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” He grinned ruefully and thought, “That almost goes for farming, too, except it’s only 80 percent boredom, because there’s 10 percent frustration if you survive terror.” He looked across the field toward his house. “And there’s a lot of walking involved, too,” he thought. As he trudged across the field, careful to step over the freshly raked rows, he heard a car horn from out on the road. “What happened? Did your tractor decide to lay down for a nap?” yelled Bob. “Hit a ground hog hole,” he yelled back. “Mind giving me a lift into Fort Smallwood? There’s a gas station owner there with an old-style chain hook tow rig. He can right this thing for me.” On the way to Fort Smallwood – which is really no more than a crossroads, not a town – Bob told Terry about his conversation with George and Isolde. “What did they think?” asked Terry. “Well, neither of them exactly said so in words, but he had a gleam in his eye like he was interested. And she sure seemed interested, especially. I urgently unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants off him. He pulled my skirt down with as much urgency. I kissed down his body and stopped when I reached his hard cock that had made his boxers into a satisfying tent shape. I licked it through the material and then got one hand firmly around it, squeezing and then releasing. He begged me to take his boxers off, so I did. I licked the pre cum off the top of his cock and sucked on each of his balls, then circled my tongue around the base of his cock. I took as much of him into me as I could, and was then forced to take more by his hands on the back of my head, chocking, I went up and down his beast of a cock until he warned me he was about to come. I let his cum spurt out across my neck and breasts and began to lick it off. ‘Let me help you with that,’ he said, and proceeded to lick his cum off of me. It was so erotic and wrong. I loved it. ‘My turn,’ he said, with a devilish wink and a cocky grin. He sucked at my panties, just on.
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