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Sean Ch. 04 – A Female Commune
Sean’s ‘Strength’ Gets Put To Use By the Commune
WARNING: This story series involves scenes of sex, light domination, discipline, breeding, oral and anal with yielded adult females. If that is not what you are looking for don’t read on. The sexual acts depicted in the story are committed by adults over eighteen years old.
Just a reminder from previous chapters. As an author my stories build with the description and interaction of the characters with plenty of dialog. Yes the sex gets there but if you’re looking for ‘hold your cock’ or ‘drip your pussy’ type stories there are plenty of Literotica authors to fulfill that need.
This story might be the last in this Sean Patrick series. A reader left a comment on Ch. 3 that the stories were basically the same. I guess the names and the places changed but Sean Patrick stayed with his MO. I know the ‘Hardy Boys’ had 58 books by the original author and now the series is up to 109. But I doubt there will be Sean Patrick Ch. 5. But I will really miss the interplay between Maureen and Sean Patrick. ZD8.
Sean Patrick.
Read my first journals for a more detailed description of me. Here is a summary. My name is Sean Patrick and I am a blessed Irish man with long flaming red hair, blue eyes, and a disarming smile that gets the ladies panties wet, should they be wearing any.
My body is buff from my Navy SEAL training; think about the character ‘Reacher’ and you got me. Special ‘private’ jobs have swollen my bank accounts! Private jobs you would never hear about. I have been blessed with a long thick cock that the ladies just have to have and when their panties get wet, clothes come off and my troubles start.
I’ve enjoyed many women; daughters, wives, mothers and matrons in every populated continent of the world. My gift has no conscience within a warm, wet, tight pussy or surrendered ass. Breasts with nipples hard enough to suck and pull is appreciated; size is not that important. Milk filled ones are a bonus!
A neglected woman will do what she wants and needs. Too often she wants my gift; hard and deep moving her to climax several times. I am a knowledgeable lover and my female partner will always climax before my cock gets near their pussy or ass. I love the taste of their dripping pussy; warm and thick nectar to slide along my tongue and drop into my belly.
Small Mountain Commune of Only Females
Maureen and I were riding in my small antique Chevy truck painted blue like Maureen’s eyes. We had no agenda and no direction; just pointed towards where the breasts of my chrome bumper mounted winged Valkyrie led us. We rode without aim through the mountains out west. Maureen? Didn’t I say my truck’s name is Maureen and it is painted on the driver’s side front wheel well?
Maureen Johnson Smith Long is the name of the Mother in several of Robert A. Heinlein’s science fiction novels. I wrote and installed military grade advanced AI software so ‘Maureen’ and I can converse. From experiences she has become more self aware. That’s a reason I never want to sell my truck.
“Sean Patrick you haven’t gotten fucked in a while. Your huge balls are gonna turn blue just like the beautiful blue of my eyes. Maybe there will be a roadside diner up ahead and you can fuck the waitress on my hood. I love to watch through my dashcam.”
“You know I can disconnect you…..”
Maureen laughed a deep alto laugh. Think Lauren Bacall and you have the voice range. “No you can’t smarty pants. Not anymore. You should not have installed that last program that made me learn from our shared experiences how to become self aware.”
“Pull out my module and your antique Chevy will be just a pile of scrap metal junk. Try starting this old heap without me; Gerre, Gerre, Gerre, Gerre, Gerre! Say you’re sorry. Sean, say you’re sorry,” she growled and the engine sputtered.
“I’m sorry Princess. I can’t live without you. I’d be so lost….”
“Don’t get sarcastic little boy. I can hear and interpret what you say. I’d hate for this old truck to go off the cliff side…. Oh look a small diner. Maybe getting laid will change your nasty mood.”
Maureen was right. I hadn’t gotten laid in some time. I doubt I could convince a waitress to go behind the diner and give it up. I pulled into the dirt lot and the engine turned off. Don’t need a key anymore. “Don’t be long. I get lonely too; Master,” she laughed.
“Fuck You, Maureen,” I growled.
As sexy as a bar stool sweety she whispered, “You know you want to Sean. You want to fuck me hard and deep. You’ll have to live with just being able to speak with me. I want you to know I love you; I love you with all my spirit. We’ll have to settle down and have you build me an AI body. Then you can use me. I love you Sean. Now don’t get in trouble with any locals in the diner.”
I told Maureen I loved her and ran my hand softly down the hood. She moaned. I walked in to the diner and took a seat at the counter. A waitress with a few years on her walked down to fındıkzade escort my spot while I looked her over and the menu. Her uniform top displayed the customary thick cleavage needed to generate good tips and her deep green eyes summed me up.
“What are ya gonna have there dearie and what brings ya to this forsaken place, soldier boy?” she said sweetly perhaps assessing my body build.
“I’m actually Navy SEAL, retired, so how about just a cup of coffee and a slice of that apple pie. I’m looking for pick up work where my small truck could be of help.”
I watched her walk away admiring her nice full ass and brunette hair tied up in a bun. Of course I watched her full bosom as the pie and coffee appeared. She leaned over almost spilling out her full tits. “See anything else you like, sweetie?” she said with a little laugh. “You’re not gonna have room for the pie if you don’t stop eating me up with your beautiful blue eyes.”
I laughed at being busted and said, “It’s obvious I’m enjoying the view of the twin mounds in this sleepy backwater diner. I’d like to do some exploring if there was more to see. Thank you ma’am, for bringing some beauty into my life.”
“Well aren’t ya just the sweetest thing,” she laughed again running her fingers through my long red hair. She put a 3×5 note card in front of me.
“WANTED. Guy with a small truck to help during crops and fruit harvest. No pay. Room and board provided in the barn. Get the hell be gone when harvest is over.”
“Well that makes it pretty damn clear, don’t it?” I said laughing. “Wouldn’t you rather take me home for a few days and nights, ……Marie? I think I have certain other skills you might make use of. I wouldn’t even need my truck,” I said softly and sweetly holding her hand.
I watched as Marie’s cleavage turned bright red and she had a little difficulty forming her first reply. She laughed to help her focus then whispered back, “Well sugar, my truck driving boyfriend won’t take too kindly to my having a bad boy over to our place sharing my bed. And ya are a bad boy, aren’t ya sugar?”
“No Ma’am, not really. It’s really you warm blooded full bodied women that take advantage of me,” I said smirking. “Besides maybe your man will get a long-haul phone call this afternoon and won’t even be around.”
“You really are a bad boy, aren’t ya? Let me warn ya about that place on the card. There is no one but women up there and they got plenty of long range rifles, pistols and ammo to chase off bad boys like ya.”
“County Sheriff don’t even bother looking for stray ally cats that go missing — if ya get my drift. They won’t find any trace of ya or yar truck. Ya understand sweetie?” she advised running her hand down my cheek.
“Don’t worry ma’am, I’ll be a real gentleman. You can really trust me on that! I’ve always relied on the kindness of strangers; especially strange women,” I promised laughing also.
“Then off with ya, ya tempting heart breaker,” Marie said laughing back. “Go down the road and take the right fork. Drive for about a half hour and ya’ll come to a guarded gate. If ya ain’t dead by then from a bullet through yar windshield there’s a good chance they’ll let ya live. Ya’ll get all the work ya can handle.”
“One more piece of advice, ya bad boy. Keep it in yar pants. There are some hungry women up there, soon as shoot ya as spit on ya. If ya survive come on back. I just might give ya a mercy fuck. Haven’t had much variety lately.”
Marie watched me stand and pull out my wallet. My long thick cock filled the other pocket. She took in a deep breath. She pulled my collar forward and gave me a long deep kiss.
“I really hope they don’t shoot ya and toss that huge gift you carry into the pig pen. Come on back and I promise ya I’ll give it up.” She kissed me again and handed me a coffee to go. I pushed a fifty into her cleavage and kissed her lightly.
I got into the truck and Maureen asked me if I fucked the waitress. I said no. “Did you at least get her panties? Last time you came out of a diner with Elise’s fragrant pink panties.” I said no again, “But she promised to give it up if I lived long enough.” I read the card to Maureen and told her what Marie said. “Marie, is it?”
“Sean, this sounds just a bit dangerous. I don’t want you getting another scar or shot just for a fuck. Maybe we should pass this one by. I couldn’t live without you.” She made a soft sound.
“If you do this I want you to swallow the tracker. I’ll come crashing through the barn like KITT in Knight Rider if I have to rescue you,” Maureen said almost weeping.
“Easy girl, I might get the idea you actually love me.”
“Fuck you, Sean Patrick. Fuck you!” Maureen snapped at me.
“I love you Princess. I promise I’ll be careful.”
“You better fucking be. No tail is worth a bullet. Swallow it now,” Maureen barked as the glove box opened. “You’re lucky I didn’t order the suppositories,” she growled.
I followed the directions and pulled aksaray escort up to the gate. A female with long yellow hair came out of a shack. Her hair was the colour of the golden grain that grows all over this area.
She held the most popular Winchester rifle, and arguably America’s most iconic deer rifle; the Winchester Model 94, a lever-action repeating rifle that has been in production since 1894.
“What the fuck you want and it better be good,” she growled waving the rifle tip in my direction. I held the card out the window and she read it. “Wait here. You move and you won’t feel the bullet that turns your brain to mush.”
I heard Maureen whisper, “Fuck Sean. I can hit 60 in reverse using the super charger in under the time it takes a fly to fart. Just remember we upgraded to bullet-proof glass.”
“Easy girl, let’s see how this plays out.”
She came back. I tried my best not to look at her tits! “Got any guns?”
“No ma’am.” I replied. “Don’t need em, don’t wanna have em.”
“Got any knives?”
“Yes ma’am.” I replied. “Just the one in my boot. I’m a retired Navy SEAL and we always carry one in our boot. Don’t go anywhere without a knife we were trained.”
“Put it on the dash, nice and slow as well as your phone. Drive up to the barn and wait for your escort.” She flipped a switch and forward and backward spikes went into a slot and the gate dropped to the dirt. “He’s on his way.”
“She had nice tits Sean. Wonder if she fucks; with men that is,” Maureen let out a nervous laugh. It took a few minutes to drive past fields of various crops. I saw the orchards then the large barn. Think of an Amish barn and you have the size. I drove up and parked. Three females were waiting for me.
Each woman had a Colt 1911 tactical 9mm pistol strapped to their hip. My Navy SEAL training gave me very knowledgeable experience with this pistol. Each clip held nine rounds and ease of clip reload was top notch. These women were not playing.
“What do you want?” snapped the long raven haired, green eyed spokeswoman. Yes she had nice tits at my eye level because I was still seated in my truck.
“The waitress at the diner gave me your very specific card. I drive the country looking for pick up work; room and board and maybe gas money. I don’t carry a gun; just a knife in my boot. It’s there on the dash.”
“I work hard and put in a full day. I’ll work your harvest then be gone. I give you my oath as a retired Navy SEAL that how you live up here will stay your secret. I’d like my knife back when you let me leave. That’s it pure and simple.”
The three women discussed the situation at some length. “You follow orders, leave the women to do their jobs, work hard, eat what’s given you and sleep in the shed in the barn and we should be able to give you a full tank of gas when you leave.”
“Can I get out of my truck?”
“No funny business. I’m sure the waitress told you, stupid men just disappear. There are boxes in the barn. Put them in your truck and go fill them with ripe tomatoes. We are putting up sauce today. Keep bringing filled boxes until we tell you to stop,” the raven haired woman barked and pulled my door open.
“Take your knife to cut away the tomatoes. No green ones just to fill the boxes. We expect you know what you’re doing.”
I walked into the barn and should not have been surprised to see a production line Mason jar canning operation. Jars were being filled, sealed and put into a long gas fed trough of boiling water. There were three women working the line. I got no smiles. They pointed to the boxes and I got the message.
I filled the truck bed and drove down to the field. “Well you managed to not get yourself killed Sean. At least not yet! Those women were packing and I’m not talking about their tits!” Maureen laughed to break the tension.
There were three women working the field. That made nine, plus one at the gate, that I saw so far. I worked hard filling the boxes with ripe tomatoes. I was shocked and very pleased when the workers used their tee shirt hems to wipe sweat from their forehead and their naked tits were exposed. I could see that very few men got up this way.
None of the women were zaftig; all were lean and in fine shape. It was obvious all worked the farm. When they cut tomatoes from the bottom it was also obvious they had no panties on under their skirts. It took all my control to not work with a woody climbing down my pant leg.
On one trip back with empty boxes I was given a basket, four jars and a large milk can filled with water. The basket held lunch; nuts and fruit mixed with chicken on homemade dark bread. I passed out the sandwiches.
I handed each of the three women a Mason jar which they held in their lap. ‘By accident’ I over spilled the water wetting tee shirts and skirts. They each eeked spilling more water so I got to watch six nipples harden and push out their tee. They laughed and tossed water at me wetting my tee and my pants leg.
They eyüp escort grew quiet when my long thick cock was outlined on my wet thigh. I took off my tee and they hissed when they saw all my scars. The bravest one, the youngest looking, stood and traced her fingers over my scars even the one that went under my belt buckle. “Sir?” she said quietly.
I waved her off and said they were old history. “But Sir,” she said. The other two put aside their food and came and traced different scars then ran their fingers through my long red hair and down my cheeks. “Eat sisters; we have work to do,” I whispered and kissed each of their palms. They laughed nervously.
As they ate they looked intently at my bulge and like the Three Witches in Macbeth whispered amongst themselves. What were they hatching? The brave one asked if I would be sleeping in the barn tonight. When I said yes, they giggled. I asked them their name and age and all three were over eighteen.
I left my shirt off for the balance of the day, filling the boxes and making runs to the barn. The three ‘pickers’ found excuses to wipe their forehead and willingly showed me their tits. Except that they did not have bras on, my trained SEAL eyes could guesstimate, B, C and D cup. They blushed but gathered the low hanging tomatoes like baseball catchers. They were eye level with my cock and I pulsed it each time I knew they were watching. I could easily smell their scent.
When I brought the first boxes of the afternoon to the canning assembly line all work stopped. These women were older in appearance and their eyes traveled down my scars and locked in on the bulge down my pants. Very softly I heard a, “Fuck.” They watched me stack and empty all the boxes before slicing, mashing, de-seeding and canning began again.
As I walked out I heard, “Well fuck me,” then “Me too,” in unison then embarrassed laughter. Work stopped each time I returned and I got devoured by their hungry eyes. Later while still out in the field I heard a bell ring. “Quitting Time” one yelled. The brave one asked my name. I told her.
“Well Mister Sean can we get a ride back in your truck?” I said I only had room for one inside and two in the back with the tomatoes. They pouted and asked how I would choose. I told them I had a number, 1 to 5, in mind. “Put your hand behind you and when I say go show me some fingers.”
Lucky for me they each chose a different number and I told the ‘brave one’ she had won. She screeched and grabbed shotgun. She was the youngest at nineteen. To protect myself from a bullet in the back of my head I didn’t ask how they came to be on the farm.
I pushed a button on the dash and Maureen started the truck. I hit a rut on the way back and Alice, the youngest at nineteen, laughed and leaned over to right herself. Her hand ‘accidentally’ landed on my cock and she moaned as she held on tight. She gripped it tightly moving her hand up and down my shaft until I pulled up in front of the barn. She turned my face and kissed me then hissed as she slid out the door.
“Sean, I could smell that young’un. She wet the seat. You better tread carefully. I don’t want to become a widow and have nothing but pussies sitting on my seats,” Maureen whispered.
There were only a few boxes so I carried them in and stacked them at the beginning of the line. I saw the final jarred tomato sauce and thought they must eat a lot of spaghetti.
I asked the canners what happens next. All three laughed and said they take communal showers before dinner. “Don’t see that happening in your case, buster!” one burst out laughing and the other two joined in. They quieted down.
I heard a noise and turning saw the raven haired woman from before. She looked middle aged but in great shape, from hard farm work? “There is a shower there in the corner and a small room for tonight. I have several tees and jeans that we came by. Perhaps a set will fit for tomorrows work. Dinner will be brought out later. Don’t go wandering off or you’ll be shot as a coyote.”
I stripped and showered the dust of the field off me. I was standing there naked when there was a knock on the door. “Dinner, Sir,” I heard as the door swung open. A middle aged blonde held a tray right under a nice full set of tits. She shrieked and I grabbed the tray just as she let go; SEAL reflexes! I set it on the small table and turned back to her.
Almost as if it wasn’t her arm, her hand reached out and cupped my ballsack. My cock, always long and thick even when soft, was gripped by her other hand. I said nothing. She looked up at me with wide blue eyes then lowered to her knees. She took my cockhead into her mouth and moaned.
“Can you cum quickly?” she asked whispering as if she might be caught.
“You women always complain when us men cum too quickly. Now you want me to?”
“Yes, Sir,” she said softly looking at me in wonder. She lifted her tee up to her shoulders. Her nice tits were on display. She centered my long thick cock between her warm tits and moved my shaft up and down.
She took my cock into her mouth and sucked as her hands and tits worked up and down my thick long shaft. She locked her blue eyes on my face and sought her own desires. With all my experience with just adulthood females; matrons, daughters, mothers and even grandmothers on every populated continent, I can control my climax.
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