by Candy Quinn
I was screamin’, and I knew the animals were gettin’ spooked but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about nothin’. Not about gettin’ pregnant, not about fuckin’ a stranger, not about anything other than the fact that I never wanted to let go of this feelin’, not ever.
His thrustin’ was growin’ stronger, that rough strong hand of his sinkin’ into my hip, holdin’ me in place as the slaps of our flesh grew louder an’ louder, fillin’ the whole barn up with our noises. The moans, the squeals, the whimpers and wet, fleshy smacks. It was so crass and lewd, I never dreamed sex could be like it. It was overwhelmin’, and I was lost in it like a girl who couldn't swim cast off into the tempest of the ocean.
“Awww fuck girl, you feel so damn good,” he crooned out in approval, his dick throbbin’ inside me, raw and unprotected, just the way God intended, even if nothin’ else that was happenin’ had been goin’ as he wished.
He bit my neck, leaving his mark on me, and I cried out louder, but it was just makin’ my body feel electric. Every slap of his body against mine sent fireworks into my core, and I was losin’ myself to pleasures I’d never known existed.
“Oh fuck yeah, Annie,” he cursed again, like nobody I never knew, his words so crass and unhindered by the decency. Each thrust of his raw, unsheathed cock strikin’ deep into me, followed by the loud slap of his heavy, cum-laden balls as they struck against my clit, strikin’ a new sharp tingle of pleasure throughout my form.
And suddenly, all those worries I had started slippin’ away.
He thrust in, and I no longer cared about bein’ a loose woman.
He kissed my neck, and I no longer cared that he took away a sacred part of me.
His fingers grazed by breasts, and I no longer cared that I’d thrown away my hope of a husband.
And then he thrust in even harder and I no longer cared he might get me pregnant.
He fucked away all the pain and anguish, all the worries and remorse. That big, bulgin’ dick of his took away it all, left only pleasure and a feelin’ of bein’ full. Bein’ whole.
His deep, husky groans and moans filled the air along with my cries, and together we made such beautiful music. His fingers sank into my breast, squeein’ and kneadin’ its flesh, revellin’ in how good I felt, seemin’ to pay reverence to my body at the same time he defiled it so hard and feverishly.
“Oh fuck, Annie,” he called out, “you’re the tightest… sweetest lil’ piece of ass from here to Tokyo.” I didn’t even know what he meant entirely, but it sounded so damn good to my aroused ears, I just ate it up.
And he pounded me so hard until my entire body was singing. It was like all my muscles just suddenly relaxed at once, spreadin’ out from my belly and makin’ my knees tremble and my scream go louder so that the animals down in the deeper barn startled.
I didn’t have words for what was happenin’ to me, but his hand gripped my tit tighter, holding me against him as he thrust harder and more desperately.
“Oh shit, fuck yeah Annie,” he called out, and I could feel the wild throbs of his manhood inside me, the way it grew thicker, stretching my tight little hole around his dick, makin’ me squeal with how much more he threatened my cunny hole. “I’m gonna cum inside you doll, you want it… you want it don’t you?” he asked, all breathy and lusty as he fucked me harder, my ass cheeks shaking from the blows.
I couldn’t deny him anything, not then, and I screamed, “Yes!” as my body continued to spasm out of my control.
Never had I felt so good, not in all my days.
Judging by the way that big, muscular brute fucked me so hard, with such wild abandon, makin’ my body sing and squeal in pain… neither had he.
He pounded me hard, his stance wide as his dick throbbed heavily. The slap of his balls subsided as they tightened up, and he let loose such a deep, roaring groan as he thrust me so full of his cock, spurting his rich, virile seed deep inside me as he came.
“Ohhhh fuck yes!” he cried out, smacking his palm against my ass and squeezing my tight all at once. “Take it baby, take it… take all my seed,” he husked as he rut into me so intensely.
I screamed and one of the sheep bleated in protest of our noises, but I didn’t care. He was in me so deep I had to go up on tip toes just to try to shift away from that passive shaft of his.
“Ahh!” I whimpered as his muscles pressed against my back, holding me to him tight.
That big ol’ hand of his slid from my ass, around to my front, and as I felt him spasm and spew his thick seed into me, he worked at my lil’ clit again. But this time it felt so different, it weren’t the teasin’ touches of before, this was him tryin’ to do somethin’ to me wholly new. He was gettin’ me off, right in time with his spasms of pure pleasure, pumpin’ me full of his seed.
“Ohhh yeah, baby… cum on my dick for me, cum with me,” he commanded, sweaty and glistenin’ in his nude glory.
I was so sensitive and tender it almost didn’t even feel good and then all of a sudden, it was like all the spotlights went on and I couldn’t imagine ever feeling better.
A tremor went through me, and my knees were weak. It was like he was holdin’ me up because I was buckin’ like a wild thing, screaming into oblivion.
I had only just met that outlaw, but we were already workin’ as one. The two of our bodies cryin’ out, lost to pleasure as we came. Our organs workin’ as one, his seed fillin’ me up so much, right to my depths.
The pleasure seemed to last forever, and yet not long enough. And too soon we were comin’ down from our high, pantin’ and sweaty, the two of us bare like the animals that surrounded us.
I’d seen the animals go at it like nature intended, but what they did had nothin’ on us. Not on the brute force of it, nor on the way he kissed at my neck and on up to my ear.
My mind was still hazy but it was comin’ back to me slowly, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret it, no matter how careless and dumb it was. He made me feel more alive than anythin’, feel more pleasure than a woman ought to.
And I didn’t even know his name.
“What’s your name?” I could hear myself askin’ before I even knew I was sayin’ the words.
But before his pantin’ breath could form into words of his own, I heard the sound of a car approachin’, and the two of us tensed. We parted, and the sloppy mess of our loins left me feelin’ so empty.
“Who is it?” he asked me, but then I saw clear as day who it was.
It was Sheriff Jeb.
“It’s the law!” I said in warnin’, fearin’ for him despite myself, clamorouin’ to pull up my daisy dukes and tie up my shorts. “You gotta hide!” I said, desperate to protect the man who took my virginity. Who first made love to me.
He did just that, and hid out of sight as I did my best not to walk all bowlegged and funny from his fuckin’, only hopin’ I could pull it off.
* * *
Needless to say, Sheriff Jeb had his suspicions with my strange state of bein’. But he knew me since I was a kid, and he never did more than worry and fuss that I should head on upstairs and get some rest. As for my bandit lover…
Well, he vanished. Out of the blue.
By the time I got back to tell him that officer Jeb was goin’, he was gone, and I never saw him again.
That is, until about six months later, when my belly was big and round, and his child was growin’ inside of me.
That was when he showed back up on my doorstep in the middle of the night, a crooked grin on his face as he stood there in his leather jacket. Lookin’ so damn gorgeous.
“Damn girl. You look even better pregnant,” were his first words to me. Though they weren’t the last. In the comin’ months, he hid out on my farm with me, seein’ our baby come to be born.
It wasn’t what I expected, not even a little bit, but the Lord works in mysterious ways.
The Fugitive
Book Themes:
Barely Legal, Breeding, Bad Boy, and Love
Word Cou
nt:
26,647
* * *
Life is pretty slow in the countryside, not a whole lot changes. Which is why it was so easy to pick a newcomer like Asher out of the crowds at market.
Among all the usual farm folk, gathered to sell their wares, make trades and connect with neighbours and friends, that one big, muscly man, dressed in black leather and ridin’ atop a noisy motorcycle stood out for all to see.
Nobody even rode a motorcycle in all my years livin’ in the country, unless you count the time old man Murphy rode a moped he fixed up. But that didn’t even last long before he tumbled off into a ditch, and his wife made him swear never to go climbin’ on that busted up old thing again.
So, not exactly a comparison.
“Who’s that guy?” my cousin said to me, a tall, lanky fella who looked like he weighed no more’n me, despite the fact he was a heck of a lot taller. No matter how much hard farmwork he put in, he never could seem to shake that figure of his.
It took me a moment to snap out of my starin’ and day dreamin’, watchin’ the guy as he dismounted from his bike, tugged his zipper down and let the whole world see his chest, hugged by a tight grey tanktop underneath. The kind of top that clung to his every muscly bump.
“Looks like a fool,” my cousin said, his face contorted in annoyance. “Ridin’ a big ol’ noisy bike, like he can’t get enough attention to sustain ‘im.”
That’s my cousin, a bookworm if ever there was one, he never had much patience for flash or showin’ off.
But me?
I didn’t mind if a guy showed off a little bit. I preferred it, actually. Especially when he looked like that.
Marcus must’ve caught me staring again, because he was nudging my arm with his elbow.
“Earth to Shelby, hello?”
I tucked some of my hair behind my ear, still looking at Asher, not that I knew his name yet at that point. I wondered what his story was.
“I can hear you,” I said to my cousin, getting annoyed that he was intruding upon my quality fantasizing time. “Y’know, if you’re so concerned about people seekin’ attention, maybe you shouldn’t be jabbin’ me in the side tryin’ to get mine so hard.”
That little dig got to him, I could see. Marcus grimaced, screwing up his mouth and lookin’ at me all annoyed.
“We were in the middle of what’s called a conversation, Shelby,” he said, but my mind was back on that biker I didn’t yet know. Watchin’ him in those leathers, the big boots, stompin’ his way over to Mr. Fennel’s booth to talk to him about somethin’.
Mr. Fennel, though, looked like he shared more of Marcus’ opinion on the newcomer than my own, because he didn’t have a lot to say to the big, gruff man, even as he ran his fingers back through his thick, luxurious blonde hair. That caught my attention somethin’ fierce.
“I bet he’s just some thug from the big city, come to make a ruckus until the sheriff kicks ‘im out,” Marcus said, noticing my look. “What? That’s happened more’n a few times these past few years! You best watch out now, Shelby. Over there on that farm of yours now, with nobody but yer invalid mother.”
Yeah, my pa passed away years ago from a heart attack, and now my ma is wiltin’ away herself after a horrible accident. She ain’t any help to me, she can barely keep care of herself as I tend the farm.
“Maybe you could use a man around, y’know. To help out, and keep ya safe,” Marcus said, smiling lightly.
“Yea, that’s a good point,” I said, taking a step towards the stranger. That’d be a great opportunity, and a totally valid one. He looked like he could toss hay with the best of them.
If I could convince him to come work on the farm, not only would I be able to spend more time with him, but it’d actually genuinely help us out.
“Hey! Hold up,” Marcus said, grabbing my shoulder to spin me around towards him. “What’re ya doin’?!” he said, lookin’ at me in a panic, as if I was about to walk off the roof of a skyscraper to my doom. “I was talkin’ about me!” he said defensively. “That fella’s the trouble you need to keep at bay!”
Marcus was so rarely an excitable fella, unless I got him to talkin’ about his books and such. This weren’t one of those times. So it was strange.
But what good was he around the farm, with his scrawny arms and his bookish nature?
I furrowed my brows, staring at my cousin.
“You ain’t much for farm work, Marcus and you know it.”
“Hey,” Marcus said, looking genuinely offended. “I can pull my weight and then some,” he said, sticking his chin in the air. I’d stung his pride, that was for sure. Ain’t often I’d seen him so defensive.
But then there was that biker babe, it was clear his talk with Mr. Fennel wasn’t goin’ well, the big old man was tuggin’ his suspenders and lookin’ away from Asher, refusin’ to meet his gaze. And whenever Mr. Fennel did that, it was because he was bein’ a right prick and couldn’t face up to whoever he was doin’ it to.
“I’m ready to head off and tend to a farm of my own, and I will soon enough regardless. But I figured if my cousin could use a hand, I’d offer it. Since you’re all on your lonesome and everythin’,” he said, Marcus’ hands upon his hips as I watched Asher pull away from Mr. Fennel and climb back atop his big ol’ hog.
I stared at Marcus, my eyes going a bit hard. I was getting annoyed, because I just wanted to talk to Asher and Marcus was distracting me. Killing my buzz.
I took in a deep breath, trying to look intimidating.
“You got your own stuff going on, and he’s just a guy lookin’ for a lucky break, some work to get him through a rough spell or something, I bet. I don’t know why else someone’d be out here in the middle of nowhere. And we’re supposed to help those in need.”
“Only as it makes sense to do, Shelby. You can’t put yourself and your ma at risk invitin’ a man like that into yer home!” Marcus declared adamantly, and I’d never known him to be so assertive with me, so persistent. So nagging.
Asher was already fed up it seemed, and he revved his engine and in a blaring moment, he began to cruise on by, and for a glorious moment his green-eyed gaze met mine.
“Darn it, Marcus,” I sighed, watching Asher make his way back onto the road.
“I’m just trying to do the good thing. The right thing. And you’re just bein’ a fuddy duddy. He’s just a guy, not an axe murderer.”
“You don’t know that, Shelby,” Marcus insisted, eyes wide, and I could tell he was serious. He weren’t kiddin’ around. His concerns were real. “You remember what they used to say about that one farm over on 12th district road? Burnt down because some punk from the city lit it up in flames. Just fer a laugh,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at me so serious.
All while Asher pulled off onto the road and began to drive away, and — then it seemed — out of my life for good.
I could’ve cried. I hadn’t seen a real man around this place in a long time, and he was hotter than the sun. Great body, that serious lookin’ face... He looked like the kinda guy that I’d regret going after, but I didn’t care about that. I was curious, like the second I saw him I became obsessed with wanting to know everything.
I licked my lips and then turned my glare on Marcus again before stomping by him, my cowboy boots turning up little tufts of dust behind them.
“If you don’t give strangers a chance, you’ll never meet anyone new.”
Boy, did I not know what I was gettin’ into.
* * *
I took my pa’s old truck back to the farm, left arm out the window as I enjoyed the sunny day, lamentin’ the lost opportunity for a new experience. Though it was all for naught, it seemed, as up there ahead, right alongside the road outside my place, was the fella on the motorcycle come to a halt, lookin’ over what seemed like a map.
Which was an odd sight, not many folks used paper maps nowadays, they all used their phones and tablets and such.
It was my
chance.
There he was, sat on his bike on the side, legs crossed in the dirt as he looked over the map, his long blonde hair brushed back as he seemed so serious.
I pulled over to the side, crawling over the passenger seat and rolling down the window. There were better ways of doing it, I know, but I had an ulterior motive. If I leaned out the window just so, he could look down my plaid shirt a little, which was undone down to the fifth button because it was so darned hot.
Nothin’ wrong with some harmless flirtation.
“You lost?”
The big, broad-shouldered man folded up his map and looked to me, and though he fell for the trap and looked down my shirt, he didn’t make out as if to hide it like all the local fellas did. He took a gander, then slowly trailed his gaze on up to mine, brazen as can be.
I liked him more already.
“Was lookin’ for some local farms,” he said, his voice deep and husky, a lil’ gravelly you could call it. Like none I’d ever heard before. “Lookin’ to offer my services, such as they are,” he remarked, tucking the paper map into a satchel along his bike. “Think you could help me, hun?” he asked, his golden hair glistening in the sun. I was amazed he could stand havin’ all that leather on in the heat.
“Well depends on what types of services you’re offering, partner,” I teased, enjoying his attention, and being his rescue.
His broad face was highlighted by his chiselled jaw, and scruffy blonde patch of hair, seemin’ like he hadn’t had an opportunity to shave in a while. He provided a wry, half-hearted sort of smile and ran a hand back through his hair.
“Manual labour,” he said simply. “You need somethin’ done, I’ll do it. And if I don’t know how, I’ll learn it. Just lookin’ to earn some money for my trip.”
He made it all sound so very simple, but only later would I discover it was anythin’ but.
