I wanted to share an excerpt from an emerging new erotica author Tracey DeSanto. Enjoy! -anniebear
The sun had not peered over the ridge, but the morning sky already glowed indigo in anticipation of the dawn. Henry couldn’t think straight. He loped distractedly towards the stables to begin his work, worried for his soul.
Since he had found his position at Master Brown’s ranch his thoughts ran more and more towards sin. Henry absent-mindedly adjusted himself, allowing his hand to linger a moment longer than was necessary. Was it his fault that Master Brown had so many wives? It was all but impossible to think pure thoughts.
Henry’s parents were neither wealthy nor influential. He would never have his choice of wives. No. Henry would remain the hired hand. He’d be mucking out the stalls and grooming Master Brown’s horses while the Old Man availed himself of whichever wife took his fancy that particular fine morning. Perhaps it would be Abigail, with her broad bottom. Maybe today Master Jeremiah Brown would be enjoying congress with that skinny, young one: Charity. There was always a chance that the old man was mounting Josephine. She was the senior wife, with sharp glances and raven-dark hair, shot with silver. Henry, feeling damned to Hell, imagined the hair of Josephine’s nether regions as a similarly contrasting mound of jet-black against snowy white. A smile of yearning played across his full, boyish lips. Henry’s mind wandered as he considered what Josephine and the sister wives might get up to together when the Master was busy in town. A mental image of jumbled female nudity stampeded into his mind’s eye and his trousers felt suddenly awkward.
Henry was often agitated in this way. His mind raced along many frustrating paths as he imagined discarding his confounded virginity by putting his cock into a woman. He longed for little else.
And he was late. This morning he had to groom and harness the team for the Master’s journey into town for the Elder’s meeting. He quickened his step as he passed the doors of the dairy barn. From within he heard a tuneless humming.
Henry stopped and silently peered through the window next to the barn doors. It was Gertrude. She had finished milking the cows and was churning the cream into butter. That girl was cut from a different cloth. The family considered her to be slow, but Henry noticed her active gaze didn’t seem to miss much. When she was nearby, he pretended to ignore her chatter and laughter. At twenty-one she was only two years older than him, but she seemed very adult in his eyes. It was rumoured that she had been sinful and was damned. It was clear she would never be chosen as any man’s wife. Master Brown had taken her on as a dairymaid and supplied her with food, letting her sleep in the barn. Gertrude was a strapping woman, healthy and flushed, with slight smile lines falling into place above her pink cheeks when she broke a grin. She was like a force of nature with frizzy hair and callused hands. Watching secretly through the window,
Henry found his eyes drawn to the rhythmic shift of her breasts as she worked, pulling the churn handle up and down. Gertrude’s dress was accommodating, but it was barely up to the task of containing such an ample bosom. The grey cotton pulled tightly. Even through its thickness Henry could perceive her nipples. Daring to spy no more, he left quietly.
Upon arriving at the stables Henry closed the door behind him and got to work. He mucked out the stalls, admiring the clean line and muscular flanks of the two mares that Master Brown reserved for his own use. Henry then walked the length of the stables and entered the tack-room at the far end, looking for the harness and bridles. This was a pleasant part of his duties. He enjoyed the clean smell of strong, supple leather. Startled, he realized that he was not alone. In the half light there were two figures looking at him.
Abigail and Josephine were there, garments askew. Abigail’s face was streaked with tears. Josephine held a riding crop. Eyes blazing, she barked, “Foolish boy! Shut the door!” As Henry obeyed he noticed a thin film of sweat on her forehead. Her long black hair was plaited down her back, mingled with silver streaks throughout. Although at least twenty years his senior, she was lithe, athletic and handsome. “Abigail, Henry has misbehaved. Why don’t you show him what happens to bad children?”
Abigail’s copper tresses framed a youthful face that still had just a touch of baby fat. Licking her lips and looking at the floor, she slowly turned, bent forward, and pulled up her skirts. As she revealed the curve of her broad, creamy-white buttocks, Henry could clearly see several red welts crossing the glorious expanse of her ass. “As you wish, ma’am.” she murmured.
“Oh, you know what I wish.” the older woman growled, “Now get to it.” Abigail immediately got on her knees and began to raise Josephine’s skirts. Henry quavered in arousal and stunned disbelief as the senior wife held his gaze. “Pay attention, boy. Learn well and you may just keep your place here.” As Josephine leaned against a bench and arched her back, the younger woman’s head began to move between her legs. Henry could only watch her smile and moan, as she never once released him from her gaze. “That’s a good start, girl. There’s hope for you yet. Now go stand in the corner!” Abigail complied.
Henry looked down. The woman was exposed from her belly to her toes. Her stomach was lean and rippled with muscle. Her legs were long and toned. Henry stared at her private parts, no longer private in the least. There was the wide triangular patch of hair he had imagined, black as pitch but for a strip of silver through the centre. At the bottom of the inverted triangle her hair was glistening with Abigail’s saliva. “Henry, I believe I need you to service me.”
As if in a dream, Henry dropped to the floor and gently kissed the woman’s cleft. She tasted sweet and salty at the same time. As he explored this new territory with his tongue, he was surprised to feel how soft, moist and yielding her flesh was, nothing at all like the rest of Josephine. His tongue probed along the edges of her labia and she moaned. Henry felt the sting of the riding crop across his shoulders. “Keep at it, you little bastard.” Josephine growled. Henry’s tongue felt something hard and resistant beneath it. As he applied pressure to this tight nub of flesh, he felt Josephine shudder and was rewarded with another smack of the horsewhip.
He glanced up from his task, expecting to endure a withering glare from the older woman. Instead he realized that Abigail had joined them. She was standing to the side and above him, roughly grabbing at the woman’s small, hard breasts and kissing her open-mouthed, like a wanton. The younger woman’s skirts were hiked up and Josephine had a quick and eager hand between the girl’s plump thighs, jabbing and thrusting. The musk of womanly sex was thick in
the room. Henry felt dizzy with sick, sinful desire. He felt the crop, again, lash across his shoulders.
Henry tongued hard against Josephine’s clitoris. Reaching up, he grabbed her hips and pulled her towards him. He sank his tongue deep within her, then he withdrew, flicked the tip against her and tongued her clit again. Above his head he heard Abigail and Josephine keen in pleasure together. He licked quickly and gently, sensing a tensing in the older woman’s muscles. His face was wet from the juice of her cunt. Josephine clamped her legs around his head and climaxed, making deep, loud, animal noises.
Henry staggered to his feet. He felt as if he would explode. The boy’s penis was engorged, pushing painfully against his trousers. He clawed at the buttons of his overall straps, anticipating sweet, sinful release. He’d go to hell, but at least, today, he’d be sated. “Oh, no… foolish boy.” the Senior Wife said, “Put that away immediately.” Henry was told to get back to work. He was told that if he spoke a word of any of this to anyone, he’d never be employed in the community again. Abigail shot him a rueful smile as she and Josephine adjusted their garments and quickly departed. Henry numbly gathered the harness for the buggy and went back to the stables. With a gentle creak the stable doors swung open. The bright sunlight of a fine morning streamed into the room. Henry was surprised to be looking into
the friendly, chiseled face of Master Brown.
About the author: I am a happy new author of unusual erotica. My intention is to write stories that are friendly, appealing, and hot for women, men, singles and couples (with a variety of orientations). Some might say that I have a dirty mind. Having spent my life enjoying genre fiction and nerdy pursuits, I intend to visit as many of my favourite realms as I can… and “have sex” in them, so to speak. I want to create sex-positive entertainment for like-minded individuals.
I do not live in New England with two cats… but I just might live in Canada with a big, goofy dog.