Copyright 2000 Manjaro
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Carrie threw her robe on, ran her brush through her hair, and raced out to catch Ben. Finding him was no great feat. Only one door was open off the hallway, and light streamed out through it.
When Carrie reached the doorway, she hesitated briefly. Ben was sitting at a desk, facing away from her. She noted that it was a huge room, probably a combination of what used to be two. It was furnished as a bedroom/office, had hardwood floors, and reflected the rest of the house in its simple neat quality.
"You're in big trouble, mister!" she snarled, entering his room.
"I believe I told you to stop your babbling and listen to me. We offered you our hospitality and you accepted. I don't know where you come from, but out here we're obligated when someone helps us out. As for your threats, why don't you pick up the phone and call the police right now? The answer, of course, is that you can't. You could stay the night as planned, but then what are you going to say to the sheriff tomorrow? That I did all these terrible things to you, then you decided to spend the night, and call him the next day? I don't think so! And what did I do to you? You must not have tripped the latch when you shut the door. If the door isn't latched it'll open when someone opens and closes one of the outside doors (As he spoke to her in his calm reasonable voice, Carrie could sense the anger behind it. The hint was in his eyes.) As I recall, when you left us it was to go to bed. When I came down the hall and found the door partly open, it was only natural that I look inside. There you were in the middle of your little game. So what if I watched, and listened. Maybe it was part of your game that one of us would? Even if it wasn't, so what? This is our house. If you don't close the door before playing, that's your problem. We don't see women out here often, and I happen to enjoy watching an attractive woman let herself go."
"That doesn't give you the right to spy on me!" Carrie protested.
"Well, I guess I took the right! Now, you've got a choice to make young lady."
"What choice is that?"
Ben smiled at her with a mixture of cold anger, and something else that Carrie didn't recognize, or didn't want to recognize. "You can start returning our hospitality, or you can pack up and leave, with no further assistance from us, right now! Let me make it clear that by returning our hospitality, I mean that you'll do exactly as I say."
"You're crazy! I'm outta here!" Carrie screamed at him.
"That's what I thought you'd say, and that's fine, though it certainly indicates poor manners on your part. Before you finalize your decision however, perhaps you ought to look out that window over there." He pointed towards a large picture window facing the front of the house. "Look carefully!"
Carrie was angry, but not so angry that she missed the warning tone in Ben's voice. She crossed the room to peer through the large piece of plate glass into the night. For a moment his point escaped her. She continued to look, but all she could see, other than stars, were those objects illuminated by the lights from the house, or from the sodium lamps near the chicken yard and the barn. Finally it hit her. She couldn't see anything else! It was pitch black beyond the lights of the farm. There were no man-made lights to be seen anywhere!
"I don't suppose you'd consider giving me a ride?" Carrie asked feebly.
"You heard me!"
"Just what is it I'm supposed to do to 'return your hospitality?'" Carrie asked.
"Come over here, Carrie," Ben said in a low, clear voice. He had swiveled his chair around so that he could watch her as she stared out the window. She approached and stood before him.
"Carrie, make your decision based on whether you prefer your chances out there or here. If you decide to stay, then refuse to cooperate, you'll have to leave immediately. Is that clear?"
Carrie didn't see what other choice she had. "OK, I'll take my chances here. You did stop and help me."
"You should have thought of that before you started threatening me," Ben told her, that hard look back in his eyes. "Now spread your feet a little further apart."
Carrie did as she was told. Ben leaned over in his chair and grasped her ankle in a gentle but firm grip for a moment, then began to run his fingers lightly, but still firmly, up and down Carrie's calves. First one, then the other, kneading the muscles and caressing her. Sometimes his fingers lingered behind her knees.
Despite her initial nervousness, Carrie found Ben's touch relaxing her. As the minutes went by, he was gradually moving his massaging fingers higher, exploring her thighs, front, back, inside and outside. Ben had easy access to her lower body as the robe only fell to mid-thigh, and it was all Carrie wore. Ben lingered long enough on her thighs and touched her so skillfully that when his hands finally reached the soft inner flesh close to where her legs joined, she parted them of her own volition.
Ben maintained his leisurely exploration, allowing his fingers to barely brush at the hairy delta between her legs, before traveling around and about her body to caress her buttocks, sometimes cupping them with his work-roughened hands, at other times spreading her cheeks to run a fingertip the full length of the crevice between them, and to scratch lightly at her most secret, sensitive hole.
By now her robe had fallen open completely and hung on her shoulders only. Carrie had responded to Ben's attentions in other ways as well. She breathed in short, little gasps as he progressed in his intimacies. She began to move her body in anticipation of where he might touch her next, and she had again become wet with wanting.
When Ben's fingers finally touched that wetness, Carrie groaned and looked down at Ben through desire-slitted eyes. She locked her eyes briefly with his, seeing him grinning knowingly as he continued to manipulate her, then she broke her gaze in momentary shame before again giving in to the sensations that were beginning to crowd out concern for anything else.
When Ben zeroed in on her clit, Carrie was glad beyond words that she'd chosen to stay. He touched her in brief little flurries, each a bit different from the previous time. Sometimes he rubbed her lightly up and down. Sometimes in a circular motion one way, then another. Sometimes he scratched her there ever so slightly with his fingernail. No matter what he did it brought Carrie immense enjoyment. She was now gyrating in wanton abandonment and making little mewling sounds of pleasure as he used her at will.
