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If one wanted to observe the embodiment of the term, ‘built like a brick shithouse,’ then Ratchet would be the perfect example. Six feet four tall, he was broad in every aspect of his physique, and facial features. Ratchet’s real name was Richard, and he was a diesel mechanic. He got the nickname as result of a malapropism at technical college, when one of his fellow students’ referred to him in error, as Ratchet. Everyone guffawed at the time, but as is so often the case, the nickname stuck.
At the age of twenty-five, Ratchet found himself in the employment of a wealthy farmer. Mr Harris owned several farms in the district, and decided to employ Ratchet on a full time basis, to service and maintain his equipment on the farm. Mr Harris had appropriated Ratchet from the garage in their small town, which serviced the entire district. Along with all the local farmers, Mr Harris had grown tired of the poorly run service centre, and took matters into his own hands.
Mr Harris constructed a huge workshop, on the road that led to his residence, about two hundred yards before the main house. This was so that the other farmers seeking Ratchet’s services wouldn’t have to pass by Mr Harris’ home. In no time the investment paid for itself, and Ratchet was not only kept fairly busy, but generating a good income.
Ratchet’s quarters were located above the workshop. A spacious apartment had been constructed in what was essentially a loft, and accessed by a wooden staircase. It was well furnished, with all the amenities Ratchet could possibly want. As part of his remuneration package was concerned, even Ratchet’s weekly groceries were supplied by Mr Harris. The provisions were always delivered to Ratchet at around ten-thirty on Wednesdays, by Laura, Mr Harris young wife.
Mr Harris was well into his fifties, and his first wife had passed away four years before. Mr Harris married the twenty-three year old Laura, three years later. Laura was beautiful, had an hourglass figure. She was a total wallet-missile, and the unofficial chairperson of the; ‘rather be an old man’s lover, than a young man’s slave,’ club. Although not rude, she had a slightly haughty demeanour with all the staff in Mr Harris’ employ. Being younger than Mr Harris’ sons, naturally a few eyebrows were lifted once Laura moved in.
Ratchet had the hots for Laura. He would have liked nothing better, than to grip hold of her and throw her over the solid wooden table in his workshop, before fucking the hell out of her. Ratchet had a rather misogynistic attitude towards women, and was only interested in one part on a woman’s body; that segment located several inches below their bellybuttons.
On Saturday evenings Ratchet frequented a bar in town, along with all the other rednecks in the district. There they would all shuffle around to country music, supplied by a local band. He mostly got lucky on Saturdays, but the females were usually desperate cougars, and well passed their sell by dates. Although he dreamt about Laura, he knew she was beyond his reach, and therefore had to be contented with his pick-ups at the bar.
One Monday evening, however, Ratchet’s luck turned when Mr Harris was away on a business trip. Ratchet had run out of milk, and decided to visit the main house to get a carton. As he approached the homestead, he saw a faint beam of light emanating from what he supposed was the main bedroom. On an impulse he decided to take a peak, hopeful that he might get a glimpse of Laura naked. What he saw was a lot more than he bargained for. Laura was indeed naked, and was lying on her bed being fucked by Gareth, one of the farm hands. A broad smile broke out on Ratchets face as he observed the lovers. As he rubbed his knob, he knew that he just been handed a golden ticket to Laura’s pussy. He walked home, practically salivating at the thought of his Wednesday delivery.
Lying on his bed that evening, he played with his thick cock, before contentedly shooting a load all over his hairy chest.
Ratchet had three genitals features that set him apart from other men. Firstly, his dick was very thick, with a huge mushroom head. Secondly, he also had an above average sized piss-slit, and could push his little finger into the hole up to the second knuckle. With his forth finger inserted in the slit, he could then caress the bulbous head of his dick with his thumb. Thirdly, Ratchet also had one oversized ball the size of a large orange, which gave his ball-sac a strange appearance. The sluts that he picked up at the bar were mesmerised by his equipment.
On Wednesday, ‘Miss Prissy’ arrived at her normal time, and after they unloaded the packets from her pickup, Ratchet asked if she minded him asking her a question.
“What?” She queried, in a slightly exasperated tone.
Ratchet decided to go straight for the jugular. “Does your husband know Gareth is fucking you?”
It was as if a plug had been pulled out of an inflatable toy. Doe eyed, she looked at him with a frightened expression. Her haughtiness completely melted in that instant. “What… what do you want?” she apprehensively asked.
“Your pussy,” he countered, without missing a beat.
After observing him for several seconds she spoke, “Name your price… Tell me how much money you want?”
Ratchet laughed. “I don’t want you money, I want your cunt,” he stated, as he groped the front of his trousers.
Transfixed, she just stood there, as he moved towards her. Grabbing hold of her wrist he moved her towards the wooden table. A thick folded blanket had been placed over the edge of the table, in anticipation of her visit. As she whimpered in protest, her torso was pushed down. Behind her, he pulled up her dress before placing both thumbs, in either side of her panties. In a swift motion, Ratchet pulled his thumbs outwards ripping her underwear apart. His sullied right hand immediately cupped her cunt, as her legs were pushed apart. “Please… please… nooo,” she begged.
With his left hand firmly holding her down, Ratchet’s right hand moved from her pussy and commenced smacking her backside. After five hefty slaps on either side he said, “There are three things you need to know. Firstly, this pussy now belongs to me. Secondly, your relationship with Gareth has just ended, and when your husband goes away in future you’ll be in my bed. Thirdly, from now on, you, and not you maid, will be bringing me my sandwiches at ten o’clock every day... Are we clear on this?”
“Yes,” she replied meekly, fully comprehending the devastation that Ratchet could cause her.
“Good, now it’s time to introduce your pussy to its new best friend,” he declared.
With one hand still holding her down, the other unlatched the clasps of his dungarees. Ratchet never wore underwear, and presently his knob boldly pushed up against her portal. He looked down, watching his knob-head nudging it way between her pussy lips. ‘No more stretched out cougar cunts for me,’ he thought with delight. Then, with both her arms pinned he rapidly entered her. As she gasped, he groaned with satisfaction. ‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘now you belong to me.’
Wide-eyed, Laura evaluated a far larger knob than she had ever had inside her. Strangely, the slaps had sexually excited and relaxed her. ‘Maybe, I underestimated this grease monkey,’ she thought. ‘Oh god… yes, this really feels very good,’ her thoughts continued as she began groaning with pleasure.
Once all in, Ratchet held still for a short while. As he sensed her pleasure, he knew she was succumbing to his control. ‘This bitch is in heaven. Fuck yeah… She’ll be begging me for my thick cock from here on… Time to start pounding,’ his mind concluded. Lifting her left leg for maximum access, Ratchet began thrusting into her. Then he slowly began to lift her torso, before pulling her dress up, and over her head. With his hairy left arm wrapped around her he clamped onto her right breast. With Laura firmly secured, Ratchet commenced thumping into her.
After a short while his right arm moved around her body, before his middle finger located her nub. As his rough finger frenziedly began rubbing her clit, Laura started howling with pleasure. Locked in his embrace she could smell his masculinity, over-laced with the smell of workshop grease. The entire scenario was overwhelming her, and when he sensed her impending orgasm he really banged his cock into her. As Laura cried out in the throes of climax, he pushed her body down and hammered her cunt mercilessly. He came shortly after, aggressively pumping his cum into her pussy.
Laura had not ever experienced anything like this before, and knew that she would never again be satisfied, by the wimp-like lovemaking skills of her husband or Gareth.
Turning around, Laura observed the magnificent uncut pussy-pounder that had just tamed her. ‘Fuck… he’s huge,’ she thought totally mesmerised. The arrogant smirk on Ratchet’s face further excited her. They just stared at one another, panting in an atmosphere of post coital animalistic gratification.
“I’m not done with you yet,” Ratchet growled as he stepped out of his dungarees. Walking towards her, he lifted her body back onto the blanket. Pushing her torso backwards, he ordered her to hold her legs wide apart for him. Ratchet was still rock-hard, and lightly began bouncing his knob on her pussy. Then, taking a firm hold of his dick he gave her pussy-lips an almighty slap. Instinctively, she closed her legs. “Don’t ever close your legs again,” he snarled. “This stuck-up cunt of yours needs to be taught a lesson,” he concluded. Gingerly, she once again opened her legs for him.
Laura howled as his cock spanked her vulva. “Now you know your place bitch,” he intoned as he meted out his discipline. Laura had never felt more excited or alive as she received her punishment. Her sex life had just been taken to a heavenly level that she had never even dreamt of. Her complete submission was exhilarating her, beyond comprehension. After placing his knob at her portal Ratchet gripped onto her thighs, and pulling her onto his dick, impaled her forcefully. Laura cried out in bliss as her began to thump her cunt.
Sensing Laura’s impending orgasm Ratchet’s rough thumb located her clitoris, before her began flicking at the nub. There are no words, to describe the sounds that now emanated from Laura as her body writhed in ecstasy. Before Ratchet erupted he pulled his cock out of her, and sprayed her torso with an abundance of his spunk.
As Laura walked back to her home, the only thought in her mind was delivering Ratchet’s sandwiches, the following day.
A week or so later, Mr Harris spent the night away on a business trip. At around seven-thirty that evening she made her way to the workshop. As she entered Ratchet was wiping his grease stained hands on a dirty cloth. He looked even grubbier than normal. Observing her he said, “Get your arse upstairs… I want you naked on the bed when I get up there.”
As she lay on the bed, she couldn’t wait to hear his approaching footsteps. Minutes later, she smiled as she heard Ratchet stomping up the stairs. Looking at her like an animal about to feast on its prey, he removed his footwear and dungarees. Mounting her body Ratchet began kissing her. He had never done so before, and Laura was surprised by this new development. Like his fucking, his kissing was also very rough. He attacked her mouth with ferocity and she would have to explain her reddened lower features to her husband the following day, when he returned home. Her excuse was that she had acquired a new cream, that hadn’t agreed with her skin type.
Ratchet fucked her senseless that night. He was all over her like a rash, and she loved every second of his attention. The heady smell, of his large odorous frame completely intoxicated he olfactory senses. She spent a night in nirvana, with her bulky oppressor banging the life out of her. Every fibre of her being was enveloped, by the animalistic presence of her controller. Laura felt like a captured slave, willingly serving her masters every whim. Ratchet thrived on his dominance, having finally enslaved the object of his desire.
Laura made her way back to her home in the early hours of the following morning. After she showered she smiled, before passing out totally sated.
At the age of twenty-five, Ratchet found himself in the employment of a wealthy farmer. Mr Harris owned several farms in the district, and decided to employ Ratchet on a full time basis, to service and maintain his equipment on the farm. Mr Harris had appropriated Ratchet from the garage in their small town, which serviced the entire district. Along with all the local farmers, Mr Harris had grown tired of the poorly run service centre, and took matters into his own hands.
Mr Harris constructed a huge workshop, on the road that led to his residence, about two hundred yards before the main house. This was so that the other farmers seeking Ratchet’s services wouldn’t have to pass by Mr Harris’ home. In no time the investment paid for itself, and Ratchet was not only kept fairly busy, but generating a good income.
Ratchet’s quarters were located above the workshop. A spacious apartment had been constructed in what was essentially a loft, and accessed by a wooden staircase. It was well furnished, with all the amenities Ratchet could possibly want. As part of his remuneration package was concerned, even Ratchet’s weekly groceries were supplied by Mr Harris. The provisions were always delivered to Ratchet at around ten-thirty on Wednesdays, by Laura, Mr Harris young wife.
Mr Harris was well into his fifties, and his first wife had passed away four years before. Mr Harris married the twenty-three year old Laura, three years later. Laura was beautiful, had an hourglass figure. She was a total wallet-missile, and the unofficial chairperson of the; ‘rather be an old man’s lover, than a young man’s slave,’ club. Although not rude, she had a slightly haughty demeanour with all the staff in Mr Harris’ employ. Being younger than Mr Harris’ sons, naturally a few eyebrows were lifted once Laura moved in.
Ratchet had the hots for Laura. He would have liked nothing better, than to grip hold of her and throw her over the solid wooden table in his workshop, before fucking the hell out of her. Ratchet had a rather misogynistic attitude towards women, and was only interested in one part on a woman’s body; that segment located several inches below their bellybuttons.
On Saturday evenings Ratchet frequented a bar in town, along with all the other rednecks in the district. There they would all shuffle around to country music, supplied by a local band. He mostly got lucky on Saturdays, but the females were usually desperate cougars, and well passed their sell by dates. Although he dreamt about Laura, he knew she was beyond his reach, and therefore had to be contented with his pick-ups at the bar.
One Monday evening, however, Ratchet’s luck turned when Mr Harris was away on a business trip. Ratchet had run out of milk, and decided to visit the main house to get a carton. As he approached the homestead, he saw a faint beam of light emanating from what he supposed was the main bedroom. On an impulse he decided to take a peak, hopeful that he might get a glimpse of Laura naked. What he saw was a lot more than he bargained for. Laura was indeed naked, and was lying on her bed being fucked by Gareth, one of the farm hands. A broad smile broke out on Ratchets face as he observed the lovers. As he rubbed his knob, he knew that he just been handed a golden ticket to Laura’s pussy. He walked home, practically salivating at the thought of his Wednesday delivery.
Lying on his bed that evening, he played with his thick cock, before contentedly shooting a load all over his hairy chest.
Ratchet had three genitals features that set him apart from other men. Firstly, his dick was very thick, with a huge mushroom head. Secondly, he also had an above average sized piss-slit, and could push his little finger into the hole up to the second knuckle. With his forth finger inserted in the slit, he could then caress the bulbous head of his dick with his thumb. Thirdly, Ratchet also had one oversized ball the size of a large orange, which gave his ball-sac a strange appearance. The sluts that he picked up at the bar were mesmerised by his equipment.
On Wednesday, ‘Miss Prissy’ arrived at her normal time, and after they unloaded the packets from her pickup, Ratchet asked if she minded him asking her a question.
“What?” She queried, in a slightly exasperated tone.
Ratchet decided to go straight for the jugular. “Does your husband know Gareth is fucking you?”
It was as if a plug had been pulled out of an inflatable toy. Doe eyed, she looked at him with a frightened expression. Her haughtiness completely melted in that instant. “What… what do you want?” she apprehensively asked.
“Your pussy,” he countered, without missing a beat.
After observing him for several seconds she spoke, “Name your price… Tell me how much money you want?”
Ratchet laughed. “I don’t want you money, I want your cunt,” he stated, as he groped the front of his trousers.
Transfixed, she just stood there, as he moved towards her. Grabbing hold of her wrist he moved her towards the wooden table. A thick folded blanket had been placed over the edge of the table, in anticipation of her visit. As she whimpered in protest, her torso was pushed down. Behind her, he pulled up her dress before placing both thumbs, in either side of her panties. In a swift motion, Ratchet pulled his thumbs outwards ripping her underwear apart. His sullied right hand immediately cupped her cunt, as her legs were pushed apart. “Please… please… nooo,” she begged.
With his left hand firmly holding her down, Ratchet’s right hand moved from her pussy and commenced smacking her backside. After five hefty slaps on either side he said, “There are three things you need to know. Firstly, this pussy now belongs to me. Secondly, your relationship with Gareth has just ended, and when your husband goes away in future you’ll be in my bed. Thirdly, from now on, you, and not you maid, will be bringing me my sandwiches at ten o’clock every day... Are we clear on this?”
“Yes,” she replied meekly, fully comprehending the devastation that Ratchet could cause her.
“Good, now it’s time to introduce your pussy to its new best friend,” he declared.
With one hand still holding her down, the other unlatched the clasps of his dungarees. Ratchet never wore underwear, and presently his knob boldly pushed up against her portal. He looked down, watching his knob-head nudging it way between her pussy lips. ‘No more stretched out cougar cunts for me,’ he thought with delight. Then, with both her arms pinned he rapidly entered her. As she gasped, he groaned with satisfaction. ‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘now you belong to me.’
Wide-eyed, Laura evaluated a far larger knob than she had ever had inside her. Strangely, the slaps had sexually excited and relaxed her. ‘Maybe, I underestimated this grease monkey,’ she thought. ‘Oh god… yes, this really feels very good,’ her thoughts continued as she began groaning with pleasure.
Once all in, Ratchet held still for a short while. As he sensed her pleasure, he knew she was succumbing to his control. ‘This bitch is in heaven. Fuck yeah… She’ll be begging me for my thick cock from here on… Time to start pounding,’ his mind concluded. Lifting her left leg for maximum access, Ratchet began thrusting into her. Then he slowly began to lift her torso, before pulling her dress up, and over her head. With his hairy left arm wrapped around her he clamped onto her right breast. With Laura firmly secured, Ratchet commenced thumping into her.
After a short while his right arm moved around her body, before his middle finger located her nub. As his rough finger frenziedly began rubbing her clit, Laura started howling with pleasure. Locked in his embrace she could smell his masculinity, over-laced with the smell of workshop grease. The entire scenario was overwhelming her, and when he sensed her impending orgasm he really banged his cock into her. As Laura cried out in the throes of climax, he pushed her body down and hammered her cunt mercilessly. He came shortly after, aggressively pumping his cum into her pussy.
Laura had not ever experienced anything like this before, and knew that she would never again be satisfied, by the wimp-like lovemaking skills of her husband or Gareth.
Turning around, Laura observed the magnificent uncut pussy-pounder that had just tamed her. ‘Fuck… he’s huge,’ she thought totally mesmerised. The arrogant smirk on Ratchet’s face further excited her. They just stared at one another, panting in an atmosphere of post coital animalistic gratification.
“I’m not done with you yet,” Ratchet growled as he stepped out of his dungarees. Walking towards her, he lifted her body back onto the blanket. Pushing her torso backwards, he ordered her to hold her legs wide apart for him. Ratchet was still rock-hard, and lightly began bouncing his knob on her pussy. Then, taking a firm hold of his dick he gave her pussy-lips an almighty slap. Instinctively, she closed her legs. “Don’t ever close your legs again,” he snarled. “This stuck-up cunt of yours needs to be taught a lesson,” he concluded. Gingerly, she once again opened her legs for him.
Laura howled as his cock spanked her vulva. “Now you know your place bitch,” he intoned as he meted out his discipline. Laura had never felt more excited or alive as she received her punishment. Her sex life had just been taken to a heavenly level that she had never even dreamt of. Her complete submission was exhilarating her, beyond comprehension. After placing his knob at her portal Ratchet gripped onto her thighs, and pulling her onto his dick, impaled her forcefully. Laura cried out in bliss as her began to thump her cunt.
Sensing Laura’s impending orgasm Ratchet’s rough thumb located her clitoris, before her began flicking at the nub. There are no words, to describe the sounds that now emanated from Laura as her body writhed in ecstasy. Before Ratchet erupted he pulled his cock out of her, and sprayed her torso with an abundance of his spunk.
As Laura walked back to her home, the only thought in her mind was delivering Ratchet’s sandwiches, the following day.
A week or so later, Mr Harris spent the night away on a business trip. At around seven-thirty that evening she made her way to the workshop. As she entered Ratchet was wiping his grease stained hands on a dirty cloth. He looked even grubbier than normal. Observing her he said, “Get your arse upstairs… I want you naked on the bed when I get up there.”
As she lay on the bed, she couldn’t wait to hear his approaching footsteps. Minutes later, she smiled as she heard Ratchet stomping up the stairs. Looking at her like an animal about to feast on its prey, he removed his footwear and dungarees. Mounting her body Ratchet began kissing her. He had never done so before, and Laura was surprised by this new development. Like his fucking, his kissing was also very rough. He attacked her mouth with ferocity and she would have to explain her reddened lower features to her husband the following day, when he returned home. Her excuse was that she had acquired a new cream, that hadn’t agreed with her skin type.
Ratchet fucked her senseless that night. He was all over her like a rash, and she loved every second of his attention. The heady smell, of his large odorous frame completely intoxicated he olfactory senses. She spent a night in nirvana, with her bulky oppressor banging the life out of her. Every fibre of her being was enveloped, by the animalistic presence of her controller. Laura felt like a captured slave, willingly serving her masters every whim. Ratchet thrived on his dominance, having finally enslaved the object of his desire.
Laura made her way back to her home in the early hours of the following morning. After she showered she smiled, before passing out totally sated.
Vicky
- 23.12.2022
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