He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. Nearly a week had passed since that golden afternoon when he’d walked into Samantha’s cozy
bedroom and found her masturbating. And now that he was aware of it, he realized that she must be sneaking into his room almost every day to
read his magazines, because they were never in exactly the same position twice.
Not only mature enough to be curious about sex, but she had one helluva strong sex drive!
He hadn’t heard the Pulser buzz again. But he knew damned well that she was using it. There was a glow about her that he hadn’t seen on a
woman since…well, since Maria had died. A sleek, sated glow that said ‘I’m having sex, and enjoying it.’
She hadn’t been with a boy yet, but how long would that last? Now that she’d discovered that touching herself was pleasurable, how much
longer would she be able to resist?
The local boys were all immature idiots if they couldn’t see how outrageously sexy she was. But…she was also outgoing and confident, and
that probably scared the hell out of them.
Good! No one was good enough for his Sam, and if he caught any boy sniffing around her, he’d probably rip his dick off and stuff it down his
Better start with your own.
He glanced down at the painful tent jutting up in his worn jeans, and winced. Yeah, he was more guilty than any of those scrawny teenagers
could possibly be!
Was it just his imagination, or had she been subtly teasing him these past few days?
Had she always worn her faded work shirts that tight? Were her shorts just a little shorter than they had been before? Was she wearing
perfume? Or had he just never really noticed her subtle provocative scent before?
Face it, Byron old boy, you’re in bad shape.
Her shape was gorgeous! Why hadn’t he realized that her legs had grown long and slender, and her breasts had sprouted into lush mounds that
made his fingers itch?
She was probably running her fingers over them right now, and making her little nipples rise into hard, sensitive nubs. And the Pulser was
gliding between her soft thighs with a soft, wet sound…
He moaned in agony.
He wanted to be the one plunging into her, and thrusting hard and fast until she screamed in ecstasy!
It was wrong, wicked, evil!
And somehow inevitable.
He should be out in the field, checking on the fast-growing corn. Instead, his fast-growing cock was taking control, and forcibly dragging
him back toward the big sprawling farmhouse.
The kitchen was shady and cool. He detoured to the fridge long enough to knock back a cold glass of lemonade. But this was one heat that
couldn’t be cooled quite so easily. His knees began to shake as he climbed the stairs, automatically avoiding the step that creaked.
Sam’s room was empty. He knew it even before he quietly pushed the door open.
And he knew exactly where he’d find her.
Very, very slowly he cracked open his own door, and peered in. His heart took one convulsive leap in his chest, then tried to batter its way
right through his lean ribs.
Sam was lying on his bed, holding one of his raunchiest magazines in one hand and stroking her bare pussy with the other. The rapt look on
her face, as her slender hips moved and she sucked in deep panting breaths, nearly broke him.
“Sam.” In one quick movement, he threw the door open so hard that it banged against the wall. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
She yelped, and scrambled for her discarded clothes. “Daddy! You’re supposed to be out in the field!”