Chapter 5: Neon Rebound
The Ford’s headlights cut off abruptly, plunging the yard into near darkness. Only the weak glow from the ranch house porch light, forty yards away, fought the inky black. Abby fumbled with the door handle, her movements stiff, jerky. The sharp, deep ache inside her flared with every shift. She swung her legs out, bare feet hitting the cool, packed earth. The night air, scented with dust, horses, and distant rain, washed over her sweat-slicked skin, a momentary relief that vanished as she tried to stand.
Her legs buckled. A low moan escaped her lips as the movement torqued her sore muscles, the stretched, burning ring of her asshole protesting violently. She caught herself on the truck door, knuckles white.
"Easy there, darlin'," Colt’s voice, laced with dark amusement, came from behind her. He was out of the truck, moving fast. Too fast. Before she could take another shaky step, his hand clamped around her wrist like a manacle. He didn’t pull her gently. He spun her.
Her back slammed against the cold, unforgiving metal of the truck’s hood, the impact jarring her teeth. Colt’s body pressed flush against hers, pinning her, the heat radiating off him a stark contrast to the chill seeping through her thin shirt. His breath, hot and smelling faintly of whiskey and himself, washed over her face. "Fuckin' hell, Abby," he rasped, his voice thick, rough. "Look at you. Still tremblin'." One large hand slid possessively down her side, fingers digging into the curve of her hip, tracing the dampness staining the inside of her thigh. "That sore?" His thumb brushed the swollen, tender flesh between her legs, making her gasp sharply, a sound that was half-pain, half-shock. "Colt, please... not here," she whispered, her voice cracking, eyes darting towards the distant porch light. "Someone might..." The thought of Kenny finding them like this, her bare ass pressed against his truck, Colt’s fingers probing her freshly used hole, sent a spike of terror through the lingering haze of pleasure and pain.
He chuckled, a low, dark rumble in his chest that vibrated against her. "Relax, schoolteacher. Ain't nobody comin' out here this late." His other hand slid up her arm, surprisingly gentle now, his calloused fingers closing over hers where they gripped the hood’s edge. "C'mon." He didn’t shove this time. He pulled her upright, his arm slipping firmly around her waist, taking most of her weight as her legs wobbled precariously. "Easy, Abby girl." He guided her away from the truck, his steps slow, measured, supporting her as she limped awkwardly across the hard-packed dirt yard towards the looming shadow of the hay barn. The scent of dry grass and dust grew stronger, mingling with the deeper, earthier smell of manure and leather. Inside the barn, the darkness was thicker, pierced only by slivers of moonlight slicing through gaps in the weathered boards. The air hung heavy with the sweet, dusty perfume of stacked hay bales. Colt steered her towards a mound of loose hay piled against one wall, softer than the packed earth outside. "Here," he murmured, his voice losing its earlier edge, becoming almost... careful. "Sit." He helped her lower herself gingerly onto the yielding pile, the dry stalks pricking through her thin clothing. A sigh escaped her, part relief at being off her feet, part wince as the movement pulled at bruised, stretched muscles deep inside. She felt raw, used, the phantom stretch of him still echoing painfully in her ass. Her fingers instinctively brushed the silver promise ring Kenny had given her, cold against her thigh.
He crouched in front of her, his silhouette dark against the moonlit doorway. "Stay put," he ordered, his tone brooking no argument, but lacking its usual bite. "Don't move a goddamn muscle." He rose, his tall frame momentarily blocking the light before he slipped silently back out into the night. Abby sat frozen in the hay, the silence of the barn pressing in. The only sounds were her own shaky breaths and the distant chirp of crickets. Shame warred with a strange, shameful gratitude. The brutal claiming in the truck, the sharp, tearing pain as he’d forced himself into her ass without warning, still pulsed through her. She could feel the sticky mess cooling on her thighs, smell the musk of their coupling clinging to her skin. Yet, he’d stopped. He’d brought her here. He was... getting something? Minutes stretched, each one amplifying the throbbing ache, the vulnerability of sitting half-naked in his father’s barn. Then, boots crunched softly on the dirt outside. Colt reappeared, a small, familiar green bottle clutched in his hand. Aloe vera. He knelt before her again, the hay rustling under his knees. His eyes, adjusting to the gloom, met hers. There was no mockery now, just a focused intensity. "Gotta fix you up," he stated simply, uncapping the bottle. The sharp, clean, medicinal scent of aloe cut through the barn’s dusty perfume. He squeezed a thick, clear glob onto his fingers. "This might sting," he warned, his voice low, gravelly. "But it’ll help." His gaze dropped deliberately between her legs. "Spread 'em, Abby."
"How romantic", Abby sarcastically claps at Colt, She Raises her sundress over her head leaving her naked on the hay. She then rolls over onto her stomach and reaches back to spread her ass cheeks. "I will never get tired of seeing that" Colt jokes.
The cool gel hit her ravaged hole, a shocking relief that made her gasp into the hay. Colt’s rough thumb smeared it slowly, circling the tight, swollen rim with deceptive gentleness. "Fuck, you took it good back there," he breathed, his voice thick, "but this sweet asshole’s still all puffy and red." His calloused fingertip pressed just inside, making her flinch. "Easy, Abby girl," he soothed, but the pressure didn’t ease, working the soothing gel deeper into the tender, burning heat.
The sharp sting faded quickly, replaced by a deep, cooling relief that made her groan into the bent arm cradling her head. Colt’s thick finger, slick with aloe, pressed just a fraction deeper inside her impossibly tight back entrance, massaging the gel into the seared ring of muscle. "See?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble close to her ear. "Told you it’d help." He worked slowly, deliberately, circling the swollen rim, the pad of his thumb pressing just below where his finger invaded, coaxing the clenched muscle to yield. "Still feels like you fuckin' ripped me open," Abby gasped, the words muffled by hay. The relief was undeniable, but the memory of the truck, of his spit and his brutal, unstoppable thrusts splitting her wide, still burned bright. Her thighs trembled against the loose hay.
"Took it like a champ, though," he countered, a thread of dark pride in his tone. "Screamed into your fist, bit down like you wanted to tear it off." He added another finger coated in the slick gel, joining the first inside her heat. The stretch was immediate, intense, a sharp reminder that the pain hadn’t truly vanished, just been numbed. But the coolness spread deeper now, soothing the ragged internal fire. He scissored his fingers gently, working the aloe into the raw, tender channel. Her breath hitched, a sharp gasp escaping as the movement sparked something else entirely—a low, insistent thrum beneath the ache. "Fuck, Colt," she breathed, her hips shifting almost involuntarily against his hand. "Don't stop." The shameful relief, the unexpected comfort of his rough care, tangled with the lingering terror of being caught and the electric memory of his possession.
His chuckle vibrated against her bare spine where he leaned over her. "Oh, I ain't stoppin', darlin'." He withdrew his fingers slowly, leaving her clenching around sudden, slick emptiness. The cool residue glistened on her upturned ass in the dim moonlight filtering through the barn slats. The bottle crinkled as he squeezed another thick dollop directly onto her exposed hole, the cold gel making her jump. He smeared it over her with the flat of his palm, spreading it generously across her cheeks, down to her swollen outer lips. His touch lingered, possessive. "Need more where that came from?" he asked, the question loaded. His other hand, slick with gel, slid between her thighs from behind, finding her slippery folds. His thick middle finger plunged into her soaked cunt without hesitation. "God, you're still so fuckin' wet," he groaned, curling his finger inside her, finding that spot that made her arch off the hay. "Still hungry for it, even after I wrecked that tight little ass."
She cried out, burying her face in the hay as he worked her with ruthless expertise, his finger pistoning in her pussy while his thumb pressed hard against her clit. The dual sensations—the deep, soothing coolness of the aloe on her ravaged ass fighting the sharp, building pleasure between her legs—threatened to shatter her. "Colt! Jesus!" He pulled his finger free from her cunt with an obscenely wet sound. She heard the rustle of his jeans, the rasp of his zipper. "Stay just like that," he commanded, his voice thick with need.
The cool night air prickled Abby’s exposed skin as Colt’s rough hands gripped her hips, pulling her ass higher against him. She heard the thick, wet sound of him spitting into his palm, followed by the slick slide as he coated his rigid cock. The blunt, heated crown pressed insistently against her lower entrance, slick with her own arousal and the cooling aloe residue. "Fuck, Abby," he growled, his hips already pushing forward, seeking the familiar, welcoming heat of her pussy.
The pressure intensified, the broad head nudging past her swollen outer lips, slicking her folds. Abby gasped, a jolt of pure panic slicing through the haze of residual pain and building desire. "Colt, wait!" she choked out, bucking violently backwards against his hold. Her elbow slammed into his ribs, forcing a surprised grunt from him and halting his advance. "Stop! I can't!"
He froze, his cock still pressed hotly against her soaked opening. "What the fuck?" His voice was low, dangerous, edged with frustration and disbelief. His grip tightened on her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. "You're drenched, Abby. You want it."
"I do, God, I do," she panted, twisting her head to look back at him, her eyes wide with fear in the dim barn light. "But I can't risk it. Getting pregnant. Kenny... he'd know it wasn't his." The words tumbled out, sharp and desperate. "He hasn't touched me in weeks. If I turn up pregnant..." The unspoken consequence hung heavy in the dusty air – discovery, ruin.
Colt stared at her, his jaw clenched. The heat radiating from his body seemed to intensify, a furnace banked but not extinguished. He didn't pull away. His thumb traced the slick seam where his cockhead rested, pressing slightly, making her whimper. "So that's it?" His voice was a harsh rasp. "You get me hard as fucking granite, let me fix you up nice, then slam the door shut?" He pushed forward again, just a fraction, enough to make her gasp and clench around the intrusion. "Feel how fucking ready you are for me. Soaking wet. Begging for it."
The cool gel coating her sore asshole dripped onto the hay. Abby shoved her hips back harder against Colt’s rigid cock, grinding her wet cunt against his shaft, desperate for friction. "Not that way," she rasped, the words thick, urgent. "Put it back. There. Now."
Colt froze. His grip on her hips loosened slightly, the heat of his erection still pressed firmly against her slippery folds. "Abby... fuck, no," he breathed, disbelief warring with the raw need in his voice. "You were bleedin' a little back in the truck, darlin'. I felt it. That ass is wrecked." He pressed his thumb hard against her clit, making her cry out. "Your pussy's beggin' for me. Screamin' for it. Can feel it pulsin'."
The sharp sting of the aloe had faded into a deep, cool numbness, a stark counterpoint to the searing throb radiating from her core. Colt’s thumb still ground against her clit, sending electric jolts through her that warred violently with the raw ache echoing from her asshole. She could feel the thick, heavy length of him pulsing against her wetness, a promise and a threat. "It's wrecked because you wrecked it," Abby hissed, twisting her head back to glare at him over her shoulder, hay strands sticking to her sweat-damp cheek. "And I'm thirty-fucking-two years old, Colt Bennett. I can take it." Her voice dropped, thick with defiance and a desperate kind of need that went beyond the physical. "Put it back where it belongs. Fuck my ass like you mean it."
The challenge hung in the dusty air, charged and dangerous. Colt let out a low, animalistic growl, the sound vibrating from his chest into her back. His hand left her clit, gripping her hip with bruising force. He spat again, the warm glob landing directly on her upturned, aloe-slicked hole. She flinched at the sudden wet heat, the crude gesture a brutal punctuation to her demand. His other hand guided his cock, the broad, flared head slick with her arousal and his spit, finding the center of that tight, swollen ring.
He didn't ease in. He slammed forward. Hard.
A ragged scream tore from Abby’s throat, instantly muffled as she bit down hard on her own forearm, the taste of hay and sweat filling her mouth. The violation was immediate, brutal, a tearing, white-hot agony that obliterated the numbness. Her body arched off the hay like a drawn bow, muscles seizing, clenching instinctively around the impossible girth forcing its way inside her. "Fuck! Fuck!" she sobbed into her skin, tears springing to her eyes, instantly blurring the shadowed shapes of stacked hay bales.
Colt hissed, a sound of pure carnal satisfaction mixed with the strain of holding himself still for a fraction of a second. "Christ, Abby... like fuckin' iron," he gritted out, his voice raw. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her sweat-slicked back, his free hand clamping over her mouth to stifle any further cries. "Take it," he commanded, his breath hot on her ear. "Take every goddamn inch." He pulled back slowly, the drag of his cock against her ravaged inner walls excruciatingly vivid, then thrust forward again, deeper, harder, burying himself to the hilt with a brutal snap of his hips.
The pain was a firestorm. It consumed her, radiating up her spine, clawing at her belly. Yet beneath it, buried deep, the relentless pressure against her insides, the sheer fullness, sparked a sickening coil of forbidden pleasure. She felt stretched beyond capacity, violated, yet somehow... claimed. Owned. His hand muffled her whimpers as he began a relentless rhythm, short, punishing strokes designed to maximize the friction, the burn. The slap of his balls against her wet cunt lips was obscenely loud in the barn's stillness, punctuated by his ragged grunts and the rustle of hay beneath their straining bodies.
"Look at you," he panted, his voice thick with exertion and dark triumph. "Takin' this fuckin' cock in that tight ass." He shifted his angle slightly, grinding against her prostate deep within her passage, the new pressure a fresh wave of agony-pleasure that ripped another garbled cry from her muffled throat. "That pussy's still drippin' for it, ain't it? Soakin' my balls." His thumb found her clit again, pressing and circling with ruthless precision, amplifying the conflicting sensations into an unbearable crescendo. Pain and pleasure fused, indistinguishable, threatening to shatter her mind. She choked on her own breath, her body convulsing under his merciless assault.
He fucked her ass with a raw, piston-like efficiency, each deep thrust a calculated act of possession. The pain ebbed and flowed, replaced momentarily by a shocking, perverse sense of relief when he bottomed out inside her, only to flare anew as he withdrew. Her muffled sounds became desperate, rhythmic moans against his palm, her body struggling between fighting the invasion and grinding back onto him. The smell of sex, sweat, hay, and the faint medicinal tang of aloe permeated the air. Her vision swam, darkness crowding the edges.
Her vision swam, darkness crowding the edges. The brutal rhythm continued, each deep thrust stretching her raw passage, a searing counterpoint to Colt’s thumb grinding ruthless circles on her clit. Pain and a sickening, unwanted pleasure warred within her, twisting her guts into knots. "Mmph! Colt!" The cry was muffled, desperate, against his palm still clamped hard over her mouth.
He paused, hips buried deep, cock pulsing hotly inside her clenched heat. "What?" The word was a harsh rasp against her sweat-slicked ear, vibrating through her skull. His hand eased slightly, letting her gasp for air.
"Finger me," Abby choked out, the words raw, urgent. "Now. While you’re... inside. Fuck me there too." She shoved her hips back against him, impaling herself further on his thick length, a sharp whimper escaping as the movement sent fresh fire through her ass. "Please. Colt.Now."
A low, dark chuckle rumbled in his chest, vibrating against her back. "Greedy fucking girl," he murmured, the rough pad of his thumb never stopping its relentless assault on her clit. "Can't get enough, can you? Even with my cock splitting your ass wide open." His other hand, slick from her pussy and the hay, slid down from her hip, knuckles brushing her inner thigh. "Want it stuffed full everywhere, huh? Filthy." His middle finger found her soaked entrance, slick with her arousal, swollen and needy beneath the relentless pressure on her clit.
He pushed in. Hard. Deep. Straight into her cunt alongside his cock pistoning in her ass.
Abby’s entire body convulsed, a strangled scream tearing from her throat before she could bite it back. The sensation was overwhelming, unbearable, glorious. Filled beyond capacity. Stretched impossibly wide in both holes. His thick finger plunged into her pussy, curling ruthlessly against her front wall, finding that spot that sent white-hot sparks behind her eyes. Simultaneously, his cock withdrew almost completely from her ass, the drag agonizing, before slamming back home with brutal force, grinding deep. His knuckles pressed against her perineum, the pressure immense. "Oh fuck! FUCK!" she screamed, no longer caring about the noise, the world narrowing to the excruciating, electrifying stretch and burn and pressure. Her cunt clenched violently around his invading finger, her ass spasmed around his cock, the conflicting sensations threatening to tear her apart.
Colt groaned, a sound of pure, animalistic gratification. "Christ, Abby... feel that?" he gritted out, his thrusts becoming shorter, sharper, focused on driving his cock deep while his finger pistoned just as ruthlessly in her pussy. "Feel how fuckin' stuffed you are? Takin' cock in your ass and my finger up your cunt like a goddamn champ." Sweat dripped from his brow onto her back. He leaned harder over her, bracing himself, his movements gaining a savage intensity. The slap of flesh, the wet squelch of her drenched pussy taking his finger, the slick slide of his cock in her ass – the barn was filled with the obscene symphony of their coupling. He fucked both holes with relentless precision, his thumb still grinding her swollen clit. "Gonna make you come like this," he promised, his voice ragged, thick with exertion and lust. "Gonna make you scream while I own these holes." His finger crooked hard inside her pussy, pressing that spot relentlessly as his cock bottomed out in her ass with a brutal thrust.
The unbearable pressure ignited. Pain, pleasure, fullness, violation – it fused into a white-hot detonation deep in Abby’s core. Her back arched violently off the hay, muscles locking. A guttural, tearing scream ripped from her throat, echoing off the barn walls, raw and primal. Her cunt convulsed, clamping down hard on Colt’s driving finger in rhythmic, pulsing spasms as a searing orgasm tore through her, obliterating thought. Her ass clenched impossibly tight around his cock buried deep inside her, milking it, the intense clenching a counterpoint to the waves of ecstasy radiating from her other entrance. She shook, sobbed, mindlessly grinding back onto him, riding the brutal, overwhelming crest.