Home Grown Pleasure [MF]

When I arrived home for lunch on that hot, humid Friday the garage door was already up. As usual, I entered the house that way, through the side door into the kitchen. “Hi, Honey,” I called, not seeing my wife, Tracy. I set down my briefcase and walked in further.

The van was in the garage, so I knew she was around. All the windows were open on this sunny day and I walked into our daughter’s room to look out the back window. As I’d guessed, I could see Tracy out in the vegetable garden, standing amidst the rows of lettuce, tomatoes, and wax beans, pondering the state of things.

Tracy was wearing shorts, a brightly colored tank top, sandals, and gardening gloves. Even from the house, the contrast of her tan shoulders against the lime-green tank top brought to mind the feel of her warm skin under my lips and the lightly salty smell of summer skin.

I suppose it was a subtle desire to get a closer look at her that motivated me to go out and say hi before hunting through the fridge for lunch options. I walked back out of the garage and around the side of the house. We have a large rear yard. It was mostly screened from neighbors by thick maple, oak and hemlock trees. In summer, it was a nearly impenetrable wall of vegetation.

Approaching the garden, I noticed Tracy was now down on her hands and knees between rows of lettuce, pulling weeds. The sight of my wife on all fours is always provocative. Her tank top had drifted up, exposing her tan lower back and its fine golden peach fuzz to the sun. Tracy gets the strangest tan lines in the gardening season, and every glimpse of her lower back makes me want to kiss her there. Like a flash in my mind, I saw myself behind her, taking her doggie-style, clutching her deliciously plump ass cheeks and caressing her violin-shaped back and hips.

“Hi,” I said, “what’s going on?” Behind my sunglasses, my eyes were glued to her back, ass, and calves.

“I’m weeding…duh,” she said back over her shoulder. “How’s your day going?”

“Fine,” I said. “I just came home to eat up some leftovers. You look hot.”

“Well, it is pretty hot,” she said, continuing to pull weeds.

“No, I mean…you look pretty…hot,” I repeated with a slightly different inflection.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure,” she groaned sarcastically.

I knew I had to touch Tracy somehow, somewhere. The visual attraction I feel for my wife is like a non-specific but burning thirst to stare at her intently, to feel her skin against my lips, to smell her, and to run my hands over her. But definitely a thirst. I needed to drink deeply to quench it.

I stepped between the rows of vegetables and stood with one foot on either side of Tracy’s leg. She was still dutifully weeding away on all fours. I crouched down and laid a hand on her calf. Her skin was hot and deliciously smooth. I lightly ran my hand along her calf towards the back of her thigh.
I glanced quickly across the brook where a neighbor’s yard is visible through sparser vegetation. I confirmed their car wasn’t in the driveway. No one was home. I had a wild urge that I was sure Tracy would cut off, but I figured I’d indulge it as far as I could.

Tracy didn’t say anything at my hand upon her calf. She just kept on weeding. After a couple of caresses and squeezes, I dared to slide my hand up the inside of her thigh to the edge of her shorts. That was pretty high. She was wearing some older athletic shorts, a little shorter than typical attire. Due to her motions they had hiked fairly high up her legs, defining things nicely and nearly exposing that sweet indentation where a woman’s thigh meets her groin.

“Hey mister!” she finally reacted. “Whatta ya think you’re up to?”

“Well,” I explained, “Just appreciating nature’s bounty.” I moved my hand back to her calf, afraid she was going to cut off my lustful explorations right there.

With my mind now firmly in the gutter, I must have been susceptible to perceiving certain shapes and forms. Thus, my attention was caught by an enormous cucumber growing from one of the vines near Tracy’s other leg. It was very phallic and slightly thicker than the largest sex toy I had ever witnessed Tracy absorb. Its length was preposterous. It lay there in the shade of a leaf on top of some straw. It was clean and smooth but with subtle bumps all over, like the most carefully designed ribbing for a condom. The thoughts in my mind had the blood rushing to my cock. My bikini briefs were becoming noticeably constricting.

I grasped it near one end and lifted the weighty vegetable. With a gentle twist it came free of the vine. It was already pretty clean, but after I flipped it around to grip the narrow end near the stem, I rubbed its length on my shorts to polish it up.

As I started caressing Tracy’s calf again with my right hand, my left slowly moved the cucumber between her thighs. When it touched the inside of one thigh about halfway up, she jumped a little, startled at its relative coolness and mysterious texture.

After a quick glance her tension turned to a puzzled laugh. “What the hell are you doing?” she asked as I ran the monstrous vegetable phallus up the inside of her right leg. I continued its cool intrusion all the way up to her crotch, pressing it against her. Its thickness touched the inside of both thighs and her hidden pudendum all at once.

I suspect her sense of propriety wanted her to protest, but I must have hit exactly the right spot, because all she did was gasp, “oh,” mixing surprise with a dash of naughty delight. She seemed surprised how much she liked the sensation of having a cucumber pressed against her snatch on a summer day in the middle of the garden.

Pursuing the erotic momentum, I began running the cuke back forth across her shorts between her legs. Tracy had stopped weeding and was on all fours, hands firmly planted on the earth, with her head dangling down and her breathing growing a little faster. No longer caring about dirty knees, I moved up behind her and knelt straddling her right calf. I caressed her thigh and beautiful back while continuing with the cucumber in my other hand. I slid my free hand up under her shirt to her bra strap and then down along her curvaceous side. She moaned in a way that was a clear green-light.
My cock was pressing tight against my underwear and probably peeking out the top of my waistband. I felt that familiar itching-yearning in my crotch – the yearning to feel myself sliding into her.

I decided to test how far Tracy was going to let me take this. Without releasing the cuke, I gently grabbed her waistband and started sliding her shorts down off of her buttocks. I was sure she’d stop me there, but my wife is always surprising me, even after ten years of marriage. She said nothing. She just wiggled a little to help the shorts slide off. I withdrew the cucumber momentarily to pull them down to the ground.

The vista now stunned me. The thin white strap of a thong ran down the crack of her ass and I could clearly see that she must have shaved completely recently, for everything was smooth and slick. I hooked a finger in the thong and slid it over to one cheek, while spitting softly on the end of the cucumber and licking it to spread the moisture evenly. Her pussy left the back of my fingers soaked and I knew she was ready. I pressed the smooth, wet end of the cuke against her entrance. It pressed her pussy lips flat. I rotated it slightly and it spread her lips apart, pushing them aside.

Grabbing one of her ass cheeks in one hand, I applied gentle rhythmic pressure with the cucumber, each time pushing a little farther into her. I could see its skin darkened by her juices. A little moan and an “oooohhh” escaped her lips.

Tracy began pushing back toward the cucumber, yearning for more depth. It was a wide vegetable. Wider at the end than the middle, then widening again near the base where I held it. I pressed it into her about four inches, reaching the narrower part. Then five and six inches, reaching the narrowest segment and the broadening. Then she pushed back, taking in a couple more inches. A shudder ran through her and she moaned again. Her moisture was running down the insides of both thighs. She leaned down on her elbows in the dirt with her forearms crossed. With closed eyes she rested her head on her arms with her ass up in the air and the sunlight.

“Fuck me deeper,” she murmured.

I slowly pushed the cucumber into her farther, fearful of going too deep. I’m an average length man, but thick. Her favorite dildo is a couple of inches longer. I was sure I had this cucumber into her about nine inches. With continuing thrusts she took ten, then eleven inches. I was turned on with amazement and rock hard at seeing this performance in bright sunlight right in front of my face.

“Oh, stop there,” she said. “Okay, a little more,” breathlessly. I pushed in about twelve inches.

“Whoa…there,” she gasped. I couldn’t believe it was so deep. I backed it out a half inch and made a mark with my thumbnail. I slid my hand up to that spot. Then I started sliding it in and out of her, bumping her pussy gently with my hand on each in-stroke and rotating and twisting the cuke on the out-stroke. It was slightly curved and must have been finding every interior surface. My hand was wet with her juices.

Tracy was clearly in another dimension now, moaning lightly, breathing short and fast, and whispering “oh, yeah; fuck me, fuck me; fill me up” and other porn-like ramblings. Her thighs were quivering with ecstatic muscle tremors.

I was flushed with excitement and sun, my cock so hard that squeezing my Kegel muscle felt like gripping a tree branch. The restriction of my underwear against my upright shaft was delicious as I watched twelve inches of slick cucumber gliding in and out of my wife’s snatch. Each change of direction sucked her pussy lips in or out. The cuke was slick with her clear and lightly creamy love juice.

She moaned in ecstasy and gave a series of shuddering gasps and whimpers, telling me, “oh God, I’m cumming. I’m cumming. Oh. Oh. Fuck. God. Oh yeah.” She slowed a bit.

“I want you in me,” she suddenly said.

“But I’m smaller,” I said, truly amazed she wanted to switch at this moment.

“Yeah,” she said, “but I want you to fill me with cum.” Man, she was feeling naughty.

Delightedly, I left the cucumber sheathed in Tracy’s body and unbuttoned my shorts, sliding the waistband of my underwear down to hook under my balls. My cock was standing at attention like a teenager’s and the waistband hoisted my balls up deliciously. I quickly pulled the cuke out of her, making a wet sucking sound that made us both laugh. Her cunt was wide open and sopping.

It was easy to press my rigid shaft straight into Tracy in one stroke because she was so slick. Her hot, sweaty ass felt like heaven against my abdomen. I was overcome with dirty carnal lust and licked her juices off the last several inches of the cucumber before I let it fall to the dirt. Her saline tang drives me crazy.

“Fuck me hard,” Tracy commanded. And so I did, with her pushing back on every stroke. It was a furious fuck.

My hoisted balls mashed into her vulva and her beautiful plump ass-cheeks slapped against my abdomen with light clapping sounds. I held her hips and pumped away, closing my eyes and turning my face up until all I saw was brilliant redness of sun through my eyelids.

Like scratching the greatest itch of all, with a rushing burn I blew my load, cramming my cock into her and pulling her against me as firmly as I could. I gyrated my hips and groaned in pleasure at my ejaculation.

“Oh God, yesssssss,” Tracy hissed as she felt my dick spasming and squirting inside her body.

After holding that moment until my ejaculation spasms quieted, I started stroking lightly again, experiencing several aftershocks that made my breath shudder and feeling her pussy suck a little more cum out of me.

We were both drenched in sweat. Her thighs and my balls were coated in our fluids. I pulled out of her pussy and she drew herself upright. After brushing her hands off, she slid her thong strap back into her sopping crotch and pulled her shorts up. She turned and put her arms around my neck. We knelt in the garden and she gave me a deep French kiss.

“Holy crap!” Tracy whispered. “That was fucking unreal.”

“On the contrary, it was very organic,” I retorted and pressed another wet kiss on her. She gave my slick, waning boner a few loving strokes.

Simultaneously, we remembered where we were and I rehoused my shrinking dick and buttoned my shorts. With wobbly legs and muddy knees we walked back to the house holding hands. Inside, we stripped and got in the shower together. We took turns washing each other’s bodies, especially our knees, and hugged and kissed deeply in the shower stream. After drying off and putting on fresh clothes, I hurried back to the office, hungry but very satisfied. It was tough to explain the change of clothes to my co-workers. I went with, “I spilled a whole glass of iced tea on myself.”

Since that day, we always share a knowing grin while shopping for produce and evaluating the cucumbers at the store. We rarely go home without one. And during the summer, we plant twice as many as we used to.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/sudi0a/home_grown_pleasure_mf