Savagely Grateful

Angelina stood in the light of the open door, her naked body wet with rain, her chest heaving, her eyes innocent sapphire pools as they stared into the small one-room cabin. The look of shock on the face of the hunky farmer inside at seeing her temporarily over rode what Angelina assumed was a typical state of decorum. His eyes ravaged her body, the gaze as tactile to her as any lover’s fingers, and she shuddered, her thighs parting to let some of the cold rain course down her body to her overheated mound. It was only after drinking in the sight of this flawless beauty that the owner of the cabin blushed deeply and looked away.

“Ummmm,” the farmer said, trying to not look at Angelina and failing with every fiber of his body. He turned sideways and looked quickly around his home, giving the succubus an amazing view of his ass and tented crotch at the same time. He quickly turned and took two paces in, beckoning the beauty inside as he did so. Angelina slunk inside the door and propped herself against it, spreading her legs and putting her hands on her knees under the guise of catching her breath.

“Here!” the farmer shouted, ending his search. He produced a cotton blanket, the forest green thread almost worn through in spots, but still intact for the most part. He handed it to Angelina and she accepted it, looking confused. “To uh, to cover yourself, m’lady,” he stammered.

Angelina felt herself blush; she didn’t expect to be treated with such respect and it turned her on as only few things could. The heat coming from her cunt was unbearable, an itch inside her needed to be scratched. She used every ounce of will she had to not pleasure herself then and there in front of the farmer.

“I’m Paul,” he said, the blush still not fading from his skin. He moved to the small fire place of the cabin and he moved his kettle into the flame, heating what smelled like rabbit stew.

“I’m Angelina, and I am in your debt, kind sir,” she said courteously, curtseying as she spoke, making sure to have the blanket spread around her thighs, the opening giving him a perfect view of her crimson trimmed pussy. She noted with delight that his eyes went exactly where she wanted them to, and she felt her walls clench with need. “If there is anything I can do, sir, simply let me know and you shall have me. You have saved my life,” she said with a wink. Angelina stood up, not bothering to draw the blanket closed. She felt it tickle her nipples as she stepped forward and let it fall from her shoulders, the cold dampness of her hair exciting her skin where it touched her in the absence of the blanket.

“Anything,” the famer said as if the thought kept echoing in his brain as he stepped toward the nubile creature in his home. Angelina licked her lip as she watched his cock rise in his pants, tenting the thin material. He blushed again and Angelina giggled, biting her lower lip and allowing her almost too-white teeth to show as she did.

“Anything at all, m’lord,” she said huskily and took a step forward.