Country Pleasures (29 page)

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Authors: Primula Bond

BOOK: Country Pleasures
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‘I want this to go on forever,' she murmured, pushing his shorts down over his hips. His head jerked back as he looked at her.

‘Is that an order?'

In answer she wriggled backwards, letting her breasts drop heavily down in front of her, so that she could pull his shorts off. He wore nothing underneath, and her tongue came out and slid across her lips as she saw the firm erection rising out of his groin.

‘It was covered in all those layers. In the barn –' she chuckled softly, taking it in both her hands and rubbing them up and down so that it grew longer as she fondled it ‘– I felt it, but I had no idea how luscious it had grown.'

‘Are you taking the piss?' breathed Jack.

She chuckled again, pulling hard at him, measuring his weight in her hands. Then, still holding him, she crawled off the lounger and onto the grass, then tugged him down on top of her. For a moment he was on all fours above her, still wearing his T-shirt, his cock stiff in her hands and dangling over her stomach, then she spun round onto her knees and pushed him down onto his back as he had pushed her onto the hay bale.

‘No, my darling, Jack. I'm taking the penis.'

She knew she couldn't hold out much longer. She realised this was what, in the back of her mind, she had been working towards all summer. The variety of her sexual experiences had been stunning, and she was anxious to repeat them, even with Mimi, but Jack had been the one initially to arouse her. They had awoken each other in the barn during that storm. He was the one she had wanted to find again, whom she wanted to go even further with, if he would let her. Now that she had tried new things, new positions, new people, she wanted to try it all over again with him. She suspected that was what, for all her brazen talk, Sally wanted with her Jonathan Dart.

‘Fuck me, Jack,' she said loudly, not caring who might hear or about sounding ‘crude'. She yanked her bikini-bottom aside to show him her pussy, feeling it was more sexy to keep it half on. He smiled a lazy smile, halfway to a laugh, his dark-brown eyes gleaming at her from under his long eyelashes. She felt a frisson of amusement at the unaccustomed beauty of his eyes. It had been too dark to see them properly in the barn. He had never once removed his glasses when they were kids. Now he was naked and vulnerable before her. But he was still stronger than her. She tried to lower herself onto his rearing, ready cock, but he gripped her hips and stopped her just as the rounded
tip of it brushed her pubes and sent tiny trickles of desire across her sex. She waited, her legs shaking with the effort, and then he let her drop far enough down for the tip to burrow in, to get just short of her burning clitoris, before stopping again.

‘Not totally in charge, Janie,' he gasped. Then he yanked her down onto him so her crotch was against his and she shrieked out loud with the brutal impact of his cock jammed right up inside her. Then they were humping like crazy, making up for lost time, no longer caring about control. She stretched herself out on top of him, squashing her breasts against his chest, her mouth slicking across his, her legs stretched out flat between his. She let his hips take their weight, lift them both off the ground and down again as her inner muscles gripped and pulled him further and further in. Then she was up again, knees bent on the grass, bouncing up and down on him, hearing herself yell and scream with the release of tension, then lying down again to try to slow the rising tide of climax. But it wouldn't turn back, and she let him rock her, simply moved with him, as she pressed her ear to his chest and heard his growls of ecstasy. She felt his cock juddering and hardening still more inside her and the lusciousness of the sensation unlocked any remnants of control. The orgasm flooded through her, warm and wet and long-awaited. It kept on shaking her until all she could do was roll with him sideways onto the grass and trap him with her legs until it had all faded away.

‘You really didn't know who I was in the barn?' he asked after a moment.

‘No. You just popped up at the right time, when I needed someone to remind me how good sex was. I really needed to fuck.'

‘Are you serious? I thought you were such a sweet girl, Janie Flower. At least, you used to be. I'm shocked.'

She laughed and sniffed the sweat on his skin.

‘Don't give me sweet. You and that foul cousin of mine bullied me mercilessly for years. Either that or you just left me out of all your games. You couldn't stand me. No wonder I didn't recognise you the other night. Although I suppose I should have clocked the glasses.'

‘You're so wrong. We both fancied you, even then. We had wet dreams about you. We used to fight over you.'

‘You were always so horrible to me! And anyway, Ben's my cousin; he couldn't fancy me.'

‘That's what he thought, until I stupidly pointed out to him that you were only second cousins, or something, and anyway, it's not illegal.' He reached for his glasses. ‘We fell out for years because of you.'

Janie pulled the tangled hair off her face. ‘Don't believe you. Ben's never mentioned it.'

‘He wouldn't – too proud. But you can ask him when he gets here. When we were last all together, we were growing up too fast. Not kids any more.'

‘I was fifteen, and you were both sixteen.' She twisted her hair into a plait and let it drop down her back.

‘And all the games were over.'

‘You were taking pot shots at me with an air rifle!' screamed Janie.

‘No, I was aiming for seagulls, and trying to impress you!' Jack shook his head. ‘I was going to ask you for a date, but then you just vanished, the summer was over, and so was our childhood.'

‘Sentimental tosh.'

‘Ask him.'

She punched him playfully and looked around the garden. They can't have been lying there for long, but the sun had started to creep behind the row of tall trees bordering Jack's farm, and the air was definitely cooler. There was still no sign of Jonathan or Sally. The approaching dusk suddenly jogged an old memory.

‘There was a moment, now you mention it,' she murmured. ‘You and I, alone in – was it that barn, or another one? Somewhere filled with straw.'

‘We were playing hide-and-seek with some younger cousins of yours. It was a hay rick out in one of the fields. We were the wrong age to be playing games like that, but the right age to be so totally sex-obsessed. But we were – or I was – whenever you were around. You and I fetched up hiding right inside the hay bales. I was so close to you. I wanted to kiss you. I don't know how I got it so wrong, but instead of melting into my arms, you scrambled out of our hideout, screeching!'

Janie laughed. ‘All I remember is seeing my reflection in your glasses as you bent closer and closer to me.'

They were silent for a few moments.

‘He'll be here soon,' Jack murmured, as if to himself. Janie edged herself off him, feeling his still firm penis sliding slowly between her wet lips and thumping down onto his leg. She lay on her back for a while, looking at the sky which was very pale with the approaching sunset.

‘Who?' she asked dopily when he didn't say anything more.

‘Ben. Cousin Ben. I told you, he knows everything.' ‘And he's coming here?'

‘Hot foot! Amsterdam is like a rest-home compared with what's been going on in this place!'

He pulled her back towards him, holding her against his firm body, and she felt a fresh stirring of desire inside. She hooked her leg over his, realising that the burgeoning excitement wasn't only reserved for the new, grown-up Jack. It was the thought of Ben fancying her all those years ago. Handsome, aloof Ben, who she was scared of, even now, and only ever spoke to on the phone.

‘Come on, let's go see what those other sex fiends are up to.'

She flipped away from him, suddenly restless. He groaned and put his arm across his eyes. Janie jumped up, pulled on his shorts and her broderie anglaise gypsy top; most of the buttons were missing. She walked round the corner of the cottage. Of course –there it was, just as she had envisaged the first night she and Sally were there. They had cajoled poor Derek into constructing it before he left, and there it stood. The wigwam.

Sally bounded out of the kitchen door as Janie approached. She was carrying cushions and rugs.

‘We thought we could have our supper in here, but there isn't room,' she chirped. ‘Jono and I tried it out just now,' she said, with a wink, ‘if you know what I mean. There's only room for two people to do it doggy style. But you can have too much of a good thing. Even I know that! We'll have it out here on the lawn,' she whooped, her face flushed with sex and triumph. ‘Supper, that is!'

Jonathan followed her with a crate of champagne and a shining new barbeque set which he'd produced from the boot of his car. Like Janie they had pulled on any old thing to wear. She giggled to see Jonathan sporting the famous pinafore. Sally had on his polo-shirt, which reached to her knees.

‘Guess what,' Janie started to say, bending to go inside the wigwam and grinning with pleasure at its blood-red interior, illuminated by the setting sun. ‘Guess who's coming to the cottage?'

‘What was that? We've got to tell you something, too.' Sally dropped the cushions onto the grass outside. ‘Jonathan and I are going back to London.'

Janie frowned. ‘You can't. The summer isn't over yet.'

‘I don't mean immediately. But in the next few days. We've got a business to set up.'

Janie's limbs were heavy with a new contentment. She had no energy to argue or worry.

‘Whatever makes you happy, doll. Think you'll find it hard to leave, though.'

Sally rested her head on Janie's arm for a moment.

‘You're right. It's been a tonic for me, coming here. I never dreamed it would be so good. You're the best, Janie. And who would have thought that the icing on the cake would be that king of bastards following me down here and gulping down humble pie and a lot more besides?'

‘Who would have thought it?'

‘And who would have thought you would turn into the local nympho? You almost put me in the shade. I said
almost
.' Sally laughed. Jonathan yelled something, and she turned to go out. ‘By the way, what were you going to tell us?'

‘Nothing. Nothing.'

Janie stood in the middle of the wigwam, where the fire would be if they lit one, and stared up to the pointed, twiggy ceiling just above her head. It was just right; Derek had done well. He'd probably had a wigwam when he was a kid. But it was too small. They were adults now. It was just an illusion that they could
all have played in here. She felt a slight plunge of disappointment in her chest, and as she wrapped her arms round herself something told her to keep Ben's impending arrival to herself.

Local nympho – daft description, but she liked it. And Sally was right. Everywhere she looked, Janie saw sex. Everyone she looked at. She stretched her aching back. She'd got the man she wanted. She was beginning to like the new Janie.

An unexpected breeze tugged at the sheet that Derek had folded back to form the entrance to the wigwam, and someone else crept inside. Her body relaxed in the knowledge that any second now Jack's medical hands would start to caress her again, and she knew how they would feel on her, and she would show him some more tricks. She didn't turn round. The hairs on her neck rose as he paused behind her. She could hear him open his mouth to say something, but then she could just hear his breathing. She closed her eyes. Sally was right. There was just enough room for two in here. Somehow that had the effect of muffling the garden outside, as well. Somewhere she could hear Sally and Jonathan arguing about the food, but in here all was quiet and dark.

At last his hands came round to her front, very slowly stroking her stomach. Hesitantly, she thought, smiling. As if he'd never touched her before. She leaned back against him, and felt him stagger slightly at her sudden relaxed weight. She took his hands and pushed them up from her waist, up over the little blouse until they rested on her breasts. She felt him stiffen with desire behind her. His fingers trod over the broderie anglaise fabric in search of buttons, and found the couple that were still straining to keep it fastened over her breasts. She kept her fingers lightly on his wrists
and stopped him from flipping the buttons undone. She wanted to relish the feeling of her breasts being covered, but only just. Her tits were swelling with excitement, threatening to burst the buttons anyway. She smiled to herself, stifling excited laughter. Now she really would look like a ravished milkmaid, her little blouse sliding off her shoulders. No more sweaters, coats, baggy shirts – she hadn't even worn a bra for a week. Her breasts pushed forwards heavily and eagerly into his hands and her laughter turned into a soft moan. He was breathing hard into her neck now, pressing himself up against her.

‘Hold it right there,' Janie said into the steamy silence. ‘This is my wigwam. This is my fantasy. In here, you do as I tell you.'

Jack paused, then drew back from her. The flap of the wigwam dropped down, enclosing them in a blood-red cocoon.

‘Kneel down,' she ordered, and saw him do so. Slowly she started to undo one tiny button, revealing the deep cleft of her cleavage, the rounded shapes of her breasts illuminated by the light outside. Then she undid the other button, held the blouse closed for a moment, then opened it, and slid it off by wriggling her shoulders as she'd seen Sally do when she was doing her Kicker Girls striptease. Janie let her breasts drop heavily forwards in the light.

As if on cue some music started up inside the house – slow, jazzy tunes. Janie took her breasts in her hands and started to knead them, gently at first, then more firmly. This was going to be her own floor show. She couldn't dance, but she knew enough now about pleasure to do it to herself. She couldn't see Jack's face clearly, but she knew he was wearing a lustful
expression. She could also imagine Ben's face, kneeling beside his friend, watching her as well.

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