by T. S. Hill
“Thanks.”, I replied. “I’ll check it out.” With that, I walked to the right side of the barn, and noted that her whole accent had taken on a country, corn pone, essence. This girl was beautiful, smart, cool under fire, a good shot, a foul, mouthed, bitch, when she wanted to be, and getting to be just plain weird. I still wanted her. I wanted her bad. I couldn’t think of saving my own ass for thinking of her. And, that’s never a good thing!
I returned from the barn feeling better, but not refreshed. Lori was holding up clothes from the basket against herself, and I assumed, trying to imagine how they would look on her. Of course, with those tanned legs and cowboy boots, everything looked sexy against her body. And, her face, was still as angelic under the morning light, as it had been in the setting sun and dim street lights.
“So, what else is in that barn?”, I asked as I approached the car.
“Just an old truck, and I don’t know, a bunch of junk.”, she answered.
“An old truck huh?”
“Yeah,”, she responded, “That and a bunch of other old junk.” This gave me an idea, but I needed some time away from her, so that I could get my mind wrapped around what I needed to do to complete my tasks and clear myself. And, also to figure out exactly where we stood currently, and what we needed to do to get out of this place safely, and quietly.
“Why don’t you go try out that shower you mentioned, and put on some fresh clothes, while I check out the barn and that old truck?”, I suggested.
“Really? We have time for that?”, she asked.
“Sure.”, I replied, “I need to get my head around a plan before we hit the road again. So, yeah. Take your time, but don’t use all the water. I want a shower too, and I’ll have a look at those clothes. I’ve had these on for three days.”
“Eww!” she sounded out, “You wanna go first?”
“Nah,”, I chuckled. “You go ahead.”
“Okay!” she said, once again taking on that country bumpkin accent. “But, no peeking!”
“No peeking! I promise!”, I said as I turned and faced her and raised my right hand as though I were being sworn in at court.
She was looking straight at me, and her eyes got suddenly big. “Okay.” she said, dropping the country accent, and turning toward the old wooden water tank. I hoped that slip up, “under oath”, gesture hadn’t blow my cover, such as it was. She marched off toward the water tower, and I went to the trunk of the Mustang to see what useful items I could find.
Every rental car from Magnum Motors has an emergency road kit in the trunk. That, and the other niceties, are the reasons I always rent cars from them. Okay, the niceties, and the fact, that their local manager is a twenty-eight-year-old, auburn haired, total bomb shell. I swear, I will get into her panties sooner or later. But that’s another story.
Anyway, I went to the car trunk and cracked open the emergency road kit and found what I was looking for, a nice flashlight, with an emergency flasher, and a really bright beam of white light, ideal for seeing what you are doing in an emergency. This would come in handy in that cellar that Lori mentioned. Plus, I wanted to see that old truck that was parked in the dim light of the barn. That old truck and the worn clothes that Lori had found, had given me an idea.
I slipped into the old barn and stood still while my eyes adjusted to the dim light, taking in the scents of animals, hay, leather harnesses, and whatever else was there. Sure enough, just as Lori had said, there in the central main run of the old barn, was a beautiful, old, dark green, Ford truck. This was a classic, and in great shape. I would guess an early 1950’s model. Not just out of curiosity, I opened the driver’s door and looked inside.
Sure enough, the key was in the ignition. I went around to the front of the old truck and fumbled around for the hood latch for a few minutes, then finally realized that there were two spring loaded hooks on either side of the hood to release. Releasing the hooks, I raised the hood, which opened from the side, and had a look. The engine looked pristine, and definitely wasn’t a 1950’s engine.
Someone had spent some money on this old truck, and I thought that it just might be in running condition, and if so, it could be our salvation. I checked the battery and it was there, but covered with corrosion. Everything else looked great. The hoses and belts, and wiring, were all intact and looked to be in great condition.
The tires all looked good, and there was a fully inflated spare, bolted into a recess against the bed, between the passenger door and the rear fender. Just maybe, a battery, and a little fresh gasoline, would get this bad boy running.
I figured that I may as well tackle that project before getting a shower. Besides, if Lori was like most women, she probably wouldn’t be finished in the shower for a while yet anyway. I looked in the bed of the old truck, and what do you know? There was a gas can and a length of hose pipe that I could use for a siphon. Someone had already played the very game that I planned with this truck, and now I was about to play it again.
When I had returned to the truck with the battery, some gasoline from the Mustang, and the pliers from the Mustang’s emergency road kit, it only took a couple of minutes to clean the truck’s battery contacts, and switch it out. In a few minutes more, I had checked the truck’s tank with the length of siphon hose and found it empty. Then using the siphon hose, transferred roughly 5 gallons of gasoline from the Mustang to the truck.
Now all I had to do was give the switch a try. But, I decided to wait. First, I needed to be sure, that no one was around, and secondly, I wanted to bring Lori in, so that she wouldn’t be freaked out by the sound of the truck engine turning, and trying to start. I figured that she should be out of the shower by now, so I headed out toward the elevated wooden water tank out by the windmill.
Just as I turned the corner of the barn, I met Lori coming from the water tank. Her golden blonde hair was wet and hung in ringlets to frame her glowing face. Her hazel eyes sparkled, and her face glowed like the sun. She had put on a white dress, which seemed to be made entirely of crochet, that had a lacy like appearance, with tiny gaps and openings, in the weave pattern of the material.
The dress was cut just above her knees, and she was barefooted. The material had just enough see through factor, to be able to tell that she had nothing on beneath it. Her tanned skin showed through one spot or another, in every area of the dress. Yep. She had an all over tan alright. I noticed that her manicured bare feet were just as tanned as the rest of her body. She was carrying her blouse, panties, shorts, and bra in one hand, and her cowboy boots in the other. She looked like an absolute goddess, glowing in the morning sun.
“Ready for your shower?”, she queried.
“You bet!”, I shot back. I had worked up a bit of a sweat in the heat of the old barn in the morning, October sun. “How’s the water?” I asked.
“Get in before the sun gets any higher.”, she responded, “Its already about as warm as I like it for this time of year.” Her country accent seemed to be gone again, and that faint hint of a Canadian accent was back. Not the French, but the western Canada accent, around the Alberta province. Sooner or later I would get to the bottom of that.
Meanwhile, my shower was waiting, and Lori had moved on toward the car. Having the truck ready to try to start had me fired up. If I could get the truck running, and the old clothes that Lori had spoken about would fit proper, I thought that I could pull off getting us out of here, and back to New Orleans, alive. Hopefully, not just alive, but with a few stops along the way to tidy up a little business, and pick up a few more items of interest, both alive and not arrested. What I planned to deliver to the federal task force would make or break, what would likely be, the USA’s criminal trials of the century.
The shower I had would, under any other circumstances, have been nothing to write home about. Under the current circumstances, and considering how long I had been on the road without one, it was wonderful. Almost as good as sex with a beautiful woman. In fact, I would say that shower was about as good
as bland sex, but not hot sex. And, that’s saying a lot, because the worst sex that I ever had, was damn good sex!
I dried off, as best as I could, with the tiny towel that evidently had been hanging on the rack by the water tank for months. Then wrapping the towel around my hips, I stepped around the partition that separated the shower from the front of the property.
Lori was standing there, barefooted, with manicured toes that matched her fingers, in the white crochet dress with a handful of men’s clothes. The clothes looked like a pair of pants and a shirt, but she looked like an angel. “Feel better?”, she chirped.
“I will when we can get out of here, and safely get something to eat.”, I answered. The entire time though, I was staring at her in that crochet dress. Her champagne hair had dried and fluffed a bit. With her dark tanned skin contrasting against the white, crochet, dress, she still looked like a beautiful goddess. Maybe even more like one now than before. Her breasts filled out the top of the dress as if she were wearing a padded, push up bra, but it was evident that she had absolutely nothing on under that dress.
“I brought you some clothes that I thought might fit.”, she explained.
“Thanks!”, I said, and then realizing that something didn’t seem quite right, looked up at the sky.
“Holy shit! It’s grown dark out here! It looks like we are about to get a helluva storm!”, I said, with a little excitement in my voice. “Let’s get in the barn quick!”, I shouted.
I reached behind the little partition, and grabbing my boots, took off after Lori, as fast as we could run, toward the front of the barn. At that exact second, as they say, the bottom fell out of the sky, and we were all but drowned by the time we made it through the barn door, and slid it shut.
“Holy fucking shit!’, Lori practically screamed once the barn door was closed, “I’m fucking drowned!” She tossed the now soaked man’s shirt and pants to the floor of the barn. I looked at her and sort of chuckled.
“Yeah,”, I said, “I’m feeling kind of like a drowned rat myself.”
“I’m cold.”, she said, “Come on, there’s a hay loft up there with hay.”, and she headed toward a ladder built on the right side of the stalls that lined the main run of the barn.
“What good is that?”, I asked, then wished that I hadn’t.
“We can get dry in the hay, and at least burrow in and get warmed up. “Aren’t you cold?”, she asked.
“I could use some warmth.”, I responded with a little deferral in my voice. The whole idea of climbing into the loft with that luscious goddess, to warm our skin, was warming me already.
The vented, crochet, dress was drenched, and clinging to her shapely tanned body, and the sight of all of her, in her bare feet, was absolutely turning me on. “Scoot on up that ladder.” I coaxed her, hoping she would turn toward the ladder and not notice my rising erection. To my relief, she promptly turned and walked to the ladder, and without hesitation, began climbing it like it was second nature to her.
I quickly moved to the bottom of the ladder and followed her up with my eyes. In the dim light, I couldn’t see up and beneath, the crochet dress, but I could appreciate her figure, form, and especially, her shapely buttocks and legs. Her dainty feet scaled the crude wooden ladder, rung over rung, as though they were on home turf.
Suddenly, she spun around and looked down at me. “Come on up.”, she called out, “there’s plenty of hay up here and we can get dry and snug!” I thought that somehow, she had done this all before, and now I was the rookie.
I started up the vertical ladder toward the loft, one step at a time. Looking up, I saw her head pop over the edge of the loft floor. “Coming?”, she called out in a melodious voice.
“On my way!” I called back to her.
“Don’t dawdle!”, she called out again, in a teasing voice.”
“I don’t intend to!”, I retorted, picking up my pace.
Just as I topped the ladder, I realized that the ladder had actually reached several feet above the loft floor, and that the oblong hay bales were stacked several rows higher. A few bales were missing in the center of the loft, leaving a valley in the stacked hay bales.
I finished climbing onto the bales of hay and stood up erect, my head reaching just beneath the rafters, where I could hear the rain loudly drumming against the barn’s tin roof. As my eyes gradually adjusted to the dim light of the loft area, I became aware of Lori standing just a few feet in front of me, her crochet dress at her feet, her bare tanned ass, back and legs facing me.
My erection jerked against the towel wrapped around me, and the waist tuck, having loosened on my assent of the ladder, gave way. Now there lay nothing between me and that gorgeous beauty before me, but about six feet of hay bales. Since I first met this goddess, I had swallowed all of my lust, all of my manhood, and all of my emotions, for the last sixteen, or whatever hours. And now, I couldn’t hold it anymore.
Outside the rain storm was raging, and the roar it was making against the tin roof sounded off across the loft, as a suspenseful drum roll. I think I cleared that six feet of hay bales with one step, and wrapped my arms around Lori, drawing her into a protective hug. I heard a gasp from her and felt my manhood pressing between her lush buttocks.
“So,”, she said, rather calmly, “it’s come down to this? You’re going to rape me now?” I took a deep breath. God knew that I wanted to make love to her in the worst way, but rape her?
“No!”, I simply said, loosening my arms and hands from their tight grip around her body.
“Fine!”, she blurted in a stern voice, “Then, maybe I’ll rape you!” And with that, I completely missed whatever move she did next, except, that I found myself flying over her head, and then downward into the open pit of hay bales. Thunder crashed over our heads as I landed on my back, nearly knocking the wind out of me. Then hearing a female war cry (if you can only imagine), I saw from over my head, a nude Lori dive into a spread-eagle pose.
And in that moment, time froze, permanently burning her image into my brain. My eyes caught her hair floating, her eyes wide and intense, her beautiful pink lips slightly smiling, her breasts perked fully out, rosy nipples erect and full, her tummy muscles rippling and below them the pouty lips of her cleanly waxed, pussy. Her tawny legs spread with all of their muscles taunt, as her manicured toes pointed back from where she launched. The wholeness of her beauty poured into my mental photograph. Yes, that is one image, that if I live to be a hundred, I will never forget.
Then with one final move, she flipped a half turn and landed on her feet, just between my splayed feet. With one quick hop, she was on her knees, straddling my stomach, her arms reaching to either side of my head. I’m sure my eyes were wide and my facial expression had to be anything but normal.
Slowly, she began lowering her front torso toward me, until the nipples of her breasts were just touching the black hair of my chest. She moved her upper body in a rhythmical, circular way, which drug her pair of taunt, pink, nipples, in circles over my chest, her lower body methodically moving first forward, and then back. Back and forth her hips moved, spreading the wetness from her pussy on my lower abdomen. Her bewitching hazel eyes, stared into mine for what seemed like ages, then suddenly her mouth plunged down on mine, and our tongues met, pressing against each other in their own mad dance of passion.
Wrapping my arms around her upper body just beneath her arms, I could feel my cock grow against, and press between, her hot buttocks, as she slid back against it and then forward again. The skin over my entire body began tingling, and at the same time, I felt chill bumps raise beneath my hands on her back. I had wanted this woman so bad ever since I first laid eyes on her, and now she was practically climbing my body. Our bodies intertwined, with a mutual bliss flowing between us.
I couldn’t hold in my rising passion, and emitted a deep, loud groan, that sounded more like a grizzly bear growl than a groan. The sound I made seemed to spark even more passion in Lori, as she wrapped her arms around my
neck and head, and increased the urgency of her kiss. Her tongue was whip lashing over mine now, as though there were no limits to the depth of passion that it sought.
My hands slid down her back and grasped her firm, tanned, buttocks, like two tight, iron fisted, vices. With nothing but the tight grips of my hands holding on to her smooth tanned ass, I lifted her, and moved her back toward my now jerking and throbbing manhood. I could feel her juices, that had run down her inner thighs, now on my sides, where she straddled me. It was clear that her passion and desire for me was just as great as mine for her.
She spread her legs further, and I began to slowly lower her toward my straining erection. I didn’t want to impale her all at once, but to take her slowly, so that I could feel every inch of her dripping wet, warm, pussy, as it wrapped around every inch of my fully engorged cock. Gently, she broke the kiss and pushed her body upward, while raising her legs from the kneeling position that they had been in.
“Wait! Don’t leave!”, I gasped.
“Darling, I’m not going anywhere, but to paradise with you!”, she rasped in the sultriest, sexiest, and sweetest voice that I had ever heard.
Then, holding on to my hands, she began a slow and sensual dance, with her knees bent, slowly descending her sweet pussy toward my now, absolutely, jerking, cock. I could see her juices glistening down her inner thighs and drops even beginning to creep below her knees.
Yes, she wanted me, just as bad as I wanted her, and yet she was taking the time to play, and to ensure that I got as much pleasure out of this as she did. Well, two could definitely play at this game, and a whole lot better than one.
As she swayed in her slow dance, I watched her ample breasts gently swing alternately back and forth, and then forward and back. Her glistening pussy finally made contact with my throbbing cock, and she began to gradually let her hot, wetness down on my pulsing shaft. Her pussy lips were about halfway down onto my shaft, when I gathered all of the remaining self-control that I could, and pulled myself into a sitting position, easing her off of my cock, and then grasping the sides of her hips, guided her down into a sitting position.
