Kelly: In the Hammock

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Amateur

The sun was intense, bright but not harsh, masked by the occasional cloud. It was very still, and there was little humidity, which made the heat pleasant rather than uncomfortable. Perfect weather for getting a tan, or just for lying in a hammock and reading a book.

Kelly was doing just that, on her back in her canvas hammock, limbs spread akimbo as she lazily thumbed through the pages of a trashy romance novel. Her hair, a mass of honey blonde curls that made men stare, spread out across the green canvas in a great, unruly mass. Her feet were bare, save for a silver toe ring on her left foot; her strappy sandals left in the kitchen when she’d made her way across her not-so-neatly trimmed lawn out to the hammock.

In the book, the heroine was fending off the advances of some Scottish lord or other. It was poorly written, fully of plot twists and a badly crafted love triangle. Kelly really didn’t care, the heat was making her sleepy, and the gentle rocking of the hammock wasn’t helping.

Sweat beaded on her skin from the afternoon’s heat, and she silently thanked herself for placing the hammock in her backyard as she undid another button on her sundress.

It lay mostly open, held closed by just three buttons. Thin cotton, the color of a faded rose, swirled back down around her waist from her long, lean legs as she raised first one, then the other, to evaluate the progress of her tan. Things appeared to be progressing well, the milky white of the winter and spring was gone, and the base she’d built during her trip to Puerto Vallarta seemed to be holding up well.

The afternoon’s stillness was getting to her, languid heat roasting her body as she lay there reading. Slowly, a wicked idea began to form in her mind. The yard was secluded, and it was only 1:30 in the afternoon. She had ample time to tan before any of the neighbors came home. And she was going to the airport later that evening to see Tom, her boyfriend of just over a year. The new tanlines would be a nice treat for him.

Besides, what was the point of playing hooky from your job if you didn’t misbehave a little? It wasn’t like anyone could see her.

Her decision made, Kelly quickly undid the last three buttons, exposing her body to the afternoon sun. She was nude underneath the flimsy cotton dress. It had been at least 85 when she’d come out an hour ago, too warm to wear anything underneath. Her panties, normally a pair of nice-girl white cotton briefs, were still in the drawer of her dresser where she’d left them.

She certainly hadn’t come out with the intention of sunbathing nude, that was something saved for vacations on faraway beaches. She’d really just intended to read her book and perhaps take a nap. Now, with her lush form exposed to the heat and sun, she felt wonderful.

Kelly leaned over and retrieved the tanning oil. Pouring a generous amount onto her stomach, she began to rub it onto her torso. Her supple hands moved up, massaging the oil into her stomach, her breasts, her collarbone, and then down again, to her thighs and vulva.

Back and forth, kneading the warm oil into her skin.

At first it was academic, the well-practiced ministrations of someone who knew to avoid sunburn. But soon the oil had been applied where it needed to go, yet her hands continued to move.

A new heat began to build.

Almost without meaning to, she’d become incredibly aroused by her own touch. It wasn’t anything new, she masturbated almost daily after all, but to be here, out in the relative exposure of her backyard was so brazen.

So wicked.

So hot.

Kelly ran one finger down between her labia, sliding it firmly over her clit, and shivering as the sensation coursed through her body.

Wetness flooded her pussy.

It had been too long. Tom practically lived in Denver for his job, and here she was, stuck in northern Virginia by herself most of the time. They hadn’t seen one another in weeks, and her body craved attention.

Slowly she began to stroke herself; her right hand drawing lazy circles http://www.izmirlitv.com across her breasts while her left began stroking up and down. She’s shaved that very morning, a ritual she conducted at least three times a week. Where it remained, her soft blonde pubic hair was trimmed very short, just a nice strip atop her vulva, but everything below that was essentially bald, which gave her fingers ample amounts of highly sensitive skin to stimulate.

Every motion, no matter how small, seemed magnified by the circumstances. Perhaps it was the leisurely nature of it all, this was no release after a night of clubbing with her girlfriends, nor the frustrations of a night of cancelled plane flights.

No, this was hers, on display for the world to see, and yet entirely private.

Kelly began to moan, tossing her head back and bucking her hips.

To be fair, she was vaguely aware of the sound of the lawnmower starting.

Soon she was getting close, pinching her nipples and licking her lips as her body began building toward an orgasm. The hammock creaked as it rocked in time with her movement. Sweat coated her body, some of it from the heat of the sun, some of it from her own efforts.

The sound of the mower got louder, though she didn’t really hear it. Besides, she was in her own back yard. High fences and shrubs surrounded her, and no one with a well-positioned upper story window would be home for quite some time.

Kelly began to stroke her clit in earnest. Her nipples were hard and sensitive, coated with oil and burning to be touched. Her mouth was open and questing, hungry. Her long legs were thrust off to either side, spread open for the world to see like some brazen slut.

She was moaning loudly now, and it occurred to her that she sounded like some whore caught on tape, the kind in those videos she’d found in Tom’s closet. When she watched those tapes she’d been appalled at first at the images of those women, so wanton and needy. Normally she was quiet, even in her own bed, a creature of silent gasps and little shivers. Today, however, she could hear herself, almost as if from a great distance, struggling and heaving her pleasure out in a loud, almost brazen fashion.

That thought thrilled her. It was so tiresome being good all the time. She worked so hard at her job and rarely got time to play. Tom’s being so distant didn’t help either. He constantly complained of being too busy to come visit. All too often trips were cancelled or she had to fly to visit him. Even then, their time together was too short.

She craved a simpler, purer experience. One where she was free to give in to her desires. One where she was treated like a woman.

So close, her body was on fire. Her fingers pistoned in and out of her pussy, her clit throbbing as she drew near. But still, something was blocking her…something was forcing its way into her thoughts. Something had changed, something demanded her attention. Her orgasm, still so close, faded abruptly, leaving her panting with frustration, her large full breasts heaving as her body tried to return to some state of calm.

Kelly drew her hands away.

“Don’t stop on my account.”

Startled she sat bolt up right, promptly dumping herself out of the hammock and onto the grass below. The fall wasn’t far and only her pride was hurt. Sputtering, Kelly climbed to her feet, trying desperately to gather her sundress around her as she looked up to see who’d spoken.

It was Corm, Tom’s new coworker, dressed only in a tight white t-shirt, jeans, and broken-in work boots. He smelled like gasoline and cut grass, and sweat made the shirt cling to his muscular frame in ways she found intoxicating.

“What, what are you doing here?” Some small part of her brain told her that her dress was still everywhere but covering her. But she couldn’t quite focus on that at the moment.

He smiled. “Tom asked me to come by and cut the lawn. He said he wouldn’t be able to do it and that you were coming out to see him, and so he asked if I could fill in. Honestly, I didn’t think anyone would be here. Let alone find you … like this.” There was a definitely twinkle in his eye when he said that last part. To her surprise, Kelly felt her pussy throb, and gasped slightly.

He raised one eyebrow at this. “Are you alright?”

Was she alright?!? Of course not! She was standing there, naked before this handsome man, who might as well have been a stranger, having just been caught in the act of masturbating.

She should have been running for the house in shame.

So why wasn’t she?

Why was she struck by the sudden desire the sink to her knees and suck on his cock?

A long moment passed while she struggled to regain her composure. At last, she recovered enough to draw her dress about her, and looked back at Corm. “Would you like a glass of lemonade? It’s the least I can do for you, seeing that you were nice enough to come over and mow my lawn.”

His blue eyes bore into her. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Something else then? Beer? Water? I am afraid I don’t have much else in the house.” She turned to gather her book, hurriedly buttoning the dress again. He’d already seen everything, but there was no need to parade it in front of him. Clearly, however, he’d like what he saw. She could see that from the rather impressive bulge in his pants.

“No.”

Why did he keep saying that?

“I don’t want anything to drink. I want to see you on your knees sucking my cock while you touch yourself like a whore. Like you just did.”

What?

His words thrilled her, but she felt obliged to be modest. She turned to tell him no, only to find him right there in front of her. His shirt was gone and his bronzed chest filled her view.

“I can’t,” she began. He moved closer, gathering her into a fierce kiss that made her knees weak.

“Wait,” she backed out of his armed, inflamed and embarrassed and angry all at the same time. Who did he think he was to touch her like that? And why did she like it so much?

“What?” A slight smirk told her that he knew what effect he was having on her. Standing there, looking like hired help, yet confident he’d soon be watching her submit to his will.

That made her even angrier. She might need to be a little bad once in a while, but submit to him? His smirk would be there a long time before she’d do that!

Her temper flared suddenly. “This, this is not going to happen. How dare you? My boyfriend sends you over to do him a favor and mow the lawn and you think that entitles you to … to … this … to me? What, do you think I am so sort of prize for your efforts? You think that just because you happened to catch me like this that somehow you get to fuck me?”

She was gesturing with her hands, like she always did when she was excited, and at that final, exasperated “me” she spread her arms down to either side, intending to emphasize her point, but instead releasing the dress, most of which wasn’t buttoned, to flap open. Her entire body below her breasts was there on display for him to see.

He smiled. “Yes, I think it does.”

And before she could object, he reached out, grabbed the few buttons she’d managed to close, and pulled. They popped off – not just open, she marveled on some level, but off the dress – and suddenly she was as exposed again as she’d been when he’d first arrived.

“What…” she began, but he grabbed her again, kissing her hard and placing one firm hand on her pussy. His index finger slid down between her lips, roughly scoring her turgid clitoris. Kelly spasmed from the sudden, welcome intrusion. She was soaked, throbbing with need. Protest all she might, he had his evidence – she wanted this too; her body was hungry with need.

Corm released her, slowly drawing his finger back across her, his fierce eyes fixing hers as he watched her shudder. He brought his hand up to her lips. She could smell her own desire, it was heady and made her even more aroused.

“This tells me I am entitled. The fact that you were lying there fucking yourself like some porn star just five minutes ago tells me I am entitled. And for no other reason that I want it, I am entitled.”

Porn star? He thought of her as a porn star? The thought was wicked and repulsive at the same time. She wasn’t a porn star! She had a Master’s Degree in Marketing for goodness sake. But still…no one had ever thought of her like that. Certainly not Tom.

“But more than that, the fact that your ‘boyfriend’,” his voice dripped with scorn, making her wonder if they weren’t as close as she’d thought, “is out of town on business and can’t be bothered to attend to his duties as a man entitles me. I mean mowing the lawn is one thing, but Christ, look at you, in your backyard, your body so completely unused that you’ve come to this?”

“Unused…” she said softly. He’d hit the nail right on the head. He pulled her in closer, her soft curves crushed up against his hard frame. “Sweetheart, you should be fucked hard every night. No exceptions. And I think you know that. And that, most of all, is what entitles me. Isn’t it.”

Kelly could only swallow and nod. How did he know?

“Kneel.” The command snapped her out of her thoughts.

“What?”

“Kneel.” His voice was firm now, and it scared her a little. What if she refused? What would he do?

What if she submitted?

“No.” She turned to go, bending gather her things from the hammock.

WHACK! A stinging slap on her ass sent her forward, sprawling into the hammock on her stomach. Her dress flew over her head, blocking her vision as she moved forward, then back with the motion of the hammock.

Corm caught her dress on the backswing and let the hammock do the rest, stripping her in a moment. He was so sure of himself, why was she fighting him, she wondered. She wanted this, wanted someone to treat her like a woman, and here it was, the very moment she craved, and she was letting it go?

“Wait!” She tried to roll over, to reason with him, but it was too late. As the hammock came back toward him a second time, she felt another stinging slap on her ass. She rocked forward again from the impact, only to return to another, and another. Every time she tried to twist over, he caught her feet and forced her back onto her stomach.

Six…seven…eight…nine…

“No…no more.” She gasped out these words, her posterior aflame from his punishment, but her pussy throbbing as strongly as ever. Somehow, he knew to call her on her indecisiveness. He was forcing her to do his bidding, to be the slut he wanted right then. And despite her embarrassment at being caught, despite years of decorum in and out of the bedroom, she was thrilled that he’d reduced her to a horny, gasping slut with just nine spanks on her butt.

He caught her feet and brought the hammock to a stop. “Well.”

Kelly rolled over at last, very aware of how her back sagged into the hammock, pushing her pussy up toward him, like some sort of offering.

“Please…” She mumbled, not knowing what to say. What could she say? How could she tell him to ravage her? This was all so new.

“Please, what?”

She bit her lip and looked down. “You know.”

“Yes, I do.” With that, he reached into the hammock and scooped her out into his arms. He kissed her briefly and then threw her across his should like a sack of potatoes as he headed for the patio door. She went limp, “Corm, what are you going to do now?”

“Now,” he said with a certainty that made it clear that this was what was going to happen, “I am going to sit on your front porch and watch you suck my cock. After that, I am going to take you inside and watch you shave yourself completely bald. Then I am going to fuck you until you can’t cum anymore.”

The porch? She sat up sharply at this…or tried to. He held her firmly in place with his strong right arm, and delivered a quick series of three slaps with his left. “This is going to happen. You’re going to make it happen. This is what you wanted, after all. Now be still.”

Kelly went limp again, full of apprehension at what was to come, and yet highly aroused.

Corm was so unexpected.

So forceful.

Just what she’d needed.

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