Once she got started on the work, Angie really shone. She was adept at saddling, equally skilled at slipping on a bridle, which frightens beginners because of the horse teeth and their curiosity. She helped smaller kids up and shortened or lengthened stirrups like an expert.
Rhoda, watching through the slitted windows of the trailer, murmured: "Jud hit a gold mine!" and smiled. "Maybe he hit one for me, too," she said softly.
Angela was making judicious use of Corrie and Reina, too; not giving them work beyond their ability, but using them as messengers, sending them to meet returning riders and seeing that they came up to the hitch rack in single file.
Burt Rasco, over his indignation when he had been returned a crack at the older girl, stopped to commend her, once or twice to help her, and he realized she did not even recall anything that had happened in the feed barn.
"She didn't even know it when I stayed there fucking the Mexican," Sid told him. "She was out of it! Old Jud must have given hot his hundred-dollar special! But man, ain't she a pretty!"
Burt managed to rub against Angela more than once as they worked to cinch girths and adjust stirrups. To Burt's mounting interest, Angie smiled at each contact, pressing against him as often as he pressed against her. And finally, when he had a hard-on that could no longer be ignored, she bent down, ostensibly to pull a burr off the horse's fetlock, and managed to rub against the hidden prick twice, going down and rising up.
"She's a hot potato," Burt told Sid as they sat down for a brief break as Jud took another group out on the trail that wound up through avocado trees, between two rail fences, and over into Green Valley. "No wonder that other sister is hot – it must run in the family. Whoo-ee! That Corrie like to killed me last night! If it hadn't been for that sister coming back when she did, Corrie would have had my cock hard – it would have been like three times in an hour."
"That Reina's hard to beat," Sid said with relish. "She's got a pussy like a mouse's ear. So soft! Goddamn, she's so tight I bent my cock trying to get it in her!"
Sid ginned and rubbed a hand on the bulge that had begun to grow in his jeans. "Enough," he said. "First woman I ever slipped it to was as old as my mother. Nearly as old. Lived next door. Man, did she have a lot of hair on her cunt." He shook his head. "That Mexican, she sure can do it all!"
Sid got up and looked down at the hard-on attaining to get out. "Fuck her if you can," he said. "One minute you've got hot nuts for that big one, the next minute, you're in heat for that Mexican baby. Me, I'll take 'em all!" He guffawed and walked over to the door.
He saw Angela sitting on an old rocker in the shade of one of the big oak trees that grew around the place. She was sweating, leaning back with her eyes closed. Under her thin shirt, the rolling, warm beauty of her thaws enough to drive any healthy man bananas, Sid noted.
He saw Rhoda come to the door of the trailer and look all around, and held his position, not anxious to draw attention to himself by any sudden move; Rhoda had a way of finding chores for him to do every time he took a breather.
He was far enough away so that he barely heard her voice, but it must have been directed at Angela, for the blonde got up, stretched, and disappeared into the trailer. He watched her climb the three steps, and his mind registered the classic perfection of the girl's ass, its rounded globes and its deep cleft shown so precisely by the stretch jeans.
He strolled out and looked up the trail.
Coralee was lying in the shade of an ancient, twisted avocado tree. Reina was nowhere to be seen. His interest picked up and he walked swiftly to the feed barn. Maybe the girl was taking a nap.
Angela, beginning to feel the need for some food, beginning to sense tiredness in her legs and feet, stood still, looking at Rhoda, who stared back at her gravely.
"What's the matter, Mrs. Kenny – Rhoda, I mean?" the girl asked. "Have I done something wrong?"
Rhoda smiled. "Why don't you tell me?" she asked. "I know that part of your story is on the level – you probably are Angela Hart, and you do live in Citrus City. And you have a sister, Coralee. But I can't locate your folks. What is this, anyhow?"
Angela's heart was beating faster. Thank God, Rhoda had no idea of how to reach the elder Harts, and she had not yet guessed at the simplest way to find out a great deal more.
"Our folks are on a trip," she said evenly. "Because I'm older, and because they trust me, my folks and Reina's let me bring them down here to have fun during Easter vacation."
"Why did you try to find out about me – about us?" the girl asked. She rubbed her cheek against Rhoda's.
"And quit flirting with me. You know my guts are twisted from wanting to eat you; you know that!" Tears formed in her eyes.
"Oh, Rhoda!" Angie cried, genuinely contrite. "I'm so sorry! We won't get you in trouble! Honest! Nobody's after us! I promise! Please, please-don't cry!"
She was crying herself, and her soft mouth was rich with tears and saliva as Rhoda kissed her, and the fire which started smoldering that morning grew into a heat wave.
"All right, baby, all right," Rhoda said. "We've got troubles, Jud and I. Every time the least thing comes up, I get a cold feeling inside me. A feeling of disaster."
Angela, out of love and lust, had opened Rhoda's blouse again, fascinated by the silken weight and firmness of the older woman's ripe breasts. Barely hearing Rhoda's last words above her own heartbeat, she gently placed her mouth over the nipple, over as much of the broad aureole as she could manage, and sucked, hanging on as Rhoda twisted in the grip of a surge of passion.
"Oh, God!" the woman cried. "That's heaven! How did you learn to suck like that? It kills me, it's so good!"
She shook her head in reminiscence. "Anyhow, I kept thinking about it, and thinking about it, and getting hotter and hotter. A few boys had kissed my tits; not many, and they didn't know what they were doing, but the idea was great. I liked it."
She raised and shifted her butt. "I'm leaking, just thinking of it," she giggled, then went on. "The trouble is, he wants this land. It's worth a bundle. Jud and I bought it long ago, when everything was dirt cheap."
"I'm glad we hung these blankets out to air," Angela told the two girls. "They were smelling kind of funky from all that fucking and sucking last night. Whew! I'm bushed! That was a full day's work, today!"
Coralee hugged her big sister. "You're so big and brave, Angie," the blonde said. "And old Jud is nice, fronting for us the way he did."
"He's nice, all tight," Angela laughed. "He's hot to trot, so hot you wouldn't believe it!"
They were drowsy with food after a big meal at the motel room across the way, and beginning to feel drugged from the sun, the long hours of work, and reaction to their having found a haven of sorts. The soft blankets, redolent of sunshine and clean air, made a bed as good as they could have asked. Like an ancient picture of innocence, the three of them sat cross-legged, naked, at home with each other. Each knew the others' capability for the lusting fun their bodies could contrive. None felt above the others.
"You think he really will fuck you in the ass, Reina?" Coralee sounded a bit breathless. "Wow! When we're fooling around and one of you sticks a finger up me, it's a gas! What would a big, stiff cock be like? Would it kill me?"
"Ho-ho!" Angela said. "You ever look in the can after a big shit? Of course you have! Your ass stretched to let those big turds out. I'm sure they're as big as the average cock. All I'm waiting for is for some guy to ask me. Or better yet, to flop me on my belly and take it away from me! Wow!"
She hunched her softly muscled ass on the blanket, and Corrie said in a husky voice: "I'm getting too hot talking like this!"
She reached for her handbag and brought out a plastic bottle with a soft, rounded pinch-off cap. She measured it with her hands – about seven inches long, about an inch in diameter at the head, swelling to twice that size. Without more ado, she let a gob of saliva flow onto the head of the bottle, leaned back, and began to pump the improvised dildo slowly in and out of her girlish cunt.
"What the hell!" cried Angie. "That's Mama's foot lotion! Where'd you get it?"
With her eyes closed and her face smiling, Corrie replied: "Out of Mom's bag yesterday. I thought it might be nice to have."
"Here, let me hold it," Angie whispered. "Let me fuck you with it and talk to you at the same time! Last night, Mister Kenny did that to me – talked to me!" Her body moved involuntarily, her cunt burned by a sharp itch at the memory of the tough old stud whispering fuck-talk in her ears. She giggled, just the least bit hysterically.
"Come over here, Reina, baby," she said huskily. "I've got to sit up to do this to my sister. Lie down by me and I'll stuff a finger into you, and you can play with me. Okay? Maybe we'll all shoot it together!"
She worked the plastic bottle in and out of Corrie's hot pink pussy, twisting it when her sister's tightness stopped the bottle from going in any further. And she began to talk. "I'm a big, strong man. I'm Mister Kenny and Burt Rasco and Reina's uncle in Guadalajara! I've got my big, hard cock way deep in your lovely, hot cunt-deep in, deep in!" She gave the bottle an extra hard shove each time she said: "Deep in!" Her body began to move with the heat inside her, trying to catch the finger Reina was using to tickle her clit.
"You're shooting juice out all over my balls," she whispered. "Your cunt's fat and slick and hot and gooey! There's a big load of jism in my balls and I'm going to shoot it right up you, right up your pussy! Ohhh! Oh Jesus!"
She was jamming the battle into her sister's cunt in a blind and savage burst of lust, and Reina, making animal noises, was crushing her down to the blanket, trying to get her legs around Angela's head. The pinkness of her opened pussy was visible in the light of the electric lantern Jud had given them, and Angela strained toward it, trying to get a mouthful of all that wet and swollen sweetness.
They were all laughing and crying as they began to get untangled. Corrie regarded the plastic bottle with exaggerated fear. "This thing got out of control! It was raping me!" she said.
"I got so hot," Angie said. "Gee, honey, I hope I didn't hurt you!"
Carrie hugged her and kissed her, pressing her aching boobs, feeling of the nipples. "When you come Angie," the girl asked, "do you feel it here? In your boobs, I mean? They always seem bigger, and the nipples get so hard!"
Angie hugged her, hard, still hot and aroused from the quick girl-fuck, the memory of the hard old man last night, and the more recent memory of their sixty-nine in the tack room. The older girl's hands went deep between Corrie's asscheeks, fingers slipping and caressing in the juices that were so warm and sticky and sweet.
In the middle of their embrace, she felt her sister become limp and realized she had fallen asleep while Angie was arranging Corrie's legs and turning her on her side, the dark girl smiling sleepily, crowded in next to Coralee, and the two of them snuggled together, sound asleep in seconds.
Angela shook her head, amused but exasperated. "I'm the one who should be sleepy," she murmured. "But I'm charged up."
She pulled her knit shirt over her head, liking the feel of it as it stretched and brushed its way across her tits, and stepped into the miniskirt. She went out into the soft dust, still warm from an unusually hot spring day, enjoying the feel of it on her bare feet, and stared around, her eyes quickly adapting to the dark. There was a light on in the bunkhouse, and she went softly to look in the window and saw only Sid, lying on top of the blankets in his bunk, looking at a skin book.
She knew that Jud had driven down to Santa Vaca, having an appointment with an attorney, and her female loins suddenly ached for the feel of a grown woman against her body.
She knew, there was a break in the fence which separated the red house from the stable area, and she went to it, hugging her breasts in the dark as a slight chill blew up from the little creek a quarter-mile south.
She did not call out for Rhoda, but looked carefully into each room, not vastly disappointed at finding no one in the house. Her inner warmth was more a matter of natural desire, of normal heat, than a snarling, raging need. There was a comfortable feeling in the house, and Angela felt keenly that this sense of welcome was something to treasure.
In a large bedroom, she saw a number of photographs, in frames, of a slender but voluptuous blonde girl, shown with yellowed clippings from a newspaper. The datelines were 1948, twenty-five years before, and the girl was, beyond a doubt, Rhoda Kenny. She had been Rhoda Schaefer then, but a smaller clipping announced her marriage to Judson Raiford Kenny, just graduated from Stanford.
The two were older than her father and mother, and Angie drew a fiercely happy breath. An old man like that, forty-six years old, able to fuck like Jud, better than any boy. Wow!
And Rhoda, how beautiful she had been elected 'Miss Poinsettia' in that far-off year. Seventeen years old, the old clippings said. That made her forty-two, now. Or forty-one. And Jud had been twenty-one. It made the future somehow richer and more promising, the fact that people that age could still be so beautiful. And so deep in sex.
And Rhoda! How marvelous that she was still into sex, still hot. Quick tears of empathy, of love, stung Angie's eyes.
In the dear, cool night, softened by a big moon, she heard a ripple of laughter, a few words she could not understand, and then a scream. It came from the back yard, and Angela went swiftly and quietly out to stand behind a long, rambling outbuilding from which a dim light was showing a bank of windows. A soft, warm light, and she saw it was from a dozen candles, mounted around a large, low couch.