"Chrissakes, Sarah, stop that! I'll wreck the car!" Ryan Carver gasped, struggling to keep his focus on the winding road ahead. Sarah Carver, his bride of three days, had reached over from the passenger seat to unzip his pants. She'd gotten his cock out and was stroking him to a full hard-on.
"I'm sorry," Sarah said. "It's just that I love your cock so much. And you haven't properly fucked me since the motel this morning."
"I have married a sex maniac."
"You, sir, have made me what I am today." She giggled and released his cock. "How long 'till we reach the ranch?"
"Fifteen minutes." Seeing Sarah's expression, Ryan added, "If you'll let me concentrate on my driving, I'll speed and we can be there in ten."
"I suppose." Sarah folded her arms and pretended to sulk. "Just don't get pulled over. Then I'll probably suck the cop off just to speed up the legal process." Ryan shot her a look. "Joking, dear."
Sarah truly was mad about her new husband, and almost as mad about fucking. To assuage her parents' concerns about her pulling up stakes and moving from her small Midwestern hometown after college, Sarah had solemnly promised them to be a good girl and to save herself for marriage. It was eye-rollingly old-fashioned, she knew, but Sarah had been the only child born to a middle school principal and a retired city policeman, and they were protective parents. She loved them both too much to break her word--however hasty and ill-considered the promise was.
Sarah had kept her promise. Technically.
It hadn't been easy. Every man and his brother in L.A. wanted to get into her pants. So did their fathers, and their sisters and their agents, etc. Small-town she might be, but she wasn't so modest that she didn't understand why.
Sarah was a natural blonde, with crystal-blue eyes set wide apart under hedgerow brows. At five feet, four inches tall and weighing just over one hundred pounds she was a slender nymph of a thing. She had long legs, narrow hips and her pert round breasts sat high on her rib cage.
And of course, every guy in the city opened with, "Would you be interested in modeling?"
But Sarah did not want to model, and definitely was not interested in drinks after work or a weekend in Malibu or any of the strings attached to such supposedly social companionship.
Sarah was a good girl.
Then, along came Ryan Carver.
She'd been temping in an architect's office where Ryan was lead designer on a project that everyone swore would revitalize the downtown area. She'd fallen head-over-heels for the tall, well-built guy with movie-star looks and, "Yes, Mr. Carver, I very much would like to have drinks with you. And dinner. Malibu? Very much yes." And, and, and...
Of course, between the after-hours drink and their "I Dos," Sarah and Ryan had done everything
but
fuck. Ryan swore that her first blowjob ever was the absolute best he'd had and made her believe him. And his dick was a beauty, nearly a foot long and thick as her wrist. Deep veins crisscrossed the pole, and the head was the size of a plum, round, and turned a deep, angry purple when he was turned on.
Sarah saw to it that Ryan was aroused as much of the time as she could. They spent most of their evenings with his face between her legs making her come while she licked and jacked his cock until he'd shoot off with incredible force.
Six weeks after their first date, they were married in a quick civil ceremony with a couple of Ryan's friends as witnesses. Sarah just couldn't wait any longer to get his cock up her pussy.
After three days of frantic, nonstop fucking, she was going to meet Ryan's family for the first time.
"We're actually already on the ranch, you know," Ryan said. "Have been for a while. The house is another twelve miles."
"Really? Wow, this is an amazing spread.
"Well, Dad likes his privacy."
"And how. Sweetheart, I love you like crazy but you are the most tight-lipped person I've ever known. If your friend Alice over in the contracts office hadn't let slip that your father is
the
Jake Carver, would you have told me before I met him and my jaw fell off?"
Ryan shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "Alice knows too much. Dad gave up the movies ten years ago. Says he didn't want to be one of those face-lifted action guys pretending to jump out of planes without a parachute, fighting off ten kung fu masters who were half his age."
"He's still a pretty big deal."
"...And, he'd probably whale hell out of me if I went around bragging about that stuff. He's a lot more modest than you'd expect."
"Noted. I'll try not to gush too much. But I warn you I may swoon."
"You'll probably have until tomorrow morning to brace yourself," Ryan chuckled. "Stepmom texted me that they're out riding for the day. Dad's really hands-on about the spread. He likes to check the fences and windmills. Lucy says they're pretty far out and will get back late."
The Carver family home was a huge Spanish-style villa by a river, surrounded by rolling lawns. Sarah saw a few groundskeepers but the house itself was quiet and seemed deserted. "There's a small household staff, but Dad--"
"Likes his privacy, yeah, I'm getting that."