Whopping backside succour!
"Damn it," I said, skidding uncomfortably to a halt by the verge of the unsealed country road, really close to losing my balance.
Up ahead of me, my cousin Michelle turned her head and doubled back quickly.
"Jill, Jill! Are you okay?" she said.
"Yeah, I'm fine, but the front wheel is flat and stuffed."
"Oh, it's bad; sorry, I know that bike was a bit old."
"No repair stuff with you?"
I was asking in hope rather than for reassurance.
We were doing the quaint, tranquil back roads, just enjoying our summer break. Apart from some bottled water, I knew we had nothing else.
"No, sweetie, you'll have to wait; I'll ride back to the shack and bring back the Ute; you find some shade and wait. I'll be as quick as I can."
I found some welcome shade, and Michelle was off at a good pace, really getting her cute butt bouncing on the bike seat and her fit thighs scooting along. She cared.
I sipped water. She would be at least forty-five minutes from where we were, she had said.
I had yet to learn where we were.
I was reduced to making a daisy chain to pass the time. It was hot. I was thankful for the shade and equally grateful for my skimpy pink top and shorts, which kept me from overheating.
About ten minutes passed, and I saw a big old farm truck.
I heard it before I saw it.
Clunky and weatherbeaten!
My rescuer was likely a geriatric, but I didn't care. He could give me a lift back to the coastal shacks and take Michelle's bike. Maybe we would catch her along the road!
The truck wasn't moving fast. It stopped up the road from me. Luckily, not too much dust was swirling. There was no breeze.
I saw the guy come around the front of the truck. I don't know what they fed country boys, but he was strapping and ripped.
Mr January all rolled into one. Tight faded jeans, a big leather belt, boots, a tight blue work T-shirt and three days stubble.
"You obviously need assistance," he said, cocky and assured.
Not the — Can I help you?'
Oh, I wanted assistance, alright, and bugger the bike.
Summer sex chemistry was exuding from both of us.
"Yes, will you take a look," I may have meant the bike, but I liked the ambiguity; he could check me out in detail, too.
The bold, swaggering hotshot was in my personal space, holding my face, "No, I can't see any damage," he said.
I liked his unblushing, spunky, direct approach.
"I'm sure you can cause some!"
He liked my sassy, assured playfulness.
Plus, I rubbed his crotch.
Without introductions, we were pashing. Steamy, saucy, face-fucking!
Suddenly, we were feeling for sexually aroused bits.
The day went from hot to searing!
We were both frisky and openly venturesome by the side of the road. His hand was under my sports bra, and my hand was inside his pants, releasing his whopper cock into the sunlight.
I couldn't see his pecker in our tongues binary joy. But boy, I was aware of its size.
And it was getting bigger as I worked it up with my hand.
Jerking!
Flipping!
Tugging!
Flicking!
Yanking!
Making it stretch, stiffen and strain.
He wanted my top off — Mmm — I obliged.
He wanted my bra off —Haah! — I indulged him.
He wanted my shorts off — Ooh! — I filled the bill.
He wanted my skimpy knickers off — Ahh! — I let him assist me.
Suddenly, his tongue spun in my navel! Delicious, yum and titillating! I felt the warmth of the day on my naked body. I had never felt so good in my birthday suit.
His hands manipulated my skin through his fingers.
Rubbing and massaging — my ears, nape and butt cheeks.
Fondling and seducing — my boobs with mouth-watering scrummy lips.
Caressing and then clutching — my hips. A he-man red-blooded grip!
Squeezing, stroking and petting — my girly-girl private amusement park!
"Ooh, yes! Aah, yes! Mmmhhh!"
My nipples taut.
My slit leaking copious juices.
His fingers fine-tuned my pussy as a willing receptacle for his cock.
It was simple for him to get me down on my fours — my arsehole, squirming and quivering, seeking his tongue.
His tongue tip wooed my arse crack. He dallied with spit at my rim. He coaxed my rills with his prodding. Charmed my patootie with a slather of saliva and enchanted pleasure out of my ring.
He licked and rimmed my butthole perfectly. Then his finger moulded into my tight, puckering starfish. Delightful anal fingering, combining sumptuous pressing, crafted pushes and dirty twists in my tight tushie.
"Mmm, that is soo- soo good! Mmm, mmm, mmm!"
He dogged me.
"Auugh! Auugh!" I mouthed with each inward and outward tug.
I sensed he was having the lot — and I knew my arse was the main course. He steered his huge pecker deeper into my demanding womanhood.
So filling.
As he probed deeper, I gasped, and then as he thrust in and out, I nearly swooned in unreal pleasure.
"Hngh! Hngh! Hngh!"
God, he was big inside me. I wondered at my pussy's stretch and grip in holding his huge cock.
Stunning penetration.
Great pussy reconnaissance by cock.
So fat. So strong. So stiff.
Sizzling summer sex.
His schlong was glistening with my femjuices when he offered it to my hungry mouth.
He knew I had to taste and suck it, but he was giving me my girly juicy to taste as well.
I did the lip-smacking and whole gob slobber along his colossal pecker.
It had to be nine, though I'm no judge. I'd never had this size before.
He edged his cock deeper into my mouth.
Easing it further in with each suck-off.
My mouth was stuffed and plugged.
Close to gagging. But I gave it my best shot. His giant cock deserved it. He was wedged in my cheek.
He was crushing the back of my throat.
Still, I gobbled, guzzled and gorged on his stiff meat and luxuriated in twisting my tongue around his sensitive bulbous cock knob.
The country hunk called the shots and urged me against a tree, instructing me to hold it tight and spread my legs.
God, did I need to hold the tree!
My arse nearly burst with his knob teasing at my rim and entering an inch or two.
"Oof! Raah! Aah! Auugh!"
I was frickin impaled. In the insane happy maximum damage range!
"Orrgh, Oh my God, yes, OrRGH," and then panting — weaning— wincey yelps — as my arse was poked and stabbed.
"Orrgh! Aargh! Auughh!"
Then I got the smashing slamming big dong anal thrusts.
The ones you dream about but think you'll never get.
"Fuck! Ooh, hell! Ooh, yes! Bugger me! Ooh! Auughh! Auughh!"
Well, I got them.
I held onto the tree for dear life as my tight arsehole was ransacked, flesh scooped out, and was gouged, dredged and pounded.
My arse felt like a raw gash but so bliss filled at the same time.
It was like he was furrowing a canal with his cock through my entire body. Yet my tight arsehole encompassed, encircled his pecker, kept wanting it to give me more as I felt I would rupture or frickin split open.
I marvelled at his massive cock in me and my expansive arsehole finding space for him.
I was swaying, rocking about, trying to move my arse back with his cock, forward with his plunges.
I clawed the tree.
My head tossed about wildly — caught in the compelling compulsion of joy released.
Hard, hard cock work, making my body demand a deeper orgasm than usual.
My sexual release cascading through me was absolute, as my arse had its innards assaulted flawlessly.
My climax was body and arse liberating.
My buggered back passage deserving of the massive jolting cream filling.
"Hngh! Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!"
He was Jack.
I was Jill.
On the pill!
There was no hill.
There was a tree, a busted bike and a sore but happy, buggered bum.
By the time Michelle returned in her Ute, Jack and I were sitting under the tree, sharing some handy cold alcoholic cider stubbies he had in the cooler at the back of his truck.
Michelle gave me — the look.
I suppose it was my tousled hair or that impossible to hide — I've been shagged and buggerised senseless— smile.
My cousin liked Jack's look, too.
The suave cocky sod offered her a cider.
I was thankful for long, hot summer days and evenings because I knew Michelle and I would be more than kissing cousins after a drink or two.
We all clinked stubbies and drank a long draught.
Michelle had brought back some strawberries and watermelon.
The bitch was munching on the melon, letting it dribble, making her lips so wet and her mouth so seductive for Jack.
Jack didn't need a hint.
He fed us both strawberries — with his mouth.
Making us share.
A trio of lips meeting lustfully.
Boy, was Michelle in for a cock surprise.
And man, oh man, I was ready for more bodily assistance, too.
A cock the size Jack was packin' shouldn't remain out of service for longer than is necessary.