertain polite company, and they forget their manners.
As if a spell had been broken, the tension in the air dissipated, and the three sisters relaxed. The identically breasty brunettes hurriedly stole seats closest to Liam, opposite Gabriella, who pouted cutely in irritation.
“Hey there, mister. I’m Trixie, and this is Dixie.” Trixie said, practically vibrating with excitement. “We’re twins, in case you couldn’t tell. It’s a pleasure to meet ya!”
“Little Miss Perfect sitting up there with Ma is called Ruby,” Dixie whispered conspiratorially, loud enough for the whole room to hear. “She acts like she runs the place already, but don’t pay her any mind. What’s your name, good-looking?”
She batted thick lashes at him, angling forward to rest her elbows on the table and couching her massive melons between them. She nearly knocked the carefully arranged china and cutlery askew.
“I’m… I’m Liam. Pleased to meet both of you.”
Gabriella’s grip on Liam’s leg grew almost painful as the twins bombarded him with questions. It remained there until Miss Lily called for silence and said grace, thanking the almighty for the meal and, strangely, for Liam’s presence.
Then, dishes were passed around, and heaping helpings of food were piled upon his plate at the various girls’ insistence. Friendly conversation resumed between appetizing mouthfuls, several of which Gabriella tried to feed him by hand.
Liam dodged her dogged attempts while questioning Miss Lily about getting a message to Detroit.
“I’m terribly sorry, dear, but we don’t own a phone. The county never laid a line this far out from any population center, and no telecom company could ever justify the expense. There’s not even cell coverage. It’s dreadfully inconvenient. ” She shook her head sadly, then tapped her chin in thought. “We can probably do something about your car, though.
“Cousin June maintains our trucks and heavy equipment; she’s a bonafide grease monkey who works miracles when it comes to repairing engines. I’ll dispatch her in the morning with a farmhand to retrieve it, and she’ll have you on the road again in no time. A few days at most.”
Liam wasn’t sure about that—he’d basically wrapped his second-hand Prius around the damn tree—and said as much.
“Everything will be fine, dear. You’ll see.” She waved away the objection airily. “In the meantime, you can relax and enjoy all the simple pleasures farm living has to offer. We don’t often host such well-educated and courteous guests.”
“You can stay with me in my room!” Gabriella blurted, clapping excitedly and causing Liam to choke on a bite of steak. “I’ll show you around in the morning.”
“Absolutely not,” Ruby stated emphatically. Those were the first words she had spoken throughout dinner. “No men in the big house. You know the rules.”
The two sisters shared angry looks while Trixie thumped him on the back. Oxygen returned after a short coughing fit, and Miss Lily grinned with coquettish amusement.
“Goodness, my youngest seems quite smitten with you, Liam,” she said, eyeing him smokily over the rim of a teacup. “We country ladies do lack for genteel, civilized bachelors way out here. The farmhands are all so brash and uncouth. Even I find myself desirous of a cultured, refined man to… converse with on occasion.”
“Us too!” Dixie wrapped Trixie in a hug and pushed her twin towards Liam. Their gratuitous curves jiggled enticingly. Gabriella’s deathray glare recentered on them. “We share a bed, but there’s room for—”
“No men in the house!” Ruby was on her feet, fists planted on the table, spitting through gritted teeth. “Those are the rules.”
“He’s suffered a head injury.” Gabriella hissed back. Her fingernails burrowed into his thigh possessively. “Someone needs to watch over him until morning.”
Liam didn’t know what to do and felt trapped in an untenable situation he was ill-equipped to handle.
Not once in his insignificant life had he been the subject of contention for gorgeous women like these. Back in Los Angeles—a Mecca for aspiring starlets and would-be models—he was background noise at best, a social footnote to be ignored by his betters.
Fortunately, heavy footsteps in the hallway, followed by a large, shaggy head peeking around the door, abruptly ended the squabble.
“Umm... Miss Lily? Sorry to disturb you during mealtime, ma’am,” A gigantic man built like a cliffside stuffed into dirty bib overalls shuffled nervously in place, wringing a trucker’s cap between ham-sized mitts. “I just… there’s something I need your help with.”
He had to be pushing seven feet tall and almost as broad across the shoulders—hewn from hardwood with no shirt to cover his slab-like pecs or tree-trunk arms. Heavily tanned from working outdoors, his sun-bleached hair was short and uncombed, sticking out everywhere like a bog brush.
He was a literal brute, completely out of place amid the fine trappings of the home, hunching in on himself as though he knew that fact well.
“Thaddius, what are you doing here?” Miss Lily asked cooly, arching an eyebrow at her eldest daughter. “I was informed that you were… retiring for the night. You should be in bed sleeping. We’ve got another busy day tomorrow.”
Ruby looked mortified like her pet poodle had taken a crap on the carpet. The twins snickered quietly and even Gabriella appeared smug for some reason.
“I know, ma’am, I really do, but Randorph pulled alpha and took April for his—”
“Enough! You are intruding on a family dinner.” Miss Lilly barked in a commanding tone. Thaddius flinched as she rose from the table and clicked her fingers at him. “Follow me; we will resolve this matter in private.”
She strode out of the room without giving the skittish giant a second glance, and he trailed meekly in her wake. It wasn’t until he turned to do so that Liam noticed the tremendous bulge in the crotch of his overalls hidden behind the corkscrewed cap.
“Oooh, did our perfect older sister have a whoopsie?” Dixie tittered, smothering her mirth behind a linen napkin. “Don’t worry. Ma will take care of it for you.”
“Won’t do her any favors in the rankings, though.” Trixie agreed with a shit-eating grin. “Maybe we can take some of that heavy load she bears. Share the burden like good siblings should.”
“Shut your pie holes, sluts.” Ruby growled, plonking down into her chair. “I can handle my business. You should mind your own.”
The twins laughed uproariously, hanging off each other in a fit of giggles that squashed their stupendous, bikini-clad breasts together. In all the hubbub and snark, Liam could feel his migraine returning.
“What… what’s going on?” He clutched his aching skull in both hands. “Who was that man? Where did she take him?”
“He’s nobody, Daddy.” Gabriella crooned into his ear. Her small hand slid over his groin, latching on like a leech. “Don’t worry about him. He’s not important; you are. You’re the most important man in the world to me. Is your head hurting again? Here, take some more medicine.”
Dainty fingers pushed a pill between his lips, followed by a glass of water. Liam gulped them down, eager for relief. The heat from the fireplace was suddenly sweltering, and the room began to spin. The sounds of the girls bickering echoed as though in a cave or tunnel.
“That’s the man you’re pinning your hopes on, Gabby?” Ruby’s voice was distant and fading. “You may as well give up now. A shrimp like him won’t last a week in the stables, and that’s only if I don’t steal him from you. It wouldn’t be much of a challenge.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
Those were the last words Liam heard before the world slipped away.
“Daddy, wake up. Please wake up…”
Liam didn’t want to wake. He was somewhere warm and dark. Swaddled in softness and imminently comfortable. Small hands on his shoulders shook him insistently, so he stirred with a groan.
“What happened… where am I?”
“Shhh, you collapsed during dinner. We had you carried to a guest bed.” Gabriella whispered from beside him. The room was pitch black, leaving the faintest outline of her ripe figure. “Ruby didn’t like it, but she couldn’t argue after you passed out. How do you feel?”
After taking a short inventory of his bruises and injuries, Liam was startled to discover he was feeling decidedly better. Whether from the meal, rest, those little pills, or a combination of all three, he was recovering remarkably quickly.
… and stripped naked except for a pair of cotton boxer shorts.
“Best I’ve been all day. What time is it?”
“Late. Everyone’s bunked down for the night, fast asleep. Come with me. I have something I want to show you, but stay quiet, ’kay?”
The darkness was oppressive, all-encompassing, but she led him like a blind man out into the winding corridors. Flitting like silent shadows up the stairs until they entered a room on the second floor, and Gabriella closed the door behind them.
“Shut those peepers, Daddy. I have a surprise for you. No peeking.”
The impish note in the devious blonde’s command sent a quiver of anticipation through Liam, but he obliged. There was a click, and the glare of bright light was apparent through his eyelids. He sensed her gliding away and heard the rustling of fabric before she spoke again with a giggle.
“You can look now.”
A fluffy wonderland cast in hues of strawberry bubblegum assaulted his retinas.
Liam squinted around to see the pink curtains, bedsheets, dresser, teddy bear, and a pattern of peony roses climbing the printed wallpaper.
He drank it all in a daze, eyes half-lidded. Even more pervasive than the cherry blossom decor was the scent—the sweet aroma of perfumes, the fresh scent of wildflowers, and, more than anything, the fragrance of a vibrant young woman.
It all mixed together into a potent feminine fog that Liam breathed with every breath, broadcasting sinful signals to his stiffening loins.
Gabriella was posed like an erotic dream before the foot of a four-post bed hung with diaphanous pink drapes. A sheer magenta babydoll cupped her immense breasts, and the gauzy garment barely hung to her lush hips where a teensy string thong bit into the smooth, rounded flesh.
Honey-gold hair tumbled loose over slim shoulders, surrounding her captivating face with those glimmering sky-blue eyes that contained nothing but purest adoration. She pulled on white satin opera gloves, then smiled and performed a joyful pirouette.
“What do you think?”
Liam’s manhood was more than impressed, rising for a standing ovation as he stared in slack-jawed stupefaction. The spin had wafted the insubstantial hem above her juicy bubble butt before she completed the turn.
“You look incredible, Gabby.” He murmured. “Stunning. You have to know that.”
Beaming like a kid on Christmas, she skipped to him and slid her hands behind his neck. The press of her soft young body, separated by a few scraps of lace, was like a drug. Liam’s arms wrapped around the irresistible angel, and the smell of wildflowers flooded his olfactory.
It was so different to her earlier scent of clean sweat and fresh laundry. Had she applied perfume?
“I love it when you hold me, Daddy. It makes me feel safe and protected.” Gabriella cooed, squirming against the hardness prodding her flat tummy. “I’m your baby girl, right? You won’t let anything hurt me.”
The overwhelming scent and utter pinkness of the bedroom were pervasive, jumbling Liam’s thoughts as he clasped for any reason to deny the treasure in his embrace. Detroit may have been on Pluto for how distant it seemed at that moment.
“Never.” He croaked, mouth drier than the Sahara. “I’d never let anything harm you, baby girl. Why would you ask me that?”
She purred in satisfaction, sliding a hand between them to strip away his boxers. Gentle fingers encircled the exposed stiffness and rubbed his tip against the gossamer fabric of her lingerie.
It left a glistening trail, lurching in her delicate grasp.
“I’ve yearned to hear a man say those words to me all my life.” Gabriella moaned, hooking a small foot behind Liam’s calf and straddling his skinny leg. She mounted his thigh like a beanpole and started to grind. “Ah! I prayed every day for god to send me a kind, caring man who would guard my heart and instruct me in the ways a woman serves her man. You’ll do that for me, won’t you, Daddy? Teach me to be your good, obedient girl. Please, I need it so badly.”
Her wetness soaked through the tiny thong and smeared against Liam’s feverish skin. The heat of her barely-legal snatch stirred his balls, and her rubbery nipples grazed his chest, poking through the provocative pink sleepwear.
It was difficult to think, a struggle to breathe with Gabriella so near. Offering herself freely, begging for his acceptance. She was temptation itself. Youthful and innocent but pleading to be tarnished by his manly dick.
To be despoiled, ravished, then claimed forever.
A primal instinct surged in Liam’s chest—alien him but not unwelcome. The imperative to own this vulnerable flower and shelter her from all the cruelty of the world raged in his soul.
“You’re mine tonight, baby girl.” He growled, lowering his hungry lips to seize hers in a passionate, tongue-fueled kiss. “Now get on goddamn the bed.”
“Yes, Daddy!” She trilled excitedly, nearly tripping in her haste to crawl onto the hand-stitched magenta quilt. Her plump tooshie waggled enticingly at him. “I found something special for my first time. May I show you, sir?”
First time. That revelation slowed Liam’s stalking approach. A spike of uncertainty knifed his hammering heart. Gabriella turned from the nightstand with a small glass vial and discerned the hesitance immediately.
She relined luxuriously into the tasseled pillows and averted her gaze demurely, shyly fiddling with a strand of golden hair.
“It’s alright, isn’t it, Daddy? That I’ve been saving myself for you?” She asked in a sultry whisper. “Preserving my virginity for a mature, worldly man who will treat me gently and guide me into womanhood? It has to be you, Daddy, taking my maidenhead like in a romance novel. The handsome prince who will sweep me off my feet and tutor me in the ways of sensual pleasure.”
Gabriella’s tone was pure sex, dripping like the richest molasses into his ear. Her thick, silky thighs slowly spread like a butterfly’s wings revealing the minuscule triangle of pink lace, drenched with her juices, concealing her pristine, hairless camel toe.
“A condom… should use protection.” Liam mumbled, dragged forward by his rampant erection like an animal on a leash.
“You’re all the protection I need, Daddy.” She chimed, unstoppering the vial and pouring a measure into her gloved palm. “It’s a safe day, and I need to feel you raw inside me. Here, let me worship that fat Daddy meat before you claim my purity and mold my untouched pussy into your personal plaything.”
Mind fogged by desire and feet out of his control, Liam was there before he realized it. Gabriella climbed to her knees, licked her succulent lips, and reverently clasped his thrumming shaft with slippery satin fingers.
She stroked it smoothly and lovingly, letting out cute little squeaks and chirps at every errant twitch—coating him in an oily liquid that warmed like melting butter with every languid caress. Heat saturated his pulsating prong like a hot bath.
“What… what is that?” He gasped as she bowed to lick his engorged tip, swiping up a pearl of precum with her moist tongue.
“Just a little lotion to lubricate our joining, sir.” The blonde bombshell purred. Her sparkling eyes were sapphire pools of lust. “I can’t resist any longer. Please make me yours, Daddy. I crave this delicious cock so badly. Take me as your princess and ruin me for any man but you!”
Liam was the most aroused he had ever been in his mundane existence. His cock somehow seemed larger, girthier, harder than a granite pillar, and unbending as a titanium rod. He sputtered and spurted an unreal quantity of gooey white as she jacked him tirelessly onto her ecstatic face, mountainous cleavage, trim tummy, and fleshy thighs.
Gabriella reveled in it like a holy maiden receiving a blessing, the frilly pink babydoll clinging to her supple curves like wet tissue paper. Tapers of sticky spunk drooled from her plush lips and chin, dangling in lines from her stiff nipples before drooping onto the rose-tinted bedding.
“Oh, Jesus. Oh, shit! I want you, baby girl.” He panted, lost to everything but the all-consuming inferno of hedonistic desire. “Gotta make you mine!”
“Yes, Daddy, yes!”
He shoved Gabriella onto her back and tore the sodden lingerie off her pliable young body. Her glorious tits wobbled like two creamy cherry-topped puddings atop her thin torso, and she pressed them together, presenting herself to Liam as he prepared to mount her.
The shoestring thong went next, the thin band of elastic snapping under his rough handling, making her giggle. Suddenly she was bared entirely to him, pretty pink lips dewy with arousal and ankles rising to spread in midair, granting him total access.
With the unerring aim of a more seasoned cocksman, Liam sank himself into the beguiling blonde’s slick wetness. She was unbelievably hot and tight, fitting him perfectly like a snug sleeve of softest velvet. There was an instant of resistance, eliciting a shuddering gasp from Gabriella when it parted to welcome him inside completely.
“There, you’ve done it, Daddy.” She whispered, wrapping her long legs over his hips. “Thank you for making me a woman… your woman.”
Delicate hands cupped his stubbly cheeks, and she smiled radiantly, those sky-blue eyes entrancing Liam. They held each other there, floating in a shared nirvana until Gabriella dug her heels into the small of his back and spurred him to action.
“Christ, baby girl, you feel fantastic!” He grunted after a few experimental thrusts.
“It’s all for you, Daddy.” She purred huskily, using the leglock around his skinny waist to draw him in deeper. “Every inch of me is yours now. My mouth… aaah! My breasts, my cunt, even my butt—all yours, Daddy. Use me however and whenever you like.”
Her lurid promises and euphoric moans—along with her floral aroma and the maddening pinkness surrounding Liam—propelled him into a frenzy. Perspiration prickled his brow, pelvises smashed and collided with concussive force as they rutted in a wallow of desperate desire.
Her sublime tits circled and clapped beneath him with every driving penetration, diamond-stiff nipples raking his feverish skin. Balls—liberally doused in her juices—slapped taut, bubbly ass cheeks in a sloppy staccato, and throughout it all, she kept urging him onward with jubilant cries.
“Oh my god! You’re so big, Daddy… Mmmnph! So strong and powerful. My poor little kitty has never felt so full! Oh fuck, keep pounding me with that hard Daddy dick… haaah~!”
Liam’s hands punched into the mattress on either side of her flailed head. Golden hair tangled around his wrists like bonds of spun silk, symbolically trapping him as she writhed upon his pussy-plundering shaft.
He saw the first climax rack her flawless farm girl figure before he felt Gabriella convulse around his buried length. She arched up into him, looping slender arms around his neck in a crushing embrace, clinging tight as she surfed the waves of carnal bliss.
“Oh go-go-god, DAAADDYYYY!!”
Her orgasmic howl split the air, surely echoing through the sleeping house. Liam didn’t give two shits about the noise. For the first time ever, he was a fucking machine. Pneumatically pistoning into the most perfect snatch he could imagine, like a speeding steam locomotive with the brakes cut.
Gabriella’s squirting fluids splattered the bedsheets, and he kept on pumping. The sensation of her breath-taking body under and around him was all that mattered. She whimpered and thrashed, dragging his face down beside hers so she could bathe it in fluttery kisses.
“Keep going, Daddy, never stop… Hnnnr~… You fuck me so good. You’re going to make me cum again!”
Her fingers were in his hair, sharp nails scouring his scalp in lines of fire. Liam snarled and punished her with a few brutal jabs to her g-spot that made her shriek with untethered glee.
His angel was a demon in the sack, and he was going to fucking tame her.
“You’re mine, baby girl.” He growled, biting at her vulnerable neck and shoulders. “Tonight and forever, no matter what comes next, I’m marking you as my woman.”
“Please, Daddy… gaaah! Please, own my young body… make me yours!”
This time, he sensed her climax approaching like the first tremors of an earthquake.
Gabriella’s whole body tensed as though bracing for impact, internal muscles flexing around his pummeling manmeat and limbs going rigid with vise-like strength.
Liam wasn’t far behind. His grumbling balls waited in the wings for the final curtain call.
“Holy shit, I’m about to cum, baby girl.” He warned with a grunt. “Tell me where you want it.”
“Inside me, Daddy! I want to feel you explode deep inside my virgin womb!”
Mind spinning and cock throbbing fit to rupture, he plowed Gabriella into the bed. Her skintight cunt squeezed and clenched at his spearing length until the dam burst in a dizzying release.
Years of repressed concupiscence flooded from Liam, jet after jet of sticky seed, more than he’d ever cum before, blasted into the ecstatically howling blonde’s hungry honeypot. Trembling, knee-shaking seconds ticked by, locked together in coital paroxysms until he was thoroughly drained.
“That was incredible. I didn’t know it could feel that good. Thank you, Daddy.” Gabriella crooned, rolling her shapely hips in tiny gyrations. “You’re still so big and hard inside me. Want to see how many times we can go before you fuck me unconscious?”
The depraved request belied her hopeful, innocent expression. She was grinning, those sapphire eyes twinkling at Liam as she snuggled against his chest. Soft yet firm, she was absolutely adorable in his arms. An unleashed sex kitten oozing sex appeal and absorbing affection like a starved pet.
Well, Liam was still erect, and her micro-twerks weren’t cooling his rediscovered sexual appetite.
Jesus, how much had he just ejaculated?
There were a plethora of reasons why this was a terrible idea. Sensible, sober grounds for him to politely excuse himself, slide out of Gabriella’s warm embrace and perfect pussy, then return to the guest room before they were inevitably caught in flagrante.
Probably…
But the smell of hot sex mingled with her wildflower perfume, and the intoxicating heat of her curvy young body blew those concerns away like dandelion seeds on a pink-tinged breeze.
“Alright, baby girl, but lower the volume this time. The last thing I want is Miss Lily chasing me out with a shotgun.”
“Mmhmm, don’t worry, Daddy. Nobody will hear us,” Gabriella promised, shoving her succulent melons under his chin. “And if I get too loud, you can just gag me with your fat, yummy dick, ’kay?”
Liam just nodded and sucked on a raspberry nipple. Worries about Detroit, his new job, and wrecked car forgotten as the insatiable farm girl cooed in satisfaction, combing fingers through his hair.
Life was far simpler on a farm, ranch, whatever, and those sounded like Tomorrow-Liam’s problems anyway.