J Watson - Hot piece cousin

"Jesus," Dirk Donalds said softly. "Dad told me you were an old maid."

Sherry Murphy could fed his eyes touching her as she stood up. She'd been trying to milk the cow but it was the first time in her life she'd ever tried, and she wasn't doing very well. She brushed a strand of honey-blond hair back from her forehead and gave Dirk an exasperated look. "Well I'm not," she said.

"I can see that," he said, leering.

He'd been shocked when he had first walked into the barn and seen the woman bent over on the milking stool. She was nothing like he'd expected. He'd expected his cousin to look matronly, but there was nothing matronly about her. She looked about twenty-five and she was built. Her breasts pushed out at her pullover blouse and her jeans were just tight enough to reveal the outlines of her panties.

Her intelligent face was a mixture of innocence and education, as if she knew all about sex from books but had never tried it for real.

Dirk felt an aching between his legs and he knew he was going to have to try this pretty thing out.

"There's a trick to that," he said, pointing at the bucket. "Would you like for me to show you?"

Sherry was vet aware of all the things she'd heard about farm boys and barns. She gave an involuntary glance at the hayloft and she shivered. She wanted to run away but she controlled her impulse. She knew she had to learn to handle this guy quickly, or she'd never be able to live on the farm.

"Yes," she said softly. "I know I must seem foolish to you, but I've never lived on a farm before. I've always been big city. But Uncle Tim just made this place seem so inviting I couldn't turn down his summer invite."

"It's okay," Dirk said. "A lot of people don't know how to milk cows. You have to massage those tits just right."

Sherry felt herself blush right down to her feet. He wasn't looking at the cow when he said that. He was looking at her blouse. Again she had to fight an impulse to run away.

It was funny but she'd never had any problems with the city men. She'd not dated that much in her twenty-four years and most of the men had been very nice. Gentlemanly. She'd never had a man look at her like Dirk did.

She backed away as Dirk came near. He grinned at her as he sat down on the milking stool. His hands worked quickly and she watched the bucket being filled with white squirts. Dirk got it half-filled and then he stood up.

"Sit down," he said. "I'll show you how."

"That's all right," she said quickly. "I think I've got the idea."

"Sit down," he said.

He took a step toward her and Sherry sat down quickly. He was a frightening seventeen-year-old with big, brawny arms and hands that made three of hers. The way he spoke left little room for refusal.

His powerful arms went around her shoulders. He grasped her hands and began to direct her in the milking process. In a few minutes she got the rhythm but still he didn't take his arms from around her.

"You've got to have the right rhythm for milking," he said. "You've got to squeeze just right."

His big hands left her own and cupped her breasts. At first she couldn't believe it. His hands actually squeezed her softly with the same pumping movements he'd given the cow.

"Please don't do that," she pleaded softly.

"Why not?" he asked. "It feels good. These pretty tits need squeezing now and then."

"No," she said. "Nobody's ever touched me there before. Please don't do that."

He laughed and the sound of his laughter made her feel weak and sick. She panicked. She pushed herself away from him and slapped his face as hard as she could. Her tiny hand left five red welts across his cheek.

Immediately she was sorry. She thought she should have taken the soft approach to the situation, should have tried to talk to him. She knew she couldn't talk to him now. His steel-blue eyes had a fierce anger in them.

"Bitch," he said savagely.

She never saw his hand coming but she felt it. His heavy fist slammed her backward. He had bit her in the mouth and she tasted blood. He had split her lip slightly. She moved backward quickly, dodging the cow, and trying to get out of his way. His strong fingers wrapped around her wrist and jerked her back.

"No," she begged him. "No, don't! Please don't hit me again! Please!"

"I might not," he said, "If you're nice to me."

She was afraid of what he meant but she couldn't help being a coward. She'd always been afraid of pain and she knew Dirk was capable of really hurting her. She didn't want to make him any angrier than she had to.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Let's start with a bus," he suggested. One arm was around her waist and he tugged her closer to him. She could smell beer on his breath. She struggled weakly but she was not even close to being a match to this huge farm boy.

"Please," she said. "You're my cousin."

"That's just another reason for you to be nice to me," Dirk said.

He pinned her so tightly against him that she could hardly breathe. She could feel his heart pounding rapidly. She felt his hot beer breath against her necks his lips brushing gently against her throat.

"Nice," he said. "You're nice all over. You're nothing like I expected. I expected an old woman to cook and dean. I didn't expect a bod like yours."

"Please," she whispered.

This time his lips crushed hers and his tongue pushed at her tightly closed mouth. He wasn't having any of that. He lifted his head and stared down at her with those same empty eyes. The hand around her waist suddenly clutched her by the throat. He bent her head back until she was gasping for breath.

"Cunt," he said. "You'll do what I want. Open your Goddamned mouth!"

The pain was too much for her to take. She quickly opened her mouth as his meaty lips pressed down again. She felt his salty-tasting tongue filling her mouth. He wiggled it around until she understood that he wanted her to respond.

Tentatively she pushed her tongue against his and quickly drew it back. She didn't like the taste or feel of his tongue. His hand tightened around her throat and she started to grow faint.

She started wiggling her tongue against his frantically and the grip around her throat eased. He released her and she almost fell. She fell back a couple of steps.

"That's better," he said. "You're learning. Now climb up to the hayloft."

"No," she said.

"What?" he asked, grinning. "Are you telling me no again? I thought you were learning."

She tried one last time to get past him. She wasn't quick enough. His arm caught her around the waist and pitched her backward. She fell over the milk bucket and landed on her back in the hay. Dirk was still grinning, like he was having a wonderful time.

"Oh hell," she said softly.

She very seldom cursed except when she was really upset. Right now she knew there was no way out the door, and she couldn't outfight him. He was too strong.

He nodded at the ladder, saying, "Bitch, hurry up. I want to see that pretty ass of yours climbing the ladder. We're going to have to get you some tighter jeans. I like to watch girls in jeans climb ladders."

"Can't we talk about this?" she asked.

"There's nothing to talk about," he said. "I've got a hard cock and I want some of your pussy. That's all you need to know. Now get up the fucking ladder!"

Sherry had never heard any man use language like that in front of her, but what really frightened her was the look of intense excitement in his eyes. He rubbed one massive hand over his crotch.

"Hurry," he mid impatiently.

In another moment she could see that he was going tort violent again, if she didn't do what she was told. With a sigh, she turned to the ladder. He was right behind her as she climbed up the first few steps.