Country Boy (Thank God I'm a)

"Ten days of traveling have just passed... I kept thinking there was a fire burning softly, dinner was on the fire, but the most important thing for me is the light of your eyes that warms me even under the wildest storm... Hey, it's good to be home again, sometimes this old farm feels like a long-lost friend. You're not here today, Daisy, and that's a shame: it's the sweetest thing I know, spending time with you, it's the little things that make a house a home... Yeah, and then it's good to be home again! There's all the news to tell, how have you been spending your time? What's the last thing the neighbors say...'.

Just then, the wardrobe doors open and inside the wardrobe, he sees Daisy, all smiles and exultant.

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Chapter 4 Love Again: Two Bare Feet Hillibillies

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From the wardrobe comes Daisy.

Edgar does not understand.

"Daisy! How did you get back from the Springfield fair? And how did you get back into the house without going through the main door?"

"Silly. I wanted to check if you'd cheated me by making love to that ugly city spinster."

"Oh, Daisy..."

"Don't talk, hubby. Do you want to know the latest thing the neighbors say? Well, they say something important (for once). And I have something to announce to you. In the ten days that you were away, Marianne, the wandering doctor who delivers babies, came by. She brings a lot of luck because she has six daughters!"

"That Osteoporotic doctor?"

"No, that one. The OB... O and Bee, and something... She examined me and confirmed what the old women in the village had said: I am pregnant!"

"Oh, Daisy that's great! Yes... and hey! it's good to be back home again! Yay! We must celebrate!"

"What I don't understand is why the graduate doctor didn't know the sex of the baby. All the old women told me it's a boy, you can tell right away..."

"Oh, wifey! Hug me! No, wait... If you hug me do we risk hurting the newborn?"

"But don't talk nonsense, you donkey! A pregnant woman is even stronger than a normal woman, and can make love even more often!"

"Oh, honey... can I kiss you down there?"

Daisy had already removed her tattered skirt and offered her pussy, framed by a small tuft of natural blond hair.

"Oh, now here we go! That city spinster with the pussy all bald, she made a strange impression on me..."

"Would you have wanted to lick her?" Daisy's voice was genuinely concerned. Without hesitation, she said, "I can shave my tuft if you want..."

"No! Never! I only want to lick each single hair over your blonde pussy..."

The future father wanted to reward the worthy pussy for the mission accomplished. Merry for the good news, hubby licked the inner walls, writing all the letters of the alphabet with his tongue. However, as he was not very knowledgeable about the alphabet, he often had to start over. Sometimes ignorance brings better luck than erudition.

Lying on her back, wifey had unbuttoned her blouse and was touching her bare tits.

After giving her hubby a very long time to show his gratitude, she stroked his tuft of black hair and whispered, "Even these dairies up here, they need to be encouraged... they will have to give a lot of milk and endure the bites of the first tiny teeth under the gums..."

The hubby climbed up from the bottom of the mine. He devoted himself very eagerly to the two big mountain highs: they were as firm as rocks, and he knew that sometimes she reached orgasm just from the stimulation he gave her with his calloused hands and mouth. Things that refined city dandies wouldn't be able to do, with those clumsy, inexperienced hands: but Edgar was capable of fixing anything with his hands, he could make even her tits work wonders.

But not that morning. She pulled him by his famous forelock, and said, "Come inside me. Now."

He kissed her with all his tongue. Everyone in the village knew that kiss as a 'French Kiss' because a girl called Francine had done it with a gentleman wearing a trench coat. Francine and Trench were associated in one word, as the two tongues also became one.

As she returned the kiss with her full lips, he pushed the tip of his cock between her soaked wet labia. Just the tip: it was good manners to knock before entering. Wifey knew this and giggled. He told her "You are so beautiful when you giggle" and she giggled even louder.

Then he pushed his cock in deeper. She groaned. Each time she moaned, he feared he had hurt her. The first few times, he had even stopped! But she had gently explained to him that even if she was in a little pain, it felt good: and not to stop for anything in the world. So, even though he was afraid of hurting her a little, he kept thrusting. Around the swollen knob, he felt the inner walls gradually widen as she moaned and panted.

All she said was "Coal".

It was a definite message. He wet his finger with saliva, then dug it into her sweet rosebud: two fingers deep in the pinks, one finger deep where it stinks, Grandpa always said. Although to be honest, Daisy's rosebud didn't stink at all: in fact, he liked to lick it for a long time before penetrating her, usually. But now, the position didn't allow it. No big deal: unlike that old city woman, we could have made love again many times, always with the same person, changing position a hundred times.

Daisy was considered a tall girl, but Big Edgar was much taller and had much longer arms: because of that, he could stick his finger into the rosebud without stopping thrusting with his cock. She moaned louder and louder.

The tip of his finger collided with the tip of the knob. Then his fingertip lingered on that thin piece of flesh just below the glans: he didn't know if it had an official name, like Tremulum or Frenulum, but he knew that if he touched it with his finger through his beloved wife's flesh, she would yelp with pleasure.

When he began to press his finger in, crushing her flesh against the knob that was jerking back and forth, Daisy began to howl like a she-wolf.

The first few times he thought it was some kind of joke. Instead, she was howling for real! But after so many times he had got used to it: now, he was smiling and no longer afraid.

She was about to orgasm. Daisy knew very well that he liked something special, and decided to please him even though he hadn't asked for anything.

"Love... wait until you cum."

"Yes."

Ah! Are three letters enough to make a faithful wife orgasm? Yes.

Daisy stopped howling. She also stopped breathing. She almost seemed to have melted all her muscles into a kind of inert jelly. With her last breath, she said to him, 'Spray me in the face, love'.

AH! She was truly an angel. Hubby pulled his hard cock out of his pussy, and jerked rapidly between her tits, spraying on her face. Her chin, her nose, her eyes, her hair: but above all her mouth, open and eager.

"Put it in my mouth, love, I'll clean it for you."

Now it was he who was without muscle, without energy. Hubby slumped down on the straw as wifey licked all the cum off his cock. With her fingers, she collected the cum from his chin and sucked it, swallowing it all.

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Then she got up and went to wash herself with the bucket of cold water and soap. When she returned, she was as fragrant as a field of flowers.

She lay down beside her husband, who was lying on his back. With her right hand, she traced circles on his pectoral muscles.

"That woman told me that you don't know what love is, darling..." sighed Edgar...

"I didn't study in the universities that woman attended, Edgar dear. I'm just a country girl and I remember what my grandfather used to say: my only education was oral, from my mouth to my ears."

"I think that woman has a Ph.D. in Oral..."

"Whatever. My paternal grandfather was a tenor and sang in a choir. My grandmother on the other hand had a normal voice like in any Christmas carol group. They used to say that perhaps love is like a resting place, a shelter from the storm: it exists to give you comfort, it is there to keep you warm!"

"Oh, Daisy! So it's you, this Love everyone's talking about! When it snows outside, I put these parts inside you, and they stay nice and warm!"

"Yeah! But even when I am absent, you remember me, and that thought is enough to give you energy. Even during a snowfall or a hurricane... Even in those times of trouble, when you are most alone... the memory of love will bring you home."

"That's true! Yesterday the tractor practically drove itself home, and there was no visibility on the snowy road!"

"See, the grandparents were right. And some say love is everything, and some say they don't know... Perhaps love is like a window, perhaps an open door: it invites you to come closer, it wants to show you more..."

Overthinking, the hubby repeated the words the spinster had spoken: "Here I am standing beside you! Oh, life is such a wonderful game".

Daisy frowned at him. "I thought you always said that life is just a funny riddle!"

"I used to say that," her hubby admitted, "but that old maid made me think bad things, and I don't want to think about it anymore. Now that I'm with you, and I no longer listen to the croaking voice of the town spinster, I realize that life is just a very long game that you and I play together: when we cook, when we sing, and when we make love together."

Daisy fiddled with the buttons of her tight shirt, with dollar-sized dots. As she spoke, he opened a window between her magnificent 21-year-old tits, opening a single button: she was illiterate but knew perspective better than an architect.

Then, smiling sweetly at him, she continued unbuttoning buttons, until the shirt door was completely open.

Edgar was 21 years old and had endured the teasing of that sad urban spinster for hours: even though he had just cum a few minutes ago, seeing Daisy's nipples made his cock hard as steel again.

"My love, your cock will get hard again even when you are far away and think of me. And even if you lose yourself and don't know what to do... the memory of love will see you through."

Gently stroking him with a finger, Daisy tasted the consistency of his erection. Grandma said that sometimes Grandpa was as flaccid as a cloud of steam, and it took her a lot of effort before she brought it to the desired consistency. Daisy noted instead that today, Edgar's love was stronger than wood. "Oh, love to some is like a cloud, but to some [like you] as strong as steel!"

"Will you ride, my love?"

"Of course! I never refuse a joyride!"

As she squats on top of him, impaling herself on the hard cock, Daisy whispers to him, "In the ten days you've been absent, it's been so hard for me to move on... I had so much to tell you and so many dreams to share with you! It's by far the hardest thing I've ever done, To be so in love with you, and yet so alone. But now that we're together, stay inside me! Push your penis inside my vagina! Follow my movements Up and down, left and right, in circles. Follow me where I go, what I do, and when I bow: make that part of you be a part of me. Follow me up and down, push the shaft all the way... and if I spin the vagina around your cock, let it swirl all around, take my hand, and say you'll follow me!"

"I may follow you forever, Daisy!"

"It's long been on my mind, you know it's been a long, long time: ten days is an infinite time to tell a husband you're pregnant! I've tried to find a way that I can make you understand, the way I feel about you, and just how much I need you to be there where I can talk to you... when there's no one else around: nor the spinster, nor your parents, nobody! You see I'd like to share my life with you and show you things I've seen, places that I'm going to, like the pharmacy to buy medicine, places where I've been, like the one school where for a couple of weeks they tried to teach me how to read, to no avail. You see I'd like to have you there beside me, to never be alone... and all the time that you're with me, we will be at home."

"Oh, wifey, what beautiful words..:"

"Am I good? I'm surprised at myself, too. I can never usually say a sentence longer than three words... but I've been brooding alone for ten days now, and this is the result. Maybe pregnancy makes poets? Who knows! But you keep impaling me, that I haven't reached my orgasm yet."

As she impaled herself on Edgar's hard cock, and filled his mouth with kisses, she murmured, "For some a way of living, AAHH! For some a way to feel, like me NOOOOW! And some say love is holding on: hold on, babe! And some say letting go... Whenever you want, babe, I'm all soaked, fill me with cum!"

At that precise moment, in some distant metropolis, someone in a city skyscraper was so stressed, he would cum after a few seconds, and then invent a thousand excuses to justify the premature ejaculation. Edgar didn't even know what the word 'precocious' could mean: he had never been precocious at school, let alone in bed. Besides, it felt so good to stand for a very long time with his dick motionless, while Daisy went up and down levering her knees, like the piston of a steam train... He stood still and enjoyed it, she pistoned and orgasmed.

"Yay! I feel like you make me ride on the crest of a wild raging storm, surfin' on a giant wave over the ocean!"

"Ride until you want, my love, I never let you down."

"Ah! The Ocean! My cousin said it seemed larger than the sky! Perhaps love is like the ocean: full of conflict, full of pain."

"Oh! You feel pain now?"

"Yes! And, no... it's like a pleasure. Is a pain in conflict with pleasure. Oh, dear, I love you so much! It's like our fire when it's cold outside..."

She continued to ride him for a very long time. He had just cum and could go on for a long time. But she was full of desire and felt that her orgasm was very close.

Daisy lowered herself suddenly, crashing the whole weight of her body onto her husband's hard cock. Like thunder when it rains, she cried out with all her voice. She had impaled herself, and the hard cock had hit parts of her vagina she didn't even know she had. Orgasmic waves made her pussy walls tremble.

Her husband knew that when she trembled like that, it was the signal: Daisy loved to feel the hot jet of sperm flooding her womb. And some say love is holding on, but now love is letting go, right now. "And even if I should live forever, and all my dreams come true... my memories of love will be of you,' thought her husband quietly. Daisy was unconscious, completely obliterated by the post-orgasmic bliss.

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Long story short, the two lovebirds made love all day: six times before sunset.

At sunset, she fell asleep for a short nap. Sunlight flashed on the bare skin of her shoulders through the western window, and on her short eyelashes, untouched by make-up.

While she slept, Edgar prepared dinner. She would wake up craving a juicy sausage in her mouth, and he did not want to disappoint her.

Edgar had never been a poet (having dropped out of school before learning to write) but looking at the soft blond hair on Daisy's skin, he was thunderstruck by a sudden thought. 'Sunshine on your shoulders makes me happy, sunshine in your eyes can make me cry. Sunshine on the water looks so lovely, sunshine almost always makes me high! If I had a day that I could give you, I'd give you a day just like today... If I had a song that I could sing for you, I'd sing a song to make you feel this way."

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Conclusion.

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Over the next six years, Daisy gave birth four times. When she was pregnant, she and Edgar fucked even more than usual! Their goal was to have seven boys, as in "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers", and they had started by naming the first one Adam: but then Beckye, Charlotte, and Dianne were born. They stopped giving birth and took care of loving each other every day and lived happily ever after.

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##### Copyright © 2023. This is a copyrighted work. Unauthorized use is prohibited. All rights reserved by the author.

My contribution to Literotica Event "Karaoke" 2023.

Disclaimer. Since my first childhood, I heard Denver's songs blended all together, and it's very difficult for me to separate the lyrics of one song from the other. In my family, we use song lines as everyday phrases.

Therefore, the reader will forgive me, if in a story entitled only "Country Boy", he will find words from at least five or six other songs: "Country Roads", "Perhaps Love", "Home Again", "Love Again", Follow me", "Calypso", "Sunshine on My Shoulders", and some other stuff (it's you, Freddie?).

Yet I never lived in West Virginia. My humble and fallible country imagination was weakly inspired by great Al Capp's comics about Lil Abner Yokum and Daisy Mae Scragg. My tale is completely fictitious and has no reference to any real existing composers, singers, or fiddlemakers. In no way did I mean to imply that any song's words were stolen from anonymous composers: the words are always those, to describe mountains, forests, or Love.

Do not try to imitate the characters! All the actors on stage are professionals, and in the most dangerous actions, they are replaced by skilled stuntmen. Miss Phyllis, in particular, does not drink or never take drugs, she is happily married and has two children. Don't worry about her. About the Stradivarius fiddle: "It belongs in a Museum!", in the Valley, of course.

English is not my mother tongue, please forgive my mistakes. #####