You enter the kitchen and see me bent over looking for something in the frig. My skirt has ridden up revealing lots of bare leg and you can almost see...my bottom. You whistle and say something cocky and then get frisky with your hands. I am startled but laughingly push you away. Then I eyeball you and ask for my panties back. You smile and pin me against the counter. Your mouth lands on mine and you kiss me passionately as your hands begin to wander pushing up my skirt. Your mouth leaves mine. It was the flame that had teased her since last night. Its warmth and early light fought the darkness and torment. The base of her spine caught the flame, like a candle, and warm tendrils seeped up, soothing some of the hurt. Flicks of heat intertwined her nipple’s sharp pangs. They wound around sharp lances and combined with them, resulting in a new feeling. Neither pleasure or pain, the candle’s flame danced slowly in sync with the rhythm of her son’s long cock. She heard herself breathing. The tractors had their oil changed and got greased up. I checked the fuel-line water traps and emptied them. They started fine so I didn't worry about the plugs. We had one mid-sized and two smaller tractors, four short hay wagons and two planting/harvesting carts. The three-foot pig-wire frames to support the tomato hills were ready, all lined in black visqueen with open bottoms.I started my way around the neighbors, harvesting their manure piles for a hundred bucks a piece, those that would. We were both caught up in a frenzy of motion that would soon culminate in his first, non self-inflicted, orgasm. Although I did not cum, it was my first male introduction to the thrills my pussy held for me. As we kept up our exploration it was not long before his moans started. I felt his cock begin to pulse. A warm fluid flowed out, filling his underwear and soaking my hand. We both came down from the fervid highs we had been riding and removed our hands, his moist with my clear juice, mine.
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