0 comments/ 125502 views/ 17 favorites Going Down on the Farm(ers) By: sarahhh The funeral sucked. "But then, they usually do," Sarah muttered as she wiped the streaming tears from her misty deep-blue eyes. Uncle Jim's wife, Caroline, had been loved by all, which made the grief almost unbearable. Lou Gehrig's disease had turned a vibrant, beautiful, intelligent, loving woman into a vegetable and then a corpse. As Sarah's family drove home, her mother couldn't stop weeping. "Caroline is in a better place now," Sarah's father consoled. "She's up in heaven with the angels." "Daddy?" "Yes, Sarah?" "What do they do up in heaven?" "Well, there's no sex in heaven. So I guess they play cards or SCRABBLE or something." "Daddy, the Bible says there is no marriage in heaven, not no sex. Reverend Jackson told me that's to make up for all the...uh...confusion about fornication down here on earth There's lots of blessed sex up in heaven. There's even sex down in hell. But it's damned in Satan's nether world, and they get STD's, according to Reverend Jackson. And all the fallen angels who had sex with human women have genital herpes." "Honey, I don't like that church you've been attending. They're more liberal than the UU's." "Ewe Ewes? I never heard of that church, Daddy. Is it in West Virginia? I heard a lot of funny stuff goes on there. You know, like incest and...bestiality—shagging sheep." "Honey, I'm talking about the Unitarian Universalists. What I don't like about Reverend Jackson is that I heard he accepts gays into his church, and preaches that masturbation is not a sin." "Oh shit," Sarah whispered to herself, "I hope he didn't see my new vibrator on the night stand when he came in to wake me up this morning." "Sarah?" "Yes, Mom?" "Your father and I have been talking. We think you should spend the summer with Uncle Jim. He needs someone to...uh...help out. Cook, clean, that sort of thing. I mean, Jim has that big dog farm to run. He would never ask, but I think that's the least we can do, don't you? And your cousin Tim needs the loving care of a woman." Sarah looked like she might regurgitate. "Timmy is such a nerd!" Sarah blurted. "I don't really want to be his mother, ya know? Can't you hire someone? Don't they have surrogate mothers or some such thing?" Sarah reminisced about a funny story her late Aunt Caroline told about Timmy and how she breast fed him until he was seven. He would pester her at the most inopportune times in stores and everywhere else with, "I want the breasty!" The way he stared at Sarah's bosom at the funeral, she thought he still had "Got milk?" on his mind. I should have worn a bra, she surmised. "But you're his flesh and blood, Sarah," her mother admonished. "So are you, Mom. Jim is your brother. And Tim is your nephew. Why don't you do them...uh...I mean...be their maid or cook or whatever." "Because I have to work. You have nothing planned for the summer but sleeping until noon, beach bumming and partying." "Yeah, so? I need a break. Last semester was tough. But I made the Dean's List didn't I? High honors, too." "Yes, that you did, Sarah," her father agreed, "We're very proud of you." "Okay then, it's settled, I'm not going to spend the summer with Uncle Jim and Cousin Tim!" "Sarah, you keep insisting you need a new car," her father bribed. "Yeah, well, I told you Daddy, I need a sports car. I mean, do I look like Ford Focus material?" "What rhymes with Porsche?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye. "Uh...of course?" "So you'll do it?" "For a Porsche—of course—a Boxster. Basalt black metallic exterior. Graphite grey/ black interior." "I'll buy you new floor mats for your Focus." "Well, I guess I won't be spending any part of this summer with Uncle Jim and Cousin Tim helping them forget the loss of a wife and mother." "I expect to hear reports that you are getting along famously with your uncle and cousin," her father cautioned. "Make that a Boxster S, Daddy." "Don't press your potential good fortune, young lady." "But Daddy, the S has a 3.2 liter engine that delivers noticeably more thrust than what's on tap from the 2.7 liter. The S has firmer suspension tuning. But what I like most are the bright red calipers, easily seen through the elegant spokes of its specially designed wheels. Gotta have 'em!" "I've made my final offer," he father muttered with a frown. "You go down on the farm and then you get a Boxster, but no S, not for $9,000 more, just for some bright red calipers and a bigger engine." "No, Daddy, when I have the car, I'll go down on the farm and spend quality time down with Uncle Jim and Cousin Tim. And since I lost my license for those speeding tickets, I want Roxanne to go with me. She can drive the car. Besides, she's a much better cook than I am. Uncle Jim will be real happy to have her. You know, I still can't believe that cop busted me all those times. He's gay, you know. Only way a cop would give me a ticket." "Honey, I don't know about Roxanne," her father objected. "She's so wild and crazy." "Daddy, you are such a prude! Roxanne was just being funny when you dressed up as Santa for Christmas and she sat on your lap." "I didn't think that was funny, Sarah," her mother growled. "Your father ejaculated in those red wool Santa pants he borrowed from his boss. I couldn't wash them. They had to go to the dry cleaners." "I couldn't help it," Sarah's father said to her mother, "the way Roxanne squirmed and wiggled on me..." "Yeah Daddy, talk about a lap dance!" *** "This sucker really rips," Roxie complimented, as she took the sharp curves at about eighty on the way to the farm. "Yeah, but I really wish I could drive my own new car," Sarah complained miserably. "Hey, you should have told that gay cop you'd put on a baseball hat and a fake beard and moustache and give him a blow job." Roxie's silky, long black hair blew wickedly in the wind. Sarah had put her red tresses up in pigtails. "You know, Roxie, I'm more than a little apprehensive about riding in this convertible naked. Did you notice how people in other cars and pedestrians have been staring at us?" "I'd be more worried about sunburn, girlfriend. You got some kind of white skin, paleface. Better put some more sun screen on." Sarah did. "Need some?" she asked Roxie. "On my breasts, please." Sarah did, toying with Roxie's nipples playfully. "I think we should put our tops on," Sarah suggested. "No way. I told you, I need to work on my tan. A real tan. You can tell the difference, you know. I just love it when some dipshit dude asks, "Are you tan from the sun?" and I answer, "No, I'm Roxanne from the earth." She giggled. "Well, Roxie, I don't mind being naked, as you well know. But I don't really want to get arrested either. Actually, I love being naked." "And why do you love being naked?" Roxie asked, with a twinkle in her eyes. "Oh, I suppose...okay...I'll admit it...I like it when people...uh...admire my body." "Admire? Remember when we went skinny dipping with our English professor and his friend? I'd call that worship. It got us A's. You got some great tits. Me, I hardly have anything up top." "You're all nipples, Roxie," Sarah marveled as she teased them again with her fingers. "I can't believe how big the tips get. You could poke somebody's eye out." "But my tits are so small. I need a boob job. Could you lend me the $10,000? Shit, you're loaded. You just bought this new car." "$10,000? You've got to be kidding. No way, Roxie. You can get a good boob job for half that much. Why don't you just use the toilet paper method?" "Hey, I need twice as much boob as your normal flat-chested woman. What's the toilet paper method?" "Well, Roxie, every morning when you get up you just scrunch up a handful of toilet paper and rub it between your breasts, and eventually they definitely will get larger." "You've got to be kidding, Sarah, how the hell is that supposed to work?" "Beats me, but it sure worked on your ass!" Sarah giggled hysterically and Roxie reached over and slapped her playfully. "Funny, you never complained about my ass before, Sarah, especially when you did me with the strap-on and your big blue fake dick." "You got an ass like a guy—big, fat, and hairy," Sarah joked. "Why do you love being naked, Roxie?" "It's much easier to negotiate sex when you're naked. Ya know, girlfriend, this stick shift is making me horny as hell. Wish it was twisting in my pussy instead of my hand. Why don't you give me a buddy suck?" "While you're driving my new car?" "Sure, why not? I used to suck off Nick, my last boyfriend, all the time while he drove. He's swerve all over the road when he shot his load in my mouth." "That doesn't sound very safe to me." "Since when are you into safe sex, Sarah? You hate condoms." "I don't like the smell of burning rubber. Unless I'm peeling out, which I have yet to do in my new Porsche. Another two months and I get my license back." "So what about it, girlfriend, how about a buddy suck?" "You said that. Do you promise to keep your eyes on the road and not to swerve and stuff?" "Sure I do." Sarah leaned over and began to tickle Roxie's ears with her lips. And then her neck. Her breasts. Her navel. Roxie wriggled and squirmed when Sarah tongued her belly button, and lower, to her neatly trimmed muff. "Would you like me to go down on you, Roxie?" Sarah purred. "Sure I would. But I better pull over. I don't see the slightest possibility of my being capable of keeping my left foot on the clutch, my right foot on the gas, my left hand on the steering wheel, and my right hand on the stick shift while you are tongue-fucking my pussy." Roxie pulled off the road and spread her legs eagerly. They never heard the police car pull up behind them. They never heard the officer approach the Porsche. In fact, he had stood there watching for ten minutes. Finally Roxie saw him out of the corner of her eye. "Uh...Sarah...I think we...uh...may have a..." "Just what in the hell do you two think you are doing?" the officer, a large heavyset man in his forties asked belligerently. "I think this is called cunnilingus," Sarah responded matter-of-factly. "I'm going to have to arrest you two for indecent exposure and engaging in public sex." "But officer, we're trying to get a tan!" Roxie protested. "Oh really? Well, I can't say as I mind the view. You two are gorgeous, but you just can't go around having sex wherever you want." "Oh really?" Roxie mimicked, winking at the officer. "You have a really big bulge in your pants. Just how big are you, anyway?" "Almost nine inches," he stated proudly. "Yeah, well I bet I can get all of you in my mouth." "You think?" "I sure do. Wanna see?" "Uh...yeah...I think I would...I—" Roxie got out of the car, naked. She unzipped the officer's pants and freed his eager penis. "Yep, just about nine inches, and nice and thick, too. Would you like me to make it disappear, honey?" Roxie didn't wait for an answer. She grabbed her blouse from the car, threw it on the ground, and kneeled. She began to kiss and nibble the head of his cock. "Officer, I guess you're going to forget about arresting us?" Sarah inquired as Roxie started to suck enthusiastically. "Ohhh...ahhhh...of...of...course," he readily agreed, grimacing in pleasure as he pulled Roxie by the head down on him. He groaned loudly as Roxie tilted her head back and popped him all the way down her throat. *** Sarah and Roxie got to the dog farm but nobody seemed to be home. "Let's go down to the lake and go for a swim." "Sounds like a plan, Sarah." "Should we put on our suits?" "What the hell for? We want to get tan, real tan, a real real tan." Sarah directed Roxie to the lake bordering her uncle's property. They got out of the car and jumped in the water. "Let's swim around the bend, Roxie. There's a pier. Uncle Jim fishes there." The father and eighteen-year-old son indeed fished off the pier. Two beautiful golden retrievers lounged in the sun on the bank. They rose and barked as the two girls emerged from the water. Jim yelled for them to be quiet and one starting humping the other. "Close your eyes, Tim," the father insisted as he put a blindfold over his son's eyes with his hands. The teenager pushed his father's hands away. "I don't think so, Dad. You don't see hooters like those on the redhead except in magazines. I miss Mom. I want the breasty!" "But she's—" "Hey Dad, now you know how Tom Hanks felt in Splash." "That's your cousin Sarah, Tim." "Dang, I didn't even recognize her with no clothes on and her hair all wet and in pigtails. I thought that other one was a guy at first, until...uh...yeah, but she's hot too. Dang, she's got some long legs." Sarah waved. "Hello, Uncle Jim! Hi, Timmy!" She hugged them both warmly. "This is my friend, Roxanne. Mom told you she was coming too." Jim took off his shirt. "Please put this on, Sarah. Tim, give the other young lady your shirt." He did, reluctantly. "I'm not wearing a shirt," Roxie insisted. "Your tits are bigger than mine," she said to Jim. "What's the problem? Don't you like them? Anything bigger than a mouthful is a waste, so some say." "I want the breasty!" Tim shouted again hopefully. "Well...uh...yes...I...uh—" Jim stuttered. "I'm not wearing a shirt either, Uncle Jim. Don't be such a prude!" "Well...uh...okay...I guess." "What did you catch?" Roxie asked. Tim held up the carp. "Well, it's carp for dinner, then," Roxie acknowledged. "Although Sarah already had fish today." They giggled and poked each other. *** During their delicious carp dinner which Roxie prepared, she commented, "Tim, you're not eating." "It's difficult for me to concentrate on food when you and Sarah are sitting at the table naked. But thank you, Lord, for naked hot babes! I forgot that part when I said grace." "I don't think you like carp," Roxie observed. "Maybe you'd like some cherry flip or bearded clam? How about a tuna taco? Did you ever eat beaver?" "Huh?" Tim blurted, baffled. "You know, Uncle Jim, you guys really have some beautiful dogs," Sarah said, tactfully changing the subject. "Yeah, and they sure like to hump," she whispered to Roxie. "Oh, you like dogs?" Jim inquired. "I do," Roxie interjected. "I like a dog's knot." "What?" Jim and Tim both uttered, confused. "I have an Alstation," Roxie began to explain. "Took him to the vet the other day. Two other dogs were in the waiting room, a Kelpie and a pit bull. My dog says to the other two, 'So what are you guys here for?' The Kelpie replies, 'I'm being put down. I climbed up the wall, pulled down a rare piece of art, shat on it, and then dug a hole through the middle.' My dog says, 'Wow, man...too bad, dude.' The pit bull laments, 'I'm being put down also...I bumped my owner's son over the porch and broke his leg. So what are you here for?' he asked my dog who answers, 'Well, my owner was in the shower and I couldn't help myself. I bounded in, pushed her over and then mounted her from behind our style.' 'Wow, she must be really pissed off...so she's getting you put down too?' the Kelpie inquired. 'Oh no, I'm here to get my nails clipped,' my dog says, smiling." "Roxie! I don't think you should be telling my uncle and virgin cousin smutty stories," Sarah chastised. "Well, excuse me!" Roxie snapped. "Timmy, you are a virgin, right?" Sarah asked, eyebrows raised. "Well...uh...yeah...I...uh...guess. Auntie Jane did let me lap her crotch at my eighteenth birthday party. Auntie called it her quimcake. But she said oral isn't sex and she voted for Clinton, at least a dozen times." "But Auntie Jane is so old!" "Yes, dear cousin, but who can tell in the dark? I want the breasty! So she let me suck on her nipples. Didn't get any milk, though. Sarah, you got milk?" Sarah ignored him. "What do you all suggest we do for the rest of the evening?" she asked, "Do you have any games we could play? SCRABBLE or something?" "We have SCRABBLE," Jim responded. "Tim, go get it." Sarah noticed a bottle of pills sitting on the dining room table. She read the label of the product called MORE HEAT. The label said the product contained ingredients like aboutonia, ascorbic acid, blood group antigens, calcium, chlorine, choline, citric acid, dreatine, deoxyribonucleic acid, fructose, glutathione, hyaluronidase, ininositol, lactic acid, magnesium, nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium, purine, pyretic acid, sodium, sorbitol, spermadine, spermine, urea, uric acid, vitamin B12, and zinc. Roxie whispered to Sarah, "That's the same stuff that's in semen. I know, I had my stomach pumped once and the contents analyzed. My father thought I took a drug overdose because I came home looking like a zombie. Actually, it was just your typical frat party—get on your knees...and please, please, please." "What's this medicine for?" Sarah inquired of her uncle. Jim replied, "Some of the female dogs we breed, even when they're in heat, don't seem all that eager to mate with the males. This...uh...female libido enhancement...uh...makes them...uh..." "Real horny?" "Uh...yeah, Sarah, I guess so. It sure does work." "Jim, do you think Sarah and I could have an alcoholic beverage while we play the game?" Roxie requested slyly. "Sure." He got up to get them. Roxie took a big handful of the pills, and split them with Sarah. They washed them down quickly with the brew which Jim returned with in mugs. Tim got the game and set it out on the dining room table, and Roxie piped up with, "Let's play naked!" "You are naked," Jim observed, finally becoming a little more comfortable with the concept. "C'mon Uncle Jim, be a sport," Sarah begged. "We won't be able to see anything below your waist, anyway, sitting up to the table like that. It'll be fun. You've already seen us in our birthday suits, so what's the big deal?" "Yeah, Dad," Tim urged, "what's the big deal?" "Well, I guess I'm outvoted three to one." The father and son removed their clothing self-consciously, not standing up to do so. "One more suggestion before we start," Roxie purred. "You can only make words that have something to do with...sex!" "Well, I just don't know—" Jim began to resist. "My God, Uncle Jim, you're more of a prude than my dad!" Sarah shouted, annoyed. "C'mon, Dad," Tim pleaded, "this will be educational. You never did tell me about the birds and the bees." "Oh I suppose it won't do any harm," Jim finally conceded. They all agreed to let the youngest, Tim, go first. He made the word "BED" horizontally. Tim insisted he be permitted to use his Webster's New World Dictionary and Thesaurus because he said he didn't trust the girls. "What the fuck, Tim, don't you know how to spell "BED" I wonder?" Roxie complained. "Geez, dude, get real!" "Hey, whatever, Roxie," Sarah said, "let the little dick use his dictionary." Roxie went next and made the word "FELLATE," using her own six tiles and Tim's E. Tim quickly consulted the dictionary. "Not," he objected. "No such word as 'FELLATE' that I can see. It goes from 'fell' to 'fellow.' Sorry." "It's a word, I swear!" Roxie roared, upset by his challenge. "What does it mean, then?" Tim inquired. "Did you ever have your cock sucked?" Roxie inquired, arrogantly. "Well...uh...no...uh...but...uh..." Tim stuttered. "That's what I thought, you stupid little shit," Roxie ranted. "No wonder you don't know what 'FELLATE' means." "If you show me what it means, I'll accept the word," Tim acquiesced shyly. Roxie just gave him a dirty look, but then smiled seductively. Jim went next. He put an S on Tim's "BED." "Brilliant, Uncle Jim, absolutely brilliant," Sarah jibed. She used his S and made "SEMEN" vertically. Going Down on the Farm(ers) "Hey, I think you spell that "S-E-A-M-A-N" don't you?" Tim challenged. "We're not talking sailors here, Timmy. We're talking about spunk...spooge. Don't you burp the worm and choke the chicken and shake the snake?" "Huh?" Roxie reached under the table surreptitiously and began to talk to Timmy in five finger lingo as he made the word "MILK" off the M in Sarah's "SEMEN." As soon as he laid the tiles, Roxie used the N in "SEMEN" and did "NUTS." "I'm not going to even...uh...uhh...ask...uhhhh...what that...uhhhhh..." Tim conceded breathlessly as Roxie made him squirt and spurt in her soft, friendly hand. "Poor Timmy, did you bust a nut?" she whispered in his ear. Jim took his L tile and put it between the A in "FELLATE" and the E in "SEMEN" and made the word "ALE." "Can't you make any words better than that, Uncle Jim?" Sarah snapped at him again, this time extremely sarcastically. "And what does 'ALE' have to do with sex, anyway?" "Well, way back when I was in college and single, I could persuade girls to have sex with me if I got them real drunk." "Would you please get us another brew, Jim?" "Sure, Roxie." "What is this really good shit, anyway?" "You're drinking Pious Monk Dunkel, Roxie—a surprisingly mellow dark style lager. It has a delightful clean and roasty aroma, 'eh? Low on the hop bitterness level. Sarah is drinking a Pipe Organ Pale Ale. Heavier on the hops, but the caramel maltiness balances its profile quite nicely. Only the best English hops—East Kent Goldings." "Damn, Jimmy, the way you talk makes me hot! I love that fake English accent. Yeah, this lager shit is good, but I could still smoke a joint—yours. Since we're talking pipe organs and such, maybe I should play your skin flute?" "If you wish, Roxie." Jim rose, forgetting he had no pants on. "Oh my, Jim!" Roxie squealed. "You have a big boner!" "That will be my word!" Sarah exclaimed excitedly, no longer worried about her next move. She did "BONER" on the E in "FELLATE" and then smiled smugly. "Hey now, those two go together, now don't they? What do you do for a boner? Fellate it!" She and Roxie cackled like two chickens about to get their heads chopped off. Tim made the word "BOOB" on Sarah's B in "BONER." Roxie made "BLOW" on Tim's B in "BOOB." Jim made "LINGAM" on Roxie's L in "BLOW." Sarah made "QUIM" on Jim's M in "LINGAM." Tim made "GONAD" on Jim's G in "LINGAM." Sarah gave him an odd look. "Hey, I took a sex education class," he responded bashfully. Roxie sighed dramatically, and made the word "SHAG" on her own S in "NUTS." Everyone looked more than a little bored. "Fuck SCRABBLE," she abruptly grumbled. "I'd rather do it than make words about it on some stupid game board." She reached over and held Sarah's face in her hands. Softly Roxie brushed her friend's lips with her own. And then she really kissed her. They both stood and wantonly explored each other's bodies with fingers and tongues. "Do you like that, girlfriend?" Roxie asked as she pulled her middle finger from Sarah's pussy, licked the juice off her finger and smiled wickedly. "Yes, but I like your tongue better," Sarah joked seriously, if that's possible. Roxie pushed Sarah to the plush oriental rug on the floor and knelt between her friend's long, lovely legs and licked, nibbled, and kissed, the inside of Sarah's thighs from her knees to her crotch. Softly, so softly. Roxie began to suck on her clit. Little sucks. Pulling on it and letting it go. Then she alternated the sucking with flicking her tongue all over and all around. Gently at first. As Roxie felt Sarah gradually respond more and more, she picked up the pace. Harder. Faster. "Oh my...oh yeah...ohhhh yeah...ahhhh...my...damn...I...uhhhh..." "Shit!" Roxie screeched. "I bit my tongue." Droplets of blood ran down her chin. She ran off to the bathroom to check it out in the mirror. "Roxie!" Sarah called frantically. "Roxie! You can't stop now! Timmy! Get your ass over here. Get down and do me like you did Auntie Jane." He did so as quickly as humanly possible. "Dang it, Timmy! Not like that, you stupid snot! Auntie Jane liked the licking like that? Geez! You're not eating a whopper with cheese, dude!" "Sorry, Sarah. Tell me how you like me to lick it." She grabbed his slippery tongue with her fingers and put it right on the panic button. "There you go, Timmy, just don't try to talk." "But...I...can't...uh...breathe...I..." Sarah smacked him upside the head and pulled him down on her by the ears. She soon screamed in ecstasy and said words that made her Uncle Jim cringe. "Dang, boy, you sure took me for some mustache ride," Sarah murmured appreciatively as she wound down. "I don't shave yet." "No matter. It's the principle that counts. Now it's your turn," Sarah said to her uncle Jim. "Would you like some?" He nodded like a woodpecker. The father pushed his son away and got down between his niece's legs. "No, Uncle Jim, not that. I want you to fuck me. Let's bounce bellies and bump fuzzies, shall we? And after you fuck me, I'm going to fuck your cherry son. But maybe I'll suck him off good first. I don't want him shooting his sploit on me before he ever gets it in me." Sarah pulled Jim toward her and guided the head of his cock into her ready, juicy pussy. Jim quickly rammed it in to the hilt. He hoed the garden like a horny whorticulturalist, jumping and pumping and humping, and bumping. But Sarah pushed him out and off. "Easy, Uncle Jim, easy. I'd like this to last longer than a slam-bam-thank you ma'am. I better control the action, for my satisfaction." Jim's cell phone sitting on the table rang just then. He reluctantly answered it. His sister, Sarah's mother. "I can't really talk right now," he insisted, staring down at his huge and hurting hard-on. "But yes, Sarah and I are getting along famously. Why uh...uh...we just did...uh...had...a wonderful dinner Roxanne prepared. And now...uh...we are playing SCRABBLE. You know how I hate to be interrupted while I'm...uh...playing board games. And yes, she is being real nice to Tim, also. Why, she just promised to...uh...well, listen I have to go. Call you back a little later." He terminated the call. He hurried back over to Sarah and she directed him to lay on his back. Jim's erect cock reached for the sky. She covered him with her body and slowly began to slip his manhood inside her wet and hungry pussy. Slowly, so slowly. Inch by inch. And then it was all the way in. She leaned forward and arched her back and rocked on Jim's cock. "This is the trick, Uncle Jim. Don't buck like a cowgirl. Rock. Like this. Rock-a-bye-baby. Oh baby!" "Hey, what about me?" Tim complained vociferously. "You just hang onto your dick, Timmy," and you'll get your first piece of ass real soon, but in the meantime, why don't you come over here and put your cock between my lip gloss?" She didn't have to ask twice. Sarah took Tim's cock in her hand and played with it fondly with almost a look of familial pride and love. Then she put him in her mouth and slid her moistened tongue over the head until her lips closed around the shaft just behind the corona, and began to slowly slide it in and out of her mouth. Then faster. "Timmy, I'm surprised your pork hasn't popped yet," Sarah remarked, quite amazed. "Roxie jerked me off under the table while we played SCRABBLE," he admitted sheepishly. "She gave me a better hand job than I give myself. I mean, she pulled my puppet like she wanted to tear the head right off!" "Well, I guess we won't have to worry about premature ejaculation then, when you get a chance to dip your wick in the honey pot, for your first time ever. It will be even better than Roxie's hand, or my mouth. Promise." None of them heard the knock at the door. That didn't bother the neighbor, the ninety-six year old Bertha, who barged right in, naked. "Ber...Ber...Ber...tha—" Jim stuttered. "Oh my dear God, Dad, she...she...she's...totally...naked!" Tim cried as he pulled his cock out of Sarah's ministering mouth with one long slurping motion. Sarah slipped off Jim's pulsating cock and stood in shock. "Damn right I'm naked!" Bertha squealed, delighted by the scene. "I've been watching you all through my front window with binoculars. And just why are you all naked and having so much fun?" she asked, fingering her sparsely covered with gray hair pussy. Oh, and you're playing naked SCRABBLE." Bertha inquired, bemused. "What's this word on the board. 'QUIM'? What's that?" Jim and Tim looked at each anxiously as they stroked their cocks with gusto, both so totally eager to shoot a really big wad down someone's throat or other bodily orifice. "Son, you're going to have to blow me if I don't get some relief soon," Jim whined. "I'll suck your dick if you suck mine, Dad." "Quim is your angel smile, Bertha," Roxie advised. "You know—your dick garage. A vertical taco. The whisker biscuit." "Oh, I have one of those!" Bertha squealed. "But it hasn't been a dick garage for many, many years. More than forty, I think, when my husband died." Bertha had her cell phone with her and started to make a call. "Who are you calling?" Jim asked. "The police," she replied. "You all are disturbing the peace." "You're the one who is disturbing the piece," Tim blubbered, and it's my very first one. "Bertha, I thought we were friends," Jim said, confused by her apparent hostility. "We can be friends—fucking friends. You two guys make my quim quiver and quake and I won't call the cops," Bertha offered matter-of-factly. "I want a...uh...I want...uh...an..." "Orgasm?" Jim suggested. "Well, hell, it's been almost a half century," Bertha bitched. "Can't I have one last wish before I die?" "Sure, honey," Timmy readily agreed. "I'm so horny I'd screw a donut. Without the hole. I'll make my own." "Uh yes, hormones," Bertha sighed. "I wish I still had some." "Don't worry, baby," Tim encouraged, "I've got enough hormones for the both of us." "Promises, promises," Bertha said hopefully. "Tim, go get the K-Y Jelly from the medicine cabinet," the father ordered. "I think the quim might be a little dry." But not for long. "Bertha, do you have a will?" Roxie asked while they waited on Tim and the K-Y. "Why...uh...no. I don't really have all that much. Just the house. I quit driving years ago and sold my car. I do have an old trunk full of silver dollars that my late husband collected. He didn't believe in banks." "Here, take a couple of these pills," Sarah suggested. "I'll help you write a will while Roxie gets you ready for some...uh...uh..." Bertha pointed to the word "SHAG" on the board. "Exactly!" Sarah cried. "See, you never forget. Just spread your legs and scream 'Oh baby!' over and over. It's not like this is rocket science and subject to technological innovation. Doing the funky monkey has been basically the same since the time of Adam and Eve." "Yeah, just ride the bologna pony," Roxie added. "Take the old one-eye to the optometrist." Roxie got her vibrator and gave Bertha a buzz. She told Tim to liberally apply the K-Y. Bertha sealed her fate when she took her false teeth out and her moustache made Jim feel like he was fucking a pussy. But Tim's raging hard-on turned limp. "Dad, can we turn out the lights?" "Sure, Son. Like you said—they all look the same in the dark. Me, I'm just closing my eyes. But whatever works for you." And then Jim bent Bertha over. And then Tim bent Bertha over. And then Bertha fell over, stone cold dead. They all helped write her obituary. "Bertha Madison, age ninety-six, died happily in bed. Bertha had no living blood relatives but she is survived by her neighbors and good friends Jim and Tim, and her adopted nieces Roxie and Sarah. In her later years Bertha's favorite activity was bird watching and she spent many hours at her front window with binoculars." "But Sarah, Bertha didn't die on the bed," Roxie complained. "She was on all fours on the oriental rug by the bed with her wrinkled ass up in the air." "Close enough, Roxie, close enough. Jim and Tim put her on the bed after she croaked." "Yeah, so they did," Roxie conceded. "I still can't believe that little shit Timmy wanted to fuck her again as rigor mortis began to set in." After the funeral and Bertha's body was laid to rest, Roxie searched frantically in her purse as they returned in the funeral car. She looked at Sarah suspiciously. "Where the fuck is my vibrator?" "Bertha took it with her," Sarah whispered, as the driver looked back at them. "Shit," Roxie pouted. "Something about funerals turns me on, ya know?" "Me too. We should go down under," Sarah cooed. "Yes we should indeed," Roxie agreed enthusiastically. They both lifted the fronts of their black mourning dresses. No panties. "Don't mind me," the driver commented stoically. "I'm not into the hatchet wound that never heals. If you two had one-eyed spit monkeys, I might be inclined to watch. Thanks, but no thanks, I'll keep my eyes on the road." * * * No, Sarah and Roxie didn't spend the summer with Jim and Tim after all. Jim and Tim really didn't need them because Bertha left them enough money for a butler, a cook, and two French maids. Roxie got a boob job and Sarah traded the car for a Boxster S. The two girls had enough money left for a trip down under to Byron Bay, Australia. They spent the rest of the summer frolicking nude on one of the most famous beaches in Australia, and of course going down under. * * * Author's Note: If you list me as one of your favorite authors, you can easily tell when I have new stories.