>This is a bit shorter than my usual stuff but I still wanted to share. :)
The air was sweet with the promise of spring as the farmer’s wife knelt in the garden outside their homestead. The morning was still young, but her hands were already covered in earth as she weeded the patch of soil. With the last frost of the winter soon approaching, the seeds that had been germinating in her kitchen window sill were soon to be planted.
Tomatoes, cucumbers, squashes, lettuce. The farmer’s wife’s garden was always fruitful, her pickings the favourite of the other wives at the annual church summer picnic. It was said that she had a magical green thumb, a true blessing for the wife of a farmer.
As the sun rose to its zenith, the farmer’s wife paused and smiled at the sight of her husband walking towards her from the barn. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his arms firm from hard labour and tanned from the sun. His forehead was already dotted with sweat, but he strode up to her without hesitation.
Without greeting, the farmer bunched up his wife’s skirt as she knelt in the dirt, revealing the pale rump of her rear as he freed himself from his overalls. He was already rigid with desire, and ploughed into her without hesitation – she was wet for him, as she always was. He groaned, and her fingernails dug into the soil as she cried out. Their twinning cries echoed across the fields as he worked himself inside of her.
The farmer bred his wife without ceremony or pomp, and departed with a promise of lunch and lemonade, and a thankful pat on her rear.
His ejaculate dripped from her innards as the farmer’s wife continued her work in the garden, the milky seed mixing with the loamy earth of the garden.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/g058w3/the_farmers_wifes_garden_mf_breeding
Love this