The Dara Nichols Series 1-8

by Marata Eros

  Dara saw no way out but she hadn't wanted to screw the president of the university. She shook her head.

  “You will say it,” he turned Dara over and slapped her ass and she moaned, opening her legs for him.

  “You are a bad, slutty teacher. Spread your legs and open your pussy for me.”

  Dara did, her own juices mixing with the cum from the men slipping out of her hole. She was so turned on; her pussy pulsating.

  “That's it. Touch yourself.”

  Dara put her fingers around her opening.

  “Finger-fuck your self,” he commanded and Dara put one of her own slender fingers in her pussy, relishing the slick feel of the cum in her tight hole. Her pussy gave a strong pulse around her fingers and she realized that someone had untied her hands and she put another finger in her pussy, starting to move her hips against her own fingers.

  “Did I tell you that you could do yourself with two fingers?” Dara shook her head but continued to fuck her pussy, her orgasm approaching like a freight train.

  Taylor jerked her fingers out of her pussy and lifted her ass off the table, giving her two swats. She ground her heels into the table and lifted her pussy up close to his face and he buried it in her opening, shooting his tongue inside, stabbing her wet center and Dara screamed her pleasure to the room the sound echoing off the walls.

  “Hold her while I fuck her.” He looked at Dara and said, “Say it.”

  “Fuck me,” Dara wailed, her pussy throbbing unmercifully.

  “Fuck me, who?” he said softly.

  “Fuck me, President Taylor,” she said, her hole weeping for his cock.

  “That's better,” he said, pressing her hips on the table he stabbed the whole length of his cock inside her hole at one time and Dara gasped at the thrust, her head thrown back, her hands finding purchase on the table's edge.

  Taylor laughed. “I am fucking her rough, like she deserves.”

  He did. Driving into Dara and reaching the end of her with each thrust, her body slid on the desk until Jason stopped its movement with his hands and cock. He speared her mouth while Taylor drove his cock into her pussy.

  “Tell me I can have your ass too,” Taylor said, his cock pounding her hole.

  “Yes, fuck my ass,” Dara said but Jason had her mouth strangling his cock again.

  “Yes, who?” he asked as he threw back his head, stiffening above her, his cum landing so deep in Dara she could feel it penetrate the opening to her womb. She spread her legs so he could get even deeper, it was almost painful but mixed with pleasure like she'd never had.

  He leaned back from Dara, her pussy pulsating and open. “This is the time to really fuck her hard, boys. Her hole is open and ready.”

  Ryan came between her legs and she began to close them, she didn't think that she could manage that kind of pounding with his cock. She had already been so opened up deep from Taylor's cock.

  “I want to spear that hole, I want my balls in her pussy,” Ryan said.

  Dara shook her head around Jason's cock but he came above her, pressing her mouth on him deep, her lips meeting the base of his shaft, as Ryan began shoving his cock in her pussy. He was going too far, his tip hitting that small hole up deep inside her pussy as she struggled not to split in two, swallowing cum as she spread her legs to support his grinding shaft.

  The men were spurring him on, “Come on, get it all the way!” she heard Taylor say.

  Jason slipped out of her mouth and her body moved with the pounding as Ryan said, “I've never gotten this deep in a pussy before.” With one last thrust he came in Dara and she shrieked, her pain/pleasure center lit up as her legs trembled and she came hard around the thick cock that was buried deep inside her. Dara was breathing hard her face was flushed and her limbs heavy.

  Taylor was good to his word, turning her over, he gave her another light swat and she moaned, pressing her palms onto the tabletop in front of her and shoving her ass up in the sky toward him.

  “So eager,” he began. “she will take my cock in her ass like she did in her pussy.” Dara felt Taylor begin to fuck her slick hole, getting it nice and lubed. He quickly withdrew it and began shoving it into her tight ass and she worked against him, shimmying her hips against him until the whole of his cock was buried in her.

  Sean appeared at the head of the table. Climbing atop it he slid underneath Dara. As Taylor shoved his cock in her ass Dara's mouth salivated thinking about Sean's positioning and what that meant for her.

  She was obviously being primed for a double penetration.

  She threw her knees to the side as Taylor drove his cock in her ass and Ryan stood in front of her, jacking-off, his horse-cock making a meaty sound in his own large hand as he gripped and stroked it.

  Taylor allowed Sean to guide himself to her opening and as Taylor rocked himself against her, Sean shoved his cock deep inside Dara on his backstroke.

  The two of them worked in unison and Dara could feel that deep pressure building again as both her holes filled with cock, the friction scratching that itch deep inside. She got quiet, her head lowered, her breasts swinging in front of Sean's face. One of the other men grabbed her tits, mounding and pinching them lightly as they swung with the motion of her holes getting fucked.

  Taylor grabbed a fistful of her deep red hair, jerking her head back, driving his prick in her ass without mercy he said, “Say you love my cock in your ass. Say it!” he growled out.

  “I love your cock in my ass, President Taylor,” Dara howled as she came, her pussy quivering, the deep pulsing permeating the flesh of her ass and pussy.

  “Fuck, that's hot!” Sean said, spraying his cum deep into her hole.

  Taylor smacked her ass again. “That was nice,” he said, slipping out of Dara's wet ass.

  Sean moved out from under Dara and laid her down on the table. Dara couldn't move, her legs trembled from the biggest orgasm of her life and even when Taylor's fingers began to find her pussy and fuck her slick hole she couldn't be bothered to move.

  “Look, the naughty teacher is all tuckered-out,” he said, his fingers driving deeply into her.

  It felt good for him to fuck her pussy. Dara couldn't believe she still felt like she could be fucked more. But the rhythm of those fingers made her itch to have just one more cock. She moved so she was on her back and let her legs fall open.

  All the men stared at her hole full of their cum.

  Dara put her hand to her pussy, feeling Taylor's fingers slide in and out of her. “Who hasn't had my pussy?” she asked, her breathing quickening with the sliding of his hand.

  Jason was beating off, his cock a stiff shaft. “I'm getting close. It'd be great to just stuff it in there and come...” he trailed off, the cords in his neck standing at attention.

  The other men dragged Dara to the edge of the table, her naked parts flush with the edge.

  Jason slammed his hand up and down his cock, bending over her he shoved it in her pussy, one stroke, two, then a hard third and he blew his wad deep in her hole, cum shooting deep inside her.

  Dara groaned, knowing it was just what she'd wanted. Jason fell on top of her, breathing heavily.

  Finally, he moved off her and Dara lay there, satiated. Ryan bundled her up and wrapped her up against him and she smiled.

  President Craig Taylor gave a chuckle. “This is how we discipline unruly professors at this university, Ms. Nichols. See that you don't step out of line again. The next time the punishment will be far more severe.”

  The look on his face made her pussy get wet again.

  She was all for it. She wanted a paddling. “I can't wait,” Dara said, smiling.

  #

  This is an erotic and fictitious story. Please practice safe sex in the real world.

  The Four Whoresmen

  Volume 5

  Copyright 2011 Marata Eros

  Smashwords Edition

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this pub
lication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved.

  Edited by Hazel Novak

  CHAPTER 1

  Dara carefully gathered her toiletries off her vanity, her finger pressed between her teeth. She chewed on it lightly. Did she have everything? She glanced at her bed where her small suitcase lay open. Long pants, check. Boot with heels, check. Lightweight jacket, check. Sexy lingerie that was completely impractical, double-check.

  She popped her finger out of her mouth and strode to the case putting the essentials inside the top compartment and rolling up all her things into tight fitting sausage links so that she could get the fun stuff inside.

  Like a slinky dress in case some occasion that sprang up requiring one.

  Dara liked to be prepared.

  She let her hand run down the folds of the garment, supposedly no- wrinkle. It was the deepest shimmering aqua, not a perfect fit for the weather as first term was well underway and things had gotten cooler. She glanced out her bedroom window at the trees which flamed against an azure sky. But she would not be wearing it outdoors. Shrugging, she put it back in the suitcase and with a final glance zipped it up.

  Hoisting it off the bed she made her way to the front door and glanced at her reflection in the hallway mirror. She had swept all her long, dark auburn hair off her face and wrapped it in a bun of sorts, driving a jeweled hair-stick through the core of it. It would have to do. She had a long trip ahead of her and looked forward to the mini-holiday.

  It hadn't been easy. President Taylor had insisted on a protracted discussion about her taking some time off. In the end, however, Dara had gotten her way.

  She smiled, thinking about the punishment she'd received for asking, shivering at the memory. One more look told Dara that she was as prepared as she was going to be. Her green blouse tucked into tight-fitting black jeans that flared at the knee and hit the instep of her high-heeled boot perfectly.

  She locked the door behind her and put the luggage inside the trunk, along with her laptop. Who knew? Maybe she'd get work done while she was there? Dara's good friend Zoe had said the ranch was the ultimate, high-octane getaway. The food was great, the horses were magnificent, the grounds sublime...and best of all, anonymity. Dara could stand some of that. Her students were following her around like she was a bitch in heat and a little break and some unknown male attention would not be unwelcome. Maybe she didn't need her laptop after all. She deliberated, rolling her lip inside her mouth and biting. Nah... she slammed the trunk and got behind the wheel.

  *

  The gray ribbon of road stretched forever in front of Dara and the city fell away behind her. She drove on and the car climbed into the mountains, the golden leaves waving in the breeze of the Indian summer, the wind crisp, the sky a deep sapphire. The signs made it easy to navigate. They were posted at the margin of the road about every five miles. Finally she saw the entrance to the ranch, which read:

  Four Horsemen Ranch

  Huh, Dara thought, looking at the pamphlet and seeing the name emblazoned on the front, she read the blurb that Zoe had excitedly pointed out;

  Join us in the pristine wilderness and experience a once-in-a-lifetime adventure.

  Dara flipped the pamphlet over but it wasn't littered with the activities that Zoe had extolled. She looked at the split rail fence which terminated on either side of the road. There was an entrance formed of stout log poles which were twenty feet high. Dangling from a horizontal pole was a swinging sign bearing the name of the ranch. Dara took her foot off the brake and the car slid forward, traveling through the entrance.

  CHAPTER 2

  The road wound, a green swath of grass caressing the undercarriage of Dara's car. She stopped at the top of a circular drive where a low-slung, one story house sat hugging the knoll.

  An older man came out of the house, his weathered face ruggedly handsome, one large hand holding a bridle as he strode over to the car.

  Dara stepped out, flashing him a smile and hurried to the back of her car to get her things but he beat her to it.

  “No. You let me get your belongings.”

  “Why thank you...?” she cocked an eyebrow.

  “Duke's the name and you must be Dara?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  Dara got a good look at him. His face was somewhat hooded by the cowboy hat that crowned his head like it was meant for him, black as night, deep brown hair peeking out from underneath. Dara watched as he hefted the suitcase out of the trunk and admired the flexing and bunching of his forearms as he easily worked it out of the confined space. It had taken her some time putting it inside the trunk. She had ended up swinging it and using her momentum to shove it in there.

  “There we are,” Duke slammed the trunk and handed her the laptop. “I hope you don't plan on doing any work here?”

  She waved her hand at her laptop. “No, but I thought that maybe I'd need to send out an email or two...” Dara trailed off and Duke's brows came down over his eyes. “No service here, Miss. You'll have to use the one phone we have in the house in case of emergency.”

  Dara was a little alarmed, she rifled around in her coat pocket looking for her cell and flipped it open.

  One bar. Damn.

  Duke's eyes crinkled at the corners which made him look younger. His face was weathered, like he'd spent time in the sun. Maybe he was only in his 40s. He was certainly built well, Dara couldn't help but notice, all lean and muscled from work you did for your job, not artificial work in the gym.

  “You won't need a phone here. As I recall, that little filly that visited us last year... your friend...” he said, trying to remember her name.

  “Zoe,” Dara offered.

  He snapped his fingers and pointed. “That's her.”

  “She was so busy with the happenings around here that she never thought once about her phone, I guarantee you,” he said as he crossed strong arms over his chest, a Mona Lisa smile hovering at his lips.

  Dara opened her mouth to add something when three young men that looked remarkably alike walked toward Dara with purpose and she could feel her tongue nervously lick her lip. Duke watched her movement with interest.

  “Dad, why is the bridle on the ground here?” Duke's son asked.

  “Can't you see that I am getting the lady's things?” Duke said with a partial rebuff.

  All eyes swung to Dara, taking in her city attire.

  She guessed she wasn't dressed for horseback riding.

  “Dad, she's all dressed for the city.”

  Duke was nodding. Turning to Dara he said, “You received the list of clothing?”

  Dara nodded but before she could speak he began introductions. Turning to the young man that had picked up the bridle he said, “This is my youngest, Jeff. He just turned twenty-three,” Jeff rolled his eyes and Dara was struck by how much he resembled Duke with his dark hair and eyes, their builds similar. “And my eldest son, Hank,” a tall man with dark hair and hazel eyes, “and the middle boy, Dave.” Dave was the middle of the three boys but stood taller than the others, with a shock of hair so similar in color to Dara's they could have been related.

  But clearly they weren't, Dara thought, eying the young men up and finding them all that the ranch had promised and more. Of course, Dara knew that horseback riding and being one with nature was the supposed draw. As she watched, however, Dara thought maybe there'd be more to the ranch than horses.

  The sons looked all looked under thirty and Dara was trying to pay attention to Duke as he explained the routine. “How long were you fixin' to stay on with us?”
he asked.

  But it was Dave, the tallest son that said, “She's booked for four days and three nights.”

  Duke nodded, palming his chin thoughtfully. “We have any other guests to share her with?”

  Dara stumbled at his choice of words and Jeff latched on to her elbow immediately, the heat from his hand climbing up to her shoulder and radiating through the rest of her body like fire. His eyes met hers and they were excited but uncertain. She smiled back at him and his grip tightened once then he let her free.

  “Nope. No other guests,” Hank said, casting a sideways glance her way.

  Dara was thinking that Zoe had left out some critical details. Such as maybe she wouldn't be riding horses.

  Hank had been doing more talking but the sons had surrounded Dara and she was completely distracted by their nearness. She could smell the outdoors, their cologne and their essential maleness. It wasn't until Duke called her name from ahead that she realized she'd fallen behind, flanked by the brothers.

  Dara looked at Duke with a start and he gave a short chuckle. “Jeff, show Ms. Nichols her accommodations.”

  Dara was a little uneasy. She was clearly out of her element here in the country surrounded by ranch hands, not another person in sight, three long days ahead of her.

  Jeff took her by the arm and she followed him to a bedroom at the far end of the house.

  Where was their mother? Dara thought, not seeing a woman's touch anywhere.

  They arrived at the end of the hall and stood together in front of the door. Jeff leaned toward Dara until he was kissing distance and turned the knob, pushing the door inward and Dara laughed nervously while Jeff's eyes traveled to her mouth and her breath caught in her throat.