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It was pointless to try to squirm from under him, because he'd put his weight against me making it hard for me to move and all my squirming and resisting would only serve to excite him more.
"Don't you call for your Momma, I know you don't want her to find out what you're doing down here with me, do you?" He'd warn me. Just the thought of her coming in and seeing me with him, I knew she would believe him over me. I did try to talk to Momma about Brent once, but as soon as his name came up, she immediately got defensive before I could tell her anything about what had been happening. Seeing her reaction, I didn't attempt to discuss him with her again, but doubled my efforts to stay away from home and if I couldn't do that then to stay clear of Brent and Mark. The very real possibility of her believing him and hating me was enough to make me quite struggling and let him do what he wanted, and after a while, I stopped fighting him.
Perhaps a week or so later, Momma was upstairs napping and I was in the kitchen at the sink getting dinner ready. There was a large window over the sink backsplash and up until then I had always enjoyed working at the sink because I could stand there looking out that window into the garden which in the spring and summer was always filled with flowers. I didn't realize that Brent was even home until he came up behind me and pulled my tank top down exposing my breasts. He spun me around and put his mouth on my breasts, first one and then the other sucking and licking them. I think he sensed I was about to scream, and the bastard sucked my tit so hard he left teeth marks around the aureole. I gasped in pain and surprise and he warned me not to make a sound or he would tell Momma I had been up to my old seduction games. I stood there meekly while he licked and kissed the newly blossoming bruise and stroked himself. He suddenly stood up when he heard movement upstairs, which meant Momma was up, walking around. He gave my tits a last kiss and squeeze and with a final look of warning walked casually out of the kitchen and upstairs. I stood there shaken, tears welling up in my eyes. I pulled myself together and when I adjusted my top and lifted my head I saw Mark standing there in the garden . . . he had seen that whole disgusting episode.
As the summer wore on Brent's attention was drawn in other directions, he had married Momma, and become even more involved in the running of the farm and a new venture that involved cutting down and selling some of the trees on the property for lumber. I felt out of place on the farm as if I no longer belonged there. In addition to my job at Woolworth, I also diligently worked a part time job that would allow me to save money and move away. I had approached my Mom regarding wanting to move and actually asked her for a loan to help me do that, but she refused to help me saying their money situation was tight and she didn't have the money to lend me. Of course, I was disappointed and I asked her to keep my plans just between us, and she assured me she would . . . she lied.
I tried keeping my distance from Brent and my strategy seemed to be working until he caught me alone while currying my horse in the rear barn.
"Hey Beth, how you doing?" I heard his voice and froze.
"How's my baby girl?" He asked as he advanced on me.
I turned around to face him, my eyes darting nervously about the barn trying to find a path of escape. He kept talking and coming toward me, and as he came closer, I would step backward trying to maintain that distance between us.
"How's your Grandma doing? I know she must have enjoyed your visiting her. You know Bethy, since you came home, I've had the feeling that you've been avoiding me . . . why is that?"
"I haven't been avoiding you Brent, I responded, I've been busy that's all."
"Oh, is that it?" He asked, now within arm's reach of me.