Fall of '69 Ch. 09

As I started the engine, Becky remained on the blanket, propped on an elbow, smiling at me.

The corn field was relatively small in dimension. To plow a row took approximately 15 minutes, round trip. I concentrated on keeping the furrows straight, my eyes remained fixed on the ground directly in front. Halfway through my return trip, I glanced up to see if Becky was still there. The picnic basket remained, but the blanket was gone. Struggling to continue in a straight line, I scanned the hedgerow and spotted the blanket spread on the ground -- partially hidden between a pile of field stones, a tree, and a thicket of brush.

A few seconds later, Becky stepped out from behind the tree, naked, and lay down on her stomach -- ivory perfection shining bright in a patch of sun.

My heart jumped, as I protectively looked around. Not another soul in sight. What was she thinking? Did she usually sunbath like this at home, or was this a tease? My furrow suffered because of her, and so did my dick.

Becky never lifted her head or gave any indication that I or anyone else existed.

At the end of the row, I turned around and headed back -- the plow pushing into the ground, folding the earth open like a hard cock opens a ready pussy. My mind reeled with salacious images.

Impatient for the return trip, I glanced back repeatedly, no longer concerned about the integrity of my line. After all, this really wasn't my job. I was only here for Becky, and Becky had to be my main focus. She was the center of my universe, my hearts desire, the Cher to my sunny boner.

Halfway back, Becky gave me a sign, an unmistakable signal that what she really wanted was a completion of our morning's romp. What else could I think when she rose up on her knees -- head down, ass up -- and began to finger her pussy. It had to be an invitation, a plea for pleasure, a cry for satisfaction.

The last 20 yards took forever, but I finished the row and turned off the tractor.

As I approached, Becky fingers moved faster, her moans became louder, but she never acknowledged me, never looked at me, or spoke to me. This was a new twist, a new game, one I wanted to play, too.

I knelt behind her and massage her sweet cheeks. When my hand slipped down to join hers, she relinquished control. Her hips pushed back, as I slipped two fingers in. My free hand reached underneath to fondle her swaying breasts.

Seconds later, she crumpled under an orgasm that took her strength and left her a shuddering mass.

While she recovered, I stripped the clothes off my sweaty skin and, with the sun's rays hot on my back, I covered her, kissing her neck and working down.

We still hadn't spoken a word, none needed.

Pushing her legs apart, I lifted her hips, and Becky obliged, pulling her knees up underneath.

With one slow stroke, I entered heaven. Both of us moaning as one flesh. Soon, we were rutting like wild dogs. She the bitch, me the alpha male. Our smacking, damp flesh echoing our heat.

Maybe she couldn't say she loved me because I might be dead by summer, but right now this was the best life had to offer. If I was lucky, I'd leave behind some of me to carry on with her, to love her. Maybe that's what we both wanted. When I came inside her, I knew that's what I wanted.