Chapter 5
The journey had been exciting, but much too long. If Carla were to ever take this trip again, she'd demand that her parents send her by jet instead of by Greyhound. She had managed to see much by bus that she would never have seen by plane, but cramped seats and constant stops were beginning to make her nervous.
She wondered if she was getting claustrophobia. Her consolation was that she was finally in Montana, and that within four hours she'd be met at the bus depot by her aunt and uncle and cousins.
As the bus cruised along the highway, Carla looked out over endless green and yellow fields that appeared to end abruptly in the distance where ominous gray mountains, their jagged tops capped with snow, rose up suddenly out of the earth. She wondered if that's where the Thompson family lived-up there in those mountains. Her mother had never really explained to her exactly where Aunt Brenda Thompson and her family lived, just that they lived on a ranch about twenty miles from a small cowboy town.
Carla wondered what they all looked like. There was Aunt Brenda, her mother's sister, who probably looked like her mother, but a few years older. Then there was Uncle Fred, Aunt Brenda's husband, who probably looked like a slightly older version of her father, and who probably talked in a kind of cowboy drawl. And then there were her cousins. There was a little one, just a kid, Matthew. Matty they called him. He'd undoubtedly be sheepish and shy during her visit, she being a sophistocated city woman. He'd be even shier than Robert. Matthew would probably hide behind his mother's skirts most of the time, peering out at Carla with awe.
Aunt Brenda's skirts. She undoubtedly wore her skirts down to her ankles like a proper country woman.
Then there was Cousin Scott. He probably spoke with a drawl like his father, and he'd be blushing and all flustered over her arrival. He'd be quite excited to have her around, seeing that he'd probably never had a girlfriend. He might even give her some trouble, try to get her off behind the barn and try to kiss her or something.
Oh, he'd be horny all right! Carla had read that his age is the peak age for the male sex drive. But she'd handle him. After all, she'd handled Robert time and time again, and Robert was the more sophistocated city boy.
Last of all there was Cousin Jenny. Jenny was her own age. She wondered whether Jenny and herself resembled each other somewhat, seeing that their mothers were sisters. She was dying to meet Jenny. They'd have so much to discuss. Maybe she'd even reveal her relations with Robert to Jenny. Jenny's mouth would hang open with disbelief. But Carla would look nonchalant. "He even tried to shove it into my mouth one day," she'd add for shock effect. And Jenny would almost faint.
Carla smiled to herself with her daydream. The Thompson family would talk about her for months after she left. "That Cousin Carla-" they'd say, •'quite the young lady! So sophistocated!"
The bus pulled up next to a restaurant. They were suddenly in the heart of a tiny one-street town. The streets were deserted.
"Half-hour stop here," announced the driver. •Passengers going on the Butte, change buses here. Your new bus will arrive shortly."
A half-hour stop! Carla wondered whether she'd ever reach her destination. Everybody except fcerself was getting off the bus, and she suddenly felt abandoned. She grabbed her carry-on bag and followed the crowd off the bus.
The day outside the bus was hot. Stepping from the air-conditioned shade of the bus into the blazing sunshine of high-noon was something of a shock. For a few moments, as the sunshine penetrated her body, Carla felt good. She felt as if she were being caressed by a warm hand. But then the sun became oppressive. Carla began to sweat, and she fled into the shade of the restaurant.
In the ladies' room she changed into a pair of light-blue shorts and a white T-shirt. Being all alone and off on her own for the first time in her life, she felt a combination of freedeom and excitement such as she had never felt before, and stepping once more into the toilet stall, she stripped off the shorts and T-shirt she'd just put on.
She smiled to herself. No need for a bra. No need for panties. Not out here. And when she and Jenny got undressed tonight for bed, wouldn't Jenny be shocked. "In the city we don't worry about bras and panties," Carla would say smugly.
Carla pulled off her bra and panties and stood stark naked in the cool air of the John. She was excited. Her pussy oozed juice. A small trickle dribbled down her leg. She rubbed her crotch, tugging at the warm meat of her pussylips with her fingertips. Tingles of pleasure wormed up her cunt. Suddenly she knew she was going to rub off. She just had to rub off. All that jiggling of the bus had gotten her pussylips puffed up and hot. She shoved a finger up her cunt. Mmmm! It felt so good.
"Passengers for Butte, your bus is now loading!" a voice shouted out in the restaurant. The bathroom door opened. "Anybody in here going to Butte? We're ready to leave."
Carla's heart raced. She wasn't going to Butte, but maybe her own bus was leaving without her. She slipped on her shorts and T-shirt, crammed her bra, panties, shoes, and longer clothes into her bag and dashed out of the restroom.
"No bare feet in here, Miss," called the man behind the cash register as she trotted past him.
Oh, fuck you! Carla thought. And she was out the door and back on her bus in seconds. Her bus was empty, so she took a seat toward the back where the driver couldn't see her in his rear-view mirror. She wondered whether she'd be the only passenger for the rest of her journey. She leaned back in her seat and relaxed, glad to have made it back to her bus on time.
She must have dozed off, because suddenly she was opening her eyes, the sound of the bus's motor churning in her ears, her nipples tingling with the feeling of her T-shirt rubbing against them as the bus jiggled. She stretched out her arms and blindly thumped an object on the seat next to her with her fist. The object was firm and somewhat hollow.
"You pack quite a punch, Miss."
Carla jumped, then turned her eyes on the young man reclining in the seat at her left. In her stretching, she'd whopped him in the chest. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I was sleeping." "And right pretty you were," the young man said with a smile. "My name's Luke. And who would you be?"
"Carla," Carla answered. She surveyed the bus. Besides herself, the driver, and this young man beside her, the bus was empty. "Where ya heading?"
"To see my Aunt and her family. The Thompsons. They live on a ranch not too far from here." She spoke automatically, still waking.
"Why sure, I know them. Went to school with Scotty Thompson until I graduated a few weeks ago. Handsome boy, Scotty. And he's got a right pretty ma and sister." He smiled and gazed off into space as if he were reminiscing about old times.
The boy was handsome and so rugged-looking. He wore jeans, checkered red shirt, boots and a cowboy hat. He had snow-white teeth, deep-blue eyes and blond hair to his shoulders. And he had a manly smell of sweat about him that Carla found sweet and stimulating rather than repulsive.
As the youth talked on about his plans now that he'd graduated and spoke of his "old pal" Scotty Thompson as if he loved Scotty more than anyone else in the world, Carla felt his blue eyes moving up and down her bare legs as if they were hot fingertips. She could tell from his breathing that the youth was getting excited, and he kept crossing and uncrossing his legs nervously.
She glanced down at the boy's crotch. The bulge there throbbed. Her pussy tingled. The boy wanted her. Delightful! She drew her legs up to her tits and hugged her knees. Her bare feet rested on the seat. "You got a boyfriend?" the youth asked. "What do you think?" Carla said coquettishly. She pulled her long black hair forward and let it hang over her tits.
"I'll bet you do-a pretty gal like you." He winked.
"I've had my share of boyfriends." She winked back at him.
The boy kicked off his boots and peeled off his socks. His feet were large and sinewy, with wide-spreading toes. He pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them in imitation of Carla. He rested his cheek on his knee and looked at her. "One of your boyfriends ever show you a good time?" he asked.
"Oh, sure. Good times all the time. Movies, football games. You name it." Luke reached over and stroked her cheek with a finger. "Any of those boyfriends ever show you what he's got between his legs? Know what I mean, honey?"
Carla flushed intentionally. "I'm not that kind girl," she said, pushing his hand away from her cheek. What a hand! Big and muscular like his feet.
"Excuse me, Miss Carla," he said, and he looked away, obviously embarrassed.
Carla stifled a giggle. Beautiful! She'd tamed a big, hunky cowboy. This was better than toying with Robert.
After a short silence the boy began talking as if nothing had happened. He told her his life history. And while he talked, Carla toyed with him -stroked his bare feet with her hot toes, accidentally grazed his hand with her fingernails, wound her beautiful hair around her fingers, made little pouting faces, licked her lips and even cooed, but just audibly. By the time they pulled into the next town, she had the youth squirming in his seat as if he were age eight instead of eighteen. And he was panting so much as he talked that he could hardly get the words out.
"Forty-five minute rest stop," the driver shouted back to them as he climbed out of his seat. He eyed them suspiciously.
"Heck!" Carla said. "We spend more time sitting in these towns than we do traveling."
"Wanna go for a walk," the boy asked. He pulled on his boots and adjusted his hat. "This is where I get off, but I'll keep you company till the bus leaves again."
Carla was delighted with the youth's offer. She suddenly regretted that she'd toyed with him so. He was a gentleman despite his little lapse awhile back.
The boy took her for a walk along a river surrounded by cotton wood trees. The sun glared off the slow-moving stream, but Carla and Luke were sheltered from it under the huge cotton-woods. The stream reminded Carla of the river that ran through the woods near her own home in Minnesota. This river too lay at the edge of town. But this-town, unlike her own, consisted of only one street, and the river here was thus only a hundred yards from the center of town. The river was peaceful. Not a soul around.
"Mind if I piss?" Luke asked.
"Go ahead," Carla answered, trying to sound cool. But what she was thinking was, pull that big
Eig out and let me have a look at it! The only k she'd ever seen was Robert's, and she now had a chance to compare Robert's and Luke's.
Luke unzipped his fly, and after a struggle, hauled out not only his cock, but his balls as well. The cock was hard, and Luke let it jut shamelessly op in the air in front of Carla. It was a big cock, looking to be slightly longer than Robert's. But it looked the same as Robert's-blue-veined ivory shaft, fat purple cockhead shaped like a mushroom, big egg-like nuts pulled up in a tight sac below. The cock stuck up at the same forty-five degree angle as Robert's, and it twitched and throbbed just as excitedly. Carla wished Robert was standing alongside Luke so she could closely study and compare their cocks.
Carta's mouth watered at the sight of the big thing. She remembered how hot Robert's cockhead had been when he'd touched it to her lips, and now she longed to feel the touch of Luke's silky hot cockhead and to taste the cum oozing from the tip.
Luke stood there with his hands on his hips. His face looked strained. "Ain't easy to piss with a hard-on," he said. He stared intently at his cockhead as if trying to will the piss out.
Carla watched, fascinated. She'd never seen a guy piss. And the sight of his big hard cock twitching there in the open air was driving her nearly out of her mind. She didn't know why, but she'd never seen anything more captivating than a cock. She could stare at it forever and never lose interest.
Luke's cock gave a little jerk, Luke grunted, and a squirt of piss spurted from his cock and rained down on the dry riverbank. Then a few more spurts followed. And finally, a long stream of piss arced high in the air as if shooting from a fountain and hosed down the riverbank five feet away from Luke's feet. Luke sighed as the piss hissed out of his cock.
"Ahhhhhhh! Just what I needed. Nothing like a good piss!" he said.
Carla had all she could do to keep from wrapping her fingers around the youth's cock as he pissed. She wondered how the cock felt, wondered what kind of zinging vibrations were passing through it as the piss shot out. Her own pussy throbbed. Just the nearness of the youth's cock was driving it crazy.
Luke stopped pissing and milked his cock a few times to clear out the pisstube. Then he shook it. A few drops of piss flew through the air. He put his hands on his hips and looked down at his cock. It was just as big and hard and vertical as ever. His nuts, squeezed tight by the constriction of his fly, made his sac look like a balloon ready to burst.
He took hold of his cock. "Well, I guess I ought to put this thing away-if I can get it back inside my pants in this condition." He glanced at Carla then began trying to stuff his hard cock and swollen nuts back into his pants.
Carla panicked. She didn't want to lose sight of this exciting prick so soon. She hadn't expected Luke to put it away like that. She'd expected him to at least make a pass at her with it. How disappointing! This big muscular cowboy was more timid than her boyfriend Robert.
Luke wasn't having much luck getting his prick stuffed inside his jeans. He unsnapped them so he could stuff his cock and balls down one leg and then force the jeans up over them.
Lord! He was actually going to put it away!
"Let me help," Carta blurted out without thinking. Before Luke had a chance to say anything, Carla had grabbed his cock by the base. Her hand closed only three-quarters around it. It was a big cock!
Luke let out a gasp as Carla took hold of his cock, and his breath trembled. He seemed a little shaky on his feet.
Carla felt a little shaky herself. The cock was unbelievably hot against her hand. And there was life in it! Arteries fluttered against her palm. The cable-like cock jerked as if trying to leap out of her hand. The purple head pulsated like a beating heart. Carla found herself getting faint.
"It's big," she whispered. "It's so big and hard. And hot." This was unreal. Here she stood with a cock in her hand-the lusty cock of a handsome muscular cowboy. Lord!
Luke squirmed. His lean hips started to hump. His cockshaft slid back and forth in Carla's grip. "Move your pretty hand, Carla," he panted. "Jack me off."
Carla stood there motionless for several seconds. One part of her whispered to frig the beautiful young man's cock until he shot his jism through the air. Another part of her-the sadistic-masochistic part-told her to let go of the boy's cock and to tell him to do it himself.
"Carla, honey," the youth said. "You're a right pretty girl. I think I'm in love with you." He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.
His lips burned like a branding-iron. His hot cock throbbed in her hand. Carla was overcome by a wave of lust such as she had never experienced.
Her hand was moving up and down over the youth's cock even before she realized she was moving it.
"Feels good," Luke moaned. "Use both hands and it will feel even better. Oh, yeah, beautiful hands!"
Carla knelt at Luke's feet. She held his cock in her two hands as if it were a hot dog. One hand moved back and forth over the glossy cockhead while the other frigged the loose skin up and down along the steel-hard shaft. Cum dribbled out of the piss slit, and soon the entire hot prick was slick with the warm jism, and Carla's hands slid up and down easily.
Luke groaned. His hips bucked and rotated. His dick squirmed like a slippery snake in Carla's soft hands.
"Oh, baby! Carla, honey! You make my old dick feel so good. That's it, pretty girl. Oh, yeah! Mmmm! Now you've found the spot. Oh, yeah! Use your thumbs on it. Like that, yeah. Jesus!" Carla was rotating her thumbs over the loose on on the underside of the boy's cock just below the head. She'd noticed that every time she caressed the underside of his cock, his prick would leap and quiver and he would moan. This seemed to be a magic spot so Carla set to work on it. This spot must be something like her own clit-supersensitive. As she moved her thumbs faster and faster, Luke was practically dancing on his toes.
His cock was flipping all over. He whimpered like a puppy.
Carla giggled out loud. She was giddy.
"Frig the whole thing now," Luke panted. "Give the whole thing a handjob. Make it come. Move those pretty hands."
Carla let her hands go wild. She imagined herself a flutist playing to the climactic moment of a long musical piece. With one hand she jerked the boy's hot cock. It was so hard now that it seemed to be composed of a hundred steel rings, one butted against the other.
With her other hand she squeezed the boy's hot, bursting nuts. They felt like oversized ripe plums inside their hairy pink sac. She toyed with the nuts. They were as fascinating as the boy's cock. Both cock and balls were such exciting playthings that Carla could easily be content to toy with them forever. Carla giggled. The cock was nearly jumping out of his belly.
Luke held his hands on his hips and gyrated his ass like a bellydancer. He muttered to himself. Up and down he rose on his toes. His eyes swam in his skull.
Carla set both hands to his cock again and pumped. She remembered the rhythmic way Robert had stroked his cock when he had jacked off in front of her, and now she tried to apply the same rhythm and stroking movements to Luke's cock.
She held the hot prick firmly and forced her hands up and down over the cum-slickened cockskin. At the same time, she massaged the loose cockskin up and down along the ringed shaft, making sure to stretch and manipulate the sensitive area under the head with her thumbs as they passed over it.
Luke humped at her hands. His cock throbbed faster and faster, harder and harder. It was getting ready to shoot, and Carla knew it. She moved her hands so fast that they became a blur. Luke's nuts slapped back and forth.
"That's it, honey," Luke gasped. "Keep it up. Make me shoot. It's coming soon."
Luke's cock seemed to be growing in Carla's hands. It was getting longer, fatter, harder. She'd swear it was. And it was throbbing faster, deeper, more rhythmically. It was getting ready to explode.
Carla's heart hammered. She was excited. She was afraid. She was ready to piss in her shorts. Her cunt gushed, but she was filled with such anxiety at the impending explosion of Luke's cock that she didn't have time to think about her pussy. All she cared about was seeing and feeling the beautiful cock in her hands spurt off.
"Cunt!" Luke gasped. "Tits! Ass! Oh, fuck!" He snorted like a young bull. "Prick! Nuts! Pussy!"
Carla could almost hear the cum seething in his loins, could sense the rumblings. The boy was like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
Carla squeezed with all her might, nearly popping the head off the youth's cock. She frigged hard.
"Ohhhh,, jeeeeez!" Luke moaned. "I'm coming! I'm coming! Oh, Christ! Ohhhhh!"
The big cock stopped jerking for a suspended moment. All was silent, as if time had stopped. The piss-slit at the tip of Luke's purple, bursting cockhead gaped wide open like a screaming mouth.
Carla felt her eyes widening like saucers. Her mouth hung open. Luke's cock felt like a red-hot torpedo in her hands. Suddenly, it gave a great jerk. A white-hot spurt of cum burst against Carla's face.
Luke whined.
Carla held on and watched the big cock spurt. It swelled up purple again and again. She was sure the head was going to pop off and knock her out. But instead, the jism shot out-shot out hard-blasting her nose and cheeks and eyes. She had trouble seeing. She laughed out loud. Hot spurts shot directly into her mouth, stuck to the back of her throat, slid down into her belly.
Sweet jism-fresh out of the boy's loins! Tasty jism-as tasty as Robert's. But this stuff was hot -hotter than she'd ever imagined a boy's jism would be. And there was so much of it! Ten spurts? Fifteen? She'd lost count.
As the last spurts came from the boy's more slowly contracting cock, Carla planted her lips to the piss-slit and sucked the last of the jism out of his prick. She rubbed the hot cockhead back and forth across her lips and up and down her cum-smeared face.
She loved that big cock-loved its warmth, loved its life. All she wanted was to hold on to that big cock forever, jerking it off, letting it spurt against her face and down her throat-maybe even sucking it off! Oh, Lord, why hadn't she been doing this all her life? All these years she'd been teasing the boys, holding them off, torturing them for her own sadistic-masochistic pleasure. Now she realized that it was so much more pleasurable to give in, so much more pleasurable to feel a boy's hot flesh and to taste his cum.
She wiped the cum off her face with her fingers and licked her fingers clean. Then she washed her face in the river.
Luke washed off his cock and stuffed it back in his pants. The fat prick had deflated considerably.
Luke wrapped his arms around Carla and kissed her on the mouth. "Thanks, pretty girl," he said.
Carla shook so much she couldn't speak.
At that moment, three blasts of a horn came crashing through the cotton woods.
"My bus!" Carla cried.
The two of them turned and dashed off through the cottonwoods, Luke dragging Carla by the hand. Seconds later, Carla sat inside her bus, panting, now the lone passenger. As the bus pulled away, she pressed her pretty nose to the window and stared out longingly as Luke disappeared behind her.
He was waving and smiling, in heaven.
She'd taken care of him!
As the bus pulled out of town, Carla realized that her shorts were drenched between the legs. And her pussy was sizzling!