Sarah went into the kitchen, washed her hands, then took out from the refrigerator lettuce, broccoli, a green pepper, a cucumber, a jar of Greek olives, a small ceramic container of cheese, then from the basket over the counter, a red onion and a big tomato. Angelo came in with a bottle of red wine and Sarah handed him a cork screw and, with her eyes, told him to open the wine, then reached for two wine glasses.

“ Hope you like a Greek Salad with homemade feta cheese.”

“ Homemade?”

“ Yes from the goats. My granny showed me how to make it and some other cheeses.”

She held out the two glasses while Angelo poured. They clicked glasses and Sarah said, “To fun and freedom!”

“ I'll drink to that.”

“ Mmmm nice wine.” She took another sip and another and put down the half empty glass.

“ So, you live here all alone,” he asked, leaning against the counter while she assembled the salad. “Do you ever get lonely, a pretty girl like you.”

“ Sometimes. I've been thinking of hiring a farmhand. I'm a writer and the chores take a lot of my energy and time.”

“ Oh, you're a writer? What do you write?

“ Romance novels. Love stories.”

Sarah took another sip of wine, faced him and, wondered if she could entice him if she told him what kind of romance stories she wrote, then, smiling into his eyes, said. “They're very erotic.”

Angelo nodded, gazing into Sarah's eyes, “Are your stories based on reality or are they fantasies?”

“ A little of both,” she said, a slight smile on her lips, and finished her wine. “How about pouring us a little more wine and we can eat. You look like a man who likes to eat.”

He poured each of them more wine while she sprinkled the feta cheese on the salad, poured her homemade dressing over the vegetables and cheese, tossed it with two wooden spoons, took another sip of wine and moved the large wooden bowl to the round oak kitchen table on the other side of the room and smiled at him.“Come and get it.”

Sarah knew she was being sexually suggestive by what she said and how she said it, and could see by his smile that he knew what she was doing. The sexual tension between them filled the kitchen. She was determined to seduce Angelo and see if she could get him to stay and be her farmhand.

Sherry's eyes were fixed on Angelo's while he listened. The bulge in his red bikini shorts had gotten bigger and seeing its length sent a bolt through her and wetness between her legs, but she was determined not to lose her virginity to this man who seduced young women, abused them, then tossed them aside like trash.

Sherry yawned, placing the back of her hand over her mouth, and said in a weary voice, “I'm getting tired from all the champagne and pot. I might have to stop and get some sleep.”

“ You can't stop now.”

“ I have to. I'm really sleepy. I can tell you the rest of the story tomorrow.”

“ Tomorrow? What makes you think there's going to be a tomorrow? Come on, tell me what happens. I want to know how Sarah seduces Angelo and gets him to become a farmhand. That's pretty daring of her.”

“ Am I making you horny?” I asked, glancing at his bulge.

“ Can't you see?” He rubbed his hand up and down his hardness.

“ Yes, I can see. Okay, just a little more, then I'm going to sleep. It's late and I like to get up early and write before I go to Rosie's and I want to get my stuff and bring it here.”

“ You're serious aren't you?”

“ Very. I like it here and hate where I'm living. This can be a win-win situation having me stay here and write and we can hang out. You'll like it. I know you will.”

“ I doubt that will happen. Now, tell me what happens.”

I wondered if I should make the story really hot and get Angelo even more turned on and then stop, or should I keep it suspenseful, making him more and more curious so that he had to wait until the next night to find out what happens. If it's too hot, would I be able to resist his actions, would I be testing myself by getting so aroused I'd give in and become another conquest, would I be on the razor's edge? Before starting, I moved back to one of the huge pillows against the backboard and lay on my side facing him. When I did that, Angelo, also lay on his side, with his head on his pillow, facing me and started rubbing my thigh. I have to admit his warm hand felt good, but I lifted it. “Remember, no touching.”

He grunted softly and narrowed his eyes at me, but removed his hand and I continued.

While eating, Angelo commented on how delicious the salad was and Sarah said she loved to cook and how much she loved growing as much of her own food as she could and how much she loved writing, but she might need to hire a farmhand to help with the chores, and the pasture fence needed mending and firewood needed stacking and it was taking too much time from her writing.

“ Well, if you sell to me, you would have plenty of money and you'd be able to write and not worry about all the work.”

“ I told you I'm not selling. So you can forget that idea.”

After they finished eating, Sarah cleared the table and took the plates, and empty salad bowl to the counter while Angelo sat back on his chair with his legs stretched out towards her. When she turned around to face him, she saw her chance to make something happen and said, “Wanna get high. I grew some dynamite weed this summer and just harvested some and it's ready.”

“ Sure, I'd like that. You're a resourceful young woman, aren't you?

“ I am. Have to be if I want to be independent.”

“ So being independent is important to you.”

“ Very. That's why I've been reluctant to hire a farmhand, but if I can find the right one, someone who loves the farm as much as I do and can work hard, I might change my mind.”

Sarah opened up a mason jar filled with buds, placed a few in the small glass pipe that had been on the counter, picked up a lighter and walked over to Angelo, lit the pipe and took a deep puff before handing it to him. While he took a hit, she hovered over his outstretched legs, straining her tight faded jeans. When he handed the pipe back, she closed her eyes, savoring the taste and sensation that rose through her body, then, gazing into his eyes, sat down on his lap and started grinding herself against Angelo's bulge. As the growing lust between them grew in intensity, he grabbed her ass, and, remembering how she felt riding Ginger and rubbing herself against the pommel, started grinding harder, sliding up and down, her breathing heavier, moving faster, her body tensing, getting closer to exploding in a huge orgasm, the first of many she wanted, and shouted, “Oh my God” as her body moved faster, harder, “Ohhhhfuck! I'm cumming!”She rode him faster, harder, then shuddered as an overwhelming orgasm swept through her. She came hard and collapsed on Angelo, crushing her breasts against his chest, but knowing she had to do something more to turn this rich man who wanted to buy her farm, into her farmhand, slid off his legs and onto her knees, then lowering the zipper on his slacks, pulled out his hard cock and smiling, said, “I want some dessert.”

I stopped when Angelo rolled onto his back, spreading his legs and started moving his hand up and down his bulging cock which made me know my story was getting him where I wanted him, and knew this was my chance to escape his lust, though I have to admit, watching him turned me on even more than my story.

“You like my story, don't you?”

“I'm so fucking hot I can't stand it.”

He reached for me but I slapped his hand away and said, “Good. Jerk off for me. I want to watch!”

When he lowered his bikini underwear and his hard cock stood straight up and she saw how large it was, it was all she could do not to lean over him and swallow it, but resisted and watched his hand move faster and faster, his eyes closed, his body tensing, but then he reached for her and tried to roughly push her onto her back.

“No,” I shouted and pushed him away. “Keep going....Jerk of for me.”

Watching him, I moved my hand between my legs and shoved two fingers into my wet pussy and within a minute of intense thrusting, our eyes fixed on each other, we both exploded, his body shaking, then stiffened as white gobs shot out of him into the air and onto his stomach, while I convulsed in a huge orgasm, screaming, then smeared my breasts with what poured from me.

I lay back on the pillow and looked up at the billowing cloth above me, panting and thinking, wow that was hot, glad that my story had accomplished its goal and I'd be able to sleep.

“Let's get some sleep,” I said, facing him and saw his chest heaving, his eyes closed as he came down.

“Damn, that story got to me. You're a wild story teller. I like that.”

“You ain't heard nothing yet,” I said, between breaths. “I've got a wicked imagination.”

“You do, do you?” he said.

I moved towards him and kissed his cheek, his forehead, his ear and whispered, “You'll find out how wicked I can be if I stay here and write. Now let's get some sleep.”

I couldn't believe this was me talking and behaving like this, but I was enjoying the excitement and was also determined to show him, I wasn't like all the other women he had fucked or abused. I wanted to hurt him, torture him and maybe, even break his heart.

The next morning, I made sure to wake up before he did and watched him sleeping, glad that he didn't snore. Seeing him with his eyes closed, his gentle breathing, I wondered what it was that made him so cruel to the young women he seduced, what pain, what anger? Was it revenge for some hurt? My writer's mind wanted to know what made this handsome man, so vile.

It was chilly so I put on his white shirt over my peasant blouse, and tiptoed into the other room. I glanced at my sneakers and wondered if I should leave and show him I wasn't a captive, but decided there was more I could do to convince him he should let me stay and write. I'd go home later and pack some clothes, get my laptop and come back here after Rosie's. I went into the kitchen that looked untouched, and, seeing his French Press, decided to make some coffee. I opened a cabinet and found a bag of coffee, put on the teapot and explored the nearly empty refrigerator but found a dozen eggs, a carton of milk, which, when I sniffed, knew wasn't sour, a package of cheddar cheese wrapped in plastic and a package of bacon. In the freezer, I grabbed the bag of bagels. Great! He likes breakfast. Now if there's some butter, I'll make him an omelet that will make his tongue throw a party for his mouth.

I found an onion in the vegetable bin and wondered why he even had an onion. It looked like he didn't cook much. I loved to cook and remembered my mom saying, “The way to a man's heart is through his stomach.” No wonder my dad had such a pot belly.

The smell of bacon must have wakened him because he came in wearing a short silky maroon robe over his red bikini underwear and saw what I was doing. “What do you think you're doing?”

“What does it look like I'm doing?” Then added, “How about slicing the onion for me.”

Though his startled eyes widened, I handed him the knife I was about to use, then found some salt and pepper to add to the egg batter.

“You want me to slice an onion?”

“Yes. I want to make you a good breakfast, but I'm not a slave. By the way, how come you have an onion. It doesn't look like you cook much.”

I like making breakfast, but then I eat out a lot. I don't have time to cook or shop.”

He reluctantly started slicing the onion. “I hate cutting onions. They make my eyes burn.”

When I saw his eyes tearing, I said, “Go sit down and I'll finish.”

When he sat down at the small white kitchen table with two chairs, I chopped and sauteed the onion, and added them to the egg batter that was already in the frying pan, then the cheddar cheese. When the two bagels popped up in the toaster, I buttered them and placed them on two white plates just as the perfect omelet was ready to serve.

“You look pretty hot in my shirt,” he said, looking me up and down.

I brought breakfast to the table and glanced down at the bulge in his underwear as his robe hung partially opened, also revealing his hairy chest, flat stomach and legs.

“You look pretty hot yourself,” I said, knowing he saw where I was looking, then added, “I hope you like my cooking. Maybe on the nights I'm not working, I'll make you dinner and you'll be glad I'm living here.”

“I didn't say you could live here....don't get ahead of yourself, miss.”

“Well, if you want to hear the rest of my story and have a someone like me to enjoy, you'd be nuts to not let me stay here.”

While we were eating, I couldn't resist lifting my leg and placing my foot on the bulge between his legs while I chewed a piece of my bagel, my eyes fixed on his. “Isn't this a nice breakfast,” I said, rubbing him with the arch of my foot and felt him getting harder. “I think you'll like my cooking and me giving you something delicious to eat. Wouldn't you like something delicious to eat?”

He swallowed and pushed himself harder against my foot.

“How about it? Let me stay here and write and you can hear the rest of my story. I can entertain you in ways none of your other little girls can.”

I'm not sure why I said little girls, but I was following my intuition about him and knew he liked his power and control, liked making young women submit to his lust, liked hurting them and I wanted to show him he couldn't do that to me. I wanted revenge for all the women he used, his sluts, and saw my chance to have a cool place to live, even though I knew I was taking a chance and remembered Mindy's words, watch out, he's dangerous, but the writer in me also wanted adventure. I didn't want to just write. I wanted to live and write from experience.

“You like teasing me, don't you?” He bit his lower lip as he savored my foot pressing against him.

“Yes, and as you know, I have a wicked imagination. I can tell you stories that will enchant and tantalize you.”

I have to admit, his hardness against my foot was arousing me, but I knew I had to control the situation, make him know he had met his match, so, I moved my foot away, picked up our plates and mine and started towards the sink. When he grabbed my wrist and forced me to sit on his lap, his hardness on my ass stunned me. Damn he's hard, but I was holding our plates and stood up, looking down at him, then leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Is this how you treat all of your waitresses?”

That surprised him and me.

I walked to the sink, swaying my hips slightly, and turned back to him the way I did when he looked at me at Rosie's the other night. “Hey, mister, are you checking me out?”

I knew he knew what I was doing. I wasn't sure what I was doing but the idea of role playing, and acting out stories might really do the trick. It would add another dimension to my story telling that would have him wrapped around my little finger and that's where I wanted him.

“I couldn't help it. You look so delectable,” he said, then turned and stretched out his legs letting his robe fall open to reveal his hardness bulging in his red bikini shorts as if tempting me.

The sight immediately got me tingling and I swallowed, trying to ignore what was happening.

“I bet you say that to all of your waitresses. I've seen how you look at the waitresses at Rosie's even when you're with one of your slut girl friends. Guys like you are jerks. I ignore guys like you.”

“Yeah, but I see where you're looking, miss.”

“So what. Don't think showing me your ammunition is going to get you in this waitress's pants.”

Finding us suddenly role playing was unexpected, but I could see this could be fun. Would I be able to control him? And what about me?

I turned on the water and started washing the dishes, ignoring him.

He came to the sink and stood behind me and put his arms around my waist and pushed himself against my ass. I bucked him away. “Listen, mister, I've got work to do.”

“Yeah, well, I'm a hungry customer. I'd like some service around here.”

“Sorry. I'm closing up shop. I want to get these dishes done so I can get out of here.”

“ But I want something more to eat.”

He turned me around and got down on his knees and I knew what he wanted to eat, but I placed my fingers on his chin, lifting his eyes to meet my eyes. “Sorry, mister, the kitchen is closed. Now how about leaving so I can get out of here.”

Then I stopped the role playing. “Listen Angelo, let me finish up here, then go and get my stuff and I'll come back after work tonight and you can hear the rest of my story.”

He huffed and stood up. “Sherry, I didn't say you could stay here.”

“I saw how my story got to you, last night. Don't you want that to happen again and we can add a little more role playing to the story if you want. Tell you what--if my story tonight doesn't make you hot, I'll pack up my stuff and leave.”

“Okay, one more night.”

“Cool,” I said. “You're a smart man and a good looking one. This will be fun.”

At work, as soon I showed up, the other waitresses wanted to know what happened when I left with Angelo and I told them I had fun, we messed around and said, I'm going to be staying there.

“You are!” Carrie said, shocked.

“Are you crazy?” Molly asked.

Mindy took me aside while we folding napkins. “I'm worried about you, Sherry. He's a cruel man.”

“ I have everything under control. I have to get out of my house and he's got a really cool apartment and I want to teach him a lesson. Nothing I don't want to have happen, will happen.”

She gave me that look, then said, “I hope you know what you're doing, but I won't be surprised if I see you bruised like Renee and you quit working here to stay away from him.”

“ I'll be fine, Mindy. I know what I'm doing.” I tried sounding strong, but a part of me wasn't so sure and realized how strong he looked, what good shape he was in and I'm a little over five feet tall. I asked myself, Why am I doing this? Maybe I don't know what I'm doing.

I had my suitcase with a few changes of clothes—some for work, but a few for our evenings of story telling and role playing. I had my laptop and a briefcase filled with my stories and a new one based on the story I was telling Angelo. The idea of living there was exciting and dangerous, but I was so drawn to wanting to be there and show Angelo I was not one of his sluts and could ultimately make him suffer in a way he never imagined. My desire for power over him surprised me and made my heart pound and my mind swirl.

It was a busy night and, feeling energized by what was happening, really got into giving good service, kibitzing with the customers I had been serving for over a year and secretly smiled, when one asked, “So, what's new, Sherry?” and I said, “nothing much...just writing and stuff.” But inside, I was bursting with what was happening.

Bursting, that is until Angelo walked in with one of the girls I had seen him with before. My bubble suddenly dissolved into a puddle. I tried swallowing but my throat tightened, stunned. When I caught my breath and approached his table, I had to pretend I didn't care.

“Good evening, Angelo, would you and your date like to try the new house wine we're serving?”

I was wearing my new skinny jeans and a black tank top and got the usual up and down look from him.

When the busboy brought over the bread and olive oil, I stepped aside and watched him take his date's hand and nod, “Yes, we'll have the new house wine. Thank you, Sherry.”

Serving him that night was torture, but being a good waitress is a performance, and I did a good job asking how everything was and did they need anything else, but here I was with my suitcase, laptop and shattered expectations. Now what?

It was hard walking back and forth to the kitchen with him sitting with this gorgeous blonde, but I could feel his eyes on me and a few times our eyes met and I wondered, how can that jerk be flirting with me while he's with his date, but knew I was jealous and tried to shake that emotion away. Why am I jealous. What's going on?

When he handed me the leather bound credit card holder and stood up to leave, he whispered, “See you later.” I didn't know what he meant until I opened up the leather holder and saw a note written on the receipt. “I want to hear the rest of the story. Come after work.”

Instead of sitting down for a meal after we were finished serving and setting up for the next day, I got my suitcase, laptop and took off. No one asked why I had a suitcase but Mindy knew and her eyes again told me watch out .

The door man recognized me and bowed when he opened the door. I was the only one in the elevator as it rose to the thirtieth floor, wondering about his date, would she be in his apartment, but when the door opened to Angelo's vast apartment, he greeted me with a glass of champagne and when I saw the other woman wasn't there, I wondered what happened to her, but also felt myself becoming the the woman determined to have a swanky place to stay, write and make Anglo know he had met his match.

“So, are you going to let me stay here?”

“I'm considering it.” He glanced down at my suitcase and laptop. “Let's take one night at a time.”

“Cool! I can handle that.”

“Good.”

We clicked glasses and sipped our champagne. I took off my shoes and walked barefooted across the plush carpet to the other side of the apartment and looked out at the city lights. He followed and I knew he was looking at my ass in the tight skinny jeans. Little did he know what other clothes I had in my suitcase to use for our role playing and wondered what stories I would tell after the one I had started last night. To say I was winging it was an understatement.

He stood behind me with his arm around my waist. His cologne and the feel of his body holding me was soothing. I closed my eyes and savored how it felt to be standing there and, for a moment, forgot how dangerous he was and how romantic it felt to be in his apartment looking out at the city and drinking champagne. He kissed my throat just above the collarbone and a shiver went through me.

I took his hand away and, facing him, smiled into his eyes,“So do you want to hear the rest of my story? ”

“ Sure, why don't we get a little more comfortable in my bed?”

I finished my champagne and handed him the glass. “How about a little more champagne.”

He poured me and himself another glass and I took his hand and led him into the bedroom, but then remembered my suitcase and knew I had something I wanted to change into before I told him the story.

“ I'm going to change my clothes, Angelo, then finish the story. Why don't you get undressed and put on that sexy robe you wore this morning and I'll be right back.”

In the bathroom I squeezed myself into the cut-off jeans I've had since I was fourteen. They were so tight I could hardly button them and so short I knew my ass cheeks showed, but I knew they would make his eyes pop out. I kept the black tank top on, but took my bra off then put on the cowboy boots I had squashed into my suitcase. I tied my wild hair in a ponytail and became a farm girl.

When he saw me in the tight cut offs, ponytail and the cowboy boots, his eyes looked up and down my body.

“ You're some storyteller,” he said.

“ Thanks. You're going to like the rest of my story.”

I have to admit I liked how he looked at me, but I was determined to stay out of his clutches and entice him to let me stay.

I walked around to the other side of the huge king-sized bed and crawled towards him on my hands and knees, knowing my breasts were showing, then moved to lay next to him with my head on the plush pillow against the backboard, loving the feel of the black silk sheets, then I leaned up on my elbow and looked down at his grinning face.

“ Why are you grinning?” I asked, curious.

“Because I think you're funny.” He had a smirk on his lips.

“Funny? Why do you think I'm funny?”

“Because you think telling me a story and dressing up like a little farm girl while you tell me a hot story is going to make me let you stay here past tonight.”

“That's right and you're going to like my story so much you won't want me to leave.”

“We'll see, won't we?” he said, and reached for his gold cigarette case, took out a joint, lit it and handed it to me.”Here, this will help your storytelling.”

I took a hit, inhaling and handed the joint back to him and felt my body responding to the pot, my whole body loosening, and that tingle between my legs warning me I'd better be careful. I took another hit and closed my eyes to find my way back to the story I had started last night.

Kneeling between Angelo's legs, Sarah unzipped his slacks and smiled up at him while she placed her hand around his hard cock, then started licking the head, while gazing into his eyes.

Angelo lay back in the chair and stretched his legs on each side of Sarah and gave into the pleasure of her warm, wet mouth making soft slurping sounds as she swallowed more and more while making sure her tongue licked the underside of his swelling cock. Angelo grabbed her hair, wrapping thick strands tightly around his fingers, holding her head still, while thrusting harder, faster. “Suck my cock. Suck it!” he screamed, writhing, and within minutes, filled her mouth with his load, then collapsed back in his chair, panting, while Sarah licked the remnants of his cream that dribbled from her lips and down her chin.

Angelo was turned on by my description and I loved seeing the big bulge in his red bikini underwear, loved how my words excited him, loved the power my words had. “Do your girlfriends give you blow jobs like that?”

“Yes, but Sarah seems like she's trying to lure that man who wants to buy her farm and make him her farmhand. How does she do that?”

“ You have to be patient and listen to the story, if you want to find out.”

“I'm not a patient man, Sherry.”

“I know. I can tell by the different women you come into Rosie's with every night, you like variety, don't you?”

“Yes, I like my little pets, but I get tired of them and when they get too clinging, I dispose of them.”

“Dispose of them. What do you do?”

“You don't want to know what I do.”

“Yes I do. Tell me. How do you dispose of your women?”

I couldn't believe I was probing like that, but when he said, “You might find out,” I wasn't sure what to say, but surprised myself when I said, “I'm not afraid of you.”

He smiled at me and reached for my pony tail and pulled. “You should be.”

“ Maybe you should be afraid of me,” I said, taking his hand from my hair.

“ Really.” He smiled and shook his head at me as if I was a fool.

I shifted and squirmed away from him and facing him, lifted my leg.

“ Take off my cowboy boots.”

“ You want me to take off your boots.”

“ Yes, please. I want them off. Take them off for me, then I'll continue the story.”

He took one boot off and tossed it on the floor next to the bed and rubbed the bottom of my foot then kissed my toe and licked my ankle which send shivers through me. I lifted my other foot and he took off the boot, kissed my toes, and smiled at me while he placed the boot on the floor. I knew what he was doing, but enjoyed it.

“ Thanks. I love being bare footed.”

He started moving his hand up my bare leg while his tongue continued licking and tickling the arch of my foot which caused me to writhe from the sensation. My tight cutoffs were pressing against my pussy, but then I realized I can't lose control and rolled away from him and sat up. “Story time,” I said, catching my breath and saw how hard he was. Though turned on, I swallowed and somehow continued.

Sarah stood up and took Angelo's hand and said, “Come with me.” She led him up the stairs then down the hall to her bedroom and knew she wanted to take advantage of having this handsome man who wanted to buy her farm. Standing in front of him, she placed her hands between his legs and grabbed his balls. “I want you to fuck me!”

He placed his hand between her legs and cupped her mound through her tight jeans. “I like a woman who knows what she wants.”

“ Well, I know what I want and what I don't want.” She kissed him, probing his mouth with her tongue then slid it into his warm mouth and swirled it around while his tongue did the same to her mouth. She tightened her grip on his balls and he tightened his grip on her crotch, and rubbed her.

He took his mouth from hers with a gasp, “And what is it you don''t want?”

“ I don't want to sell my farm.”

“ And what do you want?”

“ I want you to be my farmhand. I need a guy like you to work for me.”

“ What makes you think I'd ever want to be your farmhand when I want to own it?”

“ Cause of me.” Sarah stroked his hard cock.

Angelo reached around and grabbed Sarah's ass and pulled her against his bulging cock forcing her to spread her legs and slide up and down, savoring the intense sensations rippling through her..

“ Cause of you?” he chuckled as he moved his bulging cock up and down Sarah's jean covered pussy.

“ Yeah, you'd like having me for a boss.”

“ That isn't going to happen.”

“ We'll see” Sarah said, smiling into his eyes,“but right now let's fuck each others brains out.”

My eyes closed while I told the story and felt aroused by my description, when Angelo grabbed my hand and startled me out of the story. He tried pulling me on top of him, but I shook my hand loose and said, “I told you not to touch me while I'm telling you the story.”

“ I know what you told me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to listen.”

“ Well, then I think I'll leave.”

I shook his hand away, leaped up off the bed and, picking up my boots, ran out of his room and down the hall and knew he would follow me. I ran to the front door just as he caught up with me, but I pushed him away by butting my head against his chest and dashed into the kitchen which was a mistake because now I was trapped, but just as he reached for me, I ducked under his arms and ran into the living room, jumped on the couch and leaning my ass against the back, my tight cut-offs pressing against my crotch, kicked him away when he tried to grab me. “Stay away from me,” I yelled and leaped from the couch and ran across the plush carpet, down the hall and just before I reached the bathroom to lock myself in, he tackled me and pounced on my back as I tried to crawl away. His weight on me made it impossible to move, though I squirmed and felt his hard cock against my ass.

Somehow I found the strength to buck him off of me and crawl away. He grabbed my ankle and tried holding me, but I squirmed away, out of breath and frightened, found the strength to laugh. I don't know how. But he laughed, too.

“ That was fun, wasn't it?” I said, suddenly changing the mood.

“ I've never met anyone like you,” he said, gasping for air.

“ You never will....that's why you should let me stay here. It will be fun and I can tell you stories that will blow your mind. Don't you want to find out if Sarah makes him her farmhand?”

Just then, he stood up, reached for my hand and brought me to my feet, then surprised me with his arms embracing me in a way that made me melt into his chest. For the first time, I felt his tenderness and don't know what I felt by the sudden change, except I was confused. With his arms around me, he lowered his hands to my ass and I could feel his fingers through the thinness of my tight cut-offs, but there was something in his touch that was gentle and soothing, not seductive.

He smiled.“Come back to bed, Sherry and tell me the rest of the story.” His voice was different, softer, sweeter, and I was bewildered. It didn't sound like Angelo. My guard went up as I crawled back into bed and leaned against the pillows, but he surprised me when he gathered me in his arms to cuddle. I snuggled against him, my mind spinning, and tried to relax, but couldn't and wondered, What's going on with him?

“ So do you want to hear the rest of the story?” I asked.

“ Yes. You left off at a very hot place, please, continue.”

Still suspicious of how he was behaving and confused by his gentleness, I knew I'd better be careful and moved out of his arms and sat up. He put his hands behind his head on the pillow and smiled, gazing into my eyes.

“ Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.

“ Because you're different, challenging. I like that. You make me laugh.”

“ Good,” I said. “So you like a challenge.”

“ Sometimes. Now get on with your story, my dear.”

I closed my eyes, surprised he called me 'dear' and remembered they were going fuck each other's brains out.

In bed Sarah started out on top but Angelo pushed her roughly onto her back and got his mouth between her legs and licked and sucked until she grabbed his hair and writhing, erupted in a huge orgasm, and then he pounced on her and gripped her hands above her head, and while her screams filled the room, Angelo yelled, “I'm going to ravish you!”and pounded her into oblivion. They both fell asleep in each other's arms. In the morning, while she showered, he came into the shower and they fucked again under the cascading hot water.

After a breakfast of eggs, home fries, toast from homemade bread, Angelo asked, “So how much do you want for the farm?”

“ I told you it's not for sale, but I'll tell you what. I need a man around here to help me, why don't you stay. You can enjoy the farm without having to buy it and it will be a win win situation. What do you think?”

“ You mean, you want me to be your farmhand?”

“ Yeah, you can be a farmhand with benefits.”

Sarah knew he had money and thought maybe in time, she'd get him to help out with the expenses.

“ What makes you think I'd want to be a farmhand and have you for a boss?”

“ I'd be a nice boss. You'd like working for me and it would give me time to write my erotic stories which I would read to you.”

“ Hmmmm, sounds interesting, but I'm determined to own this farm. Maybe you would become my farmhand.”

Sarah laughed. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? Having me be your farmhand. Well, it's not going to happen.”

I stopped and looked at Angelo listening with a smile on his lips and wondered what he was thinking.

“ I think I'll stop there,” I said and yawned.

“ Come on. I want to hear what happens.”

“ I'm sure you do, but I'll tell you the rest tomorrow night. I'm sleepy.”

Then he said something that surprised and startled me. “You remind me of Sarah.”

“ I do...what do you mean? I'm nothing like Sarah.”

“ She's playing with his mind to get what she wants and that's what you're doing. You're trying to get me to let you stay here, aren't you?

“ Maybe,” I said.

“ Listen. I do want you to stay here, but not because you're telling me that story.”

“ Really. You want me to stay here. Cool! What do you mean it's not because of my story?”

“ I like how you are. You're not afraid of me. After I tackled you and was about to take you, you laughed and I felt something I had never felt before.”

“ Really.”

Though I wondered what he was feeling, I didn't want to tell him I was afraid of him even though I laughed. I couldn't stop thinking about all of the women he had fucked then got rid of. Despite the sweet smile, and the way he looked at me when he listened to my story, the way he held his hands at the back of his head and seemed relaxed while he listened, I wasn't going to let my guard down. He still had whatever anger or pain made him so dangerous; he still had the need to hurt and dominate women. Things like that don't just go away because I made him laugh. Still, he was going to let me stay there and that's what I wanted. I would write and not let him get too close to me. I'd keep him at arm's length. I knew it was dangerous, but I wanted him wrapped around my little finger. Talk about living on the edge, that's what I was going to do for as long as I could.

When I said, “Let's get some sleep,” he held out his arms to me and I knew he wanted to cuddle, but I said, let me change out of these cut-offs and went into the bathroom and changed into the little white, sheer nightgown I loved sleeping in at home. It was short and barely covered my thighs and was so comfortable.

“ Nice,” he said, looking at me when I came out of the bathroom.

I knew he could see my breasts through the thin material, but I didn't care. “This is my favorite nightgown,” I told him.

When we cuddled and I had my head on his chest, he gently rubbed my back and I was surprised how soothing his hand felt. His hand moved to my ass as I snuggled into his arms, but just as I started to feel aroused by his touch, I kissed his cheek and rolled onto my side, away from him and said, “Goodnight.” Surprised he didn't attempt to spoon with me, I turned to see he had closed his eyes and was drifting off to sleep. For a few minutes I lay next to him, my back to him and wondered why he didn't try to fuck me. Strange.

The next morning, I saw he was still sleeping, so I quietly went into the kitchen, made a pot of coffee and was writing on my laptop at the kitchen table when he came in wearing his short maroon robe, partially opened, and kissed me on the cheek and poured himself a cup of coffee.

“ What are you writing?” he asked.

“ I'm working on the end of the story I was telling you last night, so I can't stop to talk.”

“ Is that so?” He chuckled and reached for my hand and kissed it.

“ I can't wait to read it to you later,” I said and continued writing, staring at the screen.

“ I was impressed how you can tell a story like that just off the top of your head.”

“ Well, I just let my imagination go, but when I'm writing, it's just like I'm saying it out loud but then I can go back and improve the writing. I want my stories to sound spontaneous and like I'm telling it. It's the art of appearing artless. Now let me concentrate.”

“ You're quite the storyteller. I'm not used to having such a talented artist in my apartment.”

“ I know what you're used to,” I said, sarcastically, narrowing my eyes, then went back to reading what I had just written. “Now, if you will excuse me, I want to see if I can nail the end of the story so I can read it to you tonight.”

He went to the counter to pour himself another cup of coffee and then, without asking, poured more coffee into my cup, then kissed the top of my head.

“ Thanks.” I smiled up at him, then went back to writing, but thought, Why is he being so nice. It's not like him.

He stood at the counter and sipped his coffee while I continued writing, but found myself distracted by his presence and could feel him watching me and tried to block him out, but couldn't. I was wearing my sheer nightgown and looked at him against the counter with his robe open, his bulging bikini underwear, his hairy chest and legs, his longish hair, his handsome face with the shadow of a beard, his dark eyes looking at me with an intensity that made me swallow.

“ Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.

“ You fascinate me.”

“ I do? What fascinates you?”

“ How you operate? How you're trying to get what you want by telling me a story and playing with my mind. I know what you're doing?”

“ You do, do you?”

“ Yes, I'm enjoying you. You're right, you're not what I'm used to. You're entertaining. You make me laugh. You're playing hard to get and giving me a challenge when I always get what I want from my girlfriends.”

“ So, you like a challenge. Is that what you're saying?”

“ Yes, and I like winning and getting what I want. I always win.”

“ Listen, Angelo, I just want a place to write. I can't stand where I'm living. I have to get out of the house and I like telling you my stories, but I want to know your story.”

“ My story?”

“ Yeah, why do you need a harem of women to seduce, fuck and get rid of?”

“ I like it. That's why. It gives me pleasure and I like pleasure, but you're different. You're interesting, not like the bimbos I bring here.”

“ I'm glad you think I'm different and not a bimbo,” I said, but still didn't trust him. “So, does that mean I can stay here and write and you won't try to make me into one of your slaves.”

“ I don't want a slave. I want someone who is not afraid of me.”

“ I don't believe you. I think you want power over me because there's a demon in you that hates women. I'm a challenge and you still want to conquer me.”

“ No, that's not true. I want you to feel about me what I feel about you.”

“ What are you saying?”

“ I'm saying I think I'm falling in love with you.”

I couldn't believe my ears and closed my eyes and thought... Oh my god. This is crazy, but somehow found words. “You hardly know me. I've been your waitress for over a year and asked if I could stay here to write and I know my story turned you on, but I don't believe you're in love with me. You're just playing with my mind, like you think I'm playing with your mind. You like the game, the challenge of seducing someone that's not like all your other women.”

“ You sure say what you think, don't you?”

“ I try.”

He came over to me and placed his fingers on my chin, lifting my face to look into his eyes, and then he kissed me. His lips were warm and soft and I have to admit, I started to kiss him back and closed my eyes, savoring his lips, but then pulled away and said, “I better get back to work. Excuse me.”

He nodded, smiled and said, “I have to go and take care of some business, but you can come and go as you please and I'll see you after work tonight.”

“ Cool,” I said and went back to work. “You'll hear the end of the story tonight, okay.”

When I came back to the apartment after a busy night at Rosie's, I saw the vase of roses on the coffee table and Angleo sitting on the couch. A bottle of wine and two glasses were next to the flowers. Smiling, but without a word, he poured the wine, stood up and handed me a glass. We clicked and sipped and he said, “To us.”

“ To us?” I asked. “What do you mean to us?”

“ I told you, I think I'm falling in love with you.”

No man had ever said that to me before. The few guys I had dated as well as my line conversations were after one thing, and I enjoyed the relationships for as long as they lasted, but I put my writing first and didn't let myself get too involved or distracted. What Angelo said, baffled me. How could a man like Angelo love me or anyone?

He picked up the remote and turned on the soft jazz while I sipped the wine, then leaned over to smell the roses. “I love roses.”

“ Good. I will make sure there are always flowers in the apartment.”

“ Why?”

“ To let you know how much I care about you. To make sure you're happy.”

“ That's sweet of you. I will really be able to write tantalizing stories here.”

“ Good. I told you I have some friends in publishing. Maybe I can help get you published.”

“ Really, that would be great.”

“ Come here, my little storyteller.”

He took the glass from my hand, placed it on the table next to the roses along with his glass.

“ By the way, I finished the story about Sarah, do you want to hear the rest of the story.”

“ I want to make love to you.” He took my hand and pulled me gently towards him. Just as he embraced me and I smelled his cologne and the warmth of his arms, I slid away.

“ I can't wait to tell you the rest of the story and I have another one that came to me while I was walking here tonight.”

He took a deep, disappointed breath that I knew was from my sliding away from him. The tone of his voice was soft, but I couldn't let my guard down with him.

“ Come sit with me.” He sat down on the white couch and reached for my hand.

“ Do you want to hear the story here and not in bed?”

“ Yes, come here and tell me the rest of the story.”

“ I could read it to you now that's it's written.”

“ No, I just want you to tell it like you did last night.”

When I sat down, he kissed my cheek,“Lay down, Sherry, and put your head on my lap.”

When I did, he smiled down at me while I looked up at his smile and liked the way he looked at me, softly, warmly, sweetly, then I closed my eyes, trying to remember where I left off with the story last night.

“ Where was I?” I asked. “Do you remember what was happening?”

“ Yes, Sarah told him she would never be his farmhand. She said, “It's not going to happen.”

“ Oh right.” I nodded, then closed my eyes so that I could see in my mind the story I had written and began.

Sarah placed the breakfast dishes in the sink, then said, “I have to go to the barn and feed Ginger, milk the goats and feed the chickens. Why don't you come with me and get an idea what it would be like if you worked here?”

“ Sure. I'd like to take a good look at the barn to make sure it's structurally sound.”

“ Well, it's in pretty good shape and there's a hayloft that I know you would like.”

“ What makes you think I'd like the hayloft.”

“ I'll show you why,” Sarah said, winking.“Come with me.”

Sarah picked up the stainless steel milk bucket and walked in front of Angelo towards the barn and glanced back at him looking at her ass in the tight, faded jeans. In the barn, she filled up Ginger's bucket with grain. The goats were excited to see her and hopped up on the milking stand. She fed them some grain, then milked both goats while he watched. “Ever milk a goat?” she asked.

“ As a matter of fact I used to milk a cow when I was a kid. I grew up on a farm in Ohio.”

“ Is that so?”

“ That's why I'm looking for a farm. I've made a lot of money in my various businesses, but I need a change. I want out of the rat race and that's why I want to buy this farm. It's just what I've been looking for. It reminds me of home.”

“ Well, too bad it's not for sale, but maybe you'll change your mind and stick around and help me with this place. Wouldn't you like to be a farmhand with benefits?”

“ I think I'd like it the other way around. I think having a woman like you as a farmhand would be like icing on the cake.”

“ Is that so?”

“ Yes. I' think we could have a lot of fun. You'd have time to write sexy stories for me and I'd own the farm and you.”

“ You think you'd own me.”

“ Yes.”

“ No one will ever own me. I like my independence.”

“ I can tell you like your independence but I like to get what I want. I told you that.”

“ Well, this time you're not going to get what you want, so you can get back in your spiffy car and take off. I can always get a farmhand from around here.”

“ Not one with a lot of money.”

Sarah knew he was right and that she didn't want him to leave. She stood up and pushed him aside with her hip and walked towards the ladder to the hayloft. “Wanna see the hayloft?”

“ Sure.” Angelo followed her.

Sarah climbed the ladder and knew that Angelo was just below him and was looking up at her ass. Once in the hayloft, Sarah bent over to pick up some straw and could feel her tight jeans straining. She sniffed it then brought a handful to Angelo and held it to his nose to smell, then surprised him by throwing it onto his head and laughed.

“ Hey!” Angelo grabbed Sarah's wrist.“That's not funny.”

“ Yes, it is. You look good with straw in your hair.”

“ Who do you think you are?”

“ I know who I am. Who do you think you are thinking you can buy my farm and own me?”

Angelo brushed the straw from his hair, then grabbed Sarah's wrist. “Do you want me to leave?”

His grip on Sarah's wrist was tight as he pulled her closer, his mouth an inch from her's, their eyes glaring into each other's eyes. Rather than pull away, she said. “You don't want to leave. You want to see if you can make me your little farmhand and own my farm, but that's not going to happen. I know men like you. You think the world revolves around what you want. You think you can take what you want, don't you?”

“ Yes and you think you can seduce me into being your farmhand and get what you want.”

I stopped and looked up at Angelo smiling down at me, gently stroking my hair.

“ Why did you stop?” he asked.

“ Last night you said you thought I was like Sarah.”

“ That's true. You are like Sarah.”

“ Do you think you're like the guy in the story?”

“ Yes. I like getting what I want and always do. Do you think you're like Sarah?”

“ I don't know.”I answered, wondering if he was right. “I'll have to think about that. Why do you think I'm like Sarah?”

“ Because you're trying to entice me with your story so that you can live here and get out of your house. You're trying to get what you want just like Sarah.”

I knew he was right, but I also wanted to hurt him the way he hurt women and I wasn't going to let that happen to me. I wanted to torture him.

“ So, you think I'm teasing you to get what I want. Playing games. Do you want me to leave?”

“ No. I told you I think I'm falling in love with you. I'm enjoying your story, and no woman has ever made me laugh when I was about to fuck them. I don't know what happened when I saw you were not afraid of me. You surprised me and I knew I wanted you to stay with me.”

“ Thank you. That's very sweet of you. I'm going to enjoy living here, writing, telling you stories every night, sexy stories. You'll see what a wild imagination I have.”

“ I can tell you have a wild imagination by the story you're telling now. I want to know what happens with them. Will she make him her farmhand with benefits or will he own the farm and her?”

(to be continued)