WicKed Fulfills a Farm Boy's Dream!

"I came for him, damn you nagging voice! So, make him be here!" I hissed, rhetorically.

Amidst that tumultuous, introspective conversation, came a light tap on the passenger's side window. It startled me. I looked up as a face bent down to peer inside. John Deere looked in with a smile on his face. He was cleaned up and had on a dress shirt and new jeans. He looked more like a country-western star, now, than the farm boy in overalls I'd let look up my skirt yesterday. I smiled, as I rolled down the side window; allowing him a nice profile view of my nipples poking up and my well-exposed thigh under my hiked-up-pleated skirt.

"Your Daddy?" he asked, with those pretty, white teeth sparkling in the midday sun.

"Visiting his cousin," I smiled back, in answer to his question, "recalling old times."

I did my best to imitate a stereotypical southern girl's charms. The warm air rushed into the car adding to the syrupy heat between my legs. The last vestiges of my encounter with the sheriff's deputy dissolved from my memory, as I felt like an anaconda was squeezing me. It coiled itself around my pussy. My head tipped back a bit and my breath caught deep in my lungs, as my cunt cartwheeled. My orgasm switch got flipped on, for just a moment.

"What'cha doing out this way?" JD queried me, oblivious to the previous strain in my voice, as I answered his last question. I had answered him, while undergoing the shock of a couple of mini-orgasms.

"Why, I came out here to kidnap you, John Deere!" I answered, letting my attempt at a southern drawl drag out while trying to control the modulation of my voice and the tremor of my orgasm at the same time.

"Jack! My name is Jack Fletcher--not John Deere," he responded, somewhat taken aback.

'Guess he's never been kidnapped,' I thought to myself. He certainly didn't get the connection to being called John Deere, because of his crusty green hat with a trademark tractor emblem on it, that he wore yesterday.

"Okay, Jack! Would you like me to kidnap you, or you just want to stay in the diner all day?" I pushed him again, for the answer I wanted. Then, softening my response with as much southern girl sensuality as I could deliver, I added, "Or, we could just go for a ride, the two of us, and get acquainted. What do you say, Jack?"

It took a few seconds for him to process my proposal, but Jack's grin began to spread nearly ear-to-ear as he responded, "Might be fun to get kidnapped!"

Smiling to myself as he readily agreed to my proposal, I slipped out of the car; Jack fell in alongside me. We walked into the diner.

"What's your favorite shake, Jack?"

"Chocolate. I like chocolate best."

Jack responded, but hung back a couple of steps as we entered the diner. Guess he didn't want his mama to see us together, after his falling out on the floor, yesterday. The diner was nearly empty, but several guys were watching a baseball game on the wall-mounted television.

"Hi, ma'am," I called out in my cheeriest voice. It floated over to the ballgame watchers. A head turned, then the others, as he nudged his buddies. I could hear some low mumbling and then they broke out in laughter. I picked up a few words... about getting into her skirt, too.

'Fat chance today, boys,' I thought, as I turned to look at John Deere and smiled. 'Today, boys, this lioness has John Deere in her sights and all of you will just have to dream about what I have planned for my Deere.'I mused.

Mama Deere came over to the counter looking a little nonplussed. She asked, "Your daddy not with you, today, honey?"

"Yes, ma'am," I answered politely. "He's in the car listening to the radio. Just can't get men away from baseball games, you know!" I answered her question, while looking over at Jack sitting in a booth by the window. I knew he was listening. I wondered what he was thinking, knowing full well my Daddy wasn't in the car!

"Same as yesterday?" Mrs. Fletcher asked, with a little less frost in her tone. Guess that comes about from thinking my Daddy is outside waiting for me. I was beginning to suspect that she thought I might be here to mess with her baby boy, again. That thought sounded, 'So... WicKed.'

"No, ma'am. My Daddy would like a chocolate shake today. And can you make a cherry shake for me, with a real cherry on top?" I put emphasis on the real cherry part, just a bit louder, hoping it tickles Jack's pickle a bit.

While the shakes were whirling, I turned toward Jack Fletcher and hooked my head toward the door, expecting him to leave and meet me outside. But he got up and came to the counter instead, "Mama, I'm going over to Ray's to shoot some pool. Okay, Mama?"

"Be back here by six o'clock! You know your Daddy is coming by to pick us up," she answered. Jack flashed me a grin and walked out the door. 'Sly devil could lie, too!' I nearly laughed that thought out loud.

Getting into the car, I realized, in an instant, that I had no place to go. Other than that hot cornfield driveway Daddy and I stopped to fuck in, yesterday.

"So, Jack when you get kidnapped out here, where does a girl take you... so you can talk to her, in private? Got some quiet place in mind?"

Jack may have been slow on the uptake earlier, but he chimed in quickly, in answer to my question. "The walnut grove back up off the highway is shady and the breeze is nice there most of the day. People go there for Sunday picnics, mostly. Right now, there won't be anyone there, I guess. We could go that away, if you like."

Jack motioned to turn left; I pulled out of the diner and we were off to the walnut grove.

"Ah. Um. I don't know your name?" Jack managed to untie his tongue, after spending the last four minutes ogling my bare thighs. I hadn't bothered to adjust my skirt; just slid into the seat and fastened my belt earlier. Warming him up a bit, I thought. If it worked for the deputy, why not for the farmer?

'My name, my name,' I mused, as I thought about what to tell him.

"My friends call me Kat, my best friend calls me, 'WicKed.' Which name do you like better?"

"Hum. I never heard someone named WicKed, before. Can I call you WicKed, too?"

The sound of his voice was getting raspy, as his throat seemed to be drying out; too much thigh no doubt. I thought he needed a bit more of that chocolate shake before we get to the walnut grove or his tongue was going to be too dry to handle its job.

"WicKed." I said, with a smile as I looked over at Jack. "Calling me WicKed, is just fine, Jack Fletcher. I'd like to think we can be best friends, too. Or, maybe, friends with benefits."

Thoughts about my tattoo, 'So... WicKed,'were rattling around in my head as I drove toward the walnut grove. It was sounding great about then. I could just imagine the impression it would make on Jack Fletcher when he caught sight of it centered just above my slit. Probably cause him to blow his load right as he finishes reading it!

The walnut grove was exactly as Jack described it. High up on a hilltop and far off the highway, it provided ideal shelter from prying eyes. I parked in the shade and cut off the engine while turning to face Jack. The ensuing silence caused us to fall into that trance when boy first meets girl. The trance where an insular farm boy has no idea what to do with a new acquaintance. He still seemed mute and unable to make his lips work; his hands weren't working either. Guess, I'd play the girl part, coy, shy, and seemingly uncertain of what she wants, and lead him on.

"Jack, I have a blanket in the back, would you like to get it and we can sit out on the grass under that big walnut tree and get to know one another. Would you like that, Jack?"

Jack's mute button was still on. He just nodded, opened the door, and got out the blanket. His hands were trembling. I'm causing that! My southern charms at work and I began to feel at ease, in control of the game.

'Here comes the pitch! It's a fastball, right down the middle, he swings, strike one!' The diner's ballgame noise mentally played in the background of my mind. I could already see images of the diner gang standing around the blanket, watching John Deere maul my tits; while plowing my fertile field. Those diner boys stood around us in a circle, anxiously waiting, hoping for their turn at bat!

Jack looked like he was about to faint as he stumbled about, unfolding the blanket, and finally plopped down. I retrieved my shake from the cup holder and did my slow model walk over to him, letting the hem of my skirt brush his face. He craned his head upward under my skirt, watching, as my legs opened for him again; just like at the diner yesterday. His mama wasn't here to stop his unabashed look at my eye candy, today. I could feel his breath on my legs as he exhaled deeply. The warm air sent tingles up my legs. I felt a slickness oozing from my slit onto my thigh.

Stepping back a second, to focus on my shake, I fished out the dark-red cherry from the bottom. Jack watched as I held it between my teeth, before sucking into my mouth.

"Jack, have you ever kissed a girl, like you know, a French kiss? Put your tongue in between a girl's lips and... enjoyed her cherry?" I asked, feeling the heat beginning to radiate from my core. My viscous juices begin to flow from my cunt lips.

"No. Never." Came his husky response.

"Would you like to, Jack?"

"Yes, WicKed, I would like to."

"Then close your eyes, Jack and I will kiss you just like that." The words flowed like southern molasses into his pussy-whipped brain.

I know Jack was probably thinking about getting his tongue into my mouth and dancing with my tongue, but this time the dance was going to be different. I reached around my waist and unfastened my skirt, letting it drop to the blanket.

"Open your eyes, Jack," I whispered.

His eyes turned into saucers as his jaw dropped. Just the way I wanted it, just the way I needed it to be--opened as I threaded my fingers through his curly-red hair and pulled his face into my cunt lips.

"Put your tongue in, Jack! Kiss my lips, Jack!" I hissed out the words.

His face, momentarily, fought against my restraining hands, as the newness of my wet taste and musky smell overpowered him. Then surrendering, he gave his will over to me, as I pressed his head more tightly against me.

It took just an instant to find out that he has no skills; not like Daddy; not like Marie. He reminded me of a newborn calf with its raspy tongue nursing at its mother's teats. Rough. Crude. No thought given to pleasing me. He danced around my peach like a hummingbird's tongue flitting from flower to flower gathering; without considering how to please the honeysuckle for sharing her nectar.

Slowly, I came to realize that afternoon was not going to be about my pleasure. John Deere hadn't a clue as to how a pussy needs to be kissed, edged, or eaten.

Hopefully, I'd be able to give him some training and he would return the favor before I have to get him back to his mama by six o'clock. I pulled off my tee, as he held my ass with both hands, his tongue was still stirring around between my legs. I pulled away just long enough to get him out of his clothes. I stopped a few seconds to take in his tall lanky body. Despite his lankiness, his arms and legs were muscularly sculptured, from all the farm labor, I supposed. Genetics had sculptured the appendage prominently waving from his middle. It wasn't too long, but thickly enhanced with a bulbous, purplish-throbbing nob. Not Daddy's size, but certainly adequate! We dropped down onto the blanket and I laid on my back, with his slickened face gobbling away at my nectar.

His glassy eyes peered up the valley between my thighs, "Are you going to let me... I mean can... May I fuck you, WicKed?" Incoherently spoken, but he finally stammered out what he wanted.

'Ah, he has manners and asks me so nicely!' I thought, as I looked down into the curly redhead's blue eyes peering up at me from between my legs. I know the joy that should have flowing through my core and searing my brain by now. It should be resonating like a Stradivarius violin through my cunt by now; but it wasn't.

If I were a selfish girl, I would just have pushed John Deere away, and left his ass sitting on the grass as I drove off. But that's not how Mommy and Daddy raised me. I made a promise to JD this morning, as I stared at the empty shake containers in the car. And I always keep my promises, always.

"Why do you think I kidnapped you, Jack,... just to talk?" My soft words answered his dreams. His eyes lit up.

I'll never forget Jack's eyes in that moment. They looked just like the blue curl of smoke trailing the head of a wooden matchstick as it slides down the striker and bursts into white-hot flames. Eyes filled with pure lust. The ignition source for a jet's afterburners kicking into rocket mode.

Just like that, he scrambled up and over my body like a lizard crawling onto a hot rock. I stiffened becoming the rock, without feelings. Just lying on the ground, waiting for Jack Lizard to use me. I bore his full weight, upon my body, as he cradled his head next to my ear. His breathing sounded like the snorts of those Black Angus. Jack was so on fire! I eased my legs apart, drawing them up into a butterfly wing pose. Jack's body aligned within the curvature Nature had designed for man and woman. More for man though, it serves as a focus access point for lustful thrusting.

I could feel the girth of his five-inch dick, as it probed to find my opening. I didn't offer to guide him. When John Deere's cockhead finally located my slit, it belted a home run in one swing. Immersed in the pain of not being ready for him, I stifled a groan. One, two, three... four, five, six... seven, eight, nine strikes and he rolled off of me gasping for air. The inning was over. And I don't even get up to bat. I lay covered in his perspiration, waiting for him to recuperate. No tingles for me.

"Was it good for you, Jack?" I murmured, while watching his perspiration form small beads and drip from his face. With the back of my hand, I caressed his cheek attempting to share some sense of intimacy that is properly due after sex. John Deere didn't get it.

"Thank you, WicKed. I don't know if you could tell, but it's my first time. I hope I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, taking in a number of deep breaths.

"No. Jack, it didn't hurt, much," I signed. 'Too damn late, Jack, to be asking that after the fact.'

His eyes were still fixed on my slit as he spoke to it. He was not speaking to my eyes. My Daddy and Marie would be speaking into my eyes after we fucked. They would be sharing how this moment with me made them feel.

"It's my first time too, Jack. I've never been all the way with a boy before you, Jack."

I emphasized his name as I replied, slowly letting that fact sink into his pussy-whipped brain. I got his attention; just for a moment, but he didn't respond. His head looked up into my eyes, for the briefest of moments, then back to the mysterious hole between my legs. He reached out to touch me, there. Where are the sweet words of comfort, you're supposed to offer the girl whose virginity you just took, Jack Fletcher?

I didn't think he needed to know about me doing my Dad or Marie. Dad, after all, is a man, not a boy, so technically, I'm not lying about being a virgin; for the first time with a boy. And since this is his first time, I don't think I should kill every boy's fantasy about taking a girl's cherry. Better to let him believe he did well on his first time at bat.

Jack's sweet words were not forthcoming. Instead, he nervously jumped up and started putting on his underwear. He came, he saw, he fucked me; and it seemed that was all cornfield boys have ever been taught to expect to do. Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma'am.

"Stop, Jack! Lie back down with me!" I cried out, in frustration.

He stopped. Still, uncertain about what to do next, and knelt back down to lie at my side. I gave myself over to Jack for the rest of the afternoon. His rough hands groped and probed me in somewhat crude, miserable attempts to satisfy his curiosity about a girl's cunt. I did my best to guide his hands and answer his questions about what girls want and need to achieve resolution. But Jack's focus was on being a jackrabbit and feeling up a naked girl for the first time in his life. His hands and mouth were everywhere, but not long at anywhere in particular. It was rabbit-like probes--he couldn't focus. I lay there, letting his foraging play out, hoping he would come around.

__________

His refraction rate was rather quick. Frustratingly, though, he entered me again, with the same boning moves as before, in spite of the time I spent telling him about what girls need to get off. He managed to last longer this time, but there was no love in his technique. He just plowed a straight row to the end of the field. I tried to force an orgasm to well up inside me, but his cock just didn't take me there.

"Mama! Fuck me harder, Mama. I'm cumming!"

I groaned with pent-up frustration as he pounded my cunt until he burst within me. Then he pulled out, flopping onto the blanket like a wet fish out of water. His withered dick, covered in my juices, glistened in the sunlight that filtered its way through the walnut tree's shady leaves.

Finishing what he couldn't do, my body convulsed under the onslaught of my fingers dipping into my fuck-hole. He watched my masturbation, just as mystified now, as when his face first said, 'howdy' to my cunt.

"Like this, Jack! This is how you should make a girl feel." I hissed out the words as I frigged my cunt and came hard. My bones came unhinged and I melted down into the blanket letting my body return to equilibrium. I rolled onto my side, and taking his chin, I turned his face to look at me. I bore into those blue eyes.

"How long have you wanted to fuck your mom, Jack?"

"Wha-- What?" Jack's response came with a stammer. I guessed he wasn't aware of what he said before he came.

"You were telling your mama to fuck you harder while you were fucking me, Jack. So, how long have you wanted to do her?" I asked, as my dopamine high dissipated from my brain.

Jack's response came slowly, "You're not going to tell my mama, are you, WicKed?"

I took a few moments to think about a reply; while fixing my gaze on Jack's eyes. He became restless and uneasy in the silence and started to look away. I grasped his chin with my right hand, tilting his head back. I wanted his eyes to fix upon mine, again.

"Jack, it's normal for young guys to want to fuck their mothers or their sisters. Psychiatrists say just about one in seven of them have mothers that actually do it with them. It's even higher for their sisters wanting their cocks. They make love and are okay with it, Jack. They just don't let the cat out of the bag about it to anyone else."

I tried to soothe away some of his guilt, as I cuddled next to him, letting his hands roam over my body as I imagined how Marie would handle this situation with one of her patients. I drew a parallel to my own feelings about Daddy and just changed up the gender to fit Jack's case.

"You should find some quiet, alone time; where you can sit your mom down and tell her how you feel about her, Jack. Let her know that, if she doesn't feel the same way about you, you're okay with that and won't ask again. But Jack when you tell her; hold her hands and keep looking into her eyes as you ask to fuck her, to make love to her. Never look away or down. Just keep your eyes locked onto her eyes. The worst that can happen, Jack, is that she turns you down. You know that if she says no, she won't tell your dad, and she will always love you, because that's what mothers do, Jack. Who knows? You could be the one in seven, whose mother says yes!"