Fertile Farms Bundle: 20 Erotic Farm Girl Collection

He was bein’ so sweet about it, but it wasn’t nothin’ so placid as sweet, what we were doin’. He’d just taken my girlhood, and I gave it to him, ‘cause there was nothin’ more I wanted in the world than for him to be linked to me forever.

To remember my very first time and know it was none other than Mr. Avery.

I arched my body and I guess he took that as an invitation to touch me, ‘cause his hand went to my chest and he was squeezin’ it hard. I was real busty, and his fingers made indents in the flesh.

It’s too dang hard to describe how it all felt, he’d brought me to orgasm — my very first! — and I didn’t even know it, but this? The act of two of us joinin’ together as one, makin’ love like we s’posed ta? It was more beautiful than the f

inest guitar playin’ I ever heard.

His big strong body continued to move a lil’ faster, pumpin’ that big ol’ cock of his into me so deep, fillin’ me up only to make me whimper with need as he tugged back. I would never grow tired of how amazin’ he felt, I knew that then and there! And he plowed into me faster with each thrust, the two of us a ruttin’ in the field like wild animals ourselves!

I think both of us lost track of time, ‘cause I could see it was gettin’ a bit darker, but we’d been rollin’ around so long, just enjoyin’ each other than it felt like it should still be in the middle of the afternoon.

I kissed his mouth again, lettin’ my tongue roll against his as he tweaked my hard little nipple, and my other hand went to his head, pullin’ him into me.

We kissed so deep and passionately, all as that big ol’ manhood of his pistoned into me again and again, throbbin’ somethin’ fierce. It was my first time, but even then, somethin’ instinctual told me a special moment was comin’... that he had somethin’ on the way.

He bucked and groaned into my mouth as we made out, his hand kneadin’ and fondlin’ my tit, savourin’ the whole moment until at last...

Mr. Avery blew a load in me like he was pent up from a lifetime. And that was darn near the truth too!

His thick shaft pulsed with the exploding seed, fillin’ up my fertile lil’ pussy with every blast, and even as he plucked his lips from mine and was racked with such intense pleasure, I felt his hand move from my breast on down... and tweak my lil’ clit, a nudgin’ me into bliss with him.

I was still really sensitive from before, from when he’d sent me over the edge with his mouth. So that little bit of pressure against my throbbin’ bud...

I was quakin’ around him and my pussy was clenching his manhood. I thought I might hurt him, but he was just moanin’ with bliss, and so I relaxed and just let it all happen, not shyin’ away from it this time.

Together the two of us lost to the moment upon the grass, havin’ writhed free of the blanket long before.

When at last we settled down, and Mr. Avery’s big, bulgin’ dick was done with all but a few last lil’ spurts, we took to kissin’ again. Our bodies gleamin’ with a thin sheen of sweat as we made out.

“I want’cha to be mine, forever and always,” he husked to me, strokin’ back my hair between kisses.

And I knew I didn’t ever want for nothin’ different. We had somethin’ special, me and Mr. Avery, and as the sun set around us, it was the most beautiful moment of my young life.

At least, until a few months later when I started to swell up with a baby. He was so proud, Mr. Avery, and did every little thing for me. Treatin’ me real kindly. Ma and pa were a bit shocked at first, but I think they kinda expected it, so they weren’t too mad or nothin’. Just excited to become grandparents.

From then on, whenever I went home for a visit, it was with Mr. Avery at my side. And me as Mrs. Avery.

Rosa

The Fertile Farm

Book Themes:

Breeding, Oral Sex, Creampie, and Interracial

Word Count:

4,885

* * *

Running a farm is hard work. Doing so alone? Well hell, ain’t many folk that could manage that. But I did. For a good few years, since my pappy passed on. He was a big man, like me. Strong and hardworking, never rested when there was work left to be done, and I learned all I was from him.

So every year when I’d get migrant workers comin’ on by, looking for farmers to hire them on for the harvest season, I turned ‘em away. Not out of heartlessness, but pride. I could run my own farm just fine, and I wanted that sense of accomplishment for myself. I didn’t care to share it with anyone.

That is, not until Rosa came along.