End Of Masturbation For Jake

WARNING: The language is foul, the story is unbelievable, the sex is unrefined and under-described and the characters are... well simply unlovable. On dear. But the dog is ok. EG

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Women in the town did not like Jake Landers. Many regarded him as being a bit of a slob, tight with his money and not inclined to smile and to boot was surly which meant he was deficient when it came to conversation.

That added up to universal opinion: Jack Landers was a dead loss.

Not unexpectedly, because of the accelerating rejection he got from the ladies -- er loose ladies that is -- Jake Landers eventually gave up on women and settled for the alternative: his hand.

As every guy knows having sex with your hand is a great test of personal intimacy. It acts as if it knows you and if you use your mom's or girl friend's or wife's stocking or silk panties dampened with eggs whites or thick cream or even anal lube it's possible to hit the ceiling light. Run a DP video and have the music center up loud playing the Warsaw Concerto and it's possible to splatter the ceiling. Oh shit, what will the old cleaning lady think?

When his parents sold the family business to enter a retirement village they gave Jake $250,000 so he purchased an derelict ranch in the hills east of the city and set to work to bring it back into production. He grazed only a few head of cattle while he cleared weeds, rebuilt fences, found where the water holes were and shot anything that moved that wasn't human or his branded livestock.

One day as Jake lay over a big rock masturbating before resting and having lunch he heard the sound of a woman singing. His erection died on him so he folded it away, buttoned his Levi's and went over to the rim to look down on to the dry riverbed that only flowed water for a few days after prolong rain.

The woman was unloading stuff from an RV, setting up camp on his land it seemed. He was about to return for his rifle and put a bullet up her ass and ordering to leave his land when the music got to him. She was now singing 'Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer'. His mom used to sing that to him when he was a kid and the radio wasn't going because his father in a drunken rage had kicked the shit out of it. When his dad was ready to have his mom suck him again, or whatever they did, he would go to the auction house and pay a few bucks for a repossessed mantle radio.

Jake finally got tired of waiting for the woman to undress and show tit and ass. He went back to work grubbing out weeds and brush. He figured at the rate he was going it would take twenty-five years to clear the farm but he had plenty of time because he was only twenty-seven. He figured he and the woman never would come face to face. He was wrong about that.

Jack was sprawled on the kitchen table jerking off when he heard her voice: "May I do that for you in return for flour, salt and drinking water?"

"Sure," he said and then thought no fuck it, she was getting off cheap.

"Nah, cancel that. It's not a good trade. I want your ass."

"Okay."

He was flummoxed. The stupid woman was suppose to barter and they'd agree to a pussy lick and she would jerk him over her tits."

"When do you wish to ass-fuck me?"

"Er in a few days. I... I need to get to know you first."

"Christ, you're shy. I never thought I'd meet a shy guy. You've never ass-fucked have you?"

"No... I mean of course I have, thousands of times."

"Liar."

"Would you accept hundreds?"

She giggled and said no. Only the truth was acceptable.

"Well you're right. I've never done it in the ass."

"But you'd like to?"

"Yeah, I picture it when jerking off."

"Oooh, I bet you eject a long stream thinking that."

"Um I'm Jake Landers. We seem to be on an inappropriate level of conversation for two people not yet introduced."

"I guess you're right Jake. My problem is I like talking about sex. It scares most guys off. My name is Springfield Lucas."

"Springfield?"

"Yes mom was eighteen just finished high school when her math teacher at Springfield grabbed and seduced her in a park and she found herself pregnant."

"What that same day?"

"Well I don't believe it quite works like that. Knowledge takes some time coming."

"Oh I can understand that. So she marked that momentous event by naming you after the locality?

Springfield said yes. There was a problem naming her after her father because his name was Chauncey.

At that point that exchange fizzled.

"Um the flour, water and um I forgot the other thing I wanted."

"Salt."

"Thank you Jake. You have a stupendous memory."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes and a long penis that hooks to the left."

"Well you have stupendous eyesight seeing that from the doorway in this gloom."

"I tend to see very well things that interest me."

"I'll get the salt and flour. You pour the water."

"Into what?"

"The receptacle you brought with you."

"I thought because I was asking for flour and salt I might as well cadge something to carry the water. People tend to become generous when pushed."

"Well if I'm going to provide a big plastic container for water pleased show me your tits."

"I don't have any."

"What?" Jake said, pointing.

She grinned and pulled down her top. "These are breasts."

They were a pair of absolute beauties.

"I'd ask to see your cunt but let's keep that for a rainy day."

"I don't have one."

"Jesus, I knew meeting up with you like this was too perfect to be true."

Springfield giggled. "I hope it rains soon."

Jake wondered what the hell she was talking about. He threw an empty plastic canister her way and tipped some salt into a plastic bag and took a 5lb bag of flour from the pantry and placed it on the table for her.

"How come you're out of provisions?"

"I haven't been shopping for at least a month. I'm on a painting expedition and had supplies to last me three months but accidentally left behind at my last camp a box containing salt and flour and I under-estimated my consumption of drinking water. I bath in rivers."

"I have a barn that needs painting."

"Not that kind of painting. I paint landscapes. That's why I'm camped beside your dry riverbed. The rock formations above it are amazing. I saw you looking at me, waiting for me to undress and sunbath I guess. I followed you quad bike tracks and found your ranch house."

"That was smart. What do you think of my setup here?"

"Pretty punk."

"What? Oh yeah."

Springfield filled the container with water. "I better go. Talking to you is not as productive as painting."

He missed the smile and scowled, "Thanks."

Jake watched her walking away. She turned and came back and said, "Look, if it rains come down to my RV and you can have all the ass you can handle."

"Gee thanks," he murmured, looking up at the cloudless sky. He then studied the swaying ass as it headed away from him and grunted, several times. He chuckled, "You animal you."

Farting, he sighed and said aloud, "That slick chick won't allow you to touch her, not in a thousand years. She's just like those babes in town. They are all the same, stuck up and don't know what they are missing."

Jake booted his dog in the doorway to get her to move out of the way and the bitch nipped his ankle. "God you bitches are all the same," he howled, limping into the house. He lay down for a rest and somehow the events of the day got mixed up and worked themselves into a nightmare He dreamed he using his rusty pocketknife to cut a new hole in the front of Springfield for him to use as a cunt. They were on a raft, going down the farm riverbed at sixty miles an hour in a flood surge and a dog was biting off his feet hanging over the edge of the raft. No it wasn't a dog, it was a couple of hungry alligators.

Awaking in a huge sweat, heart thumping, Jake heard a roar in his ears and interpreted that as heavy rain in the roof. He grabbed a jar of lube and went racing off towards the RV half a mile away and had run twenty yards before he realized he hadn't tripped and fallen over stones because he could see them. It was full moon in a very starry night sky, not a shadow of a cloud in sight and the ground was dry and dusty.

Turning back, head down and feeling like shit, Jake trudged back to the house, made coffee and read a two-year-old well-thumbed copy of 'The Farmer's Journal' until he dropped off to sleep. He awoke four hours later thinking it was Springfield licking his leg but it was his dog sucking up to him wanting its dinner it had missed out on the previous night.

Then came a voice. "Good morning, you're not at your favorite occupation."

"What, grubbing weeds and brush?"

"No you fool -- masturbating."

"I daren't touch it in fear I might explode. I've been thinking about you and your plight."

"Oooh. My plight?"

"Yeah, you said you didn't have a cunt."

"Oh, are you still on about that. That was yesterday. I began my morning dildo drill and I got thinking about you and became all choked up and found hitting my clit wasn't fun any more."

"I see. I can't invite you in because you're already in. Would you like breakfast or a fuck?"

"Oooh. Decisions, decisions. A fuck please."

"Great, I'll put to dog outside. You won't want her tongue up your ass when you're sucking me off."

"Quite. What's her name?"

"She doesn't have a name per se."

"Oh this sounds interesting. So what does she have?"

"It depends on my mood and what's happening."

"Sounds complicated."

"No Springfield, it's quite easy and the name generally fits the occasion. At times I call her 'You Mutt', 'Good Doggie', 'You Fucking Stupid Bitch', 'Dog' and 'Aren't You Poppa's Good Girl."

"Well that's all very well but think of the confusion she carries; she has no idea who she is."

"Oh yeah, well when she splits the herd and sends them off in all directions and I yell 'You Fucking Stupid Bitch' she sinks to the ground, puts her front paws over her eyes and whines."

"That's just her saying sorry. She needs a name. I'm going to call her Tequila."

"That's no a dog's name."

"Oh yeah? Tequila, come here Tequila."

The dog-now-with-a-name left Jake's side and went over and sat against Springfield's leg.

Amazed, Jake said, "Well I be fucked."

"I certainly hope so." Springfield purred. "Outside Tequila."

The dog slunk outside and the door closed behind it.

Springfield pulled off her boots and her jeans and panties. "Do you like the look of my pussy Jake?"

He liked it ever so much and told her. "Please don't ever call it a cunt again Jake."

"Understood."

"I suggest you don't waste saliva licking your lips Jake, lick pussy instead," she said, leaning back on the table and spreading her legs.

Jake dropped to his knees and his tongue went unerringly to the target in the tradition of Robin Hood's tournament winning arrow at the Sheriff of Nottingham's annual garden party.

"Ohmigod," she almost wept in joy, discovering that Jake's dick and tongue shared a rare gene and his tongue also hooked to the left.

The cunnilingus alone almost exhausted Springfield but she courageously toiled on taking a huge pounding doggy-style with his finger up her ass. Shooting into that climax Jake went off and returned with lube and delivered the best ass-fuck Springfield had ever had.

She rested for an hour, eating a beautiful omelet that she could never match. At that Springfield realized she had to hold on to Jake -- a superb screw, a superb cook, a guy who'd be relatively quiet around the house because he didn't talk too much and a guy who had plenty of acreage for her to park her RV and enjoy camping out in the wilds to feel as one with nature while she painted her vistas she'd captured on camera.

"Darling do you have a pair of crutches. I need to walk back to my RV."

"What after just one fuck and I'm darling?"

"If I counted correctly it was four fucks in the one series darling."

"Oh yeah. I'll run you back to your RV on my quad bike. I have a route down the cliff so you won't have to slide down the bank in your perilous state. You need to get fitter if you're going to fuck so much."

She grinned and patted his ass.

Jack thought no way would he let this gorgeous blonde go. The blue-eyed beauty could have any guy in the county, even the Governor, even the Governor's wife, but she'd chosen him, at least for the moment, because he was available for sex and supplying her the provisions she required. He was sure he'd scored because she was a foul-mouth bitch and would have found that didn't work in most towns and cities. She wanted the freedom of the great outdoors and now knew he was of her kind. So he took the plunge.

"Springfield?"

"Yes but could you wait until the morning. I feel a bit sore."

"Okay, sure. But I was wondering. Would you like to winter over here with me? It's a 20-mile drive to get out on to the highway from where you are and to bring in the RV on the dirt track in from the west. We'd need to do that soon before the rains come. You can sleep in the RV and paint there if you are set up for that. I'll hook the RV up to my power supply and also run a well water connection from my kitchen supply. All I ask in return is you fuck me. I'll even cook for you but you're probably the better cook."

"That sounds marvelous darling. I usually winter over with my parents but I hate the city; I feel trapped in it and my ease with gutter language upsets my mom's friends. I regret there is no phone coverage here."

"But there is. I have CB radio connection. Buy a CB radio for them and Bob's your uncle."

"I don't have an uncle called Bob."

She smiled when Jake began the explanation and her smile broadened when he grinned at her, knowing he'd been suckered.

"I can see this working out very well, Jake, and we can probably begin work on making the house more homely. But you know what this means don't you?"

"You want babies?"

"Oh good boy," she giggled. "What I mean was in making my pussy readily available that means the end of masturbation for you Jake and my dildos will probably perish, unused."

"I like the sound of that darling."

"Me too Jake."

THE END