Ah, springtime out on the farm—when to whatever else a young man’s fancy might turn, you still had the equipment to service and work to do if anything was going to be planted. We were finally past the last real chance of frost, and it was already well on the way to being an unseasonably warm day. I had just finished running the cultivator through the house garden plot for the last time. The soil had turned up well and was just crumbly enough for good planting.
My wife had come out and stacked her tools, line, stakes, and seed packets by the side as I finished. She had her hair in a long fat ponytail and sure looked lovely standing there in her sleeveless white cotton blouse and yellow mid-thigh length shorts. Her generous curves filled them out well, and it was obvious from the jiggling of her blouse she’d done without a bra today, as well. I knew spring had arrived for sure when she dressed like that for outdoors around the house. We waved to one another as I drove off to replace the cultivator with the brush hog and park the tractor. When I got done with fuel, oil, and lube checks on them, I headed off to get the lawnmower ready for the season.
Pushing the mower back past the garden toward the shop, I saw her bent over at the waist, putting stakes into a furrow beside the line she had stretched there. Those yellow shorts might as well have been painted on as they pulled across the gorgeous backside pointed in my direction. They also made it clear that they contained no panties, just a nice big, round, silky smooth wife bottom. My, she was distracting! Grinning, I shook my head and, telling myself to pay attention to the chore at hand, took the mower on to the shop.
A few minutes later, I had to get a wrench from the truck to finish the job. Passing by the garden again, I saw she had her hoe in hand and was scoring a smaller furrow for whatever she was planting next. She sure jiggled nicely every time she chopped at a clod.
I might have made it back to the mower with the wrench except that, even though no longer a young man, it was at that point my fancy fully turned to what I always fancied anyway, my wife—mainly because she had turned again too and now faced away from me. She’d dropped to her knees and gotten busy with her trowel. With her hips high, her shorts had ridden up and were stretched tight, bringing her derriere into full definition. That light, white sleeveless blouse had ridden up too, but unlike the shorts, it hung nice and loose. Moreover, with the sun’s current position and where I stood, I could see it wasn’t the only thing hanging loose. I could see right up her blouse, and both full, rounded breasts were swinging gently in there, tips taut from just brushing the fabric beneath them.
Well, while she might be hanging loose, I was suddenly aware that I was no longer hanging and was very far from loose. It came to me that the mower wasn’t the only thing needing service at the moment. It was just going to have to wait. I had just enough presence of mind to place the wrench carefully on top of a fence post rather than simply dropping it into the grass.
My wife was so intent on her planting that I walked right up to that luscious sight and stood staring as I absorbed the beauty of it all. Her ponytail hung down over her left shoulder, and several inches of enticing bare skin showed between her shirt and shorts. “I need to help you with the planting, dear,” I said.
A pair of deep brown eyes looked up at me as she turned her head. She smiled and replied, “That’s okay, honey. I’ve got it, and I’m sure you’ve got plenty to do.” So saying, she went back to work. I waited for a couple of seconds and then, standing on first one foot and then the other, removed my shoes and socks. The warm, crumbly dirt between my toes felt nice. As I undid the buttons on my shirt, I said, “Let me rephrase that. I need to help plant you, dear.”
It took her a bit to finish poking a seed into the dirt and pat it down. By the time she had looked up at me questioningly, I had gotten my shirt off and was undoing my pants. The questioning look morphed to wide-eyed amazement as my pants came open at the top and what they had been restraining just popped straight out.
“Oh! So I see,” she said as I reached down to help her up. In little more than the time it took me to shuck my pants, she’d kicked off flip flops, stripped, and just flowed into my waiting arms, plastering herself quite nicely all up and down me. We had a good long kiss going when I realized that she was rubbing her thighs around quite nicely where my most outstanding feature of the moment was clenched firmly between them.
Breaking off the kiss and holding her back far enough to gaze into her eyes, I said, “You have a nice furrow in your very own garden that I believe needs some plowing and planting, don’t you think?”
With a quick squirm and squeeze, she stepped back a bit and replied, “You know what? I think I do. What do you propose to do about it?”
“Well, we’ve made love pretty much everywhere around the place over the years, but somehow we’ve never gotten around to christening this garden we’re standing in. So I believe I’m going to do this,” I answered.
She squealed happily when I stooped just far enough to catch her behind the knees with my left arm as her shoulders fell into my right. I lifted her off her feet and got in a quick kiss as I cradled her. Taking a couple of steps forward to clear the area she’d been planting, I went quickly to my knees and laid her out before me in the warm soil of our garden.
Oh, what a sight she was! Kneeling between her spread legs, I could see her furrow already glistening wetly as it waited for my attention. When I looked up from where I’d so obviously been staring, I saw her wide, knowing smile and she lifted her arms toward me. I caught her hands in mine as I lowered myself into her garden, sinking slowly and steadily all the way in and spreading our arms wide to the side. My wife was hot and wet;so away we went. I remember thinking she’d be well and truly plowed if I had anything to do with it.
She began arching her back to meet me on the down thrust as I shoved her back to earth. After that, I don’t recall much except for a cry on her part as she suddenly came beneath me and a groan from me as I emptied all the seed that I could as deeply as possible into her. With a shudder that made me realize I had chill bumps despite the warm sun on my back, I released her hands. Getting to my knees, I saw that wide knowing smile again as she raised her hands, and I helped her to her feet.
We stood right there in a long, warm hug and came slowly back to the world around us. While gently rubbing crumbs of dirt off her backside, I found myself looking at the ground where we had lain. “Well, we certainly made an impression this time, didn’t we?” I thought with a smile. Proud of my own internal wit and wondering what she’d make of it, I held her back and looked pointedly at the ground behind her. “What do you think about that, honey?” I asked her.
My wife’s answer had us both laughing till our sides hurt. Cocking her head to one side and giving it careful consideration, she said, “You know, with four legs like that, even if there had been snow, we’d have made one very suspicious-looking angel, dear.”
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