Hope Olson

Hope Olson

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Hope Olson, Miss October 1976, farm fresh beauty, luscious, and sweet; these are her adventures. Featuring Patti McGuire

Summary

Hope Olson, Miss October 1976, farm fresh beauty, luscious, and sweet; these are her adventures. Featuring Patti McGuire

Chapter4 (v.1) - In a hammock

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 25, 2013

Reads: 455

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 25, 2013

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The sun was intense, bright but not harsh, masked by the occasional cloud. The air was very still, with little humidity, which made the heat pleasant rather than uncomfortable. Perfect weather for getting a tan, or just for lying in a hammock and reading a book.

 

Miss October, Hope Olson was doing just that, on her back in a canvas hammock, limbs spread akimbo as she lazily thumbed through the pages of a trashy romance novel. Her hair, a mass of golden blonde curls that made men stare, spread out across the green canvas in a great, unruly mass. Her feet were bare; her strappy sandals left on the patio when she'd made her way across the neatly trimmed lawn out to the hammock.

 

The lovely girl tried to focus on the brilliant white pages of the Harlequin romance novel. In the book, the heroine, a humble farm girl who married a rich industrialist, was fending off the advances of the stable boy. It was poorly written, fully of plot twists and a badly crafted love triangle. Hope really didn't care; the heat was making her sleepy, and the gentle rocking of the hammock wasn't helping.

 

Sweat beaded on her skin from the afternoon's heat, and she silently thanked whomever for placing the hammock in this isolated spot on the grounds of the Mansion. She silently thanked the sun for its sensual warmth as she undid another button on her sundress.

 

It lay mostly open, held closed by just three buttons. Thin cotton, the color of a summer rose, swirled back down around her waist from her long, lean legs as she raised first one, then the other, to evaluate the progress of her tan. Things appeared to be progressing well; summer in California sure beat winter in Wisconsin.

 

The afternoon's stillness was getting to her, languid heat roasting her body as she lay there reading. Slowly, a wicked idea began to form in her mind. This area of the estate was secluded, and it was only 1:30 in the afternoon. She had ample time to tan before the shoot planned for later. And the publisher was going to watch the shoot she knew. The new tanlines would be a nice treat for him.

 

Besides, the sun felt good on her warm skin. Her body vibrated in the hot grip of the sun and she sighed as if in a lover’s arms. The heat was delicious and she knew she would look so sexy for the shoot.

 

Her decision made, Hope quickly undid the last three buttons, exposing her body to the afternoon sun. She was nude underneath the flimsy cotton dress. The temperature had been at least 85 when she'd come out an hour ago, too warm to wear anything underneath. Her panties, lacy and silky and seductive, were still in the drawer of her dresser where she'd left them, as if she had left another life back in the Mansion just a hundred yards away; There, as Miss October, she had a life of sensual luxury.  Here in the hammock she was Hope Olson again, a farm fresh girl from Prairie de Chien.

 

She came to the Mansion just a short time ago, swept away by an erotic encounter and seduction that transformed this nubile innocent girl into a radiant and vibrant sex goddess. Life at the Mansion was exhilarating but it wasn’t until she had settled down into the snug cocoon of the canvas hammock and the sun’s warm embrace that the pretty playmate realized that she was missing her solitude.

 

She certainly hadn't come out with the intention of sunbathing nude, that was something saved for poolside with the playmates. The Mansion was a sexy playground and she had seemed to cross over into another world when she strolled out beyond the trim lawn to find this verdant private spot. She'd really just intended to read her book and perhaps take a nap. Now, with her lush form exposed to the heat and sun, she felt wonderful. Alone with her thoughts and the caress of the sunshine Hope returned to the nature she loved so much back home.

 

Fresh and sweet as a new blooming flower, the young girl leaned over and retrieved the tanning oil. Even the oil seemed different out here; back in the Mansion the publisher loved to slather her body and drill into her while her slick hot flesh writhed all over him. Here in her solitude the oil was just for her and the sun. Pouring a generous amount onto her stomach, she began to rub it onto her torso. Her supple hands moved up, massaging the oil into her stomach, her breasts, her collarbone, and then down again, to her belly and finally to the warmth of her inner thighs.

 

Back and forth, kneading the warm oil into her skin; mmmmm, the oily pressure felt so good on her soft warm pale flesh. The scent conjured up memories of carnal delights as the viscuous liquid soaked into her creamy skin.  She slowly rubbed it over every inch of her body. At first it was academic, the well-practiced ministrations of someone who knew to avoid sunburn. But soon the oil had been applied where it needed to go, yet her hands continued to move.

 

A new heat began to build.

 

Almost without meaning to, she'd become incredibly aroused by her own touch. It wasn't anything new, she masturbated almost daily after all, but to be here, where even in this secluded spot she couldn’t be seen from the patio, was so brazen. Somehow the combination of the solitude and sun and the sensual tickle of the oil made her arousal seem hot and wicked, even on the grounds of the Playboy Mansion.

 

So wicked.

 

So hot.

 

Hope ran one finger down between her labia, sliding it firmly over her clit, and shivering as the sensation coursed through her body.

 

Wetness flooded her pussy.

 

Slowly she began to stroke herself; her right hand drawing lazy circles across her breasts while her left began stroking up and down. Her soft blonde pubic hair was dewy and glistening, just a delicate patch of curls atop her sex, but everything below that was essentially bare, which gave her fingers ample amounts of highly sensitive skin to stimulate.

 

Every motion, no matter how small, seemed magnified by the circumstances: the warmth of the sun, the intimacy of the shoot later today, the display of her willing body to the camera and the publisher-- could the heat of the studio light be any more arousing than the sun right now, could the publisher’s gaze excite her the way her fingers did now?  The hammock swayed and a soft tantalizing breeze kissed her skin; nature was aroused by her beauty and nature wanted to arouse her desire. This was hers, on display for the world to see, and yet entirely private. Hers alone, yet … more-- the sun was her lover.

 

Hope began to moan, tossing her head back and bucking her hips. The solitude was seducing her.

 

To be fair, she was vaguely aware of the sound of the lawnmower starting.

 

Soon she was getting close, pinching her nipples and licking her lips as her body began building toward an orgasm. The hammock creaked as it rocked in time with her movement. Sweat coated her body, some of it from the heat of the sun, some of it from her own efforts.

 

The sound of the mower got louder, though she didn't really hear it. Besides, the lawn was huge and the hammock was off in a secluded copse of shrubs and trees.

 

Hope began to stroke her clit in earnest. Her nipples were hard and sensitive, coated with oil and burning to be touched. Her mouth was open and yearning, hungry. Her long legs were thrust off to either side, spread open for the world to see like some brazen wood nymph.

 

The sound of the mower had stopped and her ears were filled with the sounds of the breeze, the gentle creaking of the hammock, and her own passionate groans.

 

She was moaning loudly now, and it occurred to her that she sounded like some porn star caught on film, the kind in those movies the publisher liked to screen late at night. When she watched those films she'd been appalled at first at the images of those women, so wanton and needy. Today, however, she could hear herself, almost as if from a great distance, struggling and heaving her pleasure out in a loud, almost audacious frenzy.

 

So close, her body was on fire. Her fingers pistoned in and out of her pussy, her clit throbbing as she drew near. The hammock rocked like a canoe flying over a white water river. Her body shook with pleasure. But still, something was blocking her...something was forcing its way into her thoughts. Something had changed, something demanded her attention. Her orgasm, still so close, faded abruptly, leaving her panting with frustration, her large full breasts heaving as her body tried to return to some state of calm.

 

Hope drew her hands away.

 

"Don't stop on my account."

 

Startled, she sat bolt up right, promptly dumping herself out of the hammock and onto the grass below. The fall wasn't far and only her pride was hurt. Sputtering, Hope climbed to her feet, trying desperately to gather her sundress around her as she looked up to see who'd spoken.

 

It was Jose, the new groundskeeper, dressed only in a tight white t-shirt, jeans, and broken-in work boots. He smelled like gasoline and cut grass, and sweat made the shirt cling to his muscular frame in ways she found intoxicating.

 

"What, what are you doing here?" Some small part of her brain told her that her dress was still everywhere but covering her. But she couldn't quite focus on that at the moment.

 

He smiled. "Just doing my job here, ma’am. Honestly, I didn't think anyone would be here.” He paused, clearly studying the half nude glory of the girl in the shimmering sunlight. “That’s mine.” He gestured towards her.

 

The shock of his claim registered in the flash in her eyes. “The hammock,” he explained and Hope’s tension subsided…a little. “I use it for breaks, you know, and a smoke. I never expected to see anyone. Let alone find you ... like this." There was a definite twinkle in his eye when he said that last part. To her surprise, Hope felt her pussy throb, and she gasped quietly.

 

He raised one eyebrow at this. "Are you alright?"

 

Was she alright?!? Of course not! She was standing there, naked before this handsome man, who might as well have been a stranger, having just been caught in the act of masturbating.

 

She should have been running into the Mansion in humiliation.

 

So why wasn't she?

 

Why was she struck by the sudden desire to sink to her knees and suck on his cock?

 

A long moment passed while she struggled to regain her composure. At last, she recovered enough to draw her dress about her, and looked back at Jose. "Would you like a glass of lemonade?” She pointed to the thermos she had brought out with her. It stood like a guilty witness in the shade near the hammock. “It's the least I can do for you, seeing that you working so hard in this heat."

 

His brown eyes bore into her. "No."

 

"No?"

 

"No."

 

"Well…OK then,” she felt hesitant and vulnerable. "Um, enjoy your day.” She turned to gather her book, hurriedly buttoning the dress again. She felt his eyes staring, burning into her like the summer sun. He'd already seen everything, but there was no need to parade it in front of him. Clearly, however, he'd like what he saw. She could see that from the rather impressive bulge in his pants. “Um, are you sure you don’t want some lemonade?”

 

"No."

 

Why did he keep saying that?

 

"I don't want anything to drink. I want to see you on your knees sucking my cock while you touch yourself like a whore. Like you just did."

 

What?

 

His words thrilled her, but she felt obliged to be modest. She turned to tell him no, only to find him right there in front of her. His shirt was gone and his bronzed chest filled her view.

 

"I can't," she began. He moved closer, gathering her into a fierce kiss that made her knees weak. She imaged herself the heroine of the book she was reading and she let herself swoon.

 

But then his large hand squeezed one of her heaving breasts. "Wait," she backed out of his armed, inflamed and embarrassed and angry all at the same time. Who did he think he was to touch her like that? And why did she like it so much?

 

"What?" A slight smirk told her that he knew what effect he was having on her. Standing there, looking like hired help, yet confident he'd soon be watching her submit to his will.

 

That made her even angrier. Since coming to the Mansion she’d had a sexual awakening and enjoyed many men, even some of the staff, even some women, but to submit to him and his swaggering sneer? His smirk would be there a long time before she'd do that!

 

Her temper blazed rashly. "This, this is not going to happen. How dare you? Just because I’m out here alone and you caught me …well, never mind that-- I thought I was alone, OK, and so you caught me…” She felt herself getting flustered and tongue-tied; what was she trying to say? “So you caught me enjoying myself… and you think that entitles you to ... to ... this ... to me? What do you think I am? You think that just because you happened to catch me like this that somehow you get to fuck me?"

 

She was gesturing with her hands, like she always did when she was excited, and at that final, exasperated "me" she spread her arms down to either side, intending to emphasize her point, but instead releasing the dress, most of which wasn't buttoned, to flap open. Her entire body below her breasts was there on display for him to see.

 

He smiled. "Yes, I think it does."

 

And before she could object, he reached out, grabbed the few buttons she'd managed to close, and pulled. They popped off (not just open, she marveled on some level, but off the dress) and suddenly she was as exposed again as she'd been when he'd first arrived.

 

"What..." she began, but he grabbed her again, kissing her hard and placing one firm hand on her pussy. His index finger slid down between her lips, roughly scoring her hungry clitoris. Hope spasmed from the sudden, welcome intrusion. She was soaked, throbbing with need. Protest all she might, he had his evidence - she wanted this too; her body was hungry with need.

 

Jose released her, slowly drawing his finger back across her, his fierce eyes fixing on hers as he watched her shudder. He brought his hand up to her lips. She could smell her own desire, it was heady and made her even more aroused.

 

"This tells me I am entitled. The fact that you were lying there fucking yourself like some porn star just five minutes ago tells me I am entitled. And for no other reason that I want it, I am entitled."

 

Porn star? He thought of her as a porn star? The thought was wicked and repulsive at the same time. She wasn't a porn star! She was a Playmate for goodness sake. Playmates were on a pedestal.

 

"But more than that, the fact that your boss…our boss," his voice dripped with scorn, making her wonder if some nerve had been touched, “He shows off your body, puts your fine titties in his magazine—that entitles me. I mean posing for pictures is one thing, but Christ, look at you, right here, your body so completely available."

 

"Yes..." she said softly. He had said nothing that made sense but his anger had touched some need inside her. She felt herself leaning closer to him, submitting.

 

He pulled her in closer, her soft curves crushed up against his hard frame. "Sweetheart, you should be fucked hard every night. No exceptions. And I think you know that. And that, most of all, is what entitles me. Isn't it."

 

Hope could only swallow and nod. How did he know?

 

"Kneel." The command snapped her out of her thoughts.

 

"What?"

 

"Kneel." His voice was firm now, and it scared her a little. What if she refused? What would he do?

 

What if she submitted?

 

"No." She turned to go, bending gather her things from the hammock.

 

WHACK! A stinging slap on her ass sent her forward, sprawling into the hammock on her stomach. Her dress flew over her head, blocking her vision as she moved forward, then back with the motion of the hammock.

 

Jose caught her dress on the backswing and let the hammock do the rest; with the skirt balled up in his fist, the forward motion of the sling pulled the dress off her back and her arms, stripping her in a moment. He was so sure of himself, why was she fighting him, she wondered. She wanted this, wanted someone to treat her like a woman, and here it was, the very moment she craved, and she was letting it go?

 

"Wait!" She tried to roll over, to reason with him, but it was too late. As the hammock came back toward him a second time, she felt another stinging slap on her ass. She rocked forward again from the impact, only to return to another, and another. Every time she tried to twist over, he caught her feet and forced her back onto her stomach.

 

Six...seven...eight...nine...

 

"No...no more." She gasped out these words, her posterior aflame from his punishment, but her pussy throbbing as strongly as ever. Somehow, he knew to call her on her indecisiveness. He was forcing her to do his bidding, to be the girl he wanted right then. And despite her embarrassment at being caught, she was thrilled that he'd reduced her to a horny, gasping vixen with just nine spanks on her butt.

 

He caught her feet and brought the hammock to a stop. "Well."

 

Hope rolled over at last, very aware of how her back sagged into the hammock, pushing her pussy up toward him, like some sort of offering.

 

"Please..." She mumbled, not knowing what to say. What could she say? How could she tell him to ravage her? This was all so new.

 

"Please, what?"

 

She bit her lip and looked down. As if to show him her submission, she stretched her languid body over the length of the canvas and popped her pretty little head over the edge, licking her lips suggestively. "You know."

 

"Yes, I do."

 

The hammock was slug low enough that she could snuggle into the warm canvas and be at the perfect height for…for this. She smiled shyly and let him step towards; already he was opening his pants.

 

With one hand he held her head and with the other he lifted up his stiff long cock. She opened wide and, as her soft lips encircled the hard warm shaft, the hammock began to gently rock. One of his arms rested across her chest and caressed the underside of her breasts as the canvas swayed slowly. His other hand guided the rhythm of the rocking by holding her head and sliding her lips over his hard thick shaft. She was floating on air and would have soared to the sun she was so excited, but the thick cock in her mouth pinned her to earth.

 

“Yeah, I like that, baby,” he snarled. “You suck me like you suck the boss.”

 

He didn’t hold out long and soon she was slurping up his ejaculation as the hammock continued to rock, but his anger only grew. “You made me come too soon!” As he scowled he jerked his cock back and pulled her up by her shoulders. Her legs dangled over the side of the hammock and she felt her balance going so she grabbed the edge of the canvas.

 

“Now I gotta fuck you real good,” he growled, lifting her legs and hooking her ankles onto his shoulders. With his palms on the canvas on either side of her hips he held his body straight and rigid and thrust his legs straight out behind him. His body at a 90 degree angle, his weight thrust his pelvis forward and between her thighs. The momentum of the swinging hammock impaled her tender sex onto his cock and she howled with shock.

 

Each time he plunged into her the hammock would fly back and then, as if the earth itself was fucking the delicious girl, the canvas would glide forward to jam the thick long cock deeper into her depths. Hope’s knuckles were white in their tight grip on the edge of the sling and her legs flew in the air so that her plush thighs were caressed by the rough texture of his jeans.

 

When his teeth clamped down on her erect and glowing nipple she let out a scream but her agony faded into bliss as the swaying of the hammock stretched then mashed her creamy flesh over his face. He sucked the hard nipple as if to swallow her whole. But the torture of the other nipple with his hand was even more intense and exhilarating; he twisted it sharply between thumb and finger and the hammock’s rocking massaged the tingling flesh into ecstasy.

 

In and out he pumped into her tight juicy sex and the velocity of their flight elevated each stroke to the power of a pile driver. The sun had shifted so that its rays came through the branches above the hammock and the dappled light flashes were hot kisses on her tingling flesh. In and out he pounded and the rocking lifted her into ecstasy.

 

“Yes, baby, that’s so good,” she cooed softly, stroking Jose’s hair as he drilled her frantically in the rapid swings of the sling. Her orgasm was surprising delicate, a soothing release as warm as the sun’s kisses, a misty flooding rippling over his shaft; her bliss was soft tremors throughout her throbbing body. Then with the hammock at the highest point in its arc, with the dappled sunlight dancing over her moist warm skin, his body stiffened; his feet stretched out on his toes and his body was still at a sharp 90 degree angle pressing the girl into the hammock with his weight even as she balanced precariously. His cock, plunged deep deep into her, jerked like a bucking bronco then spit out in a fierce and wild torrent. He groaned and he filled her with his seed as she closed her eyes in loving gratitude for the heat flooding her depths.  

 

Finally emptied, his legs bent and the hammock floated to its low point in an easy relaxed swoop that matched the slow ease of his shaft withdrawing from her warm honey. The canvas sling swayed gently as she stroked his hair, his head resting on her bare belly, her legs still straddled over his shoulders. “That was real good, baby,” she purred, still feeling his seed burning through her. The flickering shards of sunlight kissed her skin in gratitude; she was warm and filled with love and she radiated a natural purity that rivaled the heat of the sun. “You were so good,” she sighed in contentment.

 

“Yeah well…” he snarled and he stood up abruptly, almost spilling her out of the sling. “We’re not done yet.”

 

With that, he reached into the hammock and scooped her out into his arms. He kissed her briefly and then threw her across his should like a sack of potatoes as he headed for the patio. She went limp, "Jose, what are you going to do now?"

 

"Now," he said with a certainty that made it clear that this was what was going to happen, "I am going to sit on the steps of the boss man’s big fancy mansion and let everybody watch you suck my cock. After that, I am going to take you inside and up to your room. Then I am going to fuck you until you can't come anymore."

 

The Mansion? She sat up sharply at this...or tried to. He held her firmly in place with his strong right arm, and delivered a quick series of three slaps with his left. "This is going to happen. You're going to make it happen. This is what you wanted, after all. Now be still."

 

Hope went limp again, full of apprehension at what was to come, and yet highly aroused.

 

Jose was so unexpected.

 

So forceful.

 

Just what she'd needed.

 

 


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