1 comments/  84932 views/  0 favorites

A Roll in the Hay

By: touchofclass2930



When he first appeared on my screen, I thought he was just another client looking to buy time. But as we exchanged quick-witted banter, I learned that he was a cop. Interesting, I thought so I kept the conversation rolling along. I was drawn in by his quick wit and charm. 

After a few hours of online chatting, he urged me to call him, but I was unsure of just what his intentions were. Curiosity got the best of me and to my surprise I found myself dialing his number the next day thinking that his voice would surely satisfy that curiosity I had. It only intensified the feeling. His laugh made me smile and the conversation was so easy. I felt my guard slipping ever so slowly away and thinking that this one just may be that person I was secretly searching for. He asked me to meet him that afternoon since he was working in my area and I agreed once again thinking that this would surely put an end to my silly schoolgirl thoughts. 

I left my office with little hesitation that afternoon. I pulled in to the place that we agreed to meet and was pleasantly surprised at just how cute he was. The conversation was easy and I decided to just go ahead and ask what it was that he was wanting from me, knowing that he was aware of my night job, I thought surely this would be it. No such luck on my part, his brutal honesty about being in a long-term relationship that was heading south did trip me up a bit. Thinking all right, now we have the sob story about the terrible home life we are going to get down to it, but it was almost the opposite. Maybe it was the way he put himself out there that made me hear him out, or the twinkle in his eye, or just me wanting to believe in someone good after all this time. I listened. I knew I was in for a ride as he drew me in, but I couldn't stop myself from getting in. We decided to meet up after he was off duty. I wondered on my way home what it was that was different about this "one" that had me from hello. 

We met up later that afternoon and I decided to take him to my get away spot, a small barn on some land. He seemed almost unsure of himself most of the evening as we sat in the hayloft which only made him much more irresistible to me. I knew from the first time on the phone that I would give myself to him if he asked, although he proclaimed that was not what his intentions were. I found myself completely caught up in his boyish charms and playfulness. 

It had started to lightly rain and the sound of the rain on the roof and the horses in their stalls put quietness in the air. I knew he was unsure of where he stood with me and I wanted to let him know, but couldn't with mere words. I knew that he wouldn't make a move on me, so I took the lead and straddled him in the hay. Leaning down and slowly kissing him made me ache deep inside. I felt him throbbing against his Abercrombie shorts and being the polite hostess that I am I undid his buttons to release the pressure. I felt his sigh of relief on my lips as I reached down to grab his cock in my hands. Shocked at how big he was I couldn't wait any longer, I inched down till I had him in my mouth. I teased with my tongue and slowly took him into my mouth. I knew that I had him then.

Having enough of my warm mouth on his cock, he flipped me over and slowly entered me. As he slid in and out, I thought I had never felt so fully aware of how good it felt to have a man so deep inside me. I was on the edge and begged him to fuck me harder but he would only chuckle and whisper to slow down. He filled me so completely only to slip out and tease my clit with his cock. Finally he thrust into me faster and faster until I couldn't hold on any longer, I came and came feeling like I was going out of my mind with sensations. We lay spent in the hay just listening to each other breathe, neither of us speaking. I think we both wondered just what had happened and if there were more to come. 

Knowing he had someone to go home to, we got up and picked the hay out of each other's hair and clothes. We got ready to go back to our separate lives, he laid a gentle kiss on my head and I knew then that this was just a roll in the hay...

A Roll in the Hay



CHAPTER 1

Paris Jenks sighed and scratched her ear lobe while waking slowly to the chug-chug of an agricultural tractor and the post-dawn excitement of Meg and Dawn. They were orchard dogs, fed miserly and given shelter in return for helping to eradicate rabbits.

The curly blonde schoolteacher scratched a breast and knew with a sigh what that had been about: it was five weeks since she'd woken with a man beside her. That's akin to going three evening meals without potatoes. 

Prospects for the 29-year-old were not good for getting fucked. It was end-of-season and the seasonal fruit pickers had gone. Her life at present was confined to walking to school and walking back home late afternoon to take over from her exhausted mom to sterilize more glass jars, fill them with raspberry pulp mixed with pumpkin to extend bulk and a small amount of quince to give it a different hint of taste that customers agreed made the jam live up to it's name of 'Ma Jenks' Unique Raspberry Jam'. It was one of the products the family had offered for sale for four generations at the roadside stall that attracted locals and people from the city all-year long.

Paris had Sundays off from chores from lunchtime and her mom frequently urged her to go off and 'be with a man', but working 15-hour days six days a week and 6-hour Sundays usually convinced her to go to bed early, alone. The school principal was married and although some of the senior boys at the 'all-grades' school were obviously interested Paris knew if she took any of them on her career would be over and the community would ostracize her and she'd have to leave the district to avoid her family suffering from her misdeeds. Older brother Tony was a good backstop to fill her needs but he was now on an overseas working holiday with his girlfriend. When the pruners arrived in early winter and the pickers were in the district from late summer she walked a little bandy-legged with a big smile on her face.

Then suddenly the daily grind for Paris became more upbeat. It began that very day when her mother screamed in a panic, "Meg's home!"

Fuck thought Paris and yelled, "I'm coming" She tore off her old work dress, pulled on shorts and buttoned her shirt as she went running off. Meg coming home by herself meant only one thing: her father was in trouble.

Maggie her mom was sitting grimly in the passenger seat of the Land Rover. She'd never learnt to drive, never wanted to, except in moments like the present, with a crisis threatening. Maggie had grown up with horses and only quit ridding when taking a nasty fall three years ago during the local hunt, ending up with concussion and a broken hip and agreeing with everyone reluctantly never to ride again. 

Paris tried to send Meg off to find Reg but the dumb dog jumped back on the vehicle's cargo tray.

"The McCain's boundary line," wheezed her mom, indicating some emotion was there.

Paris took another look at Meg, noticing mud on her legs. "Meg's come through the creek."

"Get me to the creek then," her mom shouted. 

The Old Girl as they called the 54-year-old faithful 'workhorse' was driven at 40 mph, the aged vehicle's maximum speed and above safe speed through the orchard to the far end of the property where it dipped into undeveloped land.

"There's the tractor -- it's upright," Maggie said with relief, as an overturned tractor would have suggested the driver might be pinned underneath it.

"There's dad, forty yards to the left of it."

"You know I can's see without my glasses."

"Then why come without them?"

"Paris!"

Rarely had Paris seen her mom on edge like this, so she backed off.

"Is he standing, sitting or prone?"

"Prone."

"I see him. He looks dead."

"Mom, only old age will end the life of that tough bastard. Calm down."

"I will not calm down."

"Well, get ready for a slap."

They drove on in silence, her mom standing as the canvas top was only put on it winter, still a few weeks away. She held on to the solid windscreen assembly and finally said mournfully, "I see clearly now -- his lower body is under that old stunted tree he's felled. He's not moving."

Paris, fighting her own panic, snorted, "It's hard to move when you're unconscious with a broken leg.

With Reg Jenks painfully hospitalized with shattered hip and a fractured femur high up on the other leg, neighbors organized a roster to work Reg's property. One guy even cut up the tree that had sprung back when about to fall to catch Reg and pin him to the ground, smashing the chainsaw as well. Reg would later boast it was the best firewood they'd ever had.

Maggie advertised for a temporary orchard manager but the only replies received were from inexperienced misfits. She called Tony who was in England with Rose. He was sorry to hear about his father's inquiries but said the tough old coot would bounce back. He also said he and Rose had commenced a degree course to qualify as advanced travel consultants and he had no intention of taking on the family business. "Get Paris to quit teaching disinterested kids and get into a real job."

"What real job?"

"Mom, running the fucking orchard. Has dad's accident made you thick?" 

Maggie cut the call rather than rant at her son. All she said to Paris was Tony was not coming home and carried the gin bottle out to the summerhouse. Paris joined her and said she would resign from her teaching job.

"Don't do it Paris. It's you career, a way out of drudgery once you gain sufficient seniority to apply for an upgrade position a long way from here. I had my chance but let it go. Please Paris, keep teaching. "

Paris walked back to the house and called the school principal. He agreed she could leave immediately as he had two trained teachers living locally who'd been pestering him for employment.

Next morning Maggie Jenks stirred and passed wind, feeling on the bed beside her and only then remembered husband Reg was in hospital. She froze, hearing the unbelievable -- the chug-chug of the agricultural tractor warming up and the post-dawn excitement of Meg and Dawn.

"Paris, you stupid young woman," she muttered proudly. "Like your mother and grandmother and great-grandmother you're turned aside an easier life because of your love of the land."

Paris arrived home at 4:00, absolutely whacked, a welt over her forehead and stretching to ease her aching back.

Maggie poured Paris coffee and run a bath for her, growling, "An ex-schoolteacher ought not to try to do a man's work on her first day on the job."

"Fuck men mom, what use are they? Tony should be here doing what I'm doing but he and Rose have discovered booze, group sex and cheaper drugs are more readily available when you're a tertiary student."

"You're exhausted darling. Eat your oat and chocolate cookies for energy and toddle off to your bath. What do you do today?"

"I felled the last twenty dead tree trunks and dug around three of the stumps with the bucket and one by one racked up the stump jacks and finally wrenched out the stumps with the use of tractor power and the chainsaw."

Maggie was appalled. "Darling, that's work for a man."

"Find me one mom and perhaps I'll agree with you. Dad wants that remaining five acres ready to plow this spring and someone has to keep that work on schedule and that person is me."

Maggie pleaded but Paris said no way would she slacken off. 

"I'll talk to your father and get him to defer that development on the business plan."

"We must be plowing and planting in the spring mom otherwise will not meet our longer-term contractual obligations to be supplying olives on schedule. We paid through the nose to get those tests done and findings are that with good drainage we'll make a mint from olives to take you and dad into a moneyed retirement."

"A deferment for only a year Paris," Maggie whined.

"No, we'd have to pay the $15,000 contractual penalty and suffer the schedule first year's loss of income. And remember, it will be months before dad is back toward being his old self and the surgeon warned dad will lose some of his former mobility."

"Oh God."

"That's a convenient refuge for you mom. I suggest you use it. Just tell dad I'm clearing out drains. You mention anything about the development block to him mom and I'll swat you; that I promise. "

Maggie sighed and told Paris she'd been such a beautiful baby and was so angelic until she went to high school.

Paris stroked her mother's hair. "Don't put you foot in it where it's not wanted mom and you'll think of me fondly. Just find me a man."

Sharpening up her techniques, next day by noon Paris had wrenched four stumps from the ground and carted them on to a knoll ready for burning. She then lay in the sun, head propped up on a log, hat shielding her face from the weakening late fall sun and ate her meat sandwiches. Thinking about being fucked made her too restless so she switched to thinking about her Grade 6 class and hoped the new teacher had the expertise to keep the students going forward and could love them better than Paris had managed. God, some of them were real shits and that was not only the males.

About that time a guy with blond hair, blue eyes and a figure that caught Maggie's breath stepped out of a pickup and she called, "Over here. What are you hawking?"

"I'm looking for permanent work. Mom said I should try you."

Maggie decided the guy would not be offering the work she had in mind for him. "Go to the kitchen and fetch a couple of beers for yourself from the fridge. If I'd know you were coming I'd comb my hair and put on a bra."

"Mom's like you; only does herself up when visitors are coming or she goes out. She doesn't wear clothes on hot sunny days.

"Are you one of Betty Philip's sons?"

"Yeah, second oldest Gilman."

"Hi Gilman. Are you the one who went to university and returned as a lecturer in animal genetics."

"That's me. Sorry to hear about the old man."

"He's doing okay. Up walking already to keep away clots. It's agony watching him. His face is in pain and he looks to be moving liked a headless rooster."

"Sorry to hear that, I really am. I'm having a year off from lecturing. Mom thought I should offer to give you a hand."

"Go get your beer Gilman. Sounds like we should talk." 

* * *

The truth was Gilman had been asked to resign, having being caught screwing the Chaplin's two daughters. He'd arrived home in disgrace and no longer thinking that episode was a really big joke. It had really hurt when some of his closest associates turned on him and openly despised him. Christ, he'd not screwed the Chaplin or his wife and both daughters were in their early twenties.

His parents were devastated when he told him. His father offered him money to go to another country but Gilman said he had plenty of money and had decided to work on the family farm. Gilman father told him aggressively he was not wanted on the farm, as it was ticking along smoothly with his two brothers working in partnership with him. His mother jumped in and told him about Reg Jenk's accident and said all the neighbors had been pitching in but Maggie really needed permanent help. 

"Paris resigned from teaching at the school last week to work on the farm but she'll be next to useless bringing that former swamp land in. The other thing big about her are her breasts and head because she has a big opinion of herself."

"Christ, Paris Jenks is still around. I used to go around all day with a hard on thinking about her."

"Gilman please, this is your mother you are speaking to. I will not have blasphemy used in my house."

"Sorry mom. Big breasts you say?"

"She's gorgeous Gilman and has long driven the Toms away. She should be married...oh Gilman, go work for Maggie. If she doesn't pay you enough I'll subsidize your income."

Gilman heard the tractor approaching as he heaved his luggage from the cargo box and took no notice, thinking the driver would be one of Maggie's neighbors lending a hand. Suddenly two dogs had cornered him, one barking and the other eyeing him intently.

"What are you stealing from our house you asshole!" yelled a woman.

Gilman grinned, turned and froze as the eye dog slunk towards him two paces and growled, looking ready to pounce.

"Paris -- it's me, Gilman Philips and I'm arriving, not leaving with loot."

The tractor motor revved and it moved closer to him and he heard the unladylike Paris shout, "Meg and Dawn, get the fuck out of there. Get in behind. Good girls."

Gilman thought all that must be confusing for the dogs but then Paris had always confused him. The dogs had raced off and were coming in behind the veteran tractor. 

As she jumped off the tractor Gilman noticed the shirt sweat stains below and between her tits. Her face was sweaty and dirty. Where was this beauty has mom had been on and on about? He went to kiss her but she backed off saying he should keep his distance. "The only time you had any interest in me was to try to get your hands on my breasts."

"Paris, for God sake, that was ten years ago."

"My mom says men never change."

"I don't want to kiss you, okay. You look anything but kissable."

"Thank you very much. And now you can fuck off home."

"This is my home. Your mom has hired me."

Gilman thought that was the only time he'd ever seen Paris Jenks with her mouth open without it gushing words, abuse or singing. Then she hissed, "You stay here: I have someone to sort out."

Gilman watched her go and wisely did not comment 'Nice ass'. Actually it was difficult to tell in those heavy, dirt-caked pants. What on earth had she been doing?"

Five minutes later Maggie came out, all smiles. "Sorry about that, I gathered you caught an earful. She's been jacking out tree stumps since 6:00 this morning and has gotten seven out today, a record for her. The poor girl is exhausted. After a bath and a couple of wines she's promised to come out and apologize. I had a strip ripped off me too."

"Paris, jacking out stumps, all by herself?" Gilman said, scratching his head.

"They are smallish stumps Gilman, the largest would be only four feet across.

"Four feet is larger than small Maggie."

"Oh, you've decided to call me Maggie have you? That's fine."

Gilman took his bags to his room and then opened a beer and said he was going to sit with Paris.

"She'll kill you seeing her in the nude without her face and hair done."

"Sometimes a man has to do what a man has to do," Gilman said, making Maggie grin. He was thirty so wondered how the body of Paris, a year younger, looked these days. He licked his lips and began what could be a perilous journey.

Gilman knocked on the bathroom door.

"Fuck off Gilman. I know it's you because mom doesn't knock."

He walked in and Paris remained motionless, making no effort to cover up. He ran his eyes over her slowly.

"Well, what do you think?"

"You still look pretty, lovely trim job and your boobs are magnificent and I like your mouth not being in that hard line it was with me outside earlier.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, may I sit and sip my beer? Play with yourself if you wish; it won't embarrass me."

"Why are you here, I mean in the bathroom? This is not natural."

"To show you I'm not afraid of you any longer. You used to bully me when we were young. Try that now and I'll probably whack you one."

"You were soft as shit when we were young."

"It's called being sensitive but I was in awe of you. You were so popular, especially among the girls and I knew you had something that I know now is aura."

"So I'm all grown up and beautiful just as you dreamed I'd be?"

"You are grown up and many women your age are more beautiful than you. I've experienced the world."

Paris said mildly he'd proven how brave he was so he could clear out and leave her to play with herself.

Gilman stood and looked down on her. Paris opened her legs wide and he grinned and said, "Has that pussy hair been trimmed to form 'G' for Gilman?"

She just smiled and closed her legs

"I go and talk with your mom. At present she's more interesting than you."

Half an hour later the so-called beauty came out in a toweling robe, flushed cheeks and a towel around her head. In comparison her fifty-something mother looked almost attractive.

During dinner Maggie said at the hospital that afternoon the house surgeon had asked to see her.

"I was told Reg was coming along well. The hip replacement has presented no problems and his pinned femur of the other leg became infected but it was on the surface, very localized and is now well under control. He is wearing surgical stockings to inhibit possible blood clotting and is now managing to walk from his bed almost to the nurses' station on his walker under pain relief, and the nurses refer to him as that determined cuss. There have been complaints about his swearing and vulgarity but the nurses make out as if he'd the only character in the ward. I heard one of them promise him light relief but my coarse husband accused me of mishearing and said she'd said 'night relief'.

"They probably mean the same mom. Rumor has it you give the best fellatio in the district -- why not visit him at nights after lights out?

"Gilman, you'll have to excuse my daughter. She's learnt from her father to exaggerate, twist and invent all for a laugh."

"I'm keeping out of this Maggie. When will Reg come home?" 

"Possibly next week. A hospital outreach team will inspect our facilities and to work out with me what will need to be done for Reg's comfort and to keep him away from physical danger or stress. I'll receive a nurse aid to help me with Reg each morning until he's confident enough to rely on just me. He'll receive physiotherapy treatment at home for months, possibly for a year."

Looking pleased, Paris said that was all good news.

"Yes dear, but now for the bad news. The medical assessment says he should regain 60% of his former mobility, perhaps working up to 80% with hard work and determination."

"Mom, dad a cripple? He'll shoot himself," Paris screamed and Maggie began crying. 

Gilman strode over and shook Paris by the shoulders. "Shut up Paris, I know you are tired but your outburst is helping no-one.

"Get you hands off me, you jerk."

Gilman grinned and said that was better, what he expected from her and told her to hug her mom and say sorry.

"I-I-I couldn't bear to tell him," Maggie sobbed.

"We'll all go in tomorrow morning and Paris will tell him and Maggie you'll hold Paris."

"Keep out of this, it's family," Paris snapped.

"Your father coached me football for three years. He became an expert on minor leg, rib and shoulder injuries and taking players coming out of injury through rehab. I'll take him back through that and remind him of some of the great comebacks."

"Well...in that case..."

Drying her eyes Maggie said, "Yes Gilman, you're coming with us."

Next morning just before dawn Gilman heard the tractor start up.

"Christ," he swore. He found his old thick trousers and then threw on an old football jersey and grabbing his thick socks and boots and hat, raced out after Paris and caught her as she was about to set off. She eyed him passively.

"Suddenly a farm guy are you?"

"I've done plenty of it, including cropping and grape pruning during university breaks. We have this hospital thing with your father this morning."

"We're not leaving till 10:30 -- I'll get three stumps out be then."

"Five with me helping."

"Two because you'll get in my way."

He flared but caught the grin.

"Bitch, you almost got an earful.

Her grin widened and she told him to jump on.

They reached the bathroom together, Gilman still hearing Maggie saying, "Five stumps in just under four hours, I can't believe it." Paris had said, "He's not as useless as he looks mom."




A Roll in the Hay



Gilman said, "You first."

"How gallant. We have five minutes to get in and out and dressed. Mom's waiting. Let's shower together -- not a lot is going to happen in three minutes."

Surprisingly when Gilman asked could he soap her tits (he actually said breasts) Paris turned and pulled her shoulders back. He stared.

While he was transfixed she looked down and said, "God, you'll never be putting that in me."

"Relax baby," Gilman said beginning to soap her. "You have shower water in your eyes and that is magnifying what you see."

Gilman was out first and finished drying first. Paris had stood facing him and as she was toweling her back Gilman reached forward and deliberately ran a finger deeply between her legs and slowly pulled a finger up her furrow. She didn't flinch or say a word. She just stared, her eyes dark and deep. And just as Gilman brought that finger to his nose and sniffed, Paris slowly ran her tongue tip over her top lip and two wipes with the towel after that said, "Come on, let's dash. I'll do my hair and make up during the ride into the city. Catch me in the right mood and I'll not object you putting that thing into me."

"Are you in the right mood four or five times a day?"

"You fucking optimist," she barked. "Get you ass out of here."

Reg listened gravely as in a faltering voice that grew stronger his daughter delivered the bad news, his wife holding on to Paris grimly and surprisingly looking at him with affection rather than pity. His wife's reaction caused his eyes to water, not the bad news.

"Well?" Paris asked, waiting for some reaction from her father when she'd finished and silence followed.

"That was beautifully delivered darling."

"B-b-but for the rest of your l-l-life...." Maggie, sobbed, unable to continue.

Reg laughed. "Oh come on you two. A guy who busted two hips in a car accident eight months ago visited me when he came through the ward five days ago and told me what to expect."

"Dad, you basted," Paris yelled. Only quick reaction from Gilman diverted the slap from her aimed across her father's mouth. Maggie began crying almost hysterically.

Nursing staff came running.

"Cuddles, get those two women out of here for five minutes until they settle down."

"Yes Reggie darling, anything you say," said the senior nurse scowling at the misbehaving women. 

Gilman grinned at Reg. "Once a bastard, always a bastard."

"I've always had fun winding up women and I'm not about to stop," Reg smiled. "Nice to have you back home Gilman. Mags had told me you were helping out."

"The attraction is Paris, not your predicament," Gilman said straight-faced.

"Now who's the bastard? Look, when I come home could you get some of the guys organized on a visiting roster. I'll become bored stiff having only women visit."

"Yep, anything else?"

"I have no objection to you plugging Paris. She's become too much of a tomboy, so needs to be reminded why she is a woman. Fetch them back in here please."

On the drive home after the women finally talked themselves out about the despicable way Reg had allowed Paris to go on with her presentation of the bad news Maggie asked, "What do you really think Gilman?"

"He'll be the world's worst patient when he's home and practically bed-ridden."

Maggie sighed and said she wanted Gilman to tell her something she didn't know.

Gilman, who was driving, tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and both women waited, showing their curiosity.

"Well we have to think of Reg and his environment. He's spent his whole life at the orchard and the trees are going into hibernation. I reckon we leave it to the outside people to do what they think they have to do with Reg and then as winter drifts into spring we guys and perhaps with the help of past and present local football post-injury specialists start bringing him on in rhythm of the sap rising in the trees. By the time harvesting is in full swing Reg will be stomping around giving orders and checking packing quality as if nothing has happened. That is bound to happen anyway, but if we get Reg thinking this way perhaps his progress will be faster than even he expects."

"Bejesus," Maggie said. "My boy, you are worth your weight in gold. You have me believing in you."

Paris piped up from the back seat: "Instead of taking animal science at university pal you would have been a natural in philosophy."

"We had many lecturers on theory about how animals think and what they think."

"Dogs and cats to some degree, elephants too, but other animals?"

Gilman said softly, "Maggie you doubter, how do cows know to begin to move towards the gate in their field just prior to milking time when the milkers have yet to make their move?"

They drove along quietly, each person deep in thought.

They were chatting again by the time they arrived home. Maggie decided to spend all next day in the city looking for things to make their bedroom brighter for Reg, to buy a TV set for the bedroom and to look around for things that would make life easier for the patient. "I want you to come with me love."

"No, take Gilman. I want to go stumping."

"Go with your mother Paris. She's asked you because she wants an informed second opinion and she wants your company."

After a brief pause Paris said to Maggie she'd like to accompany her.

Gilman's mind was racing. "Look, leave at 6:00 and have breakfast with Reg. He'd like that change of routine. Sneak in some real food. He seems to have special status so you'll probably get away with that. As he's on that special wheelchair with both legs up you probably will be invited to breakfast in the staff room."

"No, I don't think..."

"Mom, it's a great idea. Let's do it."

That evening Gilman went outside with his cell phone and the local phonebook and made twenty calls, not only to immediate neighbors but to guys he knew were old pals of Reg's.

CHAPTER 2

Half an hour after Maggie and Paris had left to breakfast with Reg, heavy machinery began arriving at The Jenks' Family Orchard. It included diggers, plows to break in virgin land and farmers arrived on their tractors with machinery including harrows to condition top soil. It was too late to plant grass as the first snows would arrive soon. 

A little later, providing a service overlooked by Gilman when he'd phoned around the previous evening, came women to set up a field kitchen down at the end of the orchard overlooking the five acres development block that already looking a bit like a battle ground.

A truck arrived from the local rural supplies depot with two huge round concrete pipes plus a crew to build a concrete dick to complete the culvert as a vehicle crossing at the narrowest part of the swamp to be drained.

Meanwhile at the hospital a newspaper photographer arrived and asked Maggie and Paris to wheel Reg outside so she could take a photograph of the three of them with the hospital wing in the background. She wouldn't say why the newspaper wanted the photograph and the ward manager and charge nurse just grinned and lied they had no idea but it was obviously 'therapeutic' judging but Reg's huge grin. Well, the photographer was teasing him in a very sexy manner but above all he was outside at last.

* * *

Maggie spotted it first: a tall plume of black smoke coming from their property.

"Bejesus, our house in on fire."

"I don't think so," Paris said, hitting the gas pedal. "The angle is wrong from here and it's certainly not the packing sheds or the pickers' accommodation."

They found smiling men removing cakes of mud deposited from multiple wheeled heavy vehicles on the concrete driveway to the house. The team included Gilman who looked weary but happy.

He sauntered over to them and said, "It's all done."

Maggie asked suspiciously, "What's all done."

He jumped into the back seat of the SUV and said to Paris to drive down to the creek.

"Ah, you're burning the stumps we've gotten out with an accelerant."

"Something like that."

They drove with Gilman winding them up with short sentences such as, "We've been busy" and "You're going to like it."

"Ohmigod!" Paris yelled, the first to see the entire five acres ready to lie fallow over winter."

"Bejesus," Maggie said. She began wailing and clutched Paris who also began crying. 

Sighing, Gilman slipped out of the vehicle.

That night when Gilman was almost asleep he heard Paris say, "Are you awake?"

"Yeah, only just."

"You've been a good boy. Here, suck this."

Knowing it was Paris and not your ordinary Saturday babe, Gilman sucked thinking she'd turned her ass to him. He dreamingly sucked and slithered over it wondering if he'd get his ears boxed if he attempted to ring her when an upright nipple popped into his mouth. He attempted to swallow it whole.

"That's enough," she giggled. "Gawd, you almost swallowed me whole you randy beast. Mom's paying for a room at the Tower Hotel for tomorrow night. I'm taking you out to dinner and then you can fuck me if that appeals."

Gilman's eyes widened in the gloom and she laughed and said she could see the whites of his eyes. "When did you last get it in?"

"About a month ago in a night of debauchery and then I was blackballed out of university."

"Oh, the Chaplain's daughters. I've heard about that. It's been longer than that for me and I'm really wanting it."

"Okay, I'll make sure I ram it all the way home."

* * *

Understandably, Gilman wanted to take Paris on the floor in front of her mother when she entered the living room. Her tits were pulled up by a decent bra, her back dress was way too short, her hair was piled high like a princess and she had full make-up on with bright lipstick. Legs, lips, tit, wide-eyes and cunt flashed in mix behind his eyes and lust roared through his body, yanking his dick to full erection in a flash. Stifling an expected outbreak of panting, he said, "Holy fuck Paris. You'll need to place me in handcuffs and leg chains and keep a bucket of ice water handy. You are gorgeous. Washed up you really are beautiful."

Maggie smiled with deep satisfaction and apparently decided not to growl at the use of blasphemy in her house.

Paris blushed and wrung her hands awkwardly.

Her mom said gravely, "Either thump him or kiss him Paris; there is no other choice."

Gilman stood rigid as she kissed him and he kissed her back. He knew right then if he had relaxed he would have flipped out a tit and embarrassed everyone, including himself. He'd been lying about her beauty of course, as mother and daughter would have wanted to hear him say that, perhaps not expecting it. She wasn't beautiful and probably just scrapped in to be called attractive -- bare-skinned that is. Her teeth were uneven and her jaw undershot slightly and the freckles made a mess of her face -- but her nose was cute and her eyes could hold a guy's gaze and looked trustworthy. Paris's hands were callused and the backs of her hands and lower arms scarred from excessive orchard work and doubtless being left unprotected despite her mom's pleas. The fingernails -- they'd pass for a guy's fingernails.

Gilman was equally critical of himself. He knew his female relatives including his mom thought he had a wow of a smile but he knew he was no looker for a poster, although his body was great because he worked on it. Paris's legs were a little too short and her thighs were, ahem, a little thick at the tops. But other than that she was great. By shape alone her breasts caused most guys to take a second look, and that was saying something. 

Actually Paris's attraction for him went beyond looks. She had a foul mouth but he'd listened to her sing like a lark. Although she'd whack a guy without thinking of the consequences he'd seen her fuss over her rather aloof dog Dawn when it had caught a splinter between its toes. Paris extracted the foreign object tenderly, cooing at the dog until the devoted canine was licking her face and quivering like a jelly. That girl had a heart of gold and he'd trust her with his life and she'd probably save him. Yeah, great girl really, not like some of that treacherous bitches at university acting as if they thought they were movie stars. He still couldn't get it out of his head how she'd taken on those tree stumps alone, assuming her dad would have expected that of her.

* * *

Dinner had been great and towards the end Paris's voice had become a little husky and her leg kept brushing against his calf. She was ready.

"Want to go for a walk to the river when we leave here?"

She nodded and he swept away the frustration that had flashed into her eyes by saying, "Just kidding." She moved in her chair restlessly and although she was sitting opposite him Gilman thought he'd caught a whiff of arousal.

As soon as he'd closed the hotel room door and turned to her she was all over him. Gilman allowed her to see his wolfish grin used to bring aroused women to their knees. But Paris just unfastened his shirt buttons and pushed it over his shoulders. She when placed her cheek against his wide and almost hairless chest and sighed, "Oh Gilman, how I've longed to do this. Then that spot on his chest suddenly felt damp -- she was crying! To his horror Gilman felt his hard-on melt to little more than matchbox size. Perhaps super matchbox size. Not knowing what to do he rubbed her back and heard her say, "Oh, that's gorgeous." Bewildered, he asked himself weren't they going to fuck?

"Feel my pussy, feel my pussy. Finger my pussy," she mewed.

Gilman felt more confident. Fingers up the spout and his dick would be back rampant. But just at that moment a huge dinga-ling-ding sounded all around them and a voice over a speaker sounded. "This is an emergency, please evacuate the building. This is an emergency, please evacuate the building."

"Fuck," Gilman roared. "They've spoilt our night. What a crap place this hotel is."

"Gilman you idiot, quit posturing. I smell smoke. Let's get out of here."

Gilman said he hadn't heard an explosion so it was unlikely to be an instant inferno. "Get dressed, grab your things. We're going home."

"Gilman, you're acting irresponsibly."

"You're wasting time woman. Do it and let's go."

Dressed and packed Paris ran for the elevator.

"Paris, come back, they elevators are automatically switched off as possible fire traps. The fire will probably be spreading in the kitchen. Let's go to the far end of this corridor and down the fire escape there."

"You don't know what you're saying Gilman. Look at these people running to the stairs."

"Yeah, running towards the fire. Trust me Paris, come on."

Paris opened her mouth to protest but suddenly the guy had thrown her over his shoulder and was carrying both their overnight bags in his free hand. Who the hell did Gilman think he was, a fire safety officer morphing into Superman?

"Fucking lemmings," Gilman puffed as they reached the fire escape with no one else around them. They scuttled down the three flights a little awkwardly and reached the ground.

Paris kissed him and thanked him for acting rationally, bravely and compassionately.

"Compassionately?"

"Yes, although I was panicking and disobeying you, you didn't wallop me into submission."

"Thanks babe, just remember who's boss next time. Here are the keys to the SUV. Fortunately we are in the open parking lot. Stay there while I report to the hotel staff we have evacuated and are going home."

Gilman went to the front of the building where fire crews had already arrived and were rushing into the hotel with hand fire extinguishers. A fire chief spoke into a loudspeaker, "Everything is under control folk -- the fire from the kitchen has spread through the restaurant and into the lobby. You people up on the roof come to the ground via the external fire escapes. Everyone report to the hotel fire marshals across the street from the main hotel entrance." 

Gilman reported to the marshal.

"Where's Miss Jenks."

"Waiting for me in our vehicle. We're going home."

The 180lb woman said, "Bring her to me. She's going nowhere until I confirm her ID and that she's not injured.

"We've had our trial honeymoon disrupted and she's emotional distraught. I'm taking her home. If you don't like it, tough."

"Listen buster..." The woman saw Gilman's eyes harden and his shoulders square. "Um, just call me tomorrow. Here's my card. When we are back to normal we'll offer you two nights in one of our honeymoon suites."

"Thanks. You are a real sweetie," Gilman said, kissing the surprised official and then loping off. 

Paris said, "That was my worst fuck ever, even worse when Freddie Andrews doused me with two premature ejaculations before we had my pants off and he then went home mortified."

"I'll make it up to you one day soon, I promise," Gilman said, thinking of two complimentary nights in the honeymoon suite.

They arrived home feeling bushed so went to their respective beds.

Next morning -- Sunday -- Gilman left at 8:00 to attend a family gathering to celebrate an aunt's sixtieth birthday that was to begin with a church service. Paris had earlier decided not to go as she was behind with her chores. Gilman found her down at the packing shed preparing raspberry pulp sufficient for three 100-jar runs of jam once the jars had been sterilized and loaded on to the conveyor table.

"Sorry about last night," he smiled lightly. "All in all it was a washout. You must have been devastated."

Paris wiped her brow, welcoming the rest after non-stop action for almost two hours.

"Actually I found it memorable, something I'll never forget -- the restaurant meal and you revealing you possess heroic qualities."

"I what?"

"When the first alarm went off I visualized the tragic Hotel de Paris fire and panicked whereas you calmed me, logically what you thought was our best evacuation option and bundled me along with you, ignoring what you had called 'The lemmings'."

"Oh come on, anyone could have figured out that evacuation route."

"But no one else on our floor or apparently other floors did that, did that?"

Looking at his shoes Gilman said, almost shyly, she could think what she wanted to think. "At least I got you home safely and that's what I wanted and what your parents will have wanted."

Before she could reply her mother arrived, in her dressing gown and looking haggard. She kissed Gilman and went around behind the bottling line to hug and kiss Paris. Maggie said quietly, after you two left last night I remembered no one had collected the mail so I walked out to the gate and cleared the box. There was a letter from the hospital officially advising alterations would have to be made here before Reg could come home. In the meantime he would be released to live in a hospital ancillary facility for which rent was payable. The officious bitch that led the inspection wrote that I didn't seem to understand the seriousness of Reg's rehab and that it would be a little like bringing a new baby home."

Paris hugged her and said that would have being a communications problem, the official not understanding her mom could become flippant under stress.

"The bitch looked daggers at me when I said Reg would soon be up on his beloved tractor."

"Oh mom," Paris wailed and even Gilman looked dismayed.

Maggie intoned what she remembered of the requisitions.

Gilman said, "Some of those involve major construction alterations to your bedroom and adding en-suites can be expensive. You could be up for, well, it's only a guess but perhaps $30,000. Can you afford that?"

"At a pinch."

"Look, don't worry. I'll look into this by going to the council on Monday. When you visit Reg today just tell him he'll only be in the facility for a fortnight."

"But that's lying to him. We don't have plans and specifications ready or have found a builder."




A Roll in the Hay



"Perhaps. There are other ways so it might not be lying to him. I must dash, bye."

As the pickup roared off Paris said dramatically, "He doesn't love me. He left without kissing me."

"Poof darling. That means nothing. Men are like that," Maggie said, revealing hard-earned wisdom.

Paris told her mother about the hotel fire and aborted sex.

"Oh dear," Maggie said, her shoulders slumping. "Aren't we two in a mess?"

Just as Paris was about to start the final 100-jar run Maggie almost ran into the packing shed, beaming. "A Mrs White from the hotel called a few minutes ago," she said handing Paris a flask of coffee. She wanted to confirm your identity and that you are okay."

Paris shrugged and said thanks.

"Mrs White said all other guests wanted their money back for having a disrupted night and that has been done plus issuing vouchers for two complimentary meals. She said your fiancé demanded two nights in the honeymoon suite and she was pleased to confirm management has agreed to that plus two dinners plus a complimentary bottle of champagne on your first night.

"Fiancé...honeymoon suite?"

"Yes and that's the guy who supposedly doesn't like you. I've decided to do a lamb roast tonight, as he needs building up. The hotel offer commences as soon as the kitchen facilities and restaurant and fully operational again."

Maggie helped her daughter with the final jam bottling run, listening to Paris singing.

CHAPTER 3

Gilman's mother and his two sisters were disappointed Paris had not come with him as they'd wanted to check out the woman he'd apparently latched on to. When Beth and Suzie went off to dress Gilman spoke to his family and won immediate agreement. Two years ago his parents had built an 800 sq ft family room on to the side of their house incorporating an en-suite for their bedroom adjoining the extension. 

Gilman was handed the plans and specification and bothers David and Lenny agreed to spend a week building the extension to the Jenks' house, joining Gilman and a registered builder. Lenny called Sid Monks whom they'd worked with building their parents' extension and he agreed to run the project for $2000 plus all construction materials at cost. The framing would arrive pre-cut and assembled in sections and the roof trusses would also arrive ready to lift into place. 

Lenny arriving back at the table had said, "Sid said once suppliers are told it's an emergency project for Reg Jenks the materials and projects will be invoiced at cost or even donated. Reg is a legend around these parts as the greatest footballer in this region's history and also representing the country in skeet shooting and then for what he put back into both sports as a coach and administrator for two decades."

"Are you going to marry Paris," his mom asked softly.

All eyes were on him. Gilman looked at the ceiling and mumbled, "Appears so." The family conference resumed with Bert looking at Jess and she nodded.

"Gilman, your mother and I have agreed to do something for you as it's obvious that Lenny and David have put their backs into improving this farm so it's become their inheritance. Mom and I would like to buy you a good piece of land or give you the cash equivalent."

Gilman looked at his parents and grinned. "Thanks folk, I'll take the cash and buy my way back into my old university."

"Is that Chaplain still there?" his mom asked stonily.

"Oh yes, and his over-sexed daughters."

"In that case I want the money spent on land acquisition."

"Ah mom, you spoiler. I was only pulling your tit. Land would be fine, and thanks, I thought I was the Black Sheep."

Jess rubbed his hair and said he was lovely as a kid. "Any ideas about what land and we'd like to think about it?"

"Well, my mind has been ticking. As you know orchard farming is and up and down business and the Jenks have diversified and are now expanding into olives. The Thompson's on their northern boundary have allowed their farm to rundown but it's still rated as the best property in the district to finish off grass-raised cattle for market. Ted and Olive are both in their mid seventies and have no children. I've been thinking..."

"Good thinking son, " said his father. "Even if you split with the Jenks' girl it would remain a stand-alone operation. But integrate that income with the orchard income and you'd be amid a little gold mine. What say I have a little yarn with Olive and Ted at the club over dinner one night?"

"Yeah, why not? Just remember I have yet to talk romance to Paris"

Gilman's brothers chortled as if Gilman had just told them the joke of the year and even his parents looked at him in disbelief.

"That girl has an unladylike reputation and your reputation is bigger and dirtier," his mom sniffed.

His father topped that. "Is there something wrong with your gear" and everyone including the uncomfortable Gilman joined in the laughter.

On the way home that afternoon Gilman had everything apart from the council sewn up. Lenny had called two concrete workers who were big into skeet shooting and they were recruited as volunteers and David did the same with two former footballers. As Gilman arrived back at the orchard he saw the tractor and trailer half loaded in the doorway of the huge hay barn. Paris had said it was time to start laying out hay bales ready to break open and spread over the roots of the less hardy trees before the frosts and snows arrived. He found Paris asleep on a pile of ruptured hay bales, legs apart. That sent a lusty thought through his mind and he licked his lips. He stretched out beside her and went to sleep.

* * *

Paris awoke and stifling a yawn looked around and saw Dawn and Meg was fast asleep on the dirt floor. God, how long had she been asleep, slackening on the job? She flung out her right hand to help push up and realized she was pushing on a leg bone, a leg in softer trousers than jeans. She looked and smiled: Gilman was home.

Standing and brushing off hay she looked down fondly at Gilman and saw his legs were wide open and that made her think of sex. A Sunday late afternoon roll in the hay with a guy was not a bad idea, especially for a gal who hadn't had one for almost two months.

Grinning, hay in her hair, Paris slipped carefully between Gilman's legs. She didn't want him waking and finding some excuse to say no. Gently she unzipped him and had little difficulty hauling his cock out the side of his underpants because it was so shriveled.

Um, what now? It wasn't erecting or whatever guys called it.

Something inside her, something probably related to mothering instinct, guided her. Paris gently blew on the limp dick.

Nothing.

She blew on her hands, warming them, and grasped the wrinkled white object between two fingers against her warmed palms. Either it moved slightly or she was over-expecting. Paris applied another airstream.

Nothing.

But when she blew air straight on to the end of his dick it began to fatten in her hand. Encouraged she dropped it to rip open her shirt and drop her bra below her tits (yes, Paris though of them as tits when with a man as they liked that word -- well, most of them). She giggled softly at her silent ranting and her audacity. She picked up Mr Limp and placed it between her warm mounds. Mr Limp's color improved and strength began to flow into him.

Paris froze as Gilman stirred and muttered something that sounded like 'fat cattle.' His breathing rate slowed again and Paris resumed her quest to be fucked. She blew on the head, watching it closely. It thickened and the pee-hole became larger. She dabbed her tongue at it and shivered in excitement, feeling her breasts swelling and knowing her nipples would be uptight waiting to be caressed or lashed or even nibbled. Hopefully they'd get the lot. Paris dribbled a dob of saliva aiming right at the pee-hole.

Right on target!.

Well she'd have to be convulsing to have missed hovering that close.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh hello. I'm fucking you. Like to join me? We have been introduced and we are long overdue for this."

Stretching, Gilman laughed and said that was a convincing case. "Go ahead," he said, digging both hands into her short curly hair.

Paris could feel herself warming up and reached between her legs with her free hand to slap her pussy a few times, indicating to it to lube up and wait patiently. With that hand on the way back up she tweaked a nipple hard as confirmation it would not be forgotten. Grasping his dick in both hands, committing to taking the lot although earlier she'd declared it was too big for her, Paris slid her tongue around the helmet and grinned triumphantly as that earned a small groan from the beneficiary. She licked it four times, the last stroked she'd lifted it and continued right down to his hairy balls, earning a much longer groan from him.

She then went to work on to, attempting to perform like a champ, until finishing with a big swallow and with cum running out the sides of her mouth.

"How was that?" she said, pulling up and fluttering her eyelashes.

He looked at her starry-eyed and asked, "What planet am I on?"

God, Paris knew she would really love this man and that expectation would grow once he filled her with that dick.

Gilman stood and undressed, the two dogs eyeing him warily. Paris had the lewd thought of Meg coming in behind him and...she tried to block out that thought, convulsed and enjoyed an orgasm.

Gilman kissed her, licked her face and then kissed her deeply at their tongues touched. He then attended to her breasts and she swelled in pride when he lifted to tell her how beautiful they were.

"Thank you," she half panted. "My pussy..." She didn't finish, a little annoyed she was giving instructions. But he was a good boy and immediately went down on her and soon had his tongue buried, possible farther than any tongue had ever been buried in her. She wet it, but not with pee.

Gilman then sank into her, Paris guiding in his erection that perhaps was now even longer and fatter. She accommodated it with apparent ease, making her wonder what she'd been worried about. Perhaps in her desire for him to have a big one her mind had obligingly magnified it to satisfy her. She began rocking and he began pumping and she imagined Meg licking his balls and erupted.

"I felt that," he said. "Hope there are more left to come."

"Sure, an unlimited supply," she fanaticized.

Missionary was okay. Was it ever anything else? She thought about loaning Gilman to her mom, as she'd be in desperate need with her father incapacitated. That caused her to blow again and Gilman murmured good girl and Paris thought of Mr Samuels who was roughly her mom's age and mom and her friends after a few wines would refer to Mr Samuels as 'stickman'. Women together over liquor tended to become dirty, Paris thought as Gilman pulled out. What was he doing? He hadn't cum? Oh no, was he one of those one-shot guys and then she remembered the Chaplain's daughters and smiled, knowing a one-shot guy wouldn't take on two females simultaneously.

Gilman pulled her on to her side, smiling at her to boost her confidence and perhaps expectations, and lifted her leg high. She grabbed it and pulled it back almost level with her ear, opening herself wide and she smiled noting his pleasure that she had that flexibility. He knelt below her on the pile of hay and Paris gurgled loudly in delight as she was pulled on to his dripping cock to rest partly on his left hip. She puffed and he penetrated so far in that probably only a dildo had preceded him at that distance. He pulled her raised leg towards him to hook an arm around it for balance and leverage and satisfied he had a stable platform began stroking into her, telling her it wasn't necessary for her to move.

"Good. I have hay up my butt."

"I'll hook it out with my dick when we've finished here," he said, grinning evilly.

Gawd, she hadn't been butt-fucked for years. Or was he joking? Well it didn't matter; that was something they could try on the second night in the honeymoon suite.

Gilman began talking to Paris and she listened wide-eyed. He told her he expected to have the house extension completed in two weeks including a concrete ramp that would allow her father to be wheeled straight into the SUV that would be driven up on the extended driveway beside it. Once her father was stronger and more mobile he'd be able to go down the ramp in his wheelchair or walking frame, perhaps unassisted.

"You darling boy. You are so wonderful," she said. "It's miraculous that you have come into the life of my family."

Paris stared at him, thumping back at him. Gilman began sweating and his brow attempted to knot itself. She squeezed on his thrusting cock.

"O-o-o-o-h," Gilman groaned feeling his release coming at him like a runaway train. "Paris my only love. Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" she screamed. "Roll me in the hay like this and I'm yours for life." Paris screamed even louder, almost fainting as she bucked into her biggest release ever. She thought she'd call Mr Samuels in the morning to arrange him to do his annual servicing of the packing machinery and the jam bottling plant. She thought of Mr Samuels also servicing her mother -- she and Gilman should go away from the orchard that day -- and wham, she has hit again and she was wet with sweat. Then just as she fell back to rest, exhausted, Meg came at her licking her chops and nose held high, catching the scent.

"Fuck off Meg," she yelled, and slammed into another release and being swept by the horrible thought she was so tuckered out she'd have to be carried back to the house. But she smiled. At least she was back into getting it regularly again.

Gilman then began, almost mumbling, to tell her about the plan to purchase the farm next door, to integrate the two properties after the retirement of her parents and they must retain the existing name of the Jenks' Family Orchard. Once they were married she should call herself Paris Philips-Jenks.

Paris yawned deeply, eyelids fluttering.

"Oh you are such a lovely boy," she sighed, thinking what a perfect afternoon it had been. But then he asked hopefully, "Ready to go again?"

THE END



A Roll in the Hay



Amy Lynn Steele tried to choke back the tears as she watched the blue Chevy van make a large swing in the driveway and then head up the dirt road past her farmhouse. With the tires kicking up some rocks, and spewing dust in billowing clouds past the pansies that encircled the black mail box, Amy'ss honked their horn twice as they gained speed and threaded their way between the hayfield on the right, and the lower pasture on the left. With no one to see her cry, Amy openly wept; her tears streaming down the smooth skin of her cheeks as she felt the anguish of letting her in-laws take her infant daughter for the day. It was the first time her two month old had been out of her sight, and while deep inside she knew Alyson would be just fine, Amy tasted the saltiness of a tear that had trickled over her lip and entered her small mouth. Wiping the tears away with her hand, Amy longed to give her daughter one last kiss on the forehead, but she knew had other obligations as well.

With new resolve, Amy tried to forget her daughter for the moment as she grabbed a wicker basket she had prepared earlier in the day and stepped across the threshold of their sliding glass door that lead to her back deck. Already her mood had improved as being outside on a warm and sun filled day always did. She started to descend the wooden steps to the back lawn, but before she did, she stopped to remove her shoes. Since they were white canvas sneakers, there was no real need to unlace them before she pried each one off from her feet in turn and nonchalantly tossed them onto the deck, not caring that one landed upside down.

Being a farmers wife, there was not a lot of opportunities to go barefoot on the farm, but whenever she could, Amy did, as much for her benefit as for her husband's. Since it was not quite noon, the short grass of the lawn was still damp from evening dew and Amy knew her canvas sneakers would have been soaked only a few minutes into her hike across the upper hay field.

With a group of sheep nickering near the sheep barn, Amy ducked under a barb wire fence and entered the hay field. Here the grass was much taller, but also a deep dark color from the orchard grass and timothy that stood up tall and bent over in waves as the gentle breeze rolled across the hilly New England terrain. Because of this type of grass, not only was she glad she was barefoot, Amy was glad she had chosen to wear her favorite floral print, black and pink sun dress with a hemline that hovered between the midway point between her knees and waistline. At this height, the orchard grass and timothy, which was just starting to head out, kept her dress from getting wet from the dew. Closer to the ground was the thicker, but shorter, white clover that hung onto the dew with ferocity and sent up a wonderful sent of spring dampened grass that was as intoxicating in aroma as a bouquet of flowers.

Just over the rise Amy could hear her husband working the field with his tractor. Amy often teased that he loved and cared for his 8830 New Holland more then he loved her or the baby. While she knew that was not true, she knew he was content to be inside it, the door closed up tight to block out the engine sounds as the radio played and the plow behind him sunk deep into the soil and overturned the sod.

She could almost tell where he was in the field just by the tone of the two hundred horsepower engine. It labored slightly as he ran up the right side of the field, a portion of ground that was uphill, and eased off a bit as he started down the left side which was of course downhill. As Amy walked steadily upwards, she could see the plume of black smoke as one of the plow points hit a rock, but had to hike a few hundred feet more before she could actually see the blue and white tractor. At that distance she could smell the earthen fragrance of the overturned soil, the smell of diesel smoke in the air, and of course the ever present smell of the fresh green grass under her feet.

Once on top of the little knoll, Amy had a commanding view of the countryside. It was one of her most favorite parts of the farm, a location where she could see almost all of the four hundred acres they owned, their farmhouse and the sheep barns. Here though, she could also see the big blue and white tractor dragging behind it a red, seven bottom plow that cut savagely into the soil, flipping it over and exposing fresh green grass into crumbling dirt. Amy was hardly upset at what her husband was doing, because while the grass field was iconic, she also knew the beauty of the farm was the quality of the soil located here. A deep rich loamy gravel; crop rotation was not only the only viable way to raise sheep; it also broke up compaction, aerated the soil and allowed for a higher tonnage of winter feed for the sheep. Ducking under another barb wire fence, Amy made no hesitation about stepping onto the deeply furrowed field even though she had no shoes to protect her delicate feet from being cut by the many rocks and exposed ledge rock that made farming in Maine so difficult.

Despite the rocky soil she stepped on, Amy swooned at the sight of the tractor. She could remember the euphoria of actually buying the farm from her father a year before. With a new wedding band on her left ring finger, their excitement manifested itself by making love in all manner of places, including the old farmhouses slate countertops, inside the hay mound of the barn and of course inside the New Holland tractor. Of all the places Scott and her had made love over the last year, it was the tractor that Amy remembered vividly. Perhaps it was the importance of the machine to the farms profitability, or perhaps it was how wet her panties got as she watched her husband drive the thing with such skilful dexterity. Either way, as Amy walked closer to the tractor, anticipating where she could intercept it, she reminisced about having sex in such a powerful piece of equipment.

"Are you ever coming home", Amy remembered asking Scott when she saw the tractor for the first time? Scott's mom had given her a plate of food to take to Scott and specific directions on which roads to take to get to the isolated field Scott was disc harrowing. With the lights of her husband's pickup truck piercing the darkness, Amy had been worried that she was in the wrong field and would get stuck until she saw the tractor working the field, its own powerful lights illuminating an acre or more of the ground as it pulverized sod with a plethora of steel discs that it towed behind it.

"It's planting season Hon, I really don't know when I am coming home except that when this field is done, and it is taking more passes then I expected."

"Well maybe I should have stated that different; when are you coming to bed," she asked as she struck a sexy little pose?

Amy was not wearing anything overtly sassy, but with her thumbs shoved into the front pockets of her denim blue jeans, the pant legs of which were stylishly rolled up to her calves and an outfit completed with a pair of white flip flops, and ankle bracelet festooned around her left ankle and maroon polo shirt, her young innocent look was sexy enough. Illuminated by a light in the rear fender of the tractor, Amy bent one knee, pointed the toe of her flip flop in the dirt, and tilted her head to the right to get her point across. As a grin spread across Scott's face, Amy formed her own smile and looked Scott square in her eye with her own big blue eyes.

"We don't need to go to bed to do what you want."

"No, but it's freezing out?"

"So we'll do it in the tractor and turn the heat on."

Amy paused for a moment thinking about her options. They were in a distant field in the middle of the night so getting caught was as remote as the field they were in, and even if they did get caught, having only been married for a month, the newly weds would have been excused. Amy cast a glance at the tractor that was less then clean as Scott's boots had dropped mud onto the floor of the cab, and dust kicked up from disc harrow had coated ever surface of the interior of the cab. It was not the ideal place to have sex, but Amy and Scott had engaged in wonderful sex in the backseat of her car, and so having sex in the tractor had a powerful appeal.

"Would that make me a tractor slut?"

"No, just a kinky farm wife," Scott said knowing Amy loved the fact that she was now married.

"I am your wife and if you want to take me in a tractor, I'll let you," Amy said as she bit her lower lip and smiled at her husband.

A second later Amy followed Scott into the tractor not really sure how they were going to pull it off, but knowing that Scott had some ideas. For Scott getting ready meant just tugging down his jeans and underwear as he sat in the comfortable seat of the tractor. For Amy, getting ready was a bit more difficult. She couldn't exactly do the sexy little strip tease she wished she could do for him, but the fact that she was willing to have sex in such a machine was certainly appeal enough. 

Amy started with her polo shirt, and while she did not need to be naked, she knew that was what Scott wanted. She awkwardly pulled the shirt off in the low ceiled cab and then removed her bra, letting her ample breasts spring loose as Scott killed the engine, shut off the operating lights, but switched on the interior dome light so that he could see his bride. Just as clumsily her jeans came next, and Amy could see Scott's growing excitement as her tight jeans were pushed down and her panties slowly came into view. Nearly falling over as she tried to pull her tight fitting folded over pant legs off her feet, she was struggling because she tried to do so over her flip flops. When it became blazingly clear that she would not be able to keep her flip flops on despite the mud on the floor, Amy gave up all caution to wind and removed her flip flops, then the jeans, and ignored the mud under her bare soles of her feet. Scott had already put his hands on his wife's slender hips and worked them down to her knees.

"Scott," she said as if she objected, but Scott knew she had no objections to him helping her take his clothes off. In the past he had done it using only his teeth; he had done so on their wedding night, and had done it while she was hopelessly tied to all four corners of the bed posts. Now as she whisked her panties off her feet, she knew there was only one position they could take in the fairly confined space of the cab. Scott flipped up both arm rests of the tractor seat, adjusted the air ride seat with a bit more air as Amy faced him and sat in his lap. 

Amy was not sure what touched her first, Scott's lips upon hers, or the tip of his cock as she reached underneath it and gently steered I towards her sex. She was not overly wet as there had been little foreplay, but undressing in such a unique place, and seeing her husband's erection pulsate in anticipation of being inside her was enough to dampen her insides. She also knew the unique position would help, as her own body weight would help to sink Scott's shaft fully inside her.

Scott seemed to understand this too and helped prep Amy's body by stealing light kisses at first, and then romantically invading her mouth with his tongue. Amy truly felt as she was being ravished by her husband as his tongue and his shaft entered her simultaneously. A deep feeling of passion overtook her as she felt the operator's seat bottom out from both of their bodies compressing it, and then without being able to descend any more, Scott's cock began sliding deep into her sex. In fact Amy was not sure if she had ever been taken so deeply when Scott finally came to rest. With her hips rotated backwards, and her legs splayed wide with her bare feet pressed tightly against the back window, it was the perfect position in which to be entered. 

"Oh my God," Amy murmured through Scott's lips as Amy realized she was in complete control. With her position on top of Scott, she could regulate the speed in which he sent his shaft in and out of her by manipulating her body up and down on his shaft. And the feeling was liberating. Because her hips were rotated backwards, Scott's pelvis was rubbing on her clit, exciting her in ways that having sex on the bed never could.

Scott knew he could still do more then sit there with the euphoric feeling of his shaft deeply impaled in his wife's body. Knowing his wife was a hopeless romantic, he continued to kiss her with zeal that could only come from the life time commitment of marriage. With head tilted, his mouth completely open and his tongue lashing her tongue with longing and love, Amy swooned with passion from it all. Part of her felt that Scott's passion came from having spent years inside the cab of a tractor, his mind endless thinking as the sod behind him was pulverized and he inevitably wondered what it would be like to have sex in a tractor. But Amy knew that was only part of it, the real reason they were making love with such ferocity was that he truly loved her.

With that powerful thought, Amy began to increase her tempo, the seat rising and falling upon its cushion of air as Amy sent her husband thrusting inside her in a rather fast pace. Normally she liked to take it slow, letting her body build up to a credenza, but today with her clit being rubbed in unison, she was building to a very fast orgasm. Breaking the open mouthed kiss, she began to moan and pant in time with the thrusts. Already their built up heat was starting to steam the numerous windows up and she could no longer keep her eyes open.

Amy really did not need too; she could envision her husband's young, stout form rippling from years of farm work. That was all she really needed to see, for the dirty floor, empty cans of soda and bolts laying on the tractor cab floor was more of a distraction than anything else. And certainly she did not need her eyes open to smell her husband's unique scent that Amy was so familiar with. Hardly offensive, it was her's and her's alone and knew no other woman knew of it, much less appreciated it as much as her. Amy also knew she had her own sweet fragrance, especially with Scott slipping in and out of her sex with abandon, and even if it would linger in the cab for hours, it would not bother her husband any as he finished tilling the field.

Scott kept trying to reinsert his mouth onto hers, but as Amy bounced wildly up and down upon his shaft, the moving target was bobbing way to wildly for Scott to plant a kiss with any accuracy. Willing to let his wife take what she wanted, he began to close his eyes and tried to think about anything but the wondrous feeling he felt welling up in his balls. It was all too familiar of a feeling, and while often times Scott could think of other things and delay his release, he knew in this circumstance there was no way he would be able too. Amy was riding him with rapidity and he found her inner walls snug, slick and descended upon his entire shaft with each thrust.

"Amy I'm close", he said as he always did just before getting off. He had no idea why, because while it seemed like he was asking for permission, the reality was he could not stop it any more then he could change the commodity prices of lamb. Still there was no need to delay the inevitable because Amy was even closer. She had been building up to a powerful climax from the very moment Scott had entered her, and the inadvertent rubbing of her clit had spurned her on to an incredible orgasm. That burst forth with one final plunge and as her voice moaned out, it spurned her husband's release as well.

As they climaxed together, each one in turn nearly passed out from the incredible pleasure of it all. Amy's inner walls quivered with power, milking Scott's balls of every drop of come it could produce. As powerful ejaculation after ejaculation pumped into her vagina, Scott and Amy could both feel their juices intermingling as never before, a product of their unique position that invaded all their senses and made the moment almost too much for each of them to handle.

"Oh my God", Amy said as a moment of silence and inactively allowed the two of them to retreat from the cloud of pleasure that true marital sex allowed. She did not say it, but a mutual climax had only occurred twice before in their relationship and she knew the memory of this lovemaking session would live with her forever. "God Scott I love you so much."

"I love you too", Scott said in turn, finally opening his eyes from the near blackout he had due to the intensity of his orgasm. 

Now as Amy watched Scott drive the tractor across the field, she had no way of knowing that Scott was thinking about that night as well. He longed for a repeat of that night, as he spent hours inside the cab and it was only natural to want to incorporate the farm, the tractor and his true love into one pleasurable moment.

Now though that Scott could see Amy stepping across each furrow; for a moment was concerned something was wrong as she did not have the baby with her. That fear subsided as he watched her movements and realized she was moving in too much of a care-free way to need him for any sort of emergency. He also knew as he drew closer that she was wearing his favorite sundress. Light and airy, a little short and a little tight, Scott had always loved how she looked in it, and while the recent baby had filled it out a little bit more then last year, Scott still found her attractive as all husband's do who truly love their wives.

As he drew within twenty feet of her, he was merely going to stop and pick her up, keeping the plowing going as she rode around with him in the tractor, but when Scott saw that she was barefoot and carrying a picnic basket, he knew Amy wanted far more then lunch. Slipping the throttle back to an idle, Scott shifted the big tractor into neutral before turning the key and pulling the plunger that shut off the loud and powerful engine. With a flick of his wrist, he popped open the left side door and Amy watched with amazement as her strong husband decided the steps from the cab and walked the twenty feet over to her.

"Where is Amber", Scott asked as Amy stood on her tippy-toes to greet her husband with a kiss, their lips connecting just as he finished his question? Scott broke the kiss after their lips touched in a loving, but less then romantic way, at which Amy was not about to let him off so easily. Letting her answer wait, Amy wrapped her arms around her husband and kissed him for a full ten seconds, letting her tongue connect and lash with his until there was no question that she loved him and only him, and what she had trekked all into the field for.

"She is with your parent's", Amy said, her seductive smile unable to hide her passion from the kiss they had just shared.

"So you brought me lunch then?"

"Yeah I brought lunch," Amy said with a slight heft of the wicker basket as proof. "I hated to let her go, but I know it's important for her grandparents to have some alone time with her, and between the farm work and the baby, we have not had much time alone either."

"Well I was hoping to get this field plowed up before nightfall but...", he said, his words trailing off as Amy shot him a dirty look, and standing in her little sundress and bare feet, Scott knew that grabbing some sandwiches and eating while plowing was not part of her plans. Taking a glance back at the tractor, Scott realized it would be just fine and started after Amy who was headed toward the top of the knoll.

As the two of them walked, Scott could not help but reach out with his hand and cup her right ass cheek and give it a little squeeze. He was not sure what he expected, either from Amy as a reaction, but he expected to feel something underneath, failing to feel anything, he could not help but quiz his wife.





A Roll in the Hay



"No panties Amy?"

"There's nothing under this dress," she announced with a little twist, pulling her bottom out of his cupped hand in a mock show of resistance. As she did so she started running and laughing; and quick to catch on, Scott started after her.

Amy was at a slight disadvantage being both barefoot and carrying a rather heavy picnic basket loaded with food. Still she was young, of slender build and jogged every day in an effort to rid herself of the baby-weight she gained. She managed to make it fifty yards uphill until she could hear Scott's heavy boots thudding over the grass behind her. Accepting her fate, Amy turned around just in time to drop the picnic basket to the ground and be swept up in Scott's arms.

For the interim, Amy did not want to be anywhere else. She could never be in his arms enough, but when she was, Amy felt safe, secure and loved, and never failed to be impressed by his brute strength. Even now he lifted her one hundred and thirty pound frame up with little effort, and then placed her on her back, oblivious to the fact that the ground was a little damp.

"You're going to get grass stains on my sundress", she exclaimed when she realized the grass was still pretty wet down low by the clover.

"So take your dress off."

"Later", she said, the single word being more of a promise then a retort as she looked at him with her big blue eyes and flashed her most seductive grin. "There is actually a blanket in the picnic basket. We can put that down first, and then I'll take my dress off."

Scott was quick to pull the picnic basket over and let Amy's lay out her plans as she spread the blanket over the grass and then crawled on top. Scott quickly joined her, but now that Amy's attention had been snapped away from sex, and into the preliminaries of the picnic lunch she had planned, she could not help but to continue to pull out some of the food and arranged it tastefully on the blanket. Scott could tell that Amy was momentarily distracted, but with his own stomach lightly rumbling, he knew their sex could wait.

"Wow, no wonder that picnic basket was so heavy; you had a bottle of wine in there, some sandwiches, slices of cheese...everything. How long have you been planning this?"

"For a couple of days now. It's been really hectic with the baby and all, and of course this being planting season, but sometimes it is nice to just stop and remember what is important."

"Like us", Scott said knowing where this was going?

"Yes", Amy said as her small fingers slipped around the thin spaghettis straps of her pink and black sun dress and lifted it over her head in a single move. As the feathery cotton dress flapped lightly in the breeze and revealed all of his wife's long slender body, Scott was amazed at how much such a meager article of clothing could cover. Without a bra, panties or even thong hiding her most intimate of parts, Amy was completely nude for her husband as she nonchalantly tossed the dress by the picnic basket and simultaneously struck up a little pose for him.

Scott continued to be sprawled on the blanket, his head propped up with one arm as he used the other to pick some white grapes from a bunch and individually place each one into his mouth as he took in all of Amy's body poised before him. Like him, she too was propped up on one arm, but she had her right leg stretched out, her hips slightly rotated towards him with her left leg crossed over her right leg, her foot placed on the blanket by her knee. With her left arm stretched outward and her left wrist resting on her knee, it was a relaxed look for her, and the sultriest of poses she could muster. Since she was not moving, Scott knew Amy was secretly looking for Scott's approval of her nude body. With the arrival of the baby, it had gone through many changes, and yet Scott could only see sheer beauty.

With the baby came a heavier chest, something Amy never had a lot of before, but now her fleshy globes were more perky, the right one listing slightly to the right from her twisted position, while the left remained round and full. Further down Scott could not see the entirety of where her legs met her hips, but he could see that she had taken the time to crop the hair to smallish triangle that was a cross between stylish and proper. It was a look he enjoyed, but he did not concentrate his gaze there for long, nor along her long outstretched legs. A quick glance up them to her toes and then he brought his gaze back up to her face where she was grinning, instinctively knowing what her husband was thinking as he took in all of her fine form.

Once their eyes locked, Scott was truly smitten with her beauty for Amy had a lovely oval face, deep blue eyes and mid length blond air that was being blown out of her eyes by a light breeze from their prominent poison on the hill. She had to squint a bit from the sun that was at the peak of its azimuth, but it also bathed her nude body in full sunshine and glinted off her gold wedding band brilliantly since it only had a year of tarnish on it. It was the only jewelry she wore at the moment, though at times she wore a chain and locket around her neck, a little gold watch and a toe ring now and then. The fact that she wore none of these things now told Scott that she wanted his undivided attention on her feminine beauty and nothing else.

Framed by a back ground of rolling hills, charming New England rock walls and black faced sheep merrily grazing away on distant pasture, Scott longed for a camera to capture the moment. Deep inside he knew there was no physical way such a device could capture the moment accurately though because the moment was more then a three dimensional image. It was the sound of the breeze rolling across the open fields and smell of fresh cut grass and overturned soil from the plowed up field a hundred yards distant. It was also the feel of the soft blanket underneath his hand, scrunched up with thick clover trapped underneath. The one sense that was missing however was taste, and while he could have slipped one of the grapes into his mouth and crushed it, feeling the sweet fluid separate from the skin, he chose a secondary use for the lowly fruit.

Moving for the first time, he gave the little grape a small, strategic toss, and watched it arch in the air and hit Amy's skin between her bare breasts. He had hoped it would have rolled down from there and landed in Amy's belly button, but in life such idyllic moments seldom happened, and instead the grape rolled down her inclined body until it came to rest on her right thigh.

"I'll get that", Scott said with a grin and moved quickly from his position on the blanket. For a moment Amy thought Scott was going to scoop it up with his mouth, crush it and then give her the deepest kiss imaginable. Instead Scott did something far better. Slurping the grape up, he trailed small kisses on her thigh until he dropped down to the inside of her thigh. As he began to give her a hickey there, Amy instantly knew what he had planned and collapsed onto the blanket flat on her back. It only took a second for Scott to shift his wife around, splay her legs wide and then position his mouth over her sex.

"Oh my God Scott", she exclaimed when his mouth touched her sex, his tongue fully extended as he lapped up as much of her feminine nectar as he could in one powerful lick. It was a copious amount as Amy had been turned on from her first step into the field. Walking barefoot across the pasture, seeing their farm from and elevated view, and watching her husband toil in the field had all contributed to the intense pleasure she felt. Now that feeling was only intensified as she looked down, her legs splayed wantonly as her husband reached up to grip both of her hands into his; their finger interlaced, and began to give her head in the most wondrous of ways, and in the most beautiful of places.

It had been months since he had tasted her; between the pregnancy, birth and ultimately the first few months of the baby's life, the two had not been intimate. Now the two of them were taking the time, a true nooner no less, and it felt heavenly. In fact Amy thought her husband must have been a woman in another lifetime because he always lapped her most sensitive of places with such skill and diligence, almost as if he knew just where and when his tongue should touch her, and with how much force and skill. 

Grass, sunshine and sex; Amy knew as a farmwife it did not get much simpler then that, and while the rest of the world made farming far more complex then it had to be, Amy and Scott were certainly grounded in the simpler things in life. And Scott started rather simply here as well, lightly touching the tip of his tongue to her sex and doing so very slowly so that her body slowly woke up.

She watched as Scott's head glided itself between her legs, their bodies half on and half off the blanket, a tuff of orchard grass stuffing itself up between her torso and her their left hands that were still tightly gripping each other's fingers. With their heads now so close to the ground, the slight rise of the hill just ahead of them put them in the lee side of the hill which made for a quieter place. She could still hear the breeze pressing down the grass in waves, but she could hear Scott's ministrations with much more clarity. He obviously enjoyed what he was doing, and she could hear his tongue making slight slurping noises and zipping sounds as it ran over a combination of folds, hair and scented skin.

While Scott could only smell one thing, his nose being firmly pressed into such a sodden region of Amy's body, she was given the pleasure of a multitude of smells, from the green grass she was half laying upon, to the smell of home made jelly that was tucked into heir sandwiches. Still she could smell the unmistakable smell of an incredibly turned on lady, and Amy was not embarrassed in the least as she emanated these smells as her husband continued to bring up more and more from his skillful use of his tongue upon her clitoris.

But it was the sense of everything around her that drove Amy absolutely wild. Never had she felt so vibrant, a pleasure that came from making love with the man she loved in the middle of an open field on their farm in the middle of the day.

As the sun warmed their bodies, and the heat from within ignited unimaginable euphoria, Amy's mind went wild with passion. She tossed her head back and forth in uncontrollable ways, and longed to grip Scott's head and press it harder onto her sex until she released her orgasm that was winding its way up. But Scott's hands upon hers prevented that, and it was a mixture of restraint and intimacy as his tongue continued to ply upon her now swollen sex.

Now mad with lust, Amy shook her hands until they came loose from Scott's interlaced fingers and began to slide them all over her body. It took every ounce of her strength to keep them from descending to Scott's lovely head and manipulating his head with wanton abandon. Instead she let them descend to her breasts where she shamelessly stimulated herself by kneading them then took her finger and flicked each nipple in turn endlessly.

The intense erotic pleasure of her movements became obvious when Amy's breath got deeper and deeper, her body spontaneously moving as she drew taught like a bow, her hands slipping down to her thighs where she tugged on her legs, bringing them into the air so that her hips rolled and brought more of her clitoris in contact with her husband's skilful mouth. Feeling this, Scott increased the pressure on her clit and began to move faster; not merely his tongue, but his entire head, moving in small figure eights that brought his tongue, lips, nose and cheeks into the marvelous act. It was the latter that stimulated Amy to no end; having worked upon the plow since before sun-up, Scott had not had the chance to shave, and she found the little whiskers rough, but pleasurably so as they rubbed the insides of her thighs and made her entire hips warm with liquidity. 

Amy tried to force her eyes open and take in the sight of her husband's face buried between her legs, but the intense pleasure was too much, and she closed her eyes as her body twisted and she moaned uncontrollably in pleasure. Now with his hands free, Scott put them to good use by splaying her folds outward and driving his mouth in deep as he continued to lap feverishly at her clitoris.

No longer having the strength to hold her legs up, Amy let them fall upon Scott's shoulders as she went wild, crying out in abandon, screaming Scott's name over and over as she reached a series of violent orgasms, flooding her husband's face with her nectar that eagerly lapped them up. After the young woman finished shaking, and her hands went slack letting her legs fall back to the blanket and grass, she had to push her husband's mouth off her sex as it was proving to be overly sensitive.

"Don't you want another one", Scott said, trying to prove to his young wife that he was more then willing to take care of her needs first?

"Yes, but I want it inside me", she exclaimed, her eyes expressing her incredible need more so than her words. 

And Scott took note. Amy had always been open minded when it came to sex, their lovemaking never having a predictable pattern to it, and while he would have enjoyed the pleasurable feeling of her lips sliding over his shaft for a few moments, the fact that she specified exactly what she wanted indicated that she had a need to be filled in a special and loving way. And Scott was more then willing. Amy had been kind enough to give him a few blowjobs in the later stages of her pregnancy, and even a few times after having the baby just to provide a little relief for him, but now it was time for the two of them to truly become one again.

Now as Amy's sex continued to quiver from the titillation of Scott's tongue, she swooned with desire as Scott began to remove his clothes. It helped that Scott locked his hazel eyes upon hers as he gripped the black T-shirt he wore, the front of which was tinted with smudged dirt and festooned with small holes from the welding he had done on the plow earlier in the morning, and pulled it over his head. Scott did it slowly of course so that his wife could see his taunt stomach and buff chest be revealed progressively which he knew she enjoyed. From having grown up on a farm, such developed muscles came from hard work rather then superficial workout machines at a gym, so his muscles were far more defined; a reality that did not escape Amy and impressed her.

In fact his slow method of undress impressed her as well; the wonderful view of her husband's gradually revealed body framed by their farm in the background stirred deep feeling of love as he stooped down to untie his black boots. It was intensely powerful as her body recovered from its powerful climax, but was still drawing growing pleasure at the sight of her husband undressing.

As the pause in meaningful undress began, Amy could see his other features as well. For many ladies they would have seemed mundane; light brown hair, long arms and matching long fingers that her mother jokingly referred to as piano fingers. The only reason Amy noted these small features now was because she saw them every time she laid her daughter down to change her diaper. A mirror image of her dad, Amy could remember holding her daughter for the first time and counting her fingers and toes and noting how long they were, just as her dad's were.

Amy's mind was jerked back to reality though when a barefoot Scott stood up and began to unbuckle his belt. It was all Amy could do from jumping up off the blanket and undoing Scott's belt for him; something she had long enjoyed. Since first meeting him, Amy had always known Scott to wear the same bronze John Deere belt buckle, tarnished by time, it had been given to him by his grandfather and Amy remembered the pleasantries of unbuckling it early into their relationship, well into their engagement, and now into their marriage. Unbuckling it and fishing for Scott's manhood meant untold pleasure was about to start, just as she knew it was about to start now.

With eagerness, Amy watched from her spot upon the blanket as he slipped his thumbs into the waistband of his blue jeans and began to push them down. Tall and slender, Scott's long legs presented a lengthy project at the protracted pace in which he was doing so, and Amy thought she was going to go mad with desire before he stepped out of them. 

Amy watched with anticipation as Scott's jeans began to loosen from the release of the button and the slide of his zipper which made a distinctive zipping sound as it did so. As the tight fabric released around his thighs, Amy watched the denim fold, twist, and fall down upon itself as it descended down his legs towards his bare feet. At this point Amy no longer watched his pants as she was fixated upon the only remaining clothing he had on. At this Amy had always been disappointed. She loved men in boxers, but even at her request, Scott preferred the boring tidy whities and this was what she looked at now. While she had always placated Scott's wishes by wearing thongs, Scott could not be swayed into wearing the more fashionable and far sexier boxers.

It was the only disappointment though in an otherwise wonderful strip tease, and being less than desirable underwear, Amy's gaze only followed its downward movement to his knees before her eyes locked upon what really mattered.

Long and hard, Amy never tired of looking at her husband's cock, now arched and pulsating, the curve shifting to the left as it always was when he was anticipating sex. While the number of men Amy had been with was limited, Scott's was the only one she had seen that had not been circumcised. She knew that came from him being born in the farmhouse they now occupied, just as his father, and his father's father before him had. It was also the reason she had had laid across the guest room bed, mid-wife beside her, and while gripping the brass headboard in pain, had given birth to their daughter in the same traditional way as well.

Regardless of tradition, it was a look and feel Amy had grown to love; in her mouth, certainly inside her sex, and while not as often, inside her ass when the two off them tried that type of sex as well. Even looking at it now, she thought it looked bigger that way, and surprisingly more natural as well. Regardless of how it looked, it was her husband's and Amy knew exactly the intense pleasure it was capable of giving her and sitting on the blanket, she was more then ready to stop looking at it, and wanted desperately to feel it.

"You can enjoy me Hon", she teased as she sprawled up on top of the blanket and spread her legs wide in an open invitation. As she did so, Amy felt him position the tip of his cock on her trimmed pussy lips. He used his cock to open and explore her, the tip just dipping inside, sliding into her wetness that had been generated from the oral sex he had given her. That kind of attention always turned her on, so did taking cock, especially one inch at a time, which was what he was doing now. He gave her another inch and then rode her like that, just the tip, in and out, trying to be easy on her as it was the first time they had sex since having the baby.

Amy protested as she wanted it all, all eight inches that she knew he possessed; all of his girth that could fill her to overwhelming proportions and that could spurn her on to another orgasm. Seething with lust from the searing tongue licking she had just received, she wanted nothing less than for him to slam into her to the hilt, molding her skin to fit his hands, her pussy to fit his cock tightly as he drove her bottom into the soft tuffs of grass that lay crumpled under the blanket below her. She did not want to be teased, it had been far too long since she had been with her husband and she just wanted to be taken.




A Roll in the Hay



Now with her pussy contracted on the head of his cock, trying to pull her young husband inside her. Finally he took pity on her and gave her more. Pressing her against the ground, he wiggled his hips and sent his shaft deeply inside her and it was an act she was thrilled with. She loved being filled by him, and enjoyed the warmth that spread throughout her body leaving her in a complete loss of control. She was overwhelmed by his size, forgetting how fulfilled she felt when the two of them where coupled as one. With his big hands around her slender waist, his hard thighs pressing into her, Amy reacted by arching up further to him, offering him more of her...all of her, and he took what she gave him with abandon.

"God you're one hot wife," he said, then he began driving the full, hard length of his cock into her, letting his balls slap against her, spanking her with them, easing off and then thrusting forward again. His hips snapped against her, forcing her into his rhythm, a rhythm Amy loved. She dug her nails into the soil as far as she could plunging her fingers, and thrust back against him, moving with him, loving the speed and exhilaration of their lovemaking under such a fabulous and picturesque place. Her heart was also racing and her breath was ragged despite years of playing tennis. To be so taken, so smitten, so fucked breathless that it was incomprehensible and only to be explained away as the exhilaration of having someone make love to her who had vowed his devotion to her in front of God, family and friends.

She started to contract around him in the way men love best when they were the deepest they could be inside her. She squeezed as hard as she could, loving the ache building within her. The walls of her pussy opened and closed on him like a fist. He lifted her up off the blanket feeling the mass of the ground below it as it absorbed the dew of the nightfall and radiated it back out onto her nude body as Scott plunged into her from above. No matter how hard he took her, Amy felt so small in his grip, loving his tender roughness. She melted into his embrace as he kissed the curve of her neck, nibbled endlessly on her earlobes and used his tongue to lick along the ridge of her shoulder, the smell of the freshly overturned soil a hundred yards away hitting her flaring nostrils as he did so.

Then there was the shudder, a shudder she had felt many times, but not with so much guttural force and not with a man that was now the father of her child. Knowing Scott's pleasure could no longer be withheld, Amy felt it jettison inside of her. It was a warm; sticky sensation that filled up her womb and made her swoon with enjoyment just as she reached her own powerful climax. With the realization of what monumental results could stem from such mutual climaxes, Amy realized the two of them were throwing caution to the wind from their unprotected sex, but that thought was quickly lost with the rush of euphoria that came from her own pent up release.

Amy was a little sore as she felt her husband withdraw from deep within her sex. Secretly she wished he would have allowed himself to go completely soft before pulling it out of her, but as she heard it make an audible pop, she knew there was no way he could read her mind. Still she had no qualms about what her and Scott had just done even though it was a few weeks earlier then what her gynecologist had suggested. The love, passion and intimacy had instantly been brought back into their marriage and Amy knew it was exactly what she needed. With beautiful baby girl, a wonderful husband and a rekindled sex life, Amy felt grounded and wholesome as never before.

Looking down at her husband, Amy was not surprised that her husband was nearly asleep. He had gotten up hours before dawn and had fixed the plow by welding it so that he could start plowing at first light. Now with the sunshine falling down brightly upon their nude bodies, a gently breeze making it bearable and the passion he had just put into their lovemaking, Amy could see the exhaustion in him.

"Are you okay Amy? I was trying to go easy on you, but it's been awhile and I got a little excited."

"I'm a little sore, but since this is the first time since having a baby, that is to be expected. It's okay though, I needed it. We needed it."

"That's good, but while I hate to get up but I supposed if I am ever going to finish plowing..."

"I know, but I need a few minutes more with you", she said as she placed her feet into his lap. Scott nodded and took her bare feet into his hands and was rubbing her arches in the long, soft strokes Amy always loved. Now it was Amy who found herself falling asleep, but through slits in her eyes smiled as she watched a breeze roll the grass over in and endless wave that sped towards the house, skipped over the house and barnyard, and picked up on the field on the other side and kept running across that pasture until it rolled out of sight. With the manly scent of her husband's lips still on her lips, and the taste of wine and cheese intermingling as well, Amy was completely content as a farmwife.

"You know we probably should have used something huh? I was just thinking, my Mom had me eleven months after having my sister."

"Like what, a condom?"

"I guess."

"Well you are not using a condom with me Scott. I'm your wife and I would give birth to thirteen of your children if I had to," she said as she reached over and gave him another passionate kiss that lingered for another ten seconds.