Climate Change

If you hate cheaters and apparent non-consent isn't your thing, you might want to pass on this one. Sorry.

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The title may be a little misleading. there is a good bit having to do with environmentalism in this story but the climate change has more to do with my outlook on life and endeavors. It kind of reminds me of the 1919 release song written by Walter Donaldson entitled "How Ya Gonna Keep 'em Down on the Farm (After They've Seen Paree?)"

Since I'm 41 years old, you're probably wondering why I even know about a song not popular since the end of World War I. The reason is that my maternal grandmother lived with my family for several years when I was very young and she loved that type of music, even though it came out before she was born, and played in on our record player at least once a day as far as I recall.

If you're the judgmental type when you finish this story you'll probably think that I'm a piece of shit who deserves to have his pubic hairs pulled out one by one as an ant colony roams over his face and chest. I'm OK with that; but a bit of empathy too, please.

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I, Jeff Masterson, wasn't born and raised on a farm, but close to it. I grew up in a small town in a farming community. My father was the town's banker, and most of his customers, and folks living within a fifty mile radius, were farmers. I worked on a farm during the summers from when I was 14 – 18, and sometimes a little bit during the school year too; I was naturally big and farm work made me strong. Most of my friends were farmers' kids. The Reverend of the only church in town, which almost everyone belonged to, was a fire and brimstone type of guy that the parents went along with, so we had "Good Christian Values" drummed into us. There was no porn, and there were no teenage pregnancies.

I was a natural environmentalist, and wanted to become an environmental scientist or engineer one day, and read everything I could about it. I did very well in community college and got a scholarship to the state flagship school, but I decided to start my own business dealing with plants since I had a real green thumb.

One reason that I wanted to start work right away was because I fell in love my first year of community college and before I graduated married the former Mabel Wexton. Mabel was a pretty farm girl, big and strong with little fat. She grew up in a community almost identical to mine, one with the same conservative "Christian values."

Mabel and I moved to a small city (population about 35,000) in the same Midwestern state we grew up in. There were two other small cities in the same county. I started a landscaping business, added a nursery business, and an arborist business by the time that I was 41 – which was my age at the start of this tale. Mabel and I had two kids, a boy and a girl, nine and eleven as this story starts.

I had a good life with Mabel. I considered the sex good – but looking back on it, however, I came to realize that it was as vanilla as could be. Mabel's conservative values meant we did little more than missionary, and my conservative values led me not to push it, even if I knew what to push it to.

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Because of my green thumb, good business sense, and kindness to almost everyone I came into contact with, my landscaping-nursery-arborist business was extremely successful. I had a full time staff of 45 and 7 part timers (the part-timers were mostly housewives or college students). I felt the need to give back so in addition to giving money and expertise to the local garden clubs and like organizations when I was approached by the principal of the local High School – who was a client of mine – about participating in an Environmental Club at the High School I was receptive.

It turned out to actually be more than an after-school club that met once a week. It included teaching a class session twice a week, for which the kids got credit, in addition to providing information and guidance to the members of the Club, all of who were also in the class. I knew that teaching was hard, but since I was the big boss at work and had lots of capable employees, and had intimate knowledge of the subject, I was anxious to give it a try.

I was also told that there would be another person who would be co-teacher and counselor, a 31 year old woman by the name of Jezebel Peters.

Well, Jezebel wasn't really her first name – it was Kelley – but it should have been.

Since our city was small and because of my business I knew lots of people I had met Kelley several times, although I think that the sum total of our conversations was less than fifteen minutes. Many people that I knew well also knew Kelley. She was variously described by my acquaintances as a firecracker, volcano, and cyclone. Adjectives used to describe her were intense, volatile, energetic, and plasma hot.

Kelley aka Jezebel was also a young mother who worked as a fitness trainer out of her house. She had four year old twin boys that were in nursery school that she seemed completely devoted to. Her husband worked in some form of finance and they appeared to be wealthy by our city's standards. Kelley seemed to be very proud of her six pack and hard glutes.

Don't get me wrong, I strive for a six pack and hard glutes myself and almost have them, although my chest and biceps are more developed from all the work I did on the farm and weight training since then. I certainly appreciated Kelley's glutes and the rest of her trim body, but I think other things about a person are more important than appearance, and being known as a conservative straight arrow no one would ascribe the names or adjectives that my acquaintances used for Kelley to me.

Kelley was also a hard core feminist who thought that most males, aside from her husband, boys, and the principal, were chauvinists and pigs, probably including me from the fifteen minutes of conversation that I had with her. Based upon my short conversations and what her general reputation was, I saw Kelley as a godless rabble rouser who probably got through college solely on her parents' dime primarily enjoying sit-ins, demonstrations, and parties.

Anyway, once Kelley and I were paired to teach the Environmental Classes and oversee the Environmental Club we were like oil and water. She wanted to emphasize pollution and environmental policy in the curriculum, and I wanted to emphasize the natural environment and renewable energy. She didn't understand or appreciate biology and practical science; I didn't understand or appreciation politics or information science.

We somehow made it work for about two months, and at least the sixteen kids in the classroom and fourteen in the Club were learning and enthusiastic and gave very positive feedback to the principal (which he shared with us). However, it was also clear that the students were amused by the repartee between Kelley and me, which seemed to get more snarky as time went on.

Things came to a head one Friday when during the after-school Club meeting when Kelley was in a pissy mood because her husband had taken the twins to visit his parents for the weekend, and she didn't get along with her in-laws (surprise, surprise!). Virtually everything that I said she had some snarky comment about and I was flustered and frustrated. After the kids left the classroom I lit into her.

"Why were you such a bitch today? You had some snide comment every time I said something. Do you have to constantly be obnoxious?" I snarled.

"I can't help it that just because you're a big time businessman that everyone has to co-tow to you. When you say something incredibly stupid, I'm going to comment on it so either get smarter or shut the fuck up," she retorted.

The "discussion" deteriorated from there. Many nasty things were said and many obscene gestures were made. I rarely lose my temper, and would never hit a woman, but if she had been a man I would have already knocked all of her teeth out before she came up with the coup de grace.

Kelley aka Jezebel was standing face-to-face with me (as much as someone five feet two inches 110 pounds can to someone who's six foot three inches 230 pounds) when she pushed her index finger into my chest three or four times snarling "You don't intimidate me you big ape because we both know that you're a dickless wimp and aside from building a house you could never have an erection in your worthless shit life."

To this day I don't know what came over me. There's a trashy TV show called "Snapped" on Oxygen TV where they feature episodes of people who suddenly and spontaneously do out-of-character things (usually murder). I guess that at that point I would have been eligible to be featured on an episode because all I can figure out is that I "Snapped!"

Before I knew it, without any conscious memory of how it happened, Jezebel was bent over a desk with her shorts and panties around her ankles and calling me a perverted rapist while I was poking at her leaking pussy with my cock as angry as I had ever seen it. It took a good minute of wiggling back-and-forth to penetrate her completely she was so tight (I guess she that delivered her kids caesarian) and then I started banging as hard as I ever had in my life.

Jezebel stopped yelling "pervert" and instead started moaning. After the first dozen or so strokes into her snug sex organ she shuddered and let out a series of high pitched yelps. After another couple of dozen strokes after her yelps subsided I had the most overwhelming need to cum than I have ever experienced. I flooded her cunt with so much jism that it seemed that it would never stop squirting out of my cock. Once I started ejaculating in her pussy it clamped down on my cock like a vice and she spasmed so violently that I thought she might be having a seizure.

It was a good five minutes after my last discharge into her pussy, during the entire time of which my mind was flooded with endorphins and I had no rational thought, before my cock went flaccid enough to pop out of her pussy. I backed up, literally collapsed into a chair still facing her bare ass, and closed my eyes.

When I opened my eyes I saw the results of having snapped. Her thighs were slightly bruised, her cunt was a gaping hole, and a white substance was oozing out of it. Since I was not in my rational mind the disjointed thoughts – at least those that I can remember – that went fleeting through my brain were "best sex ever," "what a gorgeous pussy," "did I deposit all of that white stuff in her," "did she rip my dick off," and "what the fuck just happened."

Just as I was finally starting to meander back to reality she pushed her torso off of the desk. Her hair was a mess and sweat had soaked her shirt and was still dripping off of her forehead. It was then that I noticed that my shirt was soaked with sweat too, and that my pants and boxers were around my ankles.

The first thing that Kelley said didn't surprise me. "You fucking rapist pig!"

The first thing that she actually did didn't just surprise me – it stunned me. She got down on her knees on the tile floor in front of me, grabbed my half-hard still deflating cock, and stuck in her mouth with one hand while massaging my balls with the other.

After she had completely cleaned off my cock and it was starting to harden again she said "Glad to see that you aren't really dickless; but you should keep that snake in your pants. You can really do some damage with that weapon."

Then she got up off her knees, kicked her shorts off of her ankles and pulled off her panties. She wiped the cum off of her crotch and thighs with her panties and then tossed them to me, put on her shorts, got a hand mirror out of her purse and fixed up her hair and wiped the sweat off of her face with a hankie, picked up her course materials, and walked toward the door. She hadn't said another word. She did turn and look at me just before she exited. The look on her face was hard to read; it was somewhere between a diabolical smile, a disgusted snarl, and a snide smirk.

I sat for at least another ten minutes with her cum-soaked panties in one hand, my boxers and pants still around my ankles, and my cock spontaneously periodically twitching. I was more confused than a fart in a fan factory. I finally stood up, pulled up my underwear and pants, placed the panties in a pocket, splashed water from the in-classroom sink on my face, dried my face with a paper towel, collected my teaching materials, and walked to my pickup truck.

To say that I was a zombie the rest of the evening would be the understatement of the year. Mabel asked me a half dozen times what planet my mind was visiting, and my kids both laughed and said something like "You're spaced-out, Dad."

I took a hot shower before bedtime and washed off every trace of Kelley. Of course it wasn't possible to wash her out of my mind, and even though Mabel came to bed with a flannel full-length nightgown on, since my cock was again rock hard thinking of what had happened that afternoon, Mabel didn't have a chance if she thought that she could avoid intercourse.

Mabel did protest somewhat, but when I lifted up her nightgown and fingered her pussy while tit-sucking, she started squirming. My cock was like a heat-seeking missile when it sought out her pussy, and was pleased that it could be buried in one push she was so moist. Halfway through fucking her I lifted one of her legs, flipped it over my head, and without my cock leaving her cunt had her on her hands and knees. Doggy wasn't in our normal repertoire since until that afternoon we both considered it too vulgar.

Since I had just had had the best sexual experience of my life doing doggy that afternoon I no longer felt that way. I didn't know how Mabel would view it in the future, but she didn't have any complaints then. It may have been our best, and most animalistic, fuck ever. But as I lay next to her after withdrawing my depleted cock from her pussy and she put her head on my shoulder all I could think of was my grandmother's favorite old song: "How Ya Gonna Keep 'em Down on the Farm (After They've Seen Paree?)" because as great as the fuck with Mabel had just been it wasn't in the same ballpark as my ravage of Kelley/Jezebel.

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Saturday I tried not to think of my encounter with Kelley and did normal things with the kids on Saturday morning including soccer and softball games, took the whole family for lunch, finished a few projects that Mabel wanted me to do that worked up a sweat, and then showered. In the shower I thought of Kelley's panties still in the front pocket of the pants I wore the day before, which were on the floor of my closet. It wouldn't do to have Mabel find them so I fished the panties out and put them in the front pocket of my jeans – after sniffing them.

I felt like a perverted cheating automaton as I told Mabel I was going to one of my business locations for a short time while also promising to be back by 6:30 to go to dinner with another family, got in my pickup truck, and then mindlessly drove toward Kelley's house. I knew where she lived from the address information on the school forms. I had no idea why I was driving over there.

When I pulled up in front of Kelley's house – remembering that her husband and kids were still out of town – I saw her in front with Daisy Dukes and a halter top on, working in a flower bed. I walked up to her without startling her. She looked up at me and I swear that she had a devilish smile before she turned away. When she said "What do you want, perv?" I knew that it was her and not a cyborg look-alike.

"I came to return something of yours," I said in a monotone, pulling her panties out of my pocket and shaking them at her.

She looked up, looked back and said "Put those away; do you want my neighbors to think that I'm a slut?"

"Are you?" I asked.

"You fucking rape me and then ask me that?" she snarled as she stood up. "Give them to me in the house and then get your ass out of here," she again snarled.

I walked with her into her house. In her living room she turned and faced me, snapped the panties out of my hand, and threw them on the floor. "Where do you get off raping me?" she blustered.

I suddenly got chagrinned and for the first time thought that she might report me to law enforcement. "Look...I...I...just snapped. Some of the things that you said just turned my mind to mush and I did something that I'd never do in a million years."

"Don't give me that. I could tell that you're the type that thinks just because you have a girthy orgasm-inducing cock that you can take any woman that you want. You know my pussy is still sore from that weapon pounding it. You probably think that because you gave me a couple of over-the-top orgasms that you can just fuck me anytime you want to," she replied, first with her hands on her hips and then doing that poking her finger in my chest.

"It didn't work out so well for you poking your finger in my chest yesterday, did it Jezebel; it got you fucked," I responded.

"You don't have the guts to try it again; even with a big dick you're still a wimp," she snarled, poking me again.

This time I didn't snap; however, the result was the same. Since I had no desk to turn her over I grabbed both of her hands in mine, led her toward the couch while she was kicking me and calling me a bastard, and once I got her to her couch pushed her onto her hands and knees and ripped off her already trashy Daisy Dukes – no panties underneath.

This time she pleaded with me. "Please don't fuck me on this couch; I'll never get the stains out and I can't explain it to my husband. I promise to try to escape if you bring me to the guestroom."

"Where's that?" I snarled as I picked her up in my arms.

"Down the hall on the right; last door on the left.

As I carried her there I stuck a finger in her pussy. At first it was by accident but when she groaned in pleasure I stuck it in in earnest. When I bounced her on her guest room bed she complained "If you're going to rape me again with that monster cock the least you can do is to eat me first!"

Her legs were naturally spread, her pussy was glistening, and her left tit was peeking out of her halter top. I had never eaten pussy before; but I overheard a couple of my part time college kid employees talking about it one day and how great it was so I thought "Why not," especially since I was reluctant to bring pussy eating up with Mabel lest she think that I was the pervert I apparently had become.

I didn't know exactly what to do, but I do know what a clit is and that most women like to have their nipples tweaked, so I got to work.

After finding and sucking on Kelley's clit for a while I started tweaking the exposed nipple, then while keeping my tongue on her clit removed her top completely – no bra. I had to admit that in addition to a nice ass and stomach she had a really nice set of honkers, even if a little small, and a delicious sensitive pussy. She came like a freight train after about five minutes of clit massaging, finger penetration, and nipple teasing.

Just before her orgasm subsided I hopped out of bed and quickly got naked. I swear that Kelley unconsciously licked her lips when she saw my cock as angry as it had been the day before. After I completely buried my cock in her cozy cunt Kelley, with surprising strength – and without resistance on my part – rolled me on my back and got on top without my cock ever leaving her pussy.

Kelley proceeded to act like a rodeo champ as she rode my cock while squeezing her pc muscles attempting to milk my cock at the same time that she rode it. She pinched my nipples, and I massaged her mammaries, as she bounced up and down. She got a faraway look on her face and then screamed, obviously climaxing. Seconds after her scream I injected her with a full load of cum, and she collapsed on my chest.