My Little Farm Girl

Her hair had been bound up in some way and there was an almost masculine hat worn for the hunt sitting on her head.

She looked phenomenal, the long skirt almost dragging the floor, giving me ideas of defiling her in some hayloft somewhere.

They took a series of shots of her in that get-up, then they brought in a horse of all things.

That was fine, until they had Josh join the scene. For this part they were taking video as well as stills.

I listened as the photographer ordered them into more and more compromising poses. His voice so brisk and detached it might be easy to forget that they were two warm bodied young people who now had their hands roaming each other’s chest or back.

I gritted my teeth and kept my feet from moving forward by sheer will. Why did I come here? I knew these things could get a bit risqué, and rather suggestive, I’d dated enough models in my day to know how it worked.

Somehow it never bothered me before, it had just been a job. Now, standing there, watching her as she sat atop the horse with his hand on her ankle, her cheeks flushed from her natural shyness, I wanted to tear his fucking head off and spank her ass until she screamed.

Chapter 12

They were at it for hours, assuming different poses each one involving him having his hands on her in some way or another.

The last straw was when he sat on the horse behind her with his arms wrapped tightly around her middle just under her breast, and his face in her neck as if kissing her there.

Throughout she’d been sending me furtive glances, none of them bearing fear but a slight unease at me seeing her in these compromising positions. Again it was just her natural inhibitions at play.

But she should’ve been very afraid. It’s her job Callan. I warned myself even as they called a halt for the day; but nothing would assuage the deep fury that burned in my blood just beneath the surface.

“We’re in a bit of a rush can she bring this back tomorrow?” The photographer, knowing exactly who I was didn’t make any bones about me taking her out of there in the costume as I took her hand in mine and pulled her towards the exit.

She turned to wave at the others as they called out their goodbyes but I didn’t stop, instead I pulled her along even harder.

My face was a hard mask as we got into the back of the waiting car. She looked at me out the side of her eye as we drove the short distance through the streets to home, but I didn’t turn to her. I was afraid of what I would do if I did.

As soon as we cleared the door to the apartment I pulled her along to my room. She hadn’t been in there before and I’m sure she wondered at my taking her there now. “Did you have fun today little Kitten?”

I growled the question in her ear as I stood her in front of the floor-length dressing mirror.

Looking over her shoulder into the mirror, I started at the bottom and opened the first button. She stood stock still as my fingers worked to release them one after the other.

I was working out of sync here, this hadn’t been part of my plan, but I had to erase the memory of his hands all over her body from my mind, had to wipe it out of hers.

Her breasts were even more spectacular in the cream silk under the jacket, as it seemed they’d gone all the way and dressed her in a corset of the same period as the riding habit.

One of those hot numbers that cinched the waist and pushed her tits together to form a deep cleavage.

Pulling the tie at the top of her blouse, I pulled the folds back, revealing the skin of her neck and throat.

“Tell me; did you like having his hands on you?” the question came out a little forceful and a lot accusatory. If she’d had any doubts before she knew now that I was one pissed off male.

“I…” Her eyes widened on mine in the mirror as she fumbled, her fingers coming up to her throat. I kept my eyes on hers as I let my hands fall to her thighs where the heavy material of her skirt covered her.

Slowly, with unhurried movements I dragged the skirt up her thighs. I could feel her breath through my chest as it hitched and sped up. Her skin was taking on that pink hue of a blush and I felt the heat of it through my shirt.

When I had the skirt pulled up to just below her hips, exposing the short boots and hosiery that stopped at the top her thighs, my cock jumped.

“Hold it.” She didn’t question me as I pushed the gathered material into her hands, freeing mine to do as I pleased.

I let my fingers play on the skin just above the old fashion woolen thigh high stockings, and when my thumb came in contact with the garter belt I drew in my breath.

Pushing the skirt even higher so my eyes could feast, I took in her wanton image in the mirror. I used my hands to spread her legs wider as I stood behind her looking down.