American Gothic.jpg

Gothic American

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It all started in the barn. The rattling of the chains in the breese sparked sponthing in her. It reminded her of the dream from the night before. It started innocently enough, walking through the wheat fields, when she 

 

Turning around, she saw the field hand standing behind her, erect and ready. His ankle was shackled to a length of chain he was dragging behind him. She felt a rush of euphoria mixed with fear. She knew this wouldn’t end well. As her heart raced, she dropped to her knees and knew her husband had found out! She had been paying the field hand in sexual favors instead of with the coin he had provided her with. 

 

Memories of their first encounter flood her mind. Bending over the water trough, she slips and falls into the icy cold water. Coming out of the water, the dress clinging to her curves, nipples fully erect.

 

Gasping at the cold on her delicate creamy flesh, she didn’t notice the farm hand standing so close behind her. A hand on her supple hip caused her to stiffen immediately. Her heart racing as his firm hands traced her torso. Testing, squeezing, caressing. Her breath ever quickening as her hands rose up her firm young body. Slowly, teasingly his hands engulf her firm breasts. His index fingers graze her nipples, causing her breath to quicken. She moaned as he pressed his body against her back, his rock hard erection planted between her cheeks. His left hand lifted from her breast, it grips her throat and suddenly pushed her over the water trough. She can’t resist, even if she wanted to. She whimpers as his hands explore the apex of her shapely legs, itching toward the moist, hot center, and then…. Tune in next week when our hero says “and then”