Lucky at Summer Ch. 03

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Mike continues to broaden his horizons.
7.4k words
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/21/2022
Created 01/19/2011
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During Mike's first few weeks at the ranch, he did little more than clean the house, wash clothes, and prepare meals for his Aunt Molly and himself. Although she would never admit it to him of course, what Molly needed most was a "wife" and Mike was it.

Being a sharp eighteen year old, Mike knew what role he had been given but he was an eager helper anyway. He knew he was basically useless elsewhere and the chance to watch his aunt's ass in those tight jeans more than compensated for any masculine ego bruising his gender inappropriate role forced upon him.

Molly and Mike's sex life settled into a happy routine. Each morning she would awaken him with a blowjob. On Wednesday and Saturday nights, they would fuck, usually three times. Neither could remember being happier.

In his spare time, Mike helped in the main horse barn. He learned how to assemble and put on the rider's tack. He practiced riding and gave the horses some needed exercise.

Although her spread [the ranch I mean...sheesh] wasn't large, it was more than Molly could handle alone, even more than she and Hastings could fully work together. About three days a week and whenever else Molly needed help, three cowboys from Abigail Campbell's place would help run the ranch with Molly.

Primarily, the business made money in four ways: leasing excess acreage to other ranchers for grazing and winter feed crops; selling stock; supplying stud services, particularly Molly's prized Appaloosa stallion Banshee; and leasing riding ponies to nearby dude ranches open during the summer.

In the past, Molly and her husband had boarded horses owned by well-off professionals working in the cities of Wyoming and surrounding states but escaping through imagined lives on the open range. She still had two mares that she kept for Bill Dennis, but that represented the smallest portion of her revenues and earnings.

As he became more competent, Mike's chores took less time and he began helping Molly with some of the revenue aspects of ranching. In particular, he learned to drive the pickup and horse trailer. He practiced for hours, maneuvering the tandem vehicles forward and back, across open terrain and around obstacles. Mike became a better driver than either Molly or Hastings had ever been.

With his newfound talent, Mike began delivering horses for tourists' use and picking up them up when the rush had passed. In time, he was also shuttling stallions to neighboring ranches for stud, including Banshee. His first outing was with the prized stallion proved to be quite an education for a young man still discovering the wonders of Wyoming women.

Mike arrived at Abigail Campbell's ranch at 10:30 as scheduled. A pretty girl his own age waved him over to a split-rail corral adjacent to one of the barns. A skittish filly moved nervously inside.

"Hi, I'm Amanda," she said as Mike stopped the pickup next to her and lowered the window. "Amanda, not Mandy, if you're thinking about being a friend," she smiled.

"Hi, I'm Mike," he smiled back. Girls his own age still made him nervous.

"Abby said to put him in with the filly."

Abigail Campbell was Molly's best friend and had already heard all about Mike. She deliberately didn't greet him herself sending Amanda, her prettiest and most friendly summer worker in her stead. She wanted to size up this newcomer from afar first.

In his boots, Mike stood six feet six. He was lean but muscled. His face and arms were tanned and he was now more handsome than he'd ever been. Amanda's heart skipped a beat as she watched Mike lower that trailer's back gate and begin unloading Banshee.

The stallion was more fractious than Mike could remember as the scent of a female in season saturated the air around the corral. Banshee reared up nearly causing Mike to lose control. The horse's fat penis had begun to unsheathe and both teens could clearly see the pink and black flesh bobbing in the air.

Amanda had noticed Mike's nervousness from the start and decided to have some fun with the tenderfoot. "Guess he's excited to be here, huh?" she asked, causing Mike to blush.

Mike had absolutely no idea what the protocol for horse mating might be and, after delivering the stallion to the corral, headed back to his truck. Until, that is, he saw Amanda mount the fence and take a seat straddling the top rail. Apparently, equine reproduction was a spectator sport. Mike joined her.

Almost immediately he knew he'd made a bad choice as watching a fully aroused stallion chase a fertile filly bucking at his attempts to mount while sharing split-rail seating with a gorgeous girl caused his own cock to swell. Amanda was immediately aware of the movement in his jeans.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked being almost cruel in her ambiguity. She let her hand rest on his thigh.

Poor Mike was no match for the human beauty. This was Amanda's fourth summer on the ranch and she'd heard all the raucous tales that have been told around the campfires of the west for that past hundred and fifty years. She knew exactly what she'd say next.

The coupling itself didn't take very long, but it was sufficient time for her to ask, "How'd you like to do that?" she asked, nodding at the coupled horses. Squeezing his thigh, Amanda looked deep into Mike's eyes with her best come-get-you-some look.

"Sure," squeaked Mike in a voice he hadn't used since his testicles descended.

"Well go ahead," Amanda laughed as Banshee's phallus slipped dripping from his erstwhile mate. "I don't think Abby will mind and from the size of that stud, I doubt that filly will even know you're in there!"

Mike was crimson as Amanda stood up on the fence rails. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before swinging her leg to the ground. "Don't be mad, it's only a joke," she said and started toward the barn. She turned but kept walking backwards. "And don't forget, cutie, it's Amanda," she called letting him know her interest was anything but malicious.

Mike watched over his shoulder as Amanda led the filly into the barn, leaving Banshee alone in the corral. He was just beginning to ponder her use of the appellation "cutie" when another voice, deeper and more sultry, startled him.

"You must be Mike," it said. He jerked his head around to see a most amazing sight standing by his knee. In her boots with three-inch heels, she was still under five feet high. Brassy, curls sprouted everywhere from under her cream colored Stetson like some blonde medusa. Her fat, pouty lips painted a bright red were no more than a foot and a half from his crotch as she stared up at his roost on the fence.

"I'm Abby and Molly has told me all about you," said the voluptuous, almost cartoonishly proportioned female. From the waist down, Abby was an almost normal, albeit well-cushioned, human. It was the two volleyballs Mother Nature had stuffed into her stretchy top that made people's mouth's hang open on first meeting her.

"You'll probably never hear another woman say this as the third sentence to a perfect stranger but, yes, they're real. Don't be embarrassed by thinking that, everybody does. Hey, come on in the house and I'll get you a pop."

Except to Mike's sexually charged ears, it sounded like she said, 'I'll get you to pop.'

Abby handed Mike a can of Pepsi from fridge and opened one for herself. She made no effort to get glasses. That kind of shit only meant something to pampered city cunts. She held her soda up in toast.

"That horse got some dick on him, don't he?" she offered without a hint of embarrassment.

"Uh...yeah," Mike replied, briefly thrusting his Pepsi toward the ceiling then taking a giant gulp. He had absolutely no idea where this conversation was going.

"Don't look so shocked," Abby told him. "I been on this ranch more'n twenty years. Husband's gone off -- again -- some barrel-riding cowgirl this time. That scratches his itch but it don't do nothin' fer mine. With these here tits, I had offers from just about every kind of guy there is. And I had almost as many men as offers. I ain't got enough time in summer as it is, so let's not waste any. Molly tells me that horse ain't the only stud come over here this morning. Says I ought to give you a try. You as good as she says?"

Mike may have reacted like a deer in headlights but his cock hadn't lost its ability to respond. Abby had put her soft drink down and was standing a foot away. Both were staring down between them. Mike's eyes were focused on the impossibly vast cleft line that jutted from Abby's low-cut top like the San Andreas Fault.

In Abby's vision, it was mounded blue denim as far as the eye could see. When she sighed deeply, both watched her soft, clothed mounds approach the hard denim swell then yield as the two fabrics touched spreading and encircling the teen's phallic bundle. Her hand reached between them stroking Mike's big dick.

"Oooo, you are a big boy, ain't you!" Abby said throatily, after letting out a whistle. "We ain't got the time to do things proper, but I ain't lettin' you leave without gettin' a sample."

Mike saw, felt, and heard his zipper being lowered. When her hand reached bare flesh, Abby knew Mike's big dick wouldn't come out of the open fly easily so she unbuckled his belt and opened the top of his jeans. She slid his pants and briefs to his knees and felt her cheek glide across the hot, hard cock flesh.

Leaning slightly backward, she grabbed his meat pole with her small hands. At least four inches still throbbed nakedly at the Wyoming atmosphere despite her two-handed grip. Abby's own genitals were twitching more violently than she expected and she knew she would soon have to use one of her hands to take care of her own rapidly building needs.

Abby began lapping at the sides of Mike's rigid member preparing it for an oral outing. She held onto Mike's balls while she tongue washed his cock. Finally, when both it and her lips and tongue were heavy with saliva, she let go of him and steadied her reddened oval just above the cock head.

Abby lifted her gaze to catch Mike's as he stared down at her. Their eyes locked as, slowly, she moved her mouth down the shaft.

In one of those quirks of human diversity, Abby's oral cavity was significantly more capacious than its genital counterpart. This meant she could (and did) bounce up and down on smaller hung guys with the snugness of a minister's wife. For bigger boys like Mike, Abby often resorted to oral accommodations unless she was feeling exceptionally horny and raunchy in which case, the back door would be open.

In awe, Mike saw eight-ninths of his unit slide luxuriously past Abby's lips. Her hot wet tongue sent him into fits as she scraped her teeth gently along the base of his cock. Mike stood no more chance of holding off his orgasm than Crocket at the Alamo as the experienced ranch owner sought, hungrily, to suck it from him.

Her hands had dropped under her skirt as soon as her practiced lips encircled his cock head. Abby knew Mike's inexperience would cause him to unload quickly and she feverishly clawed at her pussy to secure her own release. The hotness of fellating the big cocked teen led her to climax much more quickly than she was accustomed and she actually began coming before he did.

Mike wasn't far behind, however, and he gushed his appreciation directly into Abby's throat. For ninety gooey seconds the older wife and youthful ranch hand coupled in her kitchen twitching, connected only at her mouth and his cock.

Both were breathing heavily when Abby finally pulled her lips off his dick. Mike fumbled to do up his jeans while Abby, her eyes closed, leaned against the table savoring the cum she had yet to swallow.

"Fuck that was good!" she said breaking their sexual silence. "But you best get goin' darlin'. Molly needs you and there will be more time later."

"Thanks," was all Mike could think of as he headed out the door.

He saw Amanda leaning against the corral fence as he stepped from the house. She didn't move and she didn't look away as he approached to get the Appaloosa. As he led the animal to the trailer, she walked close enough to him that their arms grazed against each other.

"How was Abby?" she asked as Mike closed the horse inside.

"Oh, she was really nice," he answered, wondering if Amanda meant what it sounded like she meant.

"I'll bet she was," Amanda mocked. "You got lipstick on your jeans."

Mike's head jerked down at whiplash inducing speed as Amanda guffawed.

"Made you look," she chuckled as Mike angrily got into the truck and spun up dust and gravel as he pulled away. He quickly let off the gas when he realized he had the horse behind him.

As he drove the quiet roads of western Wyoming toward his summer home, Mike contemplated the enormous reversal of fortune he'd enjoyed with the fairer sex over the past five weeks. He'd left high school an awkward, gangly doofus who'd never had a date much less kissed a girl -- no need discussing other bases when he'd never gotten to first.

Now, he'd gone from mind-blowing mind sex with a pretty stewardess to sweet blowjobs and intercourse with an aunt who looked like she could be nominated for an Oscar to an unbelievable hummer from a bigger-breasted, larger-mouthed mini Dolly Parton.

Oh yeah, and Abby-Dolly or Dolly-Abby or whoever she was had the cutest summer helper with the dirtiest mind who just might want to hook up with him.

Meanwhile, back home, poor Jim, his previously presumed "lucky" chum from high school, was stuck stepping around bikini-clad bodies removing debris from swimming pools while depositing pre-ejaculate into his shorts.

Mike got back to the ranch just in time to prepare supper. He'd only had half a can of Pepsi since breakfast and he was ravenous. Once at the table, Molly began asking about his trip. Once the perfunctory questions were out of the way, Molly got down to the interesting stuff.

"That Abby's a trip, isn't she?" she asked him.

"She's something else," her nephew agreed.

"Who do you think she looks like?"

"Dolly Parton," Mike answered without hesitation.

"Exactly!" Molly nearly shouted. "Everybody says that but she doesn't see it. Better not call her that though, it tends to piss her off."

"She said she's married..."

"Brian. He's off somewhere screwing around. This is about the fourth time he's done that."

"She takes him back?"

"He's a good guy basically. In case you haven't noticed, sweet guys are a little scarce out here. He keeps her happy when he's around. Bet she was happy to see you, though."

Did Molly know? Ever since he left Abby's place, Mike had been feeling funny about being "unfaithful" to his aunt. At his level of arrested social development, Mike even imagined marrying Molly at times.

"You wouldn't be mad if we did something?" asked Mike disbelievingly.

"Why would I..." Molly began then realized the depths of her nephew's innocence. Mike must think if a woman has sex with a man, they're a couple.

"Look Mike," she began, "I loved your uncle dearly, but I wasn't all that pure. Neither was he. It gets lonely out here, especially in winter. A couple alone can be almost as lonesome as a single."

"You mean..."

"Yeah, Mike," Molly sighed, "faithfulness wasn't exactly a cornerstone of our relationship. It started when we found out we couldn't have children. Something snapped in me; our marriage was a cruel joke. I left for a while and sewed the oats I never did before the wedding.

"Hastings was a good man. He waited patiently at the ranch for me to return. When I did, things were different. I was different. We became what I guess you could call swingers. On the road, at rodeos, livestock shows, auctions, and such, a lot of married couples turned a blind eye to a spouse sharing a little extramarital contact.

"Sometimes another couple would stop by the ranch for a few weeks. Sometimes it might be just a single man. Hastings enjoyed sharing me. I think he knew I had a higher drive than he did.

"Abby too?" Mike interjected.

"Hastings and I swapped with Abby and Brian. It was a lot of fun. We're just scratching complementary itches, you and I, so I don't mind sharing you with her. So tell me," Abby giggled in a conspiratorial voice, "what did you and Abby get up to?"

Mike described the blowjob being careful not to praise Abby's oral skills too highly.

"Don't worry kid," his aunt soothed, "Hastings always said Abby gave the best head. I'm not offended. While we're on the subject, someone is coming over to discuss business this weekend. A male someone. He's Bill Dennis the guy we board horses for. He'll be staying in my room."

"Sure," said Mike a little too eagerly. He was still coming to terms with not being boyfriend and girlfriend with his aunt but he wanted her to know he understood their relationship.

"Abby said you could stay over with her if you wanted. What did you think of Amanda? She's cute isn't she? I guess you wouldn't mind talking with someone your age for a while."

"Sure," Mike said again. He needed time to think. So much had suddenly changed.

The remainder of the week played out as usual. Morning BJs and a fantastic Wednesday night fuck. It would be their last until after Bill left.

At noon on Friday, a distinguished, just-starting-to-gray gentleman arrived. Molly introduced Bill. It was obvious to Mike that his aunt was harboring a crush on the new guest. She clung to his arm and stayed upstairs unpacking for him while Bill shared a beer with Mike in the kitchen.

He really is nice, Mike thought as they chatted. Bill was a small businessman from the Denver suburbs looking to make some changes in his life. He asked Mike how he liked ranch life and told him some funny stories about the year he'd spent as a grossly untalented bull rider on the rodeo circuit. Mike had tears in his eyes when Molly descended the stairs.

"Just telling Mike about the time that bull "pants-ed" me up in Fargo," Bill explained. Molly laughed out loud. The image of that bull strutting around the arena with Bill's levis on his horns while Bill scrambled up the fence in his undies never failed to get a big laugh wherever he told it.

"Abby's, eh?" Bill said when told Mike would be staying elsewhere for the weekend. "Just remember to count your body parts before you head back."

Mike's second arrival at the Campbell ranch was treated with much more fanfare by the mistress of the house. Abby hopped up on the pickup's running board as soon as the truck stopped. She poked her head through the window so quickly she knocked her Stetson to the ground. She gave Mike a big, wet kiss.

Leading him inside immediately, she opened a couple of bottles of beer, taking a big swig from one while handing the other out to Mike. When Mike sat on a kitchen chair, Abby hopped up onto the table and scooted her way over in front of him.

Her denim mini-skirt scarcely covered her blue satin thong as her bare legs dangled on either side of Mike's knees. Her tank top, worn braless, was stretched hideously beyond recognition. Mike's eyes bounced around their sockets like they belonged in some hypersonic pinball machine.

"Molly said you liked that thing I did with my mouth last time," Abby told him like she didn't know the technical term for her best sexual skill. She rubbed her hands up and down her legs inviting the teen to feel them. More experienced men would eagerly accept her invitation but not Mike. His shyness excited her. She knew how near virginal he was and she was more than prepared to lead.

"I want you to know that anytime you need a blowjob this weekend, just say the word. I'll be more than happy to suck you off. Did Molly tell you I really enjoyed it too?"

Mike shook his head. He was actually a little scared of Abby.

"I loved it. You have a beautiful, big cock. Your cum was so fresh and sweet, mmmm. I'm wet just thinking about it. Let me do it now.Please..."