Summer Surprise

"Can I Trent? Can I have all those things?" she asked and then released a blanket of warm air over his crotch, covering his balls and his dick.

Trent's cock throbbed and his words came out in a thick growl. "Yes, Pamela. You can have all that and more." He pushed his fingers into her hair and watched her open her mouth. "Pam."

She smiled and rolled his testicles with her tongue. Each one was pressed against the sides of her teeth, first the left then the right. She ran the warm muscle between them both and pushed them to the front of her lips and then to the back of her throat. As his fingers curled into her blonde locks, she moaned in pleasure. She loved feeling possessed by him. She released his balls and guided his cock to her lips. "Make me fuck you Trent," she told him.

He did. He pushed her down on his cock. Every inch was swallowed up and when he felt her nose hit his dark pubic hairs he knew he'd bottomed out and she'd taken him deeper than any woman had before. "Fuck Pam," he muttered and eased her up his cock again.

She had opened her throat so she could take him and she reveled in the feeling of pride that assailed her senses. She knew by the sound of his voice he had not only loved the sensation of being deep-throated, but something told her that he'd never experienced it before either. She was right.

Trent lay back and his mind melted as her mouth worked its magic on his erection. He pushed her down, almost fearful of hurting her, but soon she set the tempo and he understood he was to match it with his hips thrusting up and his hands pushing her down. His seed filled her and as he shot it down her sweet throat he shuddered over the violent reaction that was rolling through him. His body felt as if it were pounding into the mouth of an angel and he was the sinner that had claimed her as his. Her mouth received the warm fluid punishment of his come.

Pam climaxed without touching her pussy. Knowing she'd pleasured him was enough to give her pleasure. She drank every once of him and finally eased her lips from his cock. She swallowed the last bits and then slipped up his body. "It's time to do another type of milking," she said, winked, and giggled, before sliding off him and into the shower.

Trent watched her naked ass walk away and he growled low. He pulled the blanket back around him and told himself he was going to have to rethink this whole farm idea. Maybe milking cows at noon would work. He laughed out loud, knowing he was fooling himself. He pulled himself out of bed and headed to the downstairs shower; his old bathroom now served the basic of necessities. Normally he was in hers with her, but this morning they were running late.

Once he left the shower, the smell of their morning coffee and tea filled his senses and he briskly walked into the kitchen. "Still raining," he stated. He walked up behind her and kissed her neck. "Cows still get milked in the rain don't they?" he jokingly asked.

"Yes, you goof," she answered back and handed him a mug. He drank his morning brew and headed out the door.

"I'm doing it alone," he told her.

She smiled and waved goodbye. She watched him leave and then she headed back to her room to change clothes. When he returned, he was greeted with a hearty man's breakfast and a woman wearing nothing but an apron.

"Awww hell, however do you expect me to eat?" he asked.

She grinned. "Do you see any fruit on the table?" she asked as she sat down.

Trent glanced briefly away from her tempting figure and answered, "No."

"It's in the bedroom, except for this one piece." She lifted a napkin and slipped a bright, red strawberry under her apron skirt. He watched her face as she moved her fingers under the white linen. He saw her lips part as she did what he knew she was doing. When her hand reemerged it was empty, but a wicked grin lit up her features.

"Eat your breakfast, then you can have your fruit for the day." She winked. He groaned. Eventually Trent ate his fruit and they made love until both were exhausted. They slept through the afternoon and when the clock she'd set rang again, it was time for the evening milking.

* * * * *

Pamela's routines changed. She stayed up later, milked cows later, retired earlier, but not to sleep, but to make love to her young man. Her body would awaken in the middle of the night, hungry for him, his would awaken for her. A month passed and then the next. As the weeks of the summer began to rush by, both pushed away thoughts of what was to become of them, until it was no longer a date on the calendar to avoid, but was staring at them in the face.

Trent eyed his packed bags and stood at the foot of the bed. Pamela walked in and closed the distance between them. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she pressed against him. "You know I love you. Don't you?" she asked.

He closed his eyes. "I know." He turned around and kissed her lips. "I love you, Pam. Every weekend I can spare, I'll be here."

"I know."

"Pam," he pulled back, "if it gets too much, call me. I don't mean missing me, though I expect you to call me then too, but I mean working. I don't want to lose you."

She ran a finger over his lips. "I promise you."

"If you need me, you call me," he demanded.

"I will," she answered. She pulled him down to her level and they kissed deeply. She swept her tongue over his and they danced between bites and licks. Each one wanting more than the other, but wanting to give control, but also submit.

He pulled away and pressed his forehead to against hers. "I have to go," he told her.

"I know."

He kissed her again and left.

She closed her eyes and felt her world spin. She sank to the floor and felt the tears flow down her cheeks. He heard her cry, turned to go back and scoop her up, but stopped. If he walked back into the room, he'd never leave. He also was scared, scared he'd get stuck in the life of a farmer. He'd learned many things that summer, things that he'd never would have learned if he'd turned down the job. The city boy was a city boy with a bit of country in him, but not enough to live his life waking up at three a.m. and being worn to the bone by the time he went to bed.

Trent made his way to the University, his heart heavy and his face clenched in anguish as he fought back tears that he refused to let fall after the miles that separated them grew in number. He made his way to the small apartment he'd rented. The idea of returning to campus did not sit well on his shoulders. He needed the privacy that he could only find in something that was his and his alone. The only thing that would have made his small home better, was if the woman he'd left behind was with him.

Weeks went by and he made his weekend trips back to Pamela. In time though what he feared would happen did happen. He began to resent the farm and the time he spent working it with her and the time he lost when they left each others arms. They argued over little things, and soon his trips were every other weekend. When December came, he couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to spend the month working with shit and wet cows. He wanted Pamela, but he contemplated if wanting her was enough to get him through the years.

His answer came to him in the form of a letter.

Dearest Trent,

I have noticed your lack of enthusiasm when you come back and I understand why. I too have lost the desire to continue the way we have been. I have sold my farm and will be arriving at your doorstep by the end of the week. Please buy strawberries and tea . . . and make me a pie.

Yours,

Pamela