Sally-Mae

My name's Brad. I live up in the hills in the back country. I'm rather a big lad, being built along Schwarzenegger lines, though somewhat more handsome. Probably not quite as strong, though.

I'd been out hunting (not poaching, I had a license) and had come up with exactly zip. It was one of those days when the only animal prowling the woods was me, and I was now heading homeward.

Strolling down a back-trail I spotted someone coming towards me. It was a pretty young lady by the name of Sally-Mae. A sweet little thing was Sally-Mae, even though she'd never had too much time for me. She seemed to think I was some sort of moron. I'm not, but for some reason people look at me, say muscle only, and don't give me any credit for intelligence. This has counted in my favour in a number of instances.

Sally-Mae was more Tinkerbell than Xena. A petite little thing with a pixie face. I'd like to be able to wax lyrical about her figure but when you're Tinkerbell there's not all that much to talk about. Shapely enough, I guess, but lacking in volume.

It was a warm day and Sally-Mae was dressed accordingly, wearing a short-sleeved button-up shirt and cotton shorts. I'm quite sure she must shop in the kid's section still. Looking at her approach something was nagging at me. Then I remembered. She was married now. She'd recently married Billy-Joe who, in my opinion, was a genuine idiot, even if he did put on a good show of intelligence.

"Well met, Sally-Mae," I said as she approached. "You're looking good."

"Brad," she said, nodding to me. At least, she remembered my name.

"So how's married life treating you?" I asked. "And why are you wandering through the woods alone like little Red Riding Hood?"

"Marriage is just fine," she said airily, "and this Red Riding Hood can handle any wolves she meets. Billy wanted to go fishing and, not wanting to hang around and wait for hours, I decided to walk on home."

Fair enough I guess. Billy did know how to catch a fish occasionally. I looked at Sally-Mae, odd little thoughts running through my mind. Little things like how was she enjoying married life and what had she learnt? Things like, that shirt has buttons that are too small. Tug the collar apart just right and the buttons would pop open one after the other. I used to have a shirt like it, so I knew first hand. Another little thing that was nagging at me - was she wearing a bra under that shirt? I thought not, not that she needed one.

Before I had consciously decided to find out I had my hands on collar and was pulling gently in opposite directions. I was quite right about those buttons. The top one popped open and the rest followed, one after the other, the shirt gaping wide. I was also right about the no bra. Her breasts might have been small but they were firm and ripe, standing out all creamy with little pink nipples.

"You have quite lovely breasts, Sally-Mae," I said quietly. "A little small, possibly, but perfection comes in small packages at times."

"You great ape," she shrieked, slapping at my hands and trying to draw her shirt back together. "What the hell is the big idea?"

"I wanted to see you," I said simply. "And you are well worth looking at. It's going to be interesting finding out what you have learnt since getting married."

I let the shirt go, preferring to reach out and lightly stroke her breasts. She slapped my hands away, jerking her shirt together and starting to do up the buttons.

"I've learnt not to give men like you an inch," she snapped while buttoning.

Instead of buttoning up she should have been watching what else I was up to. She was still doing up buttons when I snapped open the catch on her shorts. Goodness me, the language she used.

"Knock it off, you jerk," she finished up. "You know I don't play those sort of games. What the hell makes you think I'll sleep with you?"

Her hands darted down to do up her shorts and I promptly took the opportunity to pop open the buttons on her shirt again. Seeing this left her breasts exposed she decided covering them up was more important than doing up her shorts. I caught her wrists and the result was her shirt was hanging open and her shorts were unbuttoned.

"What on earth makes you think I'm asking you to sleep with me?" I asked her, letting her see my amusement as she wriggled about, trying to get her hands free.

"Ha! Undoing my things and saying you want to find out what I've learnt. Sounds like it to me."

"Well, you're mistaken. I was asking no such thing. Why should I bother to ask when I can just help myself?"

With that I let go her hands, took her shirt, and jerked it down her arms to her elbows, effectively pinning her arms to her side.

"What? You wouldn't dare. That would be rape," she protested.

"Um, yes," I admitted. "I believe some people might call it that."

While speaking I'd latched onto her shorts and pushed them down, taking her panties along for the ride. She still had her clothes on but they sure weren't hiding her charms.

"Billy would kill you," she said, sounding slightly shocked.

"Oh, I doubt it. For a start he's scared shitless of me and also you'd have to tell him what happened. I don't think you'll do that."

"Come," I said, tugging downward on her arm. "I want you on your hands and knees."

"The hell with that. I'm not doing anything you want."

"You will. You can't stop me so you might as well do as I say. Behave yourself and I promise not to hurt you. If you're good I may not even have sex with you, just touch you up a bit. Now kneel."

Fuming she went down onto her knees, and then on to hands and knees with just a little persuasion.

"Rest you head on your forearms," I murmured. "You'll feel more comfortable."

I ran my hand over her bottom, following the curve until I cupped her mound. With my hand nicely in place I gently rubbed her, stroking her pudenda, slowly working at getting her aroused.

"Ah, Sally-Mae, if you don't want your bottom smacked you might like to stop the swearing. I'm a sensitive soul and being called an unmitigated bastard and lowlife is hurtful."

I lightly patted her bottom to indicate I wasn't kidding, hand sliding back to continue the massage when she subsided. I was also reaching under her and rubbing her breasts. What is it they say? Any more than a handful is wasted. Sally-Mae's breasts fitted my hand very neatly with no wastage, and I truly appreciated them.

I continued the pussy massage, my fingers making the occasional foray between her lips, dipping inside to test the waters. She was hot and wet and tight. Well, hot and slightly damp and tight.

"Don't let this worry you," I said softly, as I spread her lips a little. "I'm not going to take you right now. I'm just getting a feel for you."

I had managed to undo my trousers and let the snake loose and it was rearing its head, looking for action. I just pressed lightly against the space I'd created, letting her lips close over me.

"What the fuck is that?" came the horrified demand.

"Relax. It's just the head of my cock pressing against you. I said I wasn't going in just yet."

She was squirming about, not really trying to pull away, but definitely not trying to push herself onto me. It was quite exhilarating feeling her polishing my knob.

"What," she demanded, "do you mean, just the head pressing against me? It feels a damn sight more than that from where I am."

"Like I said, just the head, but if you keep on doing what you're doing you're going to set it off before very much longer. That's quite a stunt you're pulling."

She froze at that, just holding still. I let myself just lean against her, feeling her heat. I could also feel her softening just where my cock was pressing, tacitly inviting me deeper. I should be clear here. Her passage was ready to yield, not Sally-Mae.

I tested my hypothesis. I pushed, not too hard, and found myself sliding slightly deeper, her passage happily parting, clinging to me as I moved that little deeper. Sally-Mae wasn't quite so happy about it.

"What are you doing? You said you weren't going to put it right in."

"I haven't. That wasn't my fault. You must have pressed back against me."

From the sound of her indignant spluttering she wasn't buying that. That was OK. While she was spluttering I pushed a little deeper.

"Enough. That's it. You take that damn thing out. No more, you understand?"

"Stop whining. Anyone would think you were an innocent little virgin. Goodness, I've barely put anything in. See."

A wail of protest but I had gained another inch.

"You might as well relax. I'm going to put the rest of it in."

"And just how much more is there, damn you?"

"Don't know. I've never bothered to measure. Um, this much?"

I was pushing slowly but steadily forward, sinking in deep, her passage stretching and yielding, and clinging. I didn't stop until I was fully inside her, ignoring protests that were coming with increasing fervency.

Then my groin was pressed firmly against her pussy and I slid my hands around her to cup both her breasts.

"There you are," I told her. "That wasn't too bad, was it?"

She didn't say anything, just crouched there, quivering slightly. It also seemed to me that she was breathing a lot harder than she had been.

"Alright," she said carefully. "You've shown me what you've got. How about taking it out now and letting me be?"

She had to be kidding.

"Sally-Mae, sweetheart," I murmured. "How about you just relax and move with me. We'll take it nice and slow for a while."

I pulled back, moving slowly and easily, her passage clinging to me as I moved. Then I was pushing back in, stopping after a second.

"Listen, girl, move with me. If you do that you'll find it will all finish a lot faster."

With that I resumed driving home, finding Sally-Mae pushing back to meet me. I set up a nice little rhythm, driving in firmly, pulling back and pausing, and then driving home yet again. Sally-Mae was with me, moving steadily, taking me deep inside her. I could hear her gasping a little as we moved.

I kept it up for a while, enjoying the feel of her, enjoying the fact that she was liking what was happening despite herself.

When I increased my speed she moved with me. She was starting to make little sounds of eagerness now, and I felt like doing the same. I kept it up, driving in harder and harder, with her bucking beneath me, doing her part. From the sound of it she sounded as though she was going to move into climax territory very shortly.

So I backed off, slowing down just that little bit, then that little bit more. She was still excited but was no longer in danger of climaxing. I could hear a note of frustration creeping into the noises she was making.

I remained at that slightly slower speed for a while, feeling a bit of restlessness in her movements but ignoring it. If she wanted me to move faster she could ask, but I doubted that she would.

When I did get back to establishing a faster tempo Sally-Mae was pushing eagerly to match it. Hands holding her breasts firmly I was driving home forcefully, the sounds of our coming together making moist slapping sounds. Sally-Mae's gasped and yips of excitement were becoming louder and higher pitched, and her frustration when I slowed down a second time was almost tangible.

"What the fuck are you playing at?" she demanded. "I thought you said you were going to finish it quickly."

"I am. But it would be totally unfair to you to finish before you're ready. Just give me the word when you want me to finish things of and I'll do my best."

"Are you kidding? This is rape. I'm not telling you anything."

"I know it's rape. I'm the rapist, remember, but I'm just a rapist. I'm not a mind-reader. How do I know if you want me to finish unless you tell me? Um, do you want me to just stop? I'm quite enjoying this."

There was a conundrum for her. If she said yes and I did she'd be kicking herself for the rest of the day. There was also no way she could say no. She fell back on the standby.

"I'm not telling you anything," she said, or rather, managed to pant out. I was moving faster again and her expectations were building nicely.

Now she was right where I wanted her, on the verge of a climax and dreading the thought I might stop it again.

"Would you like me to slow down a little?" I asked politely, hearing her whimper slightly in reply. "I'll take that as a no."

With that I managed to increase my speed a little, driving in hard. My assessment was spot on where she was concerned. A couple of hard thrusts and she climaxed, shaking hard, hand stuffed into her mouth to stop a scream. I was also letting loose, a jet of seed splashing deep into her, frantic jerks on my part releasing everything I'd built up, feeling her passage putting my cock through the wringer as she squeezed out every last drop.

I disengaged and watched Sally-Mae as she got herself back together. She finally got her clothes sorted out and then glared at me, but her heart wasn't in it.

"If I tell Billy what you did he'll kill you," she muttered, not sounding totally sure of herself.

"If I tell Billy how much you enjoyed it he'll kill you," I pointed out. "Perhaps it might be better if we both keep our mouths shut and pretend it never happened."

She wanted to deny she'd liked what had happened but we both knew that if she did she'd be lying. She contented herself with a humph sound and stalked past me, nose in the air.

"Ah, Sally-Mae," I called after her.

"What?" she snapped turning to look at me.

"You were magnificent," I said with heartfelt sincerity.

She blushed and turned away, continuing on her way home, but it seemed to me she was almost skipping along. It would be interesting to see what happened if I met her out and about a second time.