Free Country Pleasures by Primula Bond Page B

down in the barn to be fucked by the farmer. Not even Sally could muster a fantasy involving cross-eyed Maddock.
    Her farmer glanced in the direction of the doorway as well, but he didn’t flinch. His eyes were glazed with desire. ‘Nothing there,’ he said. ‘You don’t want to stop, do you? ‘Cause I don’t, and I’m not going to.’ He shook his head at her, grinned slowly, and stretched himself over her again, one hand still kneading her breasts, pushing them roughly together, feeling them give under the palm of his hand.
    An explosive rush of excitement spurted through her, crazy and hot. She was past caring if there wasreally someone there. She was probably imagining it in the craziness of the moment. In any case, the thought of someone watching them, riveted to the spot, breathing hard and clutching themselves as they watched the two indistinct figures screwing, was suddenly intoxicating. She was going mad. She kept her head turned towards the doorway, challenging her invisible spectators.
    â€˜Watch me, then,’ she hissed at the invisible audience, flinging her head back. ‘Go on, watch us, fucking here in the barn like animals.’
    â€˜Stop rabbiting, wench,’ he breathed hoarsely. Her thighs came up again to grip his and she pulled him towards her. Her words were stopped by her own moan of pleasure as he started to run his cock up the soft skin of her inner thighs, its blunt head nudging towards her cunt like a heat-seeking missile. He guided it through her swollen wet lips and burrowed in between them, parting them to make way. She wriggled his cock deeper and deeper inside her, clinging with her inner muscles to take in its delicious length. No niceties, no teasing, just on and on and up and faster. As its length slid past her clit she felt her desire grow to bursting point, ready to shatter and melt her, stoked up by the afternoon’s frustration.
    He pulled back for a tantalising moment, running the head of his cock round Janie’s tender groove. Her moans subsided, then, with a monumental jerk of his groin, he forced the whole stiff length of his cock into her until his balls banged against her splayed buttocks. He pulled his hips back until the length of his cock was nearly out, groaned with the effort of pausing, then thrust the meaty shaft in deep again and again so that Janie heard herself shriek with pleasure. He shuddered out towards his rapid climax, ready to shoot his loadinto her, and she wondered if he, too, was releasing months or years of frustration into her willing body.
    The eyes gleamed in the doorway as the voyeurs watched, and Janie knew what they could see: a man’s body flexed over a woman’s, humping on the hay bales, both semi-clothed, blue T-shirt, red linen shirt with arms outstretched, only the pale curve of the man’s buttocks visible where he had yanked his jeans down enough to get his cock out. In the gloom they would not be able to see the muscles tighten in his arse, but they would make out the thrust of his groin as he drew his hips back and pounded forwards between the woman’s parted legs. They would be able to see her scraping with each thrust up the hay bale beneath him, hair tangling in the straw. They would be able to see the man and the woman rutting. They would be able to hear the whispering and the moaning.
    His body was welded to hers now. One of his hands still clutched her breast as if it was a buoy, but the other released her wrists and spread out to support the small of her back, lifting her body right off the hay as her thighs clamped round his waist. Cold air tickled her spine where her shirt fell away. Her pleasure peaked with the sudden reminder of the outside world, and darts of desire chased her on towards another, higher point of climax. Sharp animal groans escaped from between her gritted teeth. In response he thrust into her with his own gathering shout of triumph. He crushed her as