(for Ninsbijou)
A June sun beat down mercilessly from a cloudless Kentucky sky as thirty-five-year old Cassie Wilson clambered into her dad's old Ford truck. The heat had remained unbroken for four long days burning the very oxygen from the air. As she had showered and dressed that morning, Cassie had looked out into the relentless heat and dispensed with the niceties of undergarments. Ready to go into town to pick up much needed supplies, she wore only her riding boots, socks, beige riding pants, and a crisp white blouse. Taller than average, with a well proportioned face that carried green eyes and full lips. Her hair was blond and reached the middle of strong shoulders. Inside the blouse full, firm breasts gave her profile a most pleasing aspect above an almost flat stomach and concave waist. Her hips and thighs were strong from all the years spent around horses, and her tall frame was supported by equally strong calves.
Cassie had only been back in Kentucky for three months. She had closed her equine veterinarian's office in Georgia and returned to her home near Pleasureville as soon as she had received news of her father's stroke. Cassie had never married, her time consumed by college and the equine veterinarian career she had picked out at an early age. Fortunately, George Wilson's stroke had been minor, but still enough to limit his ability to perform his duties as head trainer to the sixteen horses placed in his care by Harlan Jones. So, Cassie had come, and was, to all intents and purposes, running the stables and living with her father in the large , but old, house that came with the head trainer's position.
Cassie started the old stick-shift Ford and pointed it toward KY- 43 and Shelbyville. The air conditioning had gone out on the old truck a long time back and as Cassie rolled down the manual windows on each side of the cab she made a mental note to trade her car for a vehicle better suited for hauling ranch supplies. The trip to town was about twenty-five minutes, and by the time that Cassie climbed out of the truck at Jackson's Feed and Supply Store the sun had turned the cab into a steam oven. Cassie became aware of the new transparency of her white blouse, the darkened patch between her full breasts, and the rivulet of perspiration slowly running down her spine into the light caramel riding pants and the crevice between the firm, rounded cheeks of her rear. She entered the feed store thinking, thankfully, that this store similarly to many others like it was dimly lit.
"Pops" Jackson greeted her as she entered and she acknowledged him. He was fast headed towards seventy years old and had been at the store when his father had opened it. Apart from the low neon lighting, electrical outlets allowing demonstration of power tools, and fancier registers little had changed in the store since "Pops'" pop had opened the place after the first World War.
Cassie wandered through the barn of a store making sure that what she needed for the ranch was available and loaded sacks of grain, feed and grooming supplies onto a flat bed cart. Some of the stuff was available from stacks outside the store but Cassie was grateful for the cooler air provided inside by several whirring fans. As she neared the back of the store, and the end of her list, Cassie became aware that someone had entered and listened to the voices.
The three young men chattered away to each other then stopped at the counter. Cassie heard one of the men speaking to Pops.
"Pull this order together, old man, and I'll be back in the morning to get it."
The request was disdainful and demeaning. Cassie immediately knew who the speaker was. This was the voice of Dyson Jones, familiarly known as "Dice", son of Harlan, her dad's boss, and to Cassie's mind the most reprehensible character in Kentucky. The odds are then, Cassie thought that the other two voices belonged to the Williams brothers, Steve and Josh. The trio were rarely seen apart. Cassie had already encountered the surly Harlan Jones and his arrogant son, Dyson up at the training stables and had taken an instant dislike to the pair of them. She hoped the young men left, and went on to load the last of her supplies.
Dice Jones was 23, tall, strong and handsome. He had played volleyball at The University of Kentucky while garnering a degree in equine management. Were it not for his obnoxious personality his social circle would perhaps of been much wider. He stood five feet eleven inches tall and weighed in right at two hundred pounds. His oval face was set with piercing blue eyes and was topped with a golden flash of blond hair. His failing, and that of his father's was that he was used to getting his way. Straight out of college to the position of stable manager for his father's string had taught him nothing of social form or courtesy. He looked down on everyone except his father. He had been a spoiled kid, and was now an arrogant and self obsessed man.
The trio of men did not leave. They too appreciated the cooler air inside, and wandered through the store talking about weekend plans and horses that would be racing on the downs.
As they reached the back of the store Dice cracked, "Now there's something you don't see everyday!"
The Williams brothers laughed dutifully, and Cassie rose from her bent position and turned to face them. Her face was flushed now, from a little embarrassment and a lot of anger. Dice was not wavered by the Cassie's icy glare.
"Not often you see a Kentucky moon during a June day!"
Again, the Williams brothers laughed.
Cassie pursed her lips, then spoke. "Your fifth grade humor is not funny, Dice, it is low and disgusting! If I thought that talking to your father would do any good I would tell him right now!"
The young men snickered angering Cassie further. She huffed, her breasts heaved, and she saw all three boys stare unashamedly at her chest. She was sure that even in the dim light they could see the areolae through the cotton, the protrusion of the nipples in the sweat dampened garment. Cassie gripped the handle to the supply cart with both hands and pushed it down the aisle towards the young men. They stepped aside and Cassie felt the incident was over. As she passed she felt them brush her with their hands. A palm grazed her nipple, another hand actually squeezed her breast on the other side, and rudely, she felt fingertips push at her vagina from behind as she turned toward the front of the feed store. It was hot. She was hot. She knew that the crotch of her riding pants was damp with sweat.
As she retreated to the door she heard Dice's voice again.
"Smell that!"
Cassie angrily loaded the truck and headed for home. She fumed at herself all the way over the humiliating groping.
Cassie stored the supplies, then went into the house and prepared to shower. She pulled the boots and socks from her feet, unbuttoned the wet white blouse and slipped it from her shoulders, and slid the tight riding pants down her legs. The crotch clung momentarily to her sex as she lowered the garment to the floor. Cassie entered her bathroom, turned on the shower and stepped into the warm, yet cooling, cascade of water. As she showered her mind ran over the day's events. She guided the shower wand with the adjustable head over her body rinsing away the soap. The warm jets hit her breasts, her nipples, and her mind recalled the rude, unwanted caress and squeeze her breasts had received in the feed store. She moved the wand down her firm full body, down over her belly, her pelvis, down to her shaved pubis. Almost absently she turned the dial on the shower head till the stream of water was one solid jet and held it steady. The warm, stimulating jet pounded against her clitoris, and her head went to the pressure of fingertips on her damp crotch in the store. Cassie lost herself in the exciting pulsations of the water on her clit. Felt herself become aroused as it reacted to the constant caress of the warm, wet stream. Her breath became shorter, her inner muscles contracted as her body luxuriated in the stimulus. Her mind was not on the rude gropings of arrogant men now.. It was nowhere. The sensations she was feeling were all encompassing. Cassie gasped as she came , panting and feeling herself flex, the warm juices excreting from her warm, wet pussy, the water jet pushing them down her inner thighs, cleansing her.
Cassie dressed in a new clean outfit, though it was the same as she had previously worn. She wore the same thing all the time, almost as a uniform of position at the stables, but also for convenience, as some of the stable's income was derived from the riding lessons she gave to local children. Cassie looked the part.
Down in the kitchen Cassie went to the refrigerator and retrieved the ingredients for a salad, shaved some chicken and added it to the fresh vegetables. She grabbed a cold white wine cooler, settled in the swing chair on the porch to eat, and watched the sun finally sink toward the horizon of the Kentucky sky. Cassie felt good after her shower, but was bothered. Was it the shower or the crude touchings of the 3 men that had aroused her? At the time she had felt disgusted and degraded. It was, she thought, a long time since anyone but herself had touched her intimately. She pushed the possibility of being aroused by the lecherous contact from her mind, finished her salad and watched the sky turn to the gentle blue-gray of dusk.
Cassie's Father's stroke had made him tired, and although he managed to conduct the paperwork side of the business he was not seen in the stables as much. This night he had turned in early again.
Cassie raised herself from the porch swing, took the dishes in and attended to them, then headed to the stables. She drew the bay mare from the second stall and saddled her, mounted up and headed out for an evening ride before the Kentucky night fell. Cassie rode out from the stables enjoying the cool evening air and followed the path along the woods to the small lake about a mile away that had long been a fishing and swimming hole used by the locals. She dismounted at a small, rocky cove that was all but hidden by the edge of the woods, and tied the mare. Then, she walked a short distance through the trees and sat on the rocks and watched the moon rise slowly over the lake. A slight breeze picked up, and Cassie hoped it would portend a cooler day tomorrow. The water looked cool and inviting. Cassie looked around her and seeing and hearing nobody in the vicinity decided to swim. She removed her boots and socks, unbuttoned the white blouse and slid it from her shoulders. The air felt good on her body, the coolness of the breeze caressing her nipples. She slid the riding pants down over the full curve of her ass and let them slide down her legs to the ground. She stepped forward and kicked the pants into the pile of her other clothing. Cassie stood on the rocks for a moment, the pale light of dusk highlighting her form against the dark tree-line. She was a silhouette negative, light against dark, her full, firm breasts proud upon her chest, the areolae darker, and darker yet, the nipple buds now semi-erect in the cool night air. Her flat belly descended to her shaved mons, her labia smooth and soft curving down and under her. Looking around once more and being certain nobody was near, she walked down the rocks and, naked, entered the cool water. Cassie shivered as the water engulfed her body, but she soon acclimatized and began to swim lazily in the lake. Now and again she would roll to her back, float, and watch as the stars appeared above her.
Eighty feet away, behind the tree-line, across the cove, a tall rider quietly dismounted from his horse and watched Cassie. His lascivious eyes straining to make out more than just her female form. Slowly and silently he made his way on foot along the trees until he reached the rocky outcrop. Cassie was unaware of his presence. The watcher could see more clearly now catching glimpses of white flesh flashing in the dark water of the lake. An arm stroking outward, firm buttocks rising above the waterline, and when Cassie chose to relax and float, the clear mounds of her breasts moving gently with the water. He gazed at the exquisite female form transfixed on her every movement. In his Wrangler jeans the stirrings of sexual arousal, as his cock hardened. He too wondered if anyone was near, and glanced around. It was then that he noticed the small pile of clothing upon the rocks. A plan to get an even closer look at the beauteous female in the lake formed in his head and he crouched down, looked around once more, then half crawled, half scampered across the rocks to the pile of garments, gathered them up and scurried back to the edge of the trees. Once there he cursorily examined the clothing depositing each item on the ground after looking at it. He smiled a wicked smile, identifying for certain that the body that had captured his gaze belonged to Cassie Wilson.
As the evening sky grew darker and more stars became visible, Cassie surmised that she had better be heading for home and stroked lazily toward the shore. She felt the water become shallow under her, planted her feet on the lake bottom and trod carefully toward the rocks in the cove. As she reached the beach, her wet nakedness now lit by a higher moon rising behind her, Cassie saw that her clothing was gone. She ran to the spot where she had left them and looked about her. An expression of frustration and helplessness came upon her face. Cassie walked back and forth across the rocks her wet, naked body glistening in the moonlight. Confused and a little embarrassed, she walked back to the spot she was sure she had left her apparel.
