by LoveBeauregarde16 12/06/13
It wasn't enough that old uncle what's his name was being given his final send off. They had to spend an otherwise delightful road trip in the pouring rain, thought Carla Potts, Lonnie and Cheek's 29 year old daughter, as she sat dozing in the car's front seat. She wasn't really interested in going to the funeral. There was no DNA between her and the dead guy. It was a Statler family connection. She only came along to go shopping in the "big city". She ordinarily spent as little time with the Statlers as possible. Why her distant sister-in-law, Cathy, was so eager to get her father introduced to them, Carla couldn't begin to guess.
She knew her husband, Bill, would be sprawled out on the king sized bed at home now that she was not there to crowd him over to one side. She was slightly irritated that one of her traveling companions was smoking in the back seat. If only the Reverend Ben Statler could crack the window a little to let the smoke out back there.
The reverend's son, Guy Statler, who was driving, didn't seem to mind the toxic fog. Carla would have to doze and bear it. Still, she made no attempt to hide her periodic coughing even though she knew it wouldn't make any difference.
As she laid back on the head rest, she wondered how the reverend had avoided passing the smoking bug onto his children. Maybe his son, a clean-cut, ambitious, educated and refined individual, with a mysterious intensity, would pick it up later in life.
Guy, on the other hand, didn't seem to her to be a part of that family. Not that she felt he openly rejected them or avoided them. He just seemed to not be like them. When Carla found herself in the company of the Statlers, she hardly ever saw Guy there.
She was 17 when she first met him and over the years she had developed a crush on him. She would hang out with his sister, Lovey, back then and try to worm out information about him. Suddenly, he was gone away to college and didn't show up much anymore at family backyard barbeques. Then Bill Potts came into her life and Guy was a thing of the past.
Guy's father, with all due respect (which wasn't much) seemed shady. He preached a pretty good sermon, but off the pulpit he had a sleazy feel to him. The way he looked at women when he thought nobody would notice, made Carla uncomfortable.
Being an observant woman, she had seen him eyeing Patti Raymond, a parishioner, and Patti eyeing him back a few times too. Carla had gossiped a possible tryst between the two of them to Bill, who insisted that the reverend was using prayer visits with Patti's sick old mother to get into Patti. Carla, not a Statler family fan, decided to agree.
Sheets of rain formed on the windshield. The wipers were so useless that Guy could no longer see the road. The car was crawling along and he finally had to pull over and stop altogether.
Carla, who had completely fallen asleep, was unaware of the delay. She would stir once in a while to sneak a look at Guy. He looked even better than he had in the old days. He had matured and his body filled out nicely. She wondered why she had not caught him checking her out. Most men at least looked at her. Not enough to make Bill jealous, but enough to let her know that all the workouts were working out.
She decided it was stupid to worry about whether he found her attractive. She was happily married now, so it didn't matter. She dozed off again. Soon, as if in a dream, she was aware that the guys were talking quietly. She wasn't lucid enough to care what they were talking about.
The men were discussing whether it was wise to park on the shoulder of the road where other cars and trucks couldn't see them. From time to time, the rain let up and Guy could see enough to find a dirt road turn-off. He pulled the car cautiously back under the trees to what looked like a picnic area. The cloudy sky and the canopy of trees made it seem almost like night.
Carla wasn't sure how long they had been under cover. She wondered what had awakened her. Suddenly, she was vaguely aware of a delicate, but unwelcome sensation on her thigh...the same sensation she felt on some wake-up sexy mornings with her husband. But wait! Her husband wasn't with her, she remembered. She sat bolt upright, horrified to find that Guy Statler had slipped his hand under her skirt and was caressing her thigh.
"What the fuck...?" she demanded.
From the reverend in the back seat came, "Hey, man of the cloth back here."
"I don't give a shit if you're the son of God," she replied angrily, "Tell your child to keep his hands off me."
The reverend chuckled softly and feigned embarrassment. "Leave that woman alone, Guy. You know you don't have enough experience to tackle all that," he said.
With that, he leaned forward and quick as a snake, reached over the seat and grabbed Carla's titties through her blouse and bra saying, "This job calls for a man that's been around."
Carla tried to wrestle the old man's hands off her, but he had her confined to the seat. She screamed at him to let her go. She tried to open the car door, but Guy held down the lock button on the driver's side.
Realizing his father had Carla pinned down, Guy decided this would be a good time to explore the real estate under her skirt a little more. He grabbed that left thigh again and forced her legs open. She managed to punch him in the face which didn't stop him. As she fought to get away, he swiftly shoved his hand between her muscular tennis thighs and massaged her pussy. He could feel the crispy bush through the silky panties.
Seeing that his son was trying to make a move, the reverend let go of her tits and grabbed her arms, pinning them to the seat. He planned to return to her tits once Guy had secured his intentions.
Being confined in the small space of the front seat made it difficult for Carla to resist the way she wanted to. Rev. Ben, now holding her arms, didn't help. There was no doubt in her mind that they would stop after some fondling. She was wrong, for Guy could feel his usual civility turn seamlessly to savagery. Each time she cursed him, each time she spat on him or punched him, his erection grew.
He ripped her blouse open and slid her bra up over her bouncing tits without unhooking it. Still in the driver's seat, he managed to adjust the steering wheel forward and pull himself up on his knees to better reach her protruding nipples.
Carla attempted to shift her chest away from Guy's hungry mouth, but the reverend was holding her arms tightly. She tried to squeeze her thighs together to prevent Guy from getting to her pussy, but that only made him grind with more gusto.
Ironically, she'd wanted Guy to fondle her like that for years. Now that she was married and now that he had an accomplice, he finally decides to make a move? Well, at least it made her know that he found her attractive.
If it were not for the reverend's being there, she would've welcomed Guy's attentions. No way was she going to submit in front of his son-of-a-bitch father. She felt obligated to fight Guy off if she could.
His ear was just close enough to her mouth for her to crush it between her teeth. Guy realized what she was trying to do and, just in time, grabbed her hair with his free hand and slammed her head against the headrest.
He continued to suck vigorously on her nipples as if he would take the whole breast in his mouth. He moved the crotch of her panties aside so he could jam several fingers up her cunt. Imagine how surprised he was to find it juicy, hot and slippery. Maybe it was that way before he got to it. It didn't matter...it was like that now and he decided to take full advantage of it.
When she felt his fingers diddling around inside her, she could hear the liquid in her slobbering slit. Her husband had always commented on the abundance of juice her pussy produced even before she was ready for him to dive into it. All he had to do was enter the room and she'd get wet. This ability was not serving her well this time.
Rev. Ben proved to be, as the result of his age and lifestyle, weak and distracted. In his eagerness to get a full view of the goings on in the front seat, he leaned forward and relaxed his grip on Carla. She seized the opportunity to dig her fingernails into his face. He screamed and fell back in his seat holding the stinging wounds.
"Stay away from me you son of a bitch!" she screamed at Rev. Ben.
By the time the fight was over between Carla and the reverend, Guy had climbed over the stick shift, positioned himself between her thighs and was in the process of unzipping his pants. He had brought out his stiffening prick and was preparing to position it at her gaping hole.
He reached down and pulled the seat release lever near the floor, and the front seat suddenly reclined throwing Carla into an almost prone position. This made it easier for the reverend to secure her hands again. Guy forced her legs up and open, but she was struggling so fiercely with those tennis muscles, he was having some difficulty removing, or rather, ripping her panties off. Although Carla proved to be a good fighter, she knew she was powerless to stop them, but she wasn't going to give up easily.
Guy discovered that her struggling was helping. As he grasped the thin nylon, it ripped each time she pulled away from him. After a short while, she had unwittingly provided him with the opening he was looking for.
Guy and his father reasoned that she would be easier to control once Guy got his dick planted inside her. That was his next challenge...getting his dick up against her hole to enter her. He was having trouble holding her still long enough to keep his rod between the hairy lips. Yelling at her was one thing, but slapping her around was out of the question. He couldn't send her home with bruises. In his frustration, he ordered her to be still, as if she would comply. Of course, she did not.
"FUCK YOU!" she screamed.
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