His Nasty Little Pussy

BEAU

I walk back into the barn wondering how in the hell the place can feel so lonely already when Ella just left a few minutes ago. I’d very nearly crossed the line with her when we were brushing Pierre. I can’t let that happen. I’m going to have to watch myself around her. She’s just so damn beautiful. Of course I’d noticed her as soon as they’d moved in. How could I not with her perfect tight little body, dark hair, and piercing blue eyes? I’d managed to keep distance between us, though. But now she’s 18, graduated, and my new farmhand.

How in the hell someone could manage to make shoveling manure sexy, I do not know, but she’d done it. And done it well, I had to admit as I looked around the barn again. She wasn’t afraid of hard work. I liked that about her. She also didn’t mind getting dirty, which I liked, even though she was wearing a feminine little sundress that barely covered her perfect ass. I’d been forced to leave the barn earlier. It was either get the hell out or grab her and fuck her up against the wall. I’m still debating if I made the right choice.

Pierre gives me a soft whinny, and I pat his nose.

“I know, I know, spare me your lectures,” I mutter. “She’s too young, and I’m a perverted old man.”

He reaches his muzzle up to sniff me, looking for a treat, and I laugh, giving his nose another pat.

“I was right. She is spoiling you.”

After I’ve let all the horses out to graze around in the field and get some exercise, I see Henry come ambling into the barn. He sits down by my feet and looks up at me with those soulful droopy eyes that only bloodhounds can manage.

I bend down to give him a well-earned scratch and notice the purple flower that’s sticking out from behind his collar. Smiling, I pull it out and bring it to my nose, inhaling the sweet scent. I give a long, heavy sigh. This is not good. Developing feelings for the 18-year-old next door is not a good idea. I tell myself this over and over again as I finish the chores for the day, but I’m still carrying the flower she left me when I head into the house as the sun is setting.

When I wake the next morning, it’s to the image of Ella in her red sundress, the way the nape of her neck had looked, so small and delicate, and the memory of how soft her skin had felt beneath mine. I’m already rock hard and the sun has barely risen. With a groan, I roll out of bed and head straight for the coffee maker. This is going to be a long day.

With a mug in hand, I grab some clothes and start the shower. Louisiana is the kind of climate that requires at least two showers a day when it’s summer and you’re working outside. Plus, I’m not about to walk around all day with a hard-on.

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No, the plan is to just get her out of my system now, and then I’ll be fine. I try very hard to convince myself of this as I stroke my hard cock. It’s not difficult to conjure up images of Ella and what I’d like to do to her. Hell, I’d been thinking about them nonstop since she showed up yesterday morning.

My hand works myself faster as I imagine bending her over in the tack room, hiking her skirt up and burying myself in her tight pussy as she moans and begs me for more. The smell of leather mixing with her feminine scent, the sounds of her wet pussy as I pound into her, and the way her ass would jiggle with each movement all worked together in my fantasy to bring me close to the edge. I pump myself harder, faster, and think about kissing those soft, full lips of hers, cupping that sweet face in my hands, and right as I cum, I imagine fucking her with her very swollen belly between us. The force of the orgasm has me pounding my free hand against the shower tiles, groaning with Ella’s name on my tongue.

What the fuck was that? Did I just have a pregnancy fantasy with my 18-year-old neighbor?

Still reeling from the force of the orgasm and the image of a very pregnant Ella, I rest my forearms against the tiled wall and hang my head under the water, letting it wash me clean. I don’t know what in the hell I’m going to do about this, but I know I can’t hide in my damn shower all day, so I step out and towel myself dry before throwing on some jeans and a red t-shirt.

Once outside, I whistle for Henry. When he saunters over to me, I quickly pick a wild daisy that’s growing by the porch and weave it through his collar.

“Don’t look at me like that, Henry” I tell his droopy eyes. “Go wait for Ella.”

I give him a butt scratch, and then watch as he heads down the path toward her house.

I’ve just put the horses out to graze when I hear someone coming up the drive. Looking out the barn door, I allow myself a quick, pained groan before stepping out with a smile on my face when Christine appears from her ridiculously huge SUV.

“Mornin’,” I say with what I hope is a polite smile.

She throws her blond hair over her shoulder and gives me a big smile.

“Mornin’, Beau.”

Christine has been coming on to me for years, and I don’t know how much clearer I can be on the fact that it’s just never gonna happen. She’s a year younger than me and not horrendous or anything, but she does absolutely nothing for me and that’s never going to change. Plus, she can be a real ass when she wants to be, and she’s the type of woman who would pitch a hissy fit if she gets even a spot of dirt on one of her perfectly manicured nails.

“What can I do for ya?” I ask, hoping this visit will be short and painless.

“I just wanted to see how you were doin’ and take a peek at the horses.

I’m still thinking about buyin’ one, you know.”