Sharing Catherine

by Matt Coolomon

  SHARING CATHERINE

  SWEET SURRENDER

  BY COOLOMON

  XXX EROTICA

  Copyright © 2012 Matt Coolomon

  This is a work of fiction.

  Any resemblance to any real life person is coincidental.

  This book contains depictions of sexually explicit acts.

  It is intended for adults only.

  All characters portrayed are 18 years or older.

  http://coolomon.blogspot.com.au/ for further reading and author contact

  Acknowledgments

  There have been many contributors to my erotic stories. I would like to acknowledge those who have offered me ideas for storylines and characters, everyone who has chatted with me about erotic stories over the years, and everyone who has read and commented on my work.

  Comments from the on-line erotica readership

  “Like many readers, I'm finding myself drawn to this Catherine. She really is one of the most three-dimensional characters I've ever come across in erotica.”

  “Love how sweet and submissive this Catherine is. The perfect female.”

  “You really ought to patent your Catherine character as I could see her as a new Emmanuel. Certainly as erotic.”

  “Man I love this Catherine chick!”

  Sharing Catherine 1

  Sharing Catherine 2

  Sharing Catherine 3

  Enough!

  SHARING CATHERINE CHAPTER 1

  Uncle Frank was sleeping easily in his old leather recliner on the veranda of his country residence. Uncle's Ken and Arthur were sitting nearby playing cards, and my cousin Dennis was oiling a saddle and sweating in the sun on the far edge of the veranda.

  Frank was fifty-seven. He was the eldest and most successful of the three brothers. He had started in the stables and worked his way up to begin training racehorses by age thirty. Ken was in advertising and Arthur was a school principal. Dennis, Arthur's son, was a stockbroker and I, being the son of the little sister of the family, am a mechanic.

  About three times a year Frank would invite us men to visit with him, away from the aunties, at his horse spelling property some thirty miles from a small fishing town that had lately begun attracting tourists.

  The farm was certainly secluded. The vista from the front veranda rolled away over green hills, which ended at a cliff and the inaccessible ocean. A few horses dotted the hills, grazing lazily. And if you sat there all day you might be lucky enough to see a car skim along the cliff road about a mile away.

  I stood and had a stretch and yawn, then I strolled down the lane to the stables where my favourite old racehorse was also sleeping. Milo had long since retired. He was only an average racer in his day, and at nine years of age he was just a good riding horse. The caretaker, an old guy named Gus, had brought him in for me that morning.

  I saddled Milo, and the first thing was to give him his head for a mile or so. After that little canter he settled to his usual easy walk, and about an hour later we had jumped the fence and were standing on the edge of the cliff.

  We stood looking out over the ocean for a while. I think old Milo kind of liked the view as well, and I wondered if he ever jumped the fence of his own accord. It was that kind of day – so slow one's mind tended to go a bit soft and mushy. After a half hour I asked old Milo if he felt like walking back the short way and I think he nodded.

  The road dipped away from the cliff and into a little grove of trees. We entered that and were happily meandering along when all of a sudden we came across a car parked beside the road with its bonnet up, and inside I found a man and a woman both reclined back in the front seats sound asleep.

  Old Milo had walked right up alongside, and I was leaning down over the saddle looking in the open window. I guess I should have cleared my throat or something but I didn't. I just looked the woman over. She was maybe mid to late twenties with straight, blonde hair falling gently over her shoulder. It was flittering a little on the breeze and the ends were caressing the exposed portion of her breasts. She had on a little white dress with tiny strings over her shoulders, and beneath it her breasts were obviously bare. I watched them rise and fall softly while I strained to make out the texture of her nipples as they pressed against the thin, stretchy fabric.

  "Thank god!" the guy finally exclaimed, and I sat up a bit.

  He was shuffling from his seat. The girl stirred.

  "Morning," I offered, meeting her sleepy smile and nodding to the guy. "Car problems?"

  "Yes and there's no phone service!" the guy grumbled.

  "No, not out here. How long have you been waiting?"

  "Hours!" the girl replied, also emerging from the car, and she accepted old Milo's snout and gave him a pat.

  Fuck she was gorgeous. I couldn't quite decide on her heritage – maybe Scandinavian, but her eyes were hinting of a southern European influence. She was tall and slender with delicate yet feminine hips and her breasts, wobbling a little as old Milo nudged against her, were generous though not oversized. I imagined a C cup, and I leaned over for a better look while she brushed some of Milo's dribble off her thigh.

  The guy was going on about their plight so I thought I'd better go have a look under the bonnet. Milo had already identified a patch of lush green grass beneath a tree, and he didn't need to be tied. I slipped down and let him loose then lined up beside the guy poking at the radiator hoses. One of them was split.

  "There's a spare one of those and a cool drink at my uncle's house," I suggested.

  "Where's that? I don't remember the last house we passed," the guy said, rubbing his brow with his arm and looking anxious.

  "See the driveway just up ahead. It's about a mile back off the road."

  The girl was searching in through the window for something with her little dress stretching nicely up the back of her thighs, and I followed their smooth lines down to her sandals then back up again before she stood and tilted a bottle of water to her lips.

  She knew I was watching her. The guy was still poking at his motor, and she let me look her over. She didn't meet my eyes but she placed her water bottle on the roof of the car and turned toward me to reach up and fix her hair. Her dress lifted with her shoulders and the hem promised to reveal what panties she had on but it didn't quite lift high enough.

  I studied her thighs while she fiddled with her hair. I studied the contour of them – how they curved together but didn't quite meet, and how they parted again before being concealed beneath her hem. Another half inch and I would have had what I wanted but the guy stepped around from the front of the car and she turned away.

  "I'm Matt Coolomon by the way." I offered my hand, and the guy shook it and introduced himself and his wife Catherine. "Shall we go then?" I suggested.

  "I don't know. Are you sure you can fix it?"

  "Yeah, no problem," I grinned, walking over to collect Milo's reins. "You and I can walk and the lady gets to ride."

  "Me! On the horse?" she giggled, blushing a little.

  "Sure! He's a nice old boy. He's gentle and I'll lead him along for you."

  "I don't know if I can, in this." Catherine exclaimed. She was smiling though and she was looking up at the saddle.

  "It's okay," I said, before the husband had a chance to respond. "Just put your foot in my hand and I'll lift you up."

  She stepped into my hand and I lifted as she clung to the saddle and slipped onto it.

  "Oh my god!" she cried, gripping the horn of the saddle while old Milo shifted and settled under her.

  I got what I wanted. Her dress was too straight and it had stretched across her thighs. Her little panties were kind of a soft yellow. I imagined they were thong panties too. There was only a tiny patch of fabric covering her pussy, wh
ich was pressed open against the saddle.

  I could feel the husband watching me fix the stirrups and check her out. I glanced back at him briefly and met his eyes, but he didn't say anything, so I slipped beneath old Milo's neck and went to work on the other stirrup.

  The girl watched me too but her eyes averted when I glanced up. I then tied the reins in a knot and hooked them over the horn with the knot slipping down to rest against her pussy. She didn't try to move it. She just clung to the horn of the saddle and sat there blushing.

  "Are we ready?" I called to the husband. He was locking the car, and he nodded and came over to fall into step on the other side of old Milo.

  "So where are you guys from?" I asked, and we chatted as we walked, exchanging the usual introductory trivia.

  Catherine was chatting happily too, and from time to time I would look back and check on her. She sat easily in the saddle, though she maintained her hold on the horn with one hand, and I noticed she'd removed the knotted reins from her crotch, but she was being rocked back and forth against the ridge of leather between her legs and her dress had hiked up around her hips.

  The thin yellow fabric of her panties looked like it was glued to her pussy, and I could see it was cutting up into her folds. I looked up from it and met her eyes, and she held my gaze that time and I smiled but she only blushed in reply. Then I looked back down at her little panties and watched her being split against the saddle for a while. All was quiet and I noticed she was checking with her husband. He was walking at Milo's other shoulder but he could see what I was doing. I met his eyes for a moment and he glanced back to his wife, so I again turned and had a look at her panty covered slit.

  "Will we be going back to fix our car right away?" he asked me, ending the silence.

  "It'd be better to take a tractor and tow it back to the workshop," I answered, turning back to him again. "I'll ask my cousin Dennis to go back with you as soon as we have a drink."

  "Your cousin?" Catherine questioned. I hadn't mentioned anyone other than Uncle Frank.

  "Yeah. There's actually a little group of us up from the city for the weekend. There's three of my uncles and Dennis. He's about my age."

  "Oh. I hope they won't mind us intruding," Catherine went on a little nervously.

  "It'll be fine. And anyway, I'll have you on your way again in an hour."

  We walked on quietly and soon arrived at the stable. Catherine waited to be helped down and I asked her husband to open the gate while I approached beside her.

  "He's a nice easy ride isn't he?" I smiled up at her, touching her back lightly as she lifted her leg over the saddle.

  Her little dress had remained bunched at her waist and from behind I got a look at her bare ass and the little patch of yellow fabric still glued to her pussy. I placed my other hand upon her hip and guided her down, and she turned and tugged at her hem.

  "How old is he?" she asked, patting Milo’s rump and avoiding eye contact with me.

  "He's nine, but that's pretty old for a horse."

  "And his name's Milo?" she went on, following me into the stable and stopping beside her husband.

  "Used to be Prince Arber when he was racing but it's just plain old Milo now," I answered and I slipped his saddle and gave him a rub down then turned him loose in the stable.

  "Let's go and have a beer."

  ****

  Frank and Dennis were still on the veranda, and I introduced Catherine and her husband and explained their situation, then I went inside to get some beers. I poured Catherine's in a glass and she accepted it gratefully. Her husband was chatting with Frank. He accepted his and drank half of it in one go.

  "So, Dennis, can I borrow your flashy new tractor to tow their car back to the workshop?" I asked politely.

  "You're not driving it!" he answered shortly.

  "Okay. So, will you do it then?"

  "It will have to be right now. I'm going to town soon," he explained.

  Catherine met her husband's glance and nodded that she'd be okay, and he and Dennis left immediately.

  "Where are Ken and Arthur?" I asked Frank, and he motioned to the workshop. They were strolling up the path and soon mounted the steps to meet Catherine's smile.

  "Hello," she said sweetly when I introduced them. She was leaning back against the rail and I stepped over and leaned beside her while my uncles sat facing her. All three were grinning like idiots.

  "Is your beer okay?" I asked. She'd hardly taken a sip.

  "I don't really like beer," she answered shyly.

  "There's some lemonade," Arthur offered, and she nodded.

  "I'll drink that," Ken said and accepted the glass from her.

  Frank was looking her over. Her nipples were firm and in the shade they were visible beneath the light fabric, which hugged her tits and her flat little belly quite nicely. I met Frank's gaze and he winked.

  "You got a little sunburn," I said to Catherine, and I lightly touched the string on her shoulder.

  She glanced up at me and then at Frank and Ken. "It's not too bad," she said, peering down at her chest, which was also slightly reddened.

  Arthur returned with her lemonade and she accepted it and sat down in a chair Ken had pulled over for her. I stood leaning against the rail and watched her tits jiggle as she chatted and laughed with my uncles.

  They were busy chatting her up. Arthur had offered to cook his lasagne and Ken was ready to go to town with Dennis to choose the right wine to go with it. Frank was telling her all about the guest room he had if she and her husband wanted to stay the night. Arthur was currently booked in there but there was no question he'd be happy to vacate.

  She asked for the bathroom and excused herself. The tractor was roaring down the driveway so I went down to the workshop, and Dennis left me there with the husband. It was a simple job to replace the split radiator hose and it took only fifteen minutes to get the car running again.

  "The uncles are trying to talk your wife into staying for dinner and a few drinks," I started casually.

  "And what did she say?"

  "Don't know. I think she was avoiding any commitment until she speaks to you.

  “Hope you do stay though. She's pretty fucking hot…. She’s your wife isn’t she?"

  He took a moment to respond. He placed the last of the tools into the toolbox and closed it. He then looked up at me squarely.

  "Yes, she is my wife. Do you want to try to fuck her?"

  "Yeah, maybe. You didn't seem to mind me looking her over earlier and I was kind of wondering about that."

  "It's something we've talked about," he went on a little thickly. "I don't know if she will go through with it, but we were thinking about trying something on this vacation."

  I was taken aback a little with the guy's openness.

  "Meaning – you do want me to try getting onto her?" I asked. "I mean, your car's right there ready to go if you want, but if you're serious?"

  He took another moment, fiddling with the catch on the toolbox. Finally he spoke. "No – I’d like it if you tried to fuck her. Can I have another beer?"

  ****

  It was mid-afternoon when Dennis and Ken returned from town with supplies. We'd all moved out onto the back deck, which bordered a large saltwater pool with a volleyball net strung across it. Catherine accepted a glass of white wine and settled back in the deckchair she'd claimed. Her husband was on his fourth or fifth beer.

  No one was actually swimming but Frank and I were dangling our feet from the edge of the pool where we had a good view up underneath Catherine's legs. Occasionally she would reach for some more crackers, and when she leaned over like that Arthur would sit forward and have a look too. He was sitting in the deckchair beside her.

  Her husband had brought a bag from their car, and she searched in it for suntan lotion and started rubbing that in. Ken had settled in the deckchair on the other side of her and as usual he was chatting away. Dennis put on some music and when he came out he went straight into the
pool.

  Frank, Arthur and I just sat quietly watching her oily hand smooth over her legs and arms. Her husband then claimed the bottle of lotion and she sat forward while he knelt in behind her. He started with her neck and her head rocked forward. He looked over at us and Frank and I both stood and wandered closer. He then worked lotion into her shoulders and the little strings slipped but her arm closed across her breasts to hold her dress up.

  "Are you guys up for a game of volley ball?" Frank asked, and she peered up at us, blushing.

  "I can't. I didn't bring anything to wear," she said, and she glanced back at her husband.

  "What about those pretty little knickers?" Frank grinned, and she went a deeper shade of red.

  Dennis had swum over to the edge of the pool and Ken was sitting there, suddenly silent. The husband was peering around at us all and absently rubbing lotion into her back.

  "You don't mind if she plays do you, buddy?" Frank asked him.

  He smoothed his hands over her shoulders and leaned in to her ear. "Do you want to?" he asked a little shakily. "There's that tank top in the bag you could wear."

  She took a moment to respond, then she looked up at us again. "I'll need to go and get changed," she said softly.

  Frank's smile broadened and my cock flexed. The ball was already in the pool and I dived in and lined up on the opposite side to Dennis. Catherine disappeared into the house with a little pink top in her hand. Her husband struggled out of his shirt and waded in. Frank tossed his shirt and made that a team of three, and Ken lined up with me. Arthur had never been in the pool as far as I could recall. He did come over a bit closer than usual though. He sat by the net with his feet dangling in the water.

  We tossed the ball around and waited for ten minutes or so until Catherine reappeared in a little top that didn't quite meet with the waistband of her thong panties. She was smiling and blushing, and we were all either whistling or calling something out to her but she was in the water pretty quickly.

  The game kicked off and although it was just a bit of fun it was still competitive. The pool was actually built for the grandkids so it was only waist deep. The two uncles ended up guarding the back of the court while the rest of us worked the net. And although Catherine looked fine in her wet little top and tiny panties, I was more concerned with winning.