Chapter 6: Barnyard Snuggle
The scream died in Abby’s throat, replaced by guttural, rhythmic gasps that echoed off the barn rafters. Her body shuddered violently, asshole clenching like a vice around Colt’s buried cock as the brutal orgasm tore through her. She felt her own wetness gush, soaking Colt’s balls and thighs pressed tight against her, mingling with the slippery mess already coating her inner thighs. "Fuck! Colt! Oh God, fucking yesss!" she chanted, the words raw, broken, riding the crest of agonizing ecstasy. "Love your cock in my ass! Split me open! Fuck! Fuck my ass!" Her hips bucked wildly back against him, impaling herself deeper on his rigid length with each desperate jerk.
Colt’s groan was pure animalistic satisfaction. "Christ, Abby! Feel that ass milking me!" His thrusts became ragged, uncontrolled, piston-stroke efficiency giving way to desperate, shallow slams. His hand clamped over her mouth again, muffling her screams as he buried his face in the sweat-damp hair at her neck. "Gonna fill you up! Gonna pump this tight little asshole full!" The slap of flesh grew frantic, wetter. He planted his feet, grinding deep, hips stuttering. A harsh, ragged cry ripped from him as he slammed home one final time. Abby felt the hot, thick pulse deep within her, the scalding jets flooding her raw channel as his cock twitched violently inside her clenching heat. "Take it!" he grunted, each spurt wrenched out of him. "Take every fucking drop, Abby. My seed in your ass."
They collapsed forward onto the loose hay, a tangle of sweat-slick limbs. Colt’s weight pressed her down, his softening cock still lodged deep inside her, a thick, warm plug trapping his cum. He was breathing like a spooked stallion, his heartbeat thundering against her back. Abby lay trembling beneath him, utterly spent, her face pressed into the dry, scratchy hay, the sharp scent filling her nostrils, mixing with the overwhelming musk of sex, sweat, and the faint medicinal tang of the discarded aloe bottle nearby. Every nerve ending felt raw, exposed. The deep, burning ache in her asshole was a constant throb beneath the lingering tremors of her climax. She could feel his cum, hot and heavy inside her, a tangible claim.
Minutes bled into the quiet darkness, broken only by their slowing breaths and the distant lowing of cattle. The barn’s cool air prickled their damp skin. Colt shifted slightly, his softening cock slipping free with a wet, obscene sound that made Abby flinch. A fresh trickle of warmth leaked down her inner thigh onto the hay. He rolled onto his side beside her, pulling her back against his chest, his arm a heavy band across her waist. His rough hand slid down her stomach, fingers tracing idly through the mess cooling on her skin – her own slickness, his cum leaking from her ass. "Damn, Abby," he murmured, his voice hoarse, exhausted. "That was... fuckin' primal." He nuzzled the curve of her neck, his breath warm. "You okay? Took it hard."
She shivered, pressing back into his warmth, seeking the solidity of him against the aftershocks. "Sore," she admitted, her voice a raspy whisper. "Burns. But... yeah." It was the understatement of the century. She felt hollowed out, utterly possessed, the deep ache a constant, brutal reminder. She reached back, her fingers tentatively brushing the swollen, tender flesh of her asshole, slick and stretched. She winced. "You wrecked it good, Bennett."
He chuckled, a low rumble she felt more than heard. "Looked fuckin' beautiful takin' it." His fingers joined hers, gently probing the swollen rim. "Still puffy. Red as hell. Like a well-used fuckhole." He traced the outline, his touch surprisingly careful now. "Need more aloe?"
"Later," she mumbled, exhaustion washing over her. The adrenaline crash was brutal. She felt boneless, adrift in the aftermath, the scent of hay and sex and him enveloping her. The promise ring on her finger felt cold, alien against her heated skin. Kenny. The thought was a dull, distant thud in her chest, easily drowned out by Colt’s steady heartbeat against her back and the deep, lingering throb between her legs. She closed her eyes, drifting in the strange peace of utter depletion.
The heavy barn door groaned on its hinges with a sound like a rusty hinge tearing. Sudden, blinding light sliced through the dusty gloom.
Abby froze, heart slamming against her ribs. Colt’s arm tightened like steel around her waist, pulling her flat into the hay, shielding her nakedness with his own body. "Shit," he hissed, his voice a breath against her ear.
"Colt?" The voice was gravel and authority, unmistakable. Beau Bennett stood silhouetted in the open doorway, a powerful flashlight beam cutting through the darkness, sweeping across the mounds of hay. It passed perilously close to their hiding spot, illuminating dust motes dancing in its harsh glare. "That you in here, boy? Heard some godawful racket earlier. Sounded like a coyote gettin' tore apart."
Colt shifted, deliberately rustling the hay. "Yeah, Pa," he called out, his voice surprisingly steady, rough with sleep. "Just me. Couldn't sleep. Came out to check on that new hay shipment. Thought I heard somethin' rustlin' in here earlier too. Probably just a damn raccoon." He made a show of yawning loudly. "Must've scared it off."
The flashlight beam wavered, then steadied, pinpointing a stack of bales opposite them. Abby held her breath, every muscle locked. The hay pricked her bare skin. She could feel Colt’s heart pounding against her back, a frantic counterpoint to her own terror. One stray beam, one curious step further into the barn...
Beau grunted. The sound echoed. "Hay looks fine." The beam swept again, slower this time. It grazed the edge of the pile they were buried in, highlighting stray strands inches from Colt’s shoulder. Abby squeezed her eyes shut. "Raccoon probably after the feed sacks," Beau said, his tone dismissive now. "Make sure that door latches proper when you leave. Don't want critters gettin' in here." The beam snapped off abruptly, plunging them back into near darkness. Heavy boots crunched on the dirt floor, retreating. The door groaned again, then slammed shut with a final, echoing thud. The heavy wooden bar scraped into place outside – locked.
Silence descended, thick and suffocating. Abby let out a choked sob, buried in the hay. "Oh my God," she whispered, trembling violently. "He almost saw us."
Colt’s grip on her was fierce. "He didn't." His voice was tight, adrenaline still thrumming. "Fucking close, though." He rolled her onto her back in the hay, his eyes searching her face in the dimness, pupils wide with the same fear and residual intensity. "Too fucking close." The near-discovery, the raw danger, seemed to short-circuit the post-coital lethargy. The fear morphed into something else, something hotter, more desperate.
He kissed her. Hard. A claiming kiss, bruising her lips. His hand slid roughly between her legs, fingers immediately finding her still-slick, swollen folds. She gasped against his mouth. She was sore, tender, the aftermath of his brutal claiming still a deep ache, but his touch ignited a spark beneath the exhaustion and shock. She was still wet, impossibly so. The adrenaline, the terror, the primal relief of escape – it all funneled into a sudden, sharp resurgence of need.
"Fuck," Colt breathed, pulling back slightly, his eyes burning into hers. His fingers slid easily into her cunt, curling, finding her sensitive spot with unerring accuracy. She arched off the hay, a low moan escaping her. "Still so fuckin' ready," he growled, his voice thick with renewed lust. "Still soaking wet for me after all that?" He added a second finger, stretching her, pistoning roughly. The friction was sharp against her tender flesh, a delicious counterpoint to the lingering sting in her ass. "Need it again? Need my cock filling this sweet cunt this time? Claiming what's mine where it should be?"
The explicit words, the rough possession in his touch, banished the last remnants of fear. The need surged, urgent and undeniable. "Yes," Abby gasped, her hands grabbing his shoulders, nails digging in. "Fuck me, Colt. Now. In my pussy. Hard. Need to feel you. Need you to own it."
He didn't hesitate. He pulled her roughly to the edge of the hay pile, her back hitting the rough, splintered wood of a support beam. The cool planks shocked her overheated skin. Colt shoved her legs apart, kneeling between them. The moonlight through the slats caught the fierce determination on his face, the raw hunger. He spat into his palm, slicking his already hardening cock, glistening with her wetness from his fingers. The broad head nudged her swollen, glistening entrance. "Gonna fuck you right here, Abby," he growled, eyes locked on hers. "Against the wall. Where anyone could walk in. Gonna make you scream again." He thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful stroke.
"Ah! Colt!" Abby cried out, the sudden, deep invasion a shock of pure sensation. Her cunt clenched hard around his thick length, welcoming the familiar, demanding stretch. He felt huge, filling her completely, a stark contrast to the brutal emptiness she’d felt moments ago. He didn't pause, didn't ease her into it. He set a ruthless pace immediately, driving into her with deep, powerful thrusts that slammed her back against the wooden beam with each impact. The vibration rattled her teeth.
He leaned in, bracing one hand against the wall beside her head, his body pinning hers. His other hand gripped her hip, fingers digging in as he fucked her with relentless force. "That's it," he grunted, his breath hot on her face. "Take it. Take my cock in that tight fucking pussy." His hips snapped forward, grinding deep. "Feel how much better it fits? How it belongs here?" He slammed into her again, the wet slap of flesh echoing. "Forget Kenny. Forget everything. This cunt is mine now. Say it!"
The rough wood scraped her back. The force of his thrusts stole her breath. Her breasts bounced with each powerful drive. The dual sensations – the deep ache from her ass a dull background throb, the exquisite, demanding fullness and friction in her pussy – were overwhelming. "Yours!" she gasped, meeting his thrusts, her hips rising desperately. "All yours, Colt! My pussy is yours! Fuck me! Own it!"
He groaned, a low sound of pure possession. He hooked one of her legs over his forearm, lifting it, spreading her wider, changing the angle. The next thrust hit deeper, harder, grinding directly against that spot inside her that made stars explode behind her eyelids. "Fuuuck!" she screamed, her head thudding back against the beam. "Right there! Oh God, right fucking there!" Her hands clawed at his sweat-slicked back, urging him on, deeper, harder.
He fucked her against the barn wall with savage intensity, the old timbers creaking in protest. Sweat dripped from his brow onto her chest. His breathing was harsh gasps. The smell of their desperate coupling filled the small space – sex, sweat, hay dust, the lingering metallic hint of blood from her ass, and beneath it all, the earthy smell of the cattle and dust from the ranch outside. He pistoned into her, each stroke a declaration, a reclamation. "Gonna fill this pussy too," he promised raggedly, his thrusts becoming shorter, more urgent, losing their rhythm. "Gonna breed you right here, Abby. Fuck Kenny." His hips stuttered, slamming deep. "Take it! Take my fucking seed!"
He buried himself to the root with a final, grinding thrust, his body locking rigid. Abby felt the hot, thick pulses erupting deep inside her cunt, flooding her, branding her from the inside. Her name tore from his lips in a raw, guttural shout that mingled with her own cry as another, sharper orgasm ripped through her, triggered by the scalding flood and the unrelenting pressure of him buried deep. Her cunt milked him desperately, milking every drop as she convulsed against the rough barn wall.
He slumped against her, pinning her to the wood, both of them gulping air, slick with sweat, trembling. The smell of fresh semen joined the other odors in the barn. His softening cock stayed lodged inside her, a warm, spent plug. Slowly, carefully, he lowered her leg, his arms wrapping around her waist, holding her up as her knees threatened to buckle. He rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling.
Outside, the world of Garrison, Colorado, slept. Inside the dusty, hay-scented darkness, locked away from prying eyes, Abby Phillips held onto Colt Bennett, the heat of his release seeping into her womb, and a cold, sharp realization pierced the haze of satiation and exhaustion: Kenny would be expecting her home soon.