Dude Ranch

I won a holiday. It was a holiday for two for a week on a dude ranch. We could go riding, swimming, play sport, have a barbecue, go hiking, whatever. It was all covered. All I had to do was turn up with a friend and we were set.

I asked Debbie, of course. She's my best friend and we do everything together. She said yes, and when May rolled around we were off. I suppose it wasn't the best time for a holiday, but when the holiday is free who's going to complain. I wouldn't really expect them to give away holidays during their peak period, and the forecast for the week was good.

Debbie has just nudged me and suggested that I tell you about us. I'm Isabel. Debbie and I have been best friends since forever. We have the same tastes and we even look the same, both being about the same height, with dark hair and brown eyes. Seeing we like to dress in a similar manner people tend to look at us and assume we're sisters. We're twentyish, I'll say. There's a bit of a plus or minus with that, but it's none of your business. We're quite fit, keen on outdoor activities and both play sport, non-competitively.

So now you know who we are and you can see that a week at a dude ranch fitted very nicely with our tastes. We arrived in a timely fashion, settled in and then went to see what we could do for the rest of the afternoon. My intention was to go riding and 'see the panoramic views of nature from horseback' as per the brochure. Debbie suggested tennis first, but readily assented to go riding.

We promptly encountered our first disappointment. There had been a group trail ride organised that morning and most of the guest horses were gone. They only had the single mount left. Well, they had two mounts but the guy in charge explained one was reserved for the guide. No guests went riding unescorted until a guide knew they could handle the horse properly and had shown them the key trails. They were not in the business of losing guest, we were told.

I was quite willing to go and play tennis with Debbie but she knew how much I'd been wanting that first ride. She just laughed at me, told me to go for my ride and she'd go find someone willing to teach her to play. If she did, I hoped the sucker wouldn't make any bets on it. She was lethal with a racquet.

The guy in charge (call me Mark) watched while I saddled up my horse. (He'd have done it quite happily, but I wanted to. This was my ride and saddling up was part of it.) Then he mounted his own horse and let me lead the way, just giving general directions as we trotted off. I'd told him that I wanted to get up high and see the whole place laid out, and he said he knew just the spot.

Once out on the trail we had a short gallop, just to let the horses stretch their legs, then we settled down to the main ride. Mark indicated a tall hill off to the side, telling me that there was a trail that went right to the top and you had marvellous 360 degree viewing of the area. He said I should put my camera in panoramic mode and slowly turn a circle and get everything in one shot. While I did that, he said, he'd move the horses around so that they wouldn't actually be in the shot.

We finally got to the top and I dismounted. A closer description would be I managed to scramble off. It had been a while since I'd ridden that far and I was a little stiff. Mark indicated a spot, what looked like a bump on the ground, a little grassy knoll, and when I stood on it I could see for miles. I turned around and the view was absolutely terrific. The sun was still high and it was a cloudless day and I just knew that I'd have a wonderful shot.

I started shooting and turning, while Mark shifted the horses to where I'd already taken the shot. I just hoped the panorama would come out OK and show the magnificent view. I'd toss it up on the TV when I got back to my room so that I could check if I needed to come back and try again.

"As you can see," said Mark, "from here you can see everything taking place down on the ranch. The air's so clear that if you've got binoculars you can actually see and recognise individuals as they go about their business.

The other thing that seems to appeal to women up here is that they can be screwed while watching everyone and know that no-one can see what is happening to them. Some women get a real kick out of it. I make it a point to take care of all the ladies I bring up here."

It took a few moments for that little spiel to sink in. Then it did. Mark had just offered to take care of my needs – i.e. have sex with me. I did a double take and the politely refused his offer.

"Ah, well, there'll be no need to take care of me, thank you," I said politely, trying to smile.

"Sorry, miss," he replied, "but you misunderstood what I said. I wasn't offering to screw you, if you'll pardon the turn."

I relaxed, and then found myself completely unrelaxed when he continued.

"I was telling you that I am going to screw you. You're a woman of the world. You know what happens when a man gets a woman alone. Are you going to try to fight me off?"

Damn it all. He asked that question as though he were genuinely interested.

"Damn right I'm going to fight you off," I said hotly. "No way are you having sex with me." Even in my own mind I was trying to avoid the word rape, but I'm pretty sure that's what he had in mind.

"Yes, I thought you might," he said, nodding agreeably, "so I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll take off your clothes and show you that I can take you. After I've demonstrated that, we'll move over to that little knoll and you can bend over that while I get to work."

I didn't say anything. I just made a run for my horse. Didn't even get close, did I? As for fighting him off, his muscles were like steel cables. He just grabbed my wrists and pushed them behind my back and held them there with one hand. His other hand was busy undoing buttons and zips and things. I just hadn't realised that a man could so calmly and competently strip you against your will, but wriggle and strive though I did, he just peeled of my clothes, one item at a time.

All my clothes, too, damn him. He wasn't satisfied with just pulling down my jeans and panties. He wanted me completely naked. And he made free of all my private equipment while he was stripping me, stroking my breasts and tweaking my nipples and giving me a friendly little goose. To get my juices flowing, he said.

With me naked he proceeded to strip off his own trousers and things. His intentions certainly stood out. I wasn't meekly standing there, mind you. I was struggling and wriggling and telling him just what I thought of him and uttering all sorts of horrendous threats. I almost expected a lightning bolt to come down and smite him, I invoked god's name so loudly.

He was indifferent, holding me away so I couldn't bite him and casually deflecting any kicks I sent his way. At least, I found out why he took my boots off. The one kick I did land nearly broke my toes.

Now that he was ready he forced me onto the ground. Quite easily, too. A foot pressed behind my knees and I was on my way down, like it or not. Once there, he pinned me, one of his legs over one of mine, both holding me down and keeping my legs parted, and he still had my wrists and was now holding them above my head.

Talk about being completely exposed to his gaze. The sun was shining on places that had never seen the sunlight before. And he was touching those places. His mouth fastened onto my breasts – not savagely, but gently kissing and sucking, licking and teasing. At the same time his hand was down below raising havoc with my pussy.

He kneaded it, massaged me, teased me by pulling lightly on my little tuft. It wasn't long before he was slipping his fingers between my lips, testing the waters, as it were. Eventually he found the waters were there, and nice and wet. He didn't say anything to warn me of his intentions. He just rolled over onto me and calmly positioned his cock for entry.

He didn't ram home, mind you. He just pushed in slowly and steadily, and there wasn't a thing I could do to stop him. He had mw worked up enough that he could slide along my passage with no problems, and I could just feel myself stretching and yielding, letting him enter. Then he banged home and there I was, neatly skewered in the great outdoors.

I was glaring up at him and he was smiling down at me.

"This is fun," he told me, "but I don't want you to miss the scenery."

With that he pulled out and jumped to his feet, pulling me upright with him. He pointed at the little knoll that sat like a nipple on top of the hill.

"I want you to go and bend over that little bump," he said. "Face the ranch so you can get the best view."

I wanted to tell him what he could do with his little bump, but what would be the use? He'd just pick me up and dump me on it anyway. I edged up to it and lay down over it. It was weird. It positioned me in a sort of puppy-dog position, nicely presenting my pussy to Mark. Anyone might suppose that the bump had been designed for just this purpose.

I could see the ranch quite clearly. I could see the people moving around and I was willing to bet that one of the people I could see on the tennis court was Debbie. Hi Debbie, I thought. I'm watching you while I'm being screwed.

Mark settled down behind me. He knew I was ready and just slotted right into position, driving all the way in with one quick thrust, making me give a quick squeal.

Then he just stayed there like that, not moving. One hand came around and started idly playing with my breast but, apart from that, he seemed to fall into his professional guide role. Not that many guides would instruct their clients while ravishing them. It seems a bit of a non-professional activity in my books.

I'm lying, or crouched, or draped over the lump, however you care to put it, Mark's crouched over it and in me, and I was constantly aware that he was in me. Every time he moved to point to something I seemed to feel his cock shifting about as though it wanted to point as well.

Mark traced the path we'd take to get here. Pointed out the path that went up into the mountains at the back of the ranch, helping me see whereabouts the riding group were. You could just see them as small dots on the trail. He showed me the way to the lake, indicated the tennis courts and mentioned that it looked like my friend playing. He even pointed out the rooms Debbie and I had. I'd expected we would have to share a double room, but we were each given a single next to each other. Apparently an unexpected guest had claimed the double we were going to have. We couldn't really complain. It's not as though we were paying.

And every time he pointed he'd shift a little, and his cock would shift a little, and I would be driven that little more demented. When Mark had first started pointing things out I'd looked, but thought, "Big deal. You're raping me, you asshole."

I'd grunted acknowledgement the first couple of times, but then I found that his cock was doing odd things to me. He'd point and his cock would shift and I'd notice it. He'd point again and his cock would shift again, and how could I NOT notice it. As he went on with his tour guide stuff I was noticing his cock more and more.

Slowly but surely his random jerking and twitching had a diabolic effect on me. I went from wanting him to take that damn thing out, preferably without really using it on me, to thinking OK, use it on me and then take it out, to a final stage where I felt like yelling at him to start using the thing. I mean, why even bother sticking it in me if he wasn't going to follow through.

I bit my lips and sweated.

"Jeez, what am I thinking of?" Mark suddenly stated. "Here I am, rabbiting on about the ranch, while you're probably more interested in getting some loving attention. You should have reminded me."

Reminded him? Was I that uninteresting that he needed a reminder as to where his cock was? Then why didn't he just take it and shove it up his own ass? I'd be happy to help put it there.

However, now that he had turned his thoughts back to the subject of dalliance (sound so much better than rape, doesn't it?) he started. He pulled back and slipped straight back in and there was no way on earth that I could stop myself pushing back to meet him.

From that point on we went at it hot and heavy. He was sliding his cock in and out of me with great enthusiasm and I, unfortunately, was meeting it the same way. He'd managed to get me so worked up that I would have screwed a gargoyle, let alone someone like Mark. Did I mention that he was six foot tall, solidly built and had a lot of muscles and a nice smile? It just goes to show.

There was something about the way I was splayed over that lump in the ground that made everything seem to go so easily. I was in just the right position for Mark to be able to really bang home and the lump seemed to just hold me there so I couldn't move away from what was coming.

Not that I wanted to, once the action really started. I was still squealing and screaming and carrying on, but my heart wasn't in it. My hearts ambitions were a lot lower, telling me to shift those hips, here he comes again. And I was shifting. He'd drive in and I'd be pushing to meet him, feeling his hands tighten around my breasts as he gripped them to give himself traction.

Long before he finished my cries has switched from protest to approval, and I'm damn sure Mark knew it. I suspect that the ladies he attends to up here may not all be willing at the start, but I bet they are before he's finished. I wonder how he sized up his victims, deciding which ones would respond. Not that I was going to ask him, but was I carrying a sign saying please rape me? I'd have to get rid of it if I was.

Eventually Mark kicked the whole thing up a notch. He seemed to double his speed, and his cock just ran riot inside me. I was squealing in earnest, excited and eager and keen to match him. Hey, I'm a woman. Women have stamina. We can go longer than any man.

I told myself that, and it's true. A determined woman will wear out a man eventually. The problem was, if the man knew what he was doing the woman was going to have a climax somewhere along the way. Then the man can finish off and take a hike while the woman gathers her wits.

Mark was banging me hard, thrusting in harder and harder, and I was squealing and bucking under him and then it all got too much and he just blew me away. I climaxed and heard him give a yell of triumph, and then he really let go in me, enjoying his own climax while I just shuddered and trembled under the force of mine.

I have to admit that Mark is an excellent guide. He's prepared for any eventuality. He actually had a packet of wet tissues that I could use to clean myself up before getting dressed. Now how often does a guide have wet tissues on hand? Forethought is what does it.

As we headed back to the ranch I knew that I wasn't going to make any complaints about the incident. I was prepared to swear that Mark knew it, too. The trouble was, if I did complain there would be a lot of unpleasantness, including Debbie and me probably having to kiss our holiday goodbye. By my estimation, the unpleasantness arising from the complaint would probably be worse than the actual assault. I was feeling more indignant than anything else. I mean, he could at least have made an effort to seduce me instead of just grabbing.

I threw him a nasty look when we got back and told him he could unsaddle my horse because I wasn't spending another second alone with him. Then I stalked out and went and found Debbie.

I didn't tell Debbie about the incident. She'd have been more upset than I was. I did tell her about the ride and the view and she told me about her tennis. She's suckered the tennis pro into playing with her and then trounced him. She's good, and if he started off easy she'd have run over him before he knew it was happening. He'd taken it in good spirit though, and wanted a return match later in the week.

After dinner we went back to my room and looked at the panoramic photo I'd taken. It was good. It's amazing what you can do with a good camera. After that we watched TV for a while and then decided to catch some sleep. We didn't want to stay up too late as we wanted to be up early.

There was a connecting door between our rooms that we left unlocked. The walls were pretty solid, and I suspected that the rooms were virtually soundproof, which is a good idea as some guests can be awfully rowdy.

Now that we were retiring Debbie cut through the door to her room and I started to get ready for bed. Not that it took much getting ready. I wasn't wearing makeup so it was just a case of a quick wash and grab a pair of panties and an old t-shirt that I use for night clothes. What with one thing and another I'd actually managed to squeeze in a nice shower after my ride. You know, getting rid of the horsey aroma.

I was just about to hop in bed when there was a knock on the connecting door to Debbie's room and it opened up and a man was there. I didn't know him and I was both startled and annoyed. I could have been naked, I thought indignantly.

"Excuse me, miss," he said quickly. "I think you'll find your friend needs your help."

My indignation dropped away very quickly and I was hurrying past him to see what the trouble was. It was easy to spot. My best friend, Debbie, was bent over the side of the bed, naked, her bottom shining in the light and her pussy on display. Standing behind her, making sure she stayed that way was Mark, cock out and smile in place.

I just froze for a second and was ready to hurl myself to Debbie's defence when the man who opened the door reminded me of his presence. He grabbed me from behind and hustled me over to the bed and I found myself bent over it next to Debbie. As you can guess, my panties and tatty old t-shirt didn't remain on me for long.

I'd noticed that Mark had been thoughtfully playing with Debbie's pussy while he waited, undoubtedly getting her ready for action. From the flush on her face and the way her nipples were pointing, he was succeeding. Just the knowledge of what was going to happen was enough to get me wet. Shocking, isn't it. But I was still sensitive from what Mark had done earlier in the afternoon and I just knew what was coming.

I saw Mark give a nod to the man behind me and start pushing into Debbie. I was watching in shock. I'd never actually seen another woman being taken, and seeing that big cock pushing its way into her made me even hotter. Then I found I was receiving my own big cock. The man behind me just pushed and popped straight in.

Debbie, I saw, was watching me get taken, and she had a rather funny look on her face. I'm guessing it's also the first time she's ever seen someone else get screwed. We were chalking up some firsts on this little holiday.

Once they were settled the two men got down to business. None of this mucking around that Mark had shown earlier. His cock slapped hard into Debbie, being greeted with a sharp squeal. A fraction of a second later a big hard cock slapped into me, and it, also, was greeted with a squeal.

Debbie and I were looking at each other getting violated, while undergoing our own violations. There'd be a slap/slap sound as two cock hit home, just a fraction of a second apart, followed immediately by a squeal/squeal, the squeals being a fraction of a second apart.

For some reason I found the whole sequence of things incredibly erotic. I'd see Mark starting to drive home into Debbie, which seemed to be the signal for me to receive attention. Then there'd come the slap/slap, squeal/squeal, and the whole sequence started again.

For some reason I could almost imagine I was watching Mark take me. Debbie said something similar afterwards. She said she'd see Bob (She knew him. He was the tennis pro) pushing into me while feeling Mark sliding along inside her and she just knew that was Bob's cock in her, even though she was watching me.