A trip to Grand dad’s farm Part 1

My grandfather had inherited his grandfather’s farm and while it had been operated as a genuine milk producing farm for many years my grandfather had changed all that. By the time I was 16 and going out with my steady girl Joyce it had become more of a summer home, with a large quantity of grass lands.

The animals had been sold off, and the hired help’s cottage was closed, my grandfather let the fields turn to hay, which was cut and baled by his cousins and sold on the American market. We still traveled out to the house almost every weekend from May 18 till about Sept 20 or so. My grandparents having a permanent residence in Montreal used the farm as more or less a summer cottage, to say the least and expected their three children to show up on a regular basis.

My two sisters, myself, along with a male and female cousin were the only children welcome, or permitted more or less to show up with our parents. There was indeed something of a queer situation, but I never thought much of it back then. Looking at the situation now that I am of the age of my grandparents, I would imagine that the problem was more or less a financial one, no one wanted extra mouths to feed.

There were times when there were huge family gatherings, but again it was all blood relations, no outsiders. I had, when I was 11 or 12 managed to invite a friend for the week end, I am not certain how it worked but my father agreed and everything seemed to go well. The next time however I asked to invite someone I was told that I would not be allowed to do so again and the explication was left at that.

Until one weekend when my mother had gone to visit her parents and my father was left minding the three of us. I was now 16, I was not a trouble maker, but I did not see why I could not stay at home all alone for one weekend. I thought of course that if I was allowed to stay home, I would be able to have my girl Joyce over for some unsupervised time. Perhaps my father knew a bit more than I figured, any how we got into an heated discussion, and before I knew it he had agreed to allow me to invite Joyce to accompany us for a week end trip to the farm.

Now Joyce and I had been very ingenious at finding ways to play sexual games when ever and where every an opportunity presented itself, so we were very excited with the news that we would be together for a whole weekend. Plans formed in my head faster than I could conceive them , if you catch the drift of things. I am not too certain just what Joyce was thinking but as things worked out I imagine she was just as occupied planning her weekend trysts as I was.

Joyce was able to obtain permission from her parents without any trouble at all. There were times I wondered if her parents really cared what we did together as long as it did not interfere with them. Fortunately for us, we were never supervised when we were together at her place. This provided us with many occasions to play little sexual games, to the point of having Joyce undressed, bare ass naked, while her parents or at least one parent was not too far away. They may have been in the next room or up stairs, or perhaps in the house while we in the yard or the reverse. My parents however, well my mother in most cases was like a hawk around us, if we so much touched one another in a manner that was not to her liking we would be told to behave ourselves. My father well he was never home when Joyce was over so I had no idea of how he might have reacted to a bit of fooling around.

I was cautious, but overjoyed, that my father had given into to my request, so when we picked Joyce up on Saturday, I asked if she would really mind just sitting in the back seat with my sisters, rather than with me. At first she began to object, and pout a bit but I quickly explained my concerns about what my father’s reaction might be if we were to cuddle in the back seat. Once she understood, that we were in untested waters, and that we had to proceed carefully, at least while we were in his sight of vision, Joyce entered in the goody-goody role model that she had played many times before.

The trip to the country, while usually an hour’s drive seemed much longer that Saturday morning. I kept a running commentary with Joyce from the front seat explaining all about the area in which we were travelling, in the hope that my father would appreciate the fact that I had been listening to him and had learned from the stories he related over the many years as we covered this route. In attempt to hedge off any doubts or concerns that might arise over the weekend I continued to tell Joyce all about the wonders of the farm that I was going to be showing her. I of course had plans to be showing her , or at least exposing her to other aspects of things, but that was none of my father’s business.

Once we arrived , plied out of car, and made the necessary introductions to my grandparents, I took Joyce to show her the bedroom my grandmother had suggested she use and deposited her bags. Having found that we were not followed, not even by my sisters, I could not help groping her young body just a bit, kissing my Joyce in anticipation of being alone together during this fine week end. Following a bit of fooling around I gave her the grand tour of the large old farm house ending the visit at the outhouse, where several comments were made about the three holer, and the old barn wood slats.

We were called for lunch at about that time, given what I had gone through with my other invited guest, things seemed to be going alright. Perhaps it was Joyce’s doing, being so polite and appreciative or the fact that she was a girl and not a guy, but what ever it was I could not have felt better. During lunch I tried very hard to set the plans for the afternoon, telling Joyce about the upstairs armoury, the milk house, the grain shed and the old barn ( leaving out any reference to the hay loft) My purpose of course was to see how much opposition I might encounter visiting any of these buildings with a young lady in tow.

My grandfather mentioned that the milk house was locked, because of the danger of someone falling into the now unused milk-can basin. Comments about mice were made in regard to the granary, and I was told that the old farm hand’s house and outer buildings were a bit dangerous to be visited, but other than that it appeared we were free to roam until supper time or around 6 30 PM.

Joyce and I lost no time eating, finishing much before any one else , we excused ourselves from the table and set off to take care of a bit of personal business. I ushered Joyce off to the three holer, and left for the wood shed, which I had not told her was right next to the room she was going to be sitting in. Now a long time ago my cousin found himself a place in the wood shed next to that three holer, where he could take a leak with out being disturbed. This location provided him with a wonderful opportunity to look through the slats and watch whoever was taking care of their personal business in one of the chosen holes. Having shown the location to me, we had passed many minutes standing there looking at our sisters do their thing and had even managed on a couple occasions to watch our newest aunt take a leak and wipe her hairy cunt with toilet paper. That day we had to relieve ourselves before we left the shed as the tell tale signs of our tented young cocks would have given us away for sure.

So there I, was my eyes pushed up against the slats of the wall, watching as my girl Joyce, unzipped her slacks, pulled down her white cotton panties and sat on the middle hole, directly in my line of vision. The fun thing about these old out house units, is that your bottom does not quite fit like it does on a modern day toilet seat. In order to feel comfortable and not feel like you are going to fall though the hole into that large pile of old turds at the bottom you have to spread your legs a bit wider than usual.

I watched as Joyce settled herself, fidgeting trying to place herself in a more comfortable position, finally advancing her the lower portion of her body closer to the front edge of the seat and spreading her legs a good width. In this position I was afforded a view of loveliness, her pink cunt lips pulsating slowly, hidden , well covered by her shiny light bush of blond hairs. I watched as Joyce increased the rhythm of those pulsating lips, causing them to bulge forward until a golden stream of piss flowed forth, creating a cutting like sound as it tore into the dried turds at the bottom of the hole.

Suddenly , unexpected by me I watched in awe as Joyce let go of several large brown turds of her own, accompanied by the sound of several farts echoing in the wooden cabinet as her personal objects thudded down into our family’s pile of passed treasures. Once the event subsided, Joyce stood, legs spread, and with her long fingers delicately wiped the remnants of her job with the toilet paper. To my further delight Joyce turned her back to me, bent slightly and proceeded to clean her little puckered hole not that I could see very much. I felt myself surge, just thinking of her pressing her fingertips to this part of her anatomy. I quickly realized that I had to control myself, if I wanted to get out of the shed before Joyce came looking for me. Any tell tale signs of me having a throbbing hard cock bulging out in my pants would not be good at all. So I watched her finish up , keeping my emotions in check. It did help once she had pulled her pants back up, she turned and looked down into the hole in which she had dropped her business. I thought back then, HUH city people, not used to shitting in a dry holer, but then I realized that both my cousin and I did the very same thing each and every time, as we wanted to see just how our load situated itself when it was dropped. I guessed girls were no different.

I moved quickly , to the entrance of the kitchen, waiting for Joyce to arrive and ask the question, as the farm house had no running water, the out house was not equipped to wash your hands. As Joyce rounded the hall corner, I pointed to the outside landing where there was a large rain barrel, which was equipped with a tap outlet, and told her there was a cake of lye soap on the small table. She looked a bit surprised that I would respond before she had spoken, but then she did not know what I had just witnessed, and I never got around to telling her.

We took off from the back landing, travelling though the passage between the wood shed and the carriage house, and headed towards the barn , particularly the hay loft where I felt we could play a few games without being interrupted. Once inside, I directed Joyce into one of the enclosures that had been used as a birthing area for claves. I eased her into a corner from where I could watch out the dirty old window, just as a precaution. I immediately began kissing her and rubbing my hands all over her body, causing her to melt more or less into me. Once I had established a pattern , I carefully, eased my hand between us and undid the buttons on her blouse, pulling it open, providing me with access to her bare chest.

Having successfully accomplished this, as I continued to duel with Joyce’s tongue, I massaged her bare skin with my right hand easing my fingers under the material of her bra cup seeking to get at her nipples. In no time I had Joyce squirming under my touch, her breathing became rapid and more exaggerated, as she responded to my actions.

My plan was beginning to gel, I wanted Joyce to want it so bad that she would ask for more, or at least be willing to satisfy my requests to get more. I was not however prepared to up the ante too much nor too soon, as I did not want Joyce to feel that she had no options. I was not there to force her, I wanted her to feel appreciated, truly wanted and desired. I merely wanted to create a situation where Joyce might do things that she would not otherwise consider in her interest. Providing her with a means to get the release that she desired was the idea behind the game I was going to ask her to play.

I continued to tease, rubbing my hands over her bare skin. I slipped her blouse off a shoulder and planted kisses there, around her neck, down towards the bulging heaving tops of her firm young mounds. I purposely stayed away from the clasp of her brassiere in my attempt to frustrate Joyce even more. I ran my hands down between our gyrating bodies, rubbing her tummy, poking at her little girl belly button, letting my fingers slip just ever so under the edge of her pants. I was enjoying myself immensely, I could have no doubt carried on like this for quite some time, Joyce however finally realized that I was not taking things further, and began calling out my name , telling me that she wanted more, telling me to take her to another level , telling me to undo her bra to release her boobies and suck on her nipples. Once she had cried out, I knew it was time to proceed.

I told her we were going to play a little game. If she wanted to continue, she would have to follow the requests that I would give her, the first being to take her blouse off and hang it with the old clothes on the opposite side of the enclosure. Then she would have to meet me in the next enclosure where we might or might not continue. If she did not what to participate, then she could button up her blouse, and we would go for a long walk down the country road, and behave ourselves.

Knowing Joyce of course, I did not worry too much about what she would want , nor what she would do, however there was always a chance that she would call my bluff and try and make me regret having provided an OUT option. There was only one time in our early relationship that Joyce had opted out. She had been on her period back then, and she was wearing a Kotex belt and pad. I am not certain if in the early years Tampons were readily available then. I know later on in our relationship that ever once in while there was that little string hanging down between her lovely thighs. The first time however she was more than embarrassed when I slipped my hands down her panties and came upon the elastic of the belt. As I learned more from Larry at my Air Cadet meetings, I was able to demonstrate to Joyce that her sensations were even greater during that period of time. Since I did not care if there was a bit of discoloured discharge, we managed to continue playing our games even though she was on the rag. I might get into one of those episodes at a later date, as I do not want to digress from the main story.

I broke our embrace, leaving Joyce to decide what she was going to do, and moved out of the first enclosure taking my time to settle comfortably in the next one. No sooner than I had set my back against the wall , Joyce appeared in her half state of dress, her perky tits vibrating as she moved into my open arms. I am not sure what she expected, perhaps thinking I was going to remove her brassiere, and proceed as she had asked. Joyce crushed herself into me forcing me hard up against the wall of the barn. She hunched her shoulders in such a manned as to allow the straps of her brassiere to side down on to her arms, no doubt in anticipation that my next step would be to unclasp the holster holding her young mounds.

This however was not the way I had conceived the plan, so as Joyce crushed her soft warm body into mine, I continued to massage her bare back, avoiding the material of her brassiere. I pressed my fingers firmly seeking to rub at each rib of her body, resulting in Joyce moaning and melting as I proceeded. I wanted her to forget about having her tits manipulated, and just enjoy my efforts to increase her sensibility. I offered up my mouth, my lips, my tongue seeking to create havoc with Joyce’s emotions, in my attempt to return to the same sexual high we had created in the first enclosure .

It did not take long, before I was able to effectively flick open the button of her pants, and gently ease the zipper down over her bottom. I was pleased that particular day Joyce had worn pants that closed in the back, it allowed me then to slip in and grab at her panty cover buns. I continued to press my fingers firmly into her body, but now I was able to proceed much lower on her body, moulding her ass cheeks as we gyrated our bodies.

I could tell Joyce was arriving at another stage in her emotional climb , however I did not really want her reaching her peak until I had decided the time and place. I broke off our kissing, and eased her body away from mine just enough so that she was able to feel the slacking of her pants. I then told her that if she wished to continue the game, she should take her pants off and hang them with the old harnesses that were on the back wall of the enclosure, then she could come and meet me in the last stall. However if she was uncertain , she had this last chance to cover her body, pick up her blouse and we would leave the barn , go walking and behave ourselves. With that said, I loosened my grip on her lovely young body and moved to the next stall to wait.

The last stall was much smaller, it was where they used to keep the bull, there was no window, and once inside the stall it would be hard to survey the surroundings to make sure we would be undisturbed . I did not have long to ponder the situation, as Joyce sauntered in dressed now only in her bra and panties, she was ready for more , seemingly tuned well into the game plan. I altered tactics immediately telling her she had another choice to make. She could decide which private body area she wanted me to stimulate, but must keep on one piece of underwear. I wanted to see just where we stood , if Joyce was willing to continue creating the excitement, or if she just wanted to get herself off quickly.

There was an old bucket outside the stall, perhaps 15 or 20 feet into the main barn, I told her to go out to the bucket and put which ever garment she wished into it then she could return to me and we would continue the game. Up until now our antics had pretty well been hidden along the corridor where there were few windows. In the main part of the barn however it was another story, as there were little windows all along the side of the barn. Enough light came through these openings to make the barn a pleasant place to work during the day. It was into this light that I sent Joyce dressed only in undergarments ( not much different than being in a two piece bathing suit ) . The fact remains that she was in an old barn, not near a beach nor a pool, and it was not a bathing suit. Had anyone, including either or both of my sisters come looking for us Joyce would be in a fine fix. To add intrigue to the situation, she was to doff one of the two pieces of clothing that covered her and walk back to the stall where I was waiting .

As I reminisce , I suppose that in consideration of what transpires today among our youth, this incident would be of no consequences, back then however we two 16 years olds were playing with fire. It was very exciting to watch as Joyce picked her way over to the bucket, being careful not to get tangled up in the cow holsters, or slip into the old manure track, and trying to avoid passing too close to any of the windows. My heart was pounding, sending hot blood down to my cock, as I waited to see whether she was going to divest herself of her brassiere or her cotton panties. I knew that she had made she right, or more correct decision when she reached back and unclasped her brassiere. I watched as she slipped the straps off her shoulders, pulled them down her long arms and finally slip the brassiere from her body. Joyce turned in my direction, exposing her lovely firm young tits to my view and carefully dropped the brassiere in the old bucket.

Once this was accomplished, I reluctantly moved to the back of the stall, missing out the pleasantness of watching Joyce wind her way through the barn almost naked . I am certain had I continued to watch, I would have blown my load, and that was not in the game plan at this moment. Joyce herself must have been very excited as the moment got close to me she grabbed at my hands and planted them firmly on her mammary glands.

It was time to build the sexual sensations once again, I took my time squeezing, her mounds, rubbing my palms over her areola, her nipples and back under them lifting the delicate tits up towards my mouth. I began planting hot wet kisses all over Joyce’s chest. I wanted to savour the moment, to use the time to get Joyce to shake and rattle, but not orgasm. I turned her to face away from me, directly in view of the opening of the stall. I pushed her legs a part with my feet and pulled her ass back on to the bulge that had formed in my pants. I wrapped my arms around her body , concentrating on rubbing her nipples, while I planted kisses all over her shoulders and neck. Had we been surprised by anyone they would have gotten and eye full for sure , Joyce half naked and spread like a French tart.

How long this went on is anybody’s guess , I had lost track of time, my only interest was making sure I did not allow Joyce to reach her pinnacle . I was concentrating on bringing her so close to the edge that she would be willing to do almost anything I suggested to ride over the top , to obtain the release she so desired. I was not a mean bastard by anyone’s standards, I was not going to make Joyce do anything dangerous or out of sorts with our values. I was not a pig , but 16 year old with a hot girl who loved to have the envelope pushed just a bit.

Joyce’s moaning and groaning became very vocalized , she was forcing her ass back into my bulge, at the same time holding on to my hands as they roamed over the front of her naked torso. Suddenly however she stopped, moved her hands down over her panties and between her legs, much to my surprise. Quickly I had to act and quickly I did, grabbing at both her hands, I spun her around and folded her arms behind her back. I told her that she was a naughty girl, going to orgasm like that standing half naked in an old bull stall.
This was certainly not the right timing, as the game was just getting interesting, I went on to state.

The expression on Joyce’s face was priceless, she was almost so far gone that her eyes had begun to glaze, yet the disappointment of not being allowed to follow through and cum was also evident in her facial features. As I told her we had not yet completed the game, holding her arms fast I guided her into what had been the operations room of the old barn. There was a lot of crap lying there amongst the gauges, knobs, handles and other what not, I had to be very careful directing ourselves so that we would fall over anything and get hurt.

The reason I was going through this part of the building, was that there was a back set of stairs, or better yet almost a ladder type of stair that led up into the hayloft, they were very steep and used mostly as an emergency exit or entrance to that location. Once we came to the bottom, having safely passed the obstacle course, I placed Joyce at the bottom rung. I told her what she wanted and what she desired would be found at the top of the stairs. She would be allowed to go first, with me following to make sure she did not slip or fall off the steps. There was , however a further command that she had to complete as she climbed .

I told Joyce that she had to take one step at a time, each time making sure she had both feet on the same rug before she took the next step up. Getting her to confirm that she understood my instructions, I followed up with , each time she had both feet on the same rung, she was to ease her cotton panties down just a bit. I continued to tell her that the panties could not slip down her legs completely until she had reached the very last rung and was ready to step into the loft. I figured this would be most enjoyable for me as I would be right behind her, watching ,waiting to see all her female treasures exposed bit by bit. I figured that she would have some difficulty keeping her panties from sliding right down once she had moved them to about knee level.

It was not as easy as one would think, Joyce had to concentrate, first of all she had to hold tightly on to the step rail, or risk falling. This left her the option of using one hand to ease the panties from around her body, or to change hands to complete the downward movement. Joyce had also to try and figure out just how much she should lower her panties as she stepped upon each rung. At the 6th or 7th rung her panties came to a stop at her knees. So far I had enjoyed watching, an every increasing expanse of hot female bottom come into view but I had not been shown too much of the valued treasure, which I knew of course Joyce had between her thighs. That was about to change.

Joyce hesitated, not moving up the next rung as quickly as she had done the others. She began fiddling with her panties, you could almost hear exasperated gasps as she thought things through. Once she had figured that the only way things were going to work, as she still had four or five rungs to climb, Joyce widened her stance on the steps, spreading her legs so that the cotton material of her panties held and did not slip completely down to her ankles before time.

This of course opened up her thighs, providing me with a wonderful view right up to her beautiful virgin cunt. Through the fine blond hairs covering her sex, I could see the lips separating, spreading as she moved one leg at a time up on to the next rung. I was certain I could see little droplets of liquid just hanging in those fine hairs, waiting to drop, not now into her cotton panties, but all the way down, down onto the floor of the old barn.

I moved up on the steps quickly, covering the distance I had allowed at the beginning . I put my face level with the bottom of her crack, I was certain that I smelt her scent, her cherry blossom scent, even if the smell of dried hay was the more poignant of the odours in the barn. I wanted just so bad to stick out my tongue and push forward into the crease between hers legs, but I realized that I had to keep control of my actions just a little longer. I was at that moment faced with a real dilemma.

Finally Joyce reached the top rung, lifted her leg to set herself on the floor of hay loft, and allowed her cotton panties to float down over her ankles, depriving her of all protection and modesty. I did nothing to stop their descent, I watched the white coloured material float down, down to the floor of the old operations room , out of our sight.
Joyce was now in her all together, open for anything I cared to try, it was impossible for her to cover up. I knew she realized this as soon as I planted my two feet on the old floor boards of the hay loft and stared at her exquisite nakedness.

I guess I was very naive at 16 , but it had never occurred to me just how hot it could get in a hayloft. When were we haying, I usually stayed on the wagon and loaded the bales of hay onto the elevator system. It was my cousin Henry who found himself in the hayloft placing the bales. While we usually both worked up a sweat, he always seemed to be much more drenched than I, which I always thought was because he was older than me. Standing there looking at my beautiful young creature I could see little beads of perspiration forming on her skin, creating a shinning like coating on her nakedness.

Unfortunately I had not planned things much further than my nose, as we usually rolled with what every track we were on. Baled hay is not quite like a pile of loose hay, it is made up of cuttings, is packaged firmly and tied with cord when it comes out of the baling machine. I had to think quick, telling Joyce to remain still while I fixed us a place. I moved around looking for the most comfortable spot I could, and then ( to the chagrin of my grandfather no doubt) busted up a couple of his precious bales trying to make a soft bed to lie in. Once I had things set I called Joyce over, always watching with intrigue the movements of this naked nymph . To be kind, and afford us a better bed so to speak I stripped down and had Joyce lay on my clothing.

I once again set about bringing her to her sexual peak, she had settled down a bit as she had waited for me to prepare the setting, so she had relaxed and allowed me to follow through. I began to lick the sweet sweat off her face, as I racked my fingers over her nakedness, caressing all her sensual spots, from the top of her cunt to the top of her ear lobes. I took my time, enjoying her body, enjoying the reaction I was causing. I was certainly in no rush, now that I had Joyce spread out on this bed of hay, far from the prying eyes of anyone.

It did not take long to get my girl going again, her return kisses became desperate, rapid, almost aggressive. Her body began vibrate almost to the point that I was having trouble rubbing the spots that I had been working on. Each time I raked my fingers over her nipples, I thought I felt them expand their already elongated form, they were as hard as I had felt them in a long time. Joyce sought out my hand trying to push it towards that very special place between her thighs.

It was time then to advance in my game plan, I asked her if she wanted more, I asked her if once again she was willing to obey . I held my hand firm countering any effort she was making to pull it toward the center of her universe. I told her to spread her legs wide, and place her arms at her side which she did immediately without question. I disengaged my body , sat back on my hunches and inspected her virgin cunt. I reached over and tenderly rubbed my finger on the folds of her glistening pussy lips. Joyce bucked up into the palm of my hand at the same time reaching out to hold it there and apply pressure to ensure contact.

Not wanting her to digress from what I intended to do, I stopped rubbing , pulled my hand away and slapped sharply at her two hands, telling her that she had to keep her arms at the side of her body, if she wanted me to continue, or I would stop and we would leave the hayloft. That did the trick, however she began pleading with me to not let her wait any longer, she needed to cum, she could not wait much longer, she was just so horny and ready for anything.

Those words were just what I wanted to hear, ready for anything. I stood up, moved to the bottom of her feet, bent and lifted both of them high in the air, keeping them spread in a V like form. Joyce was now opened up like never before in our relationship. I looked down into the pink folds of her girlish innards, I could see her love juices just sitting there ready to leak out, or be sucked out which I was planning to do . I watched as her little knob vibrated or at least pulsated in anticipation of my next move.

I told Joyce that she should take hold of her ankles and pull them as close to her head as possible, keeping her legs spread wide. I then dropped down on my knees and placed my tongue just at the edge of her open hole and flicked at the liquid that was being held in the pool. Joyce howled at the contact and dropped her legs onto my shoulders, crushing my head in her thighs as she bucked her sex into my face.

I retracted my tongue, eased her legs off my shoulders and sat back once again. Joyce was now whimpering, telling me all kinds of things to get me to continue, I do believe she promised me the moon at that time, I know she went on and on about ready to do anything I wanted, any time I wanted, anywhere I wanted, if I would just continue.

Mind you I was not going to pass up an opportunity like this in any case, whether or not Joyce told me she was ready to do anything if I continued. I told her to grab hold of her ankles, and pull them back towards her head, keeping the spread as wide as she could.
In completing this movement, Joyce effectively opened up her pink virgin cunt exposing her now pulsating clit to my attention. What she did not realize was that she also brought her little bung hole straight up towards my descending mouth. Joyce, I am certain was holding herself, expecting me to lick at her sweet innards as I could see her love juices had formed a pool between the folds of her engorged pussy lips. I wasted little time, bracing myself for the downward collision of her legs, I slipped my wilily tongue passed her crinkled rim as deep as I could into her little brown chute.

It was a good thing that I had prepared myself for the downwards cascading of Joyce’s muscular legs, for that is exactly what happened. Joyce bucked so violently that she almost caused us to roll out of our bed of hay and down the inclined bales to the bottom of the barn. She squirted those pooled love juices with such force that she thoroughly soaked the hair on top of my head. Her cherry blossom scent mushroomed up from inside her womanly parts, expanding out to mingle with the aroma of dried sweet grass, creating a heavenly mixture.

I however was far from finished with this lovely naked creature spread out so wantonly in front of me. I once again pushed her legs apart setting my shoulders between her soft thighs and sunk my mouth down upon her virgin cunt hole. As I lapped at the remaining juices leaking from Joyce’s love hole, I flicked my tongue rapidly at her now quivering clit. Joyce was almost having convulsions , her body rocked and bucked so quickly that I had trouble holding my mouth in place . I forged ahead, lapping at all that was leaking, sucking it into my system as fast as I could. Keeping or at least trying to keep a constant rhythm rubbing at her clit, I sought at the same time to ease one of my fingers into her ass hole to apply pressure at this sensitive point once more.

It did not take long, before Joyce began crying out, only this time she was asking me to stop as she could not take any more. Not that I did not heed her request, but I continued for a few minutes taking satisfaction knowing that I was actually draining Joyce of her magic love fluids. When I detached my mouth, Joyce went completely limp, letting her limbs fall like a rag doll, her legs spayed wide open. Had I known then what I know today, I would have taken complete and utter advantage of her and fucked the living day lights out her right then and there. We had agreed that we would not risk the chance of getting her pregnant , neither of us were prepared for that kind of monkey business, so I fortified my steel and backed away from her body.

I did however pull my pod until I shot my spunk all over her beautiful sweaty body . I then knelt down beside her sweet sweating body and cuddled until I fell asleep . How long we remained in our particular stupor, I do not know, but we were rudely awaked, startled would be more like it , by the sound of the main door of the barn rattling open followed by the voices of several men .

I would have been hilarious to have watched us, two naked bodies in panic mode, trying to move far out of any line of sight, realizing that being caught was not an option. I managed to grab my clothes, pulling on my shorts and pants at the same time while handing Joyce my shirt to afford her a bit of covering. We then slithered like the snakes we were through the bales of hay, making our way back to the barn steps that had led us there. It was difficult to not cry out each time we came into contact with a sharp edge of a piece of dried straw, the bare parts of our bodies bore testimony that we had paid a price for the moments of ecstasy that were had just experienced.

Once we had gotten far enough back behind the higher walls of baled hay, we stopped to gather our breath , not wanting to be negligent when going down those steep stairs into the dark bottom of the barn itself. My main concern was getting us someplace safe , away from any chance of prying eyes seeing us in our half state of dress. Heck I never even gave a thought to Joyce’s bare bottom following me down the steps . All I would have had to do was stop and hold my face up my mouth open and I would have managed to connect to her sweet sex as she came down from above. We began giggling as we made contact with the cement floor of the barn, we were perhaps more nervous than much else, and this was how we came about releasing the bent up excitement.

As we held onto one another, it came to mind that this was not quite how I had wanted things to terminate. I had planned to have a naked Joyce walk around the main barn colleting her clothes She was however half covered by my shirt, and we knew that there were people moving in and around the barn. I did not want things to get out of hand so I relented and allowed her to go pick up her clothes, not putting them on but bringing one piece back to me at a time. I was still making things daring but hedging my bet so as to speak.

The sun had changed position from the time that we had entered the barn and the operations room was now completely with out any direct light. We began searching for Joyce’s panties but could not find them at all, so I sent her to retrieve her other articles of clothing while I continued to reach around feeling for her panties ( not very hard mind you, as I thought it would be more fun if we could not find them).

Once dressed in true and proper form we made our exit out the back door of the barn , headed for the next field which was tall with something or other ( it provided more cover to us) and from there we moved back and up on to the main road. We had now regained control of our senses and managed to walk normally , holding hands and swing our arms in unison.

We stopped back at the barn , where there was now a large trailer truck, my father , my uncle , my grandfather, his cousins ( the ones who cut and baled the hay) and a few others who I presumed to be the truck driver and helpers. They were taking 300 bales out of the barn, which would be perhaps two hours work. They asked me to lend a hand, so I asked Joyce if she would like to head off to the house , perhaps meet up with my sisters or sit and wait till we finished loading. Joyce sat herself down on the edge of the roadway but may have not stayed long for when we were finished with the hay , she was no longer there.

anonymous readerReport

2012-03-01 13:33:25
James, the thing you are not giettng is the difference in the reasons behind men's violence against men, and men's violence against women.Men fighting for dominance with other men is *not* the same, either in meaning, motivation, or effect, as men trying to dominate or harm women. And this is quite aside from the size/strength discrepancy. Somehow I don't think assaults of this nature *do* happen to men (assuming no racist or homophobic dimension). It may be a stranger, but between males there is usually a verbal engagement that precipitates the violence. Spilling a pint, you-lookin-at-me, etc etc. I don't see what happened here as anywhere near that scenario.This is not a competition about which violence is worse, or more frequent; But this is *not* the same as violence between males. And yes, it is a feminist issue, by virtue of a man attacking a woman with no warning, and by virtue of the cultural context of men's violence against women being sexualised and served up as arous

anonymous readerReport

2012-02-13 10:39:40
52. "The road will be overcome by that person, who goes." I wish you never stopped and be creative - forever..!!

anonymous readerReport

2012-02-13 10:17:15
Interesting, but still I would like to know more about it. Liked the article:DD

anonymous readerReport

2012-02-13 09:54:28
Thank you very much! I took it for myself too. Will be useful!!....

anonymous readerReport

2012-02-13 09:32:49
Internet is written with the capital letter in a sentence, by the way. And hundredths are written not with a point but with a comma. This is according to the standard. And actually everything is very good..!!

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