Protective

I've always been my parent's baby girl. They are, let's say, a little over protective, wanting to wrap me in cotton wool all the time. The world just doesn't work that way. Would you believe they vet my boyfriends before I'm allowed to date them, and when I say vet they do a real investigation. It's a little scary at times.

Still, I can't complain about their generosity. They bought me this really neat little car for my eighteenth birthday and paid for an advanced driving course so that they could be reasonably certain I'd be safe on the roads.

Still, it doesn't matter how safe you try to keep someone, accidents happen. I'd been for a drive into the country, just buzzing around, happy to get out of the house for a while. I'd been down a number of back roads. I find them a lot more interesting than, and not nearly as dangerous as, the major roads. You're highly unlikely to be tailgated by a humongous truck highballing down a small country road.

It turns out that country roads have their own hazards. I'm not talking about the occasional cow on the road, though I have seen that. I'm talking about a common farmyard implement.

There I was driving down the road, not going overly fast, when I saw something lying on the road ahead. It looked like a stick and I ignored it. It didn't ignore me. I felt something go badly wrong as soon as I hit that stick. There was a loud noise and the car became very hard to steer. I pulled off to the side of the road and got out.

Did you know that puncture proof tyres will let you drive over nails and glass and other sharp objects without a problem? It's true. It turns out that a puncture proof tyre won't let you drive over a pitchfork. I ask you, a pitchfork? Who leaves pitchforks lying around in the middle of the road?

Two of the tines had pierced my tyre and when I drove on the pitchfork had just ripped a couple of great tears in the tyre. With holes that size the tyre wouldn't hold bricks, let alone air. And the pitchfork was still imbedded in the tyre.

I had a spare tyre. All I had to do was change it. Now I'm quite intelligent. I learn things easily and am quite adept at anything I turn my hand to, with one notable exception. I am mechanically inept. Even something as simple as a changing a tyre was a challenge to me.

I mean, it's simple, right? Jack up the car, loosen the nuts, take off the wheel, put on the wheel, tighten nuts, lower the car and off I go. Right?

Or is that, loosen the nuts and then jack up the car? How does the jack work? Where do you put it under the car? I was in trouble. Still, I wouldn't get anywhere if I didn't start. I got out my jack and my tools and the spare tyre. So far so good. I was pretty sure it was loosen the nuts before jacking up the car, and finish taking them off afterwards.

So how do you loosen those stupid nuts? Which way do they turn? Where the nuts on my car wheel were concerned they didn't turn in either direction. I was about to admit defeat and ring for help when there was a welcome diversion.

"Having trouble, love?" someone asked.

Looking around, there were two men standing in the paddock next to the road.

"Um, I've run over a pitchfork and have to change my wheel, but I'm not very good at it," I admitted.

The older man promptly clouted the younger man over the back of his head.

"Now you know where you lost the damn thing," he said. "Get over there and change the girl's tyre. Seeing it was your carelessness that destroyed her tyre you can just pay her for a new tyre as well."

"Oh, there's no need to pay for the tyre," I protested. "My tyres are old and I'm due for a new set. My father said he'd get me a set because he can get a discount through his work. But thank you for offering. I would appreciate the wheel being changed, though."

The two men hopped the fence and it was pretty obvious that they were used to working as a team. One started loosening the nuts even while the other man was positioning the jack and getting ready to crank it. They did in ten minutes what would have taken me an hour or more, stowing the dead wheel and putting the tools away.

"Thank you so much," I said, smiling happily. "I don't know how to thank you."

"That's OK," said the older man, and he was smiling, too. "We do."

I was like, "What?" wondering what he meant and he grabbed me. I mean, just like that he grabbed hold of me, literally picked me up, and laid me on the grass at the side of the road.

Not only that but he started tugging at my clothes. It was a beautifully sunny day and all I had on was a strapless sundress and my underwear. It was all I needed. The sundress had this nice elasticized top that held it snugly over my breasts, and with a strapless bra on under it, I could get my shoulders tanned without any strap marks.

I found out that it also meant that anyone who took hold of the top and pulled it firmly down could strip it right off me with a minimum of fuss. Fine, when it was me doing the stripping, but not quite so fine when it was someone else. The man had my dress off in no time at all and then he pulled my panties off. I couldn't believe it.

The man then let me go and I promptly sat up, which was what he expected me to do it seemed. He grabbed my hands and the younger man stepped up behind me and unclipped my bra, which promptly fell off. Then I was pushed down onto the grass again, completely naked. Except for my shoes. I still had my shoes on.

The older man settled onto the ground next to me, stretching one of his legs out so that is was wedged between mine. While I would have liked to push him away, that idea was a non-starter, due to the younger man catching my wrists and holding my hands above my head.

I just couldn't believe it when the older man started stoking my breasts. He seemed fascinated by my nipples, pinching then and rubbing them, encouraging them to stand out.

"Stop that," I snapped at him. "You can't do that."

"Yes, I can," he said. "Watch."

With that he started rubbing and kneading my breasts, even going so far as to bend down and kiss them and he even sucked on my nipples. I tried to tell him I didn't want him doing that, but was he listening? Not so that you'd notice. Then things got even worse.

He reached down and placed his hand squarely over my privates. Like, he just reached down and his hand completely covered my mound, and then he started rubbing it. I'd been upset when he touched my breasts. You can imagine how I felt now.

"You stop that," I demanded. "I don't want you touching me there. I don't want you touching me anywhere! Full stop!"

You notice I didn't say he can't do it. He'd have insisted that he could and would have demonstrated.

"Listen, love," he said, sounding exasperated. "Why don't you stop your whining? I'm doing what I want to and your yapping isn't going to stop me. Instead of complaining about it, why don't you just shut up and consider how it actually feels? If you stop to think you'll probably find that you actually like it."

Right. As far as I was concerned not another word would escape my lips. Let him touch me. See if I cared.

As a matter of fact I did. It felt strange, having a man run his hands over me, and they kept on touching me. First it was my breasts, then my privates, then back to my breasts, pinching my nipples, back to stroking my mons and probing softly along my lips, his fingers actually slipping between them and into me. AND I KEPT MY MOUTH SHUT!

I have to admit I also paused to consider what it really felt like instead of just saying, "Oo, ah, a man. Get it off me." I said it felt strange but I have to admit that it wasn't strange in a bad way. That's not saying it felt good. Just not bad. Right up until he played a dirty trick on me.

"Did you know your clitoris is just here," he asked affably, touching me somewhere and I screamed at the shock of that touch.

"Don't do that!" I shrieked, and he laughed.

"Sensitive little thing, aren't you," he said. "I think you're coming along nicely."

With that he adjusted his position, coming around to kneel between my legs. I was wondering what he was up to and then I saw him undoing his trousers. To my shock he exposed himself, his penis right there in front of me. It was gross. How could he do that? It was also rather on the large size. I hadn't realised they grew that big. There again, with my knowledge, how could I tell if it was a big one or not? Suffice to say it certainly looked big to me.

I don't know about being a sensitive little thing, but I was sure an innocent little thing. I didn't get the significance of his cock being out until he started stroking it along my lips. Then I twigged.

"No," I said, very firmly. "You can't do that."

Stupid me. He said exactly the same as when I told him he couldn't earlier.

"Yes, I can. Watch."

His hands dragged my lips apart and he pushed the head of his cock between them, letting my lips close over him. Then he gave a sudden push and something broke and it hurt.

"Argh," I screamed. "That hurts. Stop it. Stop it now."

"Geez," he grumbled. "Whinge, whinge, whinge. That bit always hurts for the first time, but the pain doesn't last long. Instead of moaning and carrying on, watch as the rest of it goes in. You'll find that it won't hurt anymore. You may actually find you like it. Most girls do."

The rest of it? I forced myself to look down at where he was assaulting my delicate body. It was a case of, oh my god. It seemed that hardly any of his cock had actually gone into me. There was a huge amount waiting to go in. I was staring at it, horrified, when I felt a little jolt and saw a bit more of it vanish. Not into thin air, which was my fervent hope, but into me, barging its way down my passage.

I kept on watching and his cock kept on sinking in. I could feel myself stretching as he forced his way along, making me adjust to fit him in. Why couldn't he damned well shrink to the size of my passage? Why did I have to be stretched? Stretched I most certainly was, and he kept on stretching me until his whole erection was inside me.

"There," he said. "Now that wasn't too bad, was it?"

I found I'd completely forgotten about that stab of pain. Let me tell you, if I'd thought that his touching me felt strange, it was nothing to the strangeness of having his cock inside me. I'd never been so aware of my body in my life. No. It wasn't strange, bad, but strange, I don't know what. I did feel amazingly alive though.

"Now, I trust you know enough to know that you're supposed to move with me?"

I didn't dignify that with an answer. Of course I knew. I think. Just how did you move when a man was in you? I mean, I was pinned to the ground. I should wave my arms and legs around and squeal and shout, "Rape?" I don't think that was the sort of movement he meant. I waited.

He pulled his cock back, almost taking it right out (no such luck), and then pushed it back into me, moving a lot faster than when he made his first entrance to my poor violated body. With that plunging thrust things snapped into focus.

For a start, it was a case of, "Oh, wow," and I knew why he said girls liked it. It was wonderful. Second, my sex education knowledge kicked in. Of course, he'd keep sticking his cock into me and I was supposed to push to meet it. That's what he was trying to tell me. I was ready for his next thrust, pushing my hips up to meet him and he seemed to go in faster and deeper.

From then on it was a case of, "Oo, ah, yes, wow, oh my god, yes, yes, yes, etc." I was liking it just fine, pushing up to meet him with gay abandon. (I noticed that he didn't complain about me mouthing off when I was signalling approval, just when I complained. A typical man, with a typically sensitive ego.)

I realised later that he'd actually started off slowly, giving me time to adjust. Not that it mattered, he was soon banging me hard and fast, and I was bouncing about under him, trying my best to match him. It seemed to me at the time that he just kept going and going, with each stroke building on the excitement I was feeling.

I'm not sure how long we spent bumping bellies, and I didn't care. All I knew was that he was bringing me pleasure and that it would keep coming for as long as I let him drive into me. (Let him? Like I was given a choice in the matter.)

Being rather new at this sort of thing I didn't know what to make of it when he suddenly seemed to go berserk, banging his cock into me at a great rate. I found out fast enough. My pleasure seemed to just explode through me as I climaxed, gasping and yelling with the shock of it.

I just slumped against the ground feeling replete, not wanting to move, while he rolled off me, taking his instrument of pleasure with him.

I didn't have long to lie there and consider what had happened. The second man (and just when did he let go my hands, I wondered) was rolling me over onto my tummy. He was pulling my hips up and I found myself scrambling to get my knees under me. I was thinking he wanted me to be able to crawl and was raising myself, while cursing him for an idiot, but he firmly pushed my head down onto my arms. He wanted me head down, bum up, for some reason.

I know. I was rather slow, especially when you consider what had just taken place.

I was just grumbling, "What are you doing?" when I found out.

I was most indignant to find he was pushing his cock into me. He hadn't spent any time on stroking my body and getting me aroused enough to take him. He'd left all that stuff to the other guy. Now he was just helping himself without so much as a by your leave.

I would have told him off but all those pleasant feelings started rolling through me again. He plunged into me and I found myself automatically raising my bottom and pushing towards him, taking him in hard and deep. Just like that it was, "wow, oo, ah," time again, with this new cock doing terrible things to my fragile nerves. I decided to put off telling him off until afterwards.

It was the younger man's performance that made me realise how gentle the first man had actually been. (Only at the start. He was really giving it to me at the end.) This guy started with a bang and kept it up. He had one pace, hard and fast and keep going until you drop. Not that I was objecting to hard and fast. I was already aroused so all I had to do was adjust my style to match the younger man and everything was fine.

I must admit to being a little disappointed in this new assault. True, he took me good, banging away until I climaxed, but he was in such a hurry to get there. Goodness me, if I hadn't already been well served by the older man I might not even have reached a finish, and wouldn't that have been a sad state of affairs.

I climaxed with a bit of a squeal, a trifle disappointed. My first climax had been much more intense. I guess men have a learning curve, getting better when they get older. Something for me to think about in the future.

As soon as we'd climaxed the young guy was getting up off me, the older man urging him to get along. They had more work to do and couldn't spend the whole day lollygagging around. He actually said 'lollygagging'. I'd never heard that word used in a serious conversation before.

"You'd better hurry up and get dressed, love," the older man told me. "Lie around like that and you might find someone else spots you and you could be there all day."

I knew good advice when I hear it. I dressed quickly, hopping in my car and heading homeward. An unusual day, I have to admit, what with the flat tyre, the men changing it for me, and the men taking advantage of me.

Still, there were a couple of pluses. I did get my tyre changed without having to call for help, for a start. The other thing was that I could tell my mother that a couple of men had jumped me but I was able to handle them with no problems, so she wouldn't have to be quite so protective of me in the future.