Shady Oak

The heat! The built up passion! I could not get enough of her! I needed to push my iron-hard flesh into her warmth, in so deep that she would press against the spot where the sperm began its ascent. I needed to bury my cock deep inside her! Her hand guided my rigid tool into her slit, the wet slippery warmth against the head made my body tremble as I slowly pushed in until I could feel her warm butt pressed against my balls.

Closing my eyes, I started to pump. The heels of her feet dug into the seat as her back began to arch. I could feel the familiar spasms rising from deep inside her as another orgasm overwhelmed her. Focused and centered, my entire mind thought of nothing except the sensations of her flesh against mine.

Peppery hot, sensuous pressure bulldozing against my straining erection fueled my senses as my cock dug for a place to shoot its jism. Gritting my teeth, I felt the glide of hot cum rising as I forgot to take a breath, my back arched, my legs shook, my balls clenched, and my head jerked back!

Then release! I shot deep inside her, my muscles rippled and quaked! Then I shot again, my body trembled and shook! Holding her hands over her head, I leaned forward and devoured her mouth, kissing her hard, while my body rode the whirlwind!

Falling back, my chest heaved while drops of perspiration fell from my brow. I rolled onto my side pressing my back against the seat, my erection withering inside her, I drew her close, fondling her breast and wrapped my legs around her.

Still embracing, catching our breath, Jean started to laugh. She pointed at the steamed up windows.

"See, nobody caught us!" She smirked, kissing the tip of my nose.

"God, you're beautiful!" I whispered.

* * * * *

The next morning I awoke to the smell of bacon frying. Jean was wearing one of my grandmother's bib aprons and nothing else. I leaned up against her, reaching under the apron and cupped her breasts as I peeked over her shoulder while she turned each splattering slice in the skillet.

"Morning beautiful!" I kissed her neck.

"Morning handsome!"

"Any plans this morning?" I asked.

"Nothing that can't be changed, whatdaya have in mind?" she turned and kissed me pressing her warm body intimately against mine.

"I was thinking we might take Thunder and Storm out for a ride. They need the exercise. You do ride don't you?"

"Didn't you ask me that last night? I thought I rode pretty well in that over sized bed of yours!" She smirked.

"Yeah you did!"

I pulled her close, turned off the gas to the stove, and we made love right there on the kitchen floor.

We showered then she asked as she toweled off, "Do you have any jeans I can use, all I have is my dress?"

"Nope!" I laughingly said.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope!"

"Then what am I going to wear?"

"Nada! Zilch! Nothing! We're headed out into God's country...Naked!"

"You're kidding, right?" She was laughing hysterically by this point.

"Nope!" I tried to keep a straight face and tried to keep my hands off her but we ended up making love with her back pressed against the bathroom walls then we moved back into the bedroom.

When I finally got to the barn, it was past noon and the day was half over. I threw some old Indian saddle blankets over the horse's backs and warmed their bits in my hands before slipping them into their mouths. Both mares were as gentle as puppies. I reached for their reins, steered both of them out of the barn, and guided them over to where Jean stood buck naked under the old oak tree.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Jean laughed as she sat naked on Thunder's back.

"Why not? I own sixteen fenced in acres of the finest land God ever put on this earth, whose going to see us?" And I thought to myself, "Let the adrenaline flow!"

We rode across the prairie stark naked on the strong backs of Thunder and Storm, they seemed glad to be out of the corral. The Walnut River flowed through the property and that was where we decided to stop and let the horses rest. I swiped their blankets and spread them out on the ground under the guise of some walnut trees. Jean lay down beside me and soon had my cock in her mouth, sucking it until it became rigid. Then she mounted and rode me, as she had rode Thunder, her butt moving up and down in gentle bouncing strides. I grabbed her hair and pulled her face down to mine, pressing my mouth against hers, then rolled her over and began to pound into her until she cried out. Her voice echoed through the timber and drowned out the gurgling sounds of the river.

We walked back, leading the horses by their reins. The sun had started to set by the time we reached the barn. I tossed a curry brush to Jean, she watched as I swept in circular motions across Storms back. I used a hard brush to brush off the dirt and extra hair and a soft brush to sooth the coat. Jean followed my lead. Thunder always loved the grooming, but Storm would always roll after I was done. We fed them then let them loose in the corral.

The next day we took a break, we only made love four times, when we got up, when we ate, when we were in the shower, and when we went to bed. Jean never left the farm. She gathered some of her belongings and we checked on her house now and then. I made room for her clothes in one of Gramp's old bureaus. We spent many long nights on the front porch in those two chairs, holding hands and dreaming about our future.

We were married the following spring, surrounded by friends. We said our vows under the arch of that old oak tree. Jean sold her house and we used some of the equity to add central air and heat to the old house. The wood stove still sits where it always did, but now we just dust it off occasionally and rotate the knick-knacks. Jean missed her pool so I had a contractor come in and dredge out an old pond that had dried up on the property. We spent many nights skinny-dipping under the stars. The years passed, and we filled the bedrooms with children of our own. The tree stood strong, bearing tons of acorns each year Jean gave birth. When we fought, the tree looked weary, lifeless. Its long leafless branches sagged as though it sobbed with us.

We christened the sleigh on a hot August night under a full moon after we had pulled it out of the barn and spent most of that day rubbing its warm wood down with oils.

Jean never pricked her finger but I definitely would have awoken her with my tongue between her thighs if she had fallen asleep, just like I had done many mornings in our bed.

Each time the sex started to wan in our marriage, Jean would curl up in bed or on the sofa engrossed in one book or another. I would watch what she read, buy my own copy and sit under the oak tree, "researching," while she was at work, out with her friends, or chauffeuring the kids from point to point. I had notched out a small pocket inside the hollow of the tree, just large enough so that I could slip my paperback into it and far enough inside that Jean would never see it.

I used those books many times and each time our conversations were about the same.

"You want me to do what? You're kidding, right?"

"Nope!"

She would stand in front of me covered with goose bumps and I would think to myself "Let the adrenaline flow!"

I nudged my hips up against Jeans butt a couple of weeks ago while she was washing dishes. Tiny bumps trailed down her arms and her cheerful response was the same as it had always been, "Would you stop!" I just grinned as I patted her rear-end then looked out the kitchen window and saw my oldest grandson sitting under the oak tree with a book in his hand. I winked at Jean, "Now, what do you suppose he's studying?"