The break of day
The crack of dawn 
The merry dance begins
With stretch and scratch all stubbled face
The Miller trudges down the lane 
Past river stream and meadow green
To open up his mill

Back at home, the cock crows bold
The sow takes charge her brood
The green eyed matron the sweet Marie 
Wakes and sleepily eyes the morn
Flame red curls round and round 
A lovely chaotic mess 
Betraying night of foggy wilds 
And dreamily slipping through sleeps last door
Last night slowly creeps back into focus

A drunken haze
A soiled blouse
A pool of semen drying 
Upon her cheek and large round breast
Her naked body a painted canvas
A blurry memory surfacing

Into her mouth the Miller’s cock
Large and thick and throbbing 
The sudden release
Of thick white seed
Squirting, pulsing, splattering, pumping
Squirming, soaking, throbbing, thumping

Sitting naked upon bedside row 
Clothing strewn carelessly asunder 
In tangled hair a pearl-white bead
What other presents lay in store
The memory of the bending down
Of strong hands of reaching round
Of nipple ache and slipping snake and pounding
And the pounding

The sweet Marie with flame-red hair 
Shakes off the memory’s wake
And the yearning from within
The subtle ache for pounding snake makes slippery once again

Turning head to morning chores
She curses Miller 
His horny thorn
For this blouse it was the last 
unsoiled by his seed 
Her list of chores now one item more to laundry or
Perhaps  enough to soak the salty stain

Pulling on a handmade dress
Digging out Miller’s old flannel 
Gathering up the wreckage from the floor
Softened leather boots stand by the door
She doesn’t bother with buttoning up
Out the back to riverbank dock
Old rotten wood a creaking
Leaving clothes piled on the pine
From rotting wood to dewy grass
To sandy shore to river’s edge
Wading naked into cold turbulence
Cold and clear the deep river glides

First over foot
Then muscled calf 
To upper thigh 
And tawny muff
Washing away love's slick silky secrets
The shocking cold 
Make nipples hard
as they dunk beneath the surface

Now clean and fresh the green-eyed pixie
In homemade frock a sun dress smock
Marie once again down on her knees 
Sets to clean up Miller’s salty leavings

On blouse and bodice and pantaloons
She starts to scour and does think
And smiles to self an inward wink
With pride, she giggles to herself
It is my fault and no one else responsible for my man’s creamings

A boat glides by the farmer’s boy 
Just eighteen this fortnight past
Checking cattle on lower fields
A surprise received in calling out 
A greeting to the fair Marie
Her raising hand to shield the sun
In doing so wind catching hold
Lays smock and all wide open

Two large breasts 
Two dark berries

Two plump nipples in sun-drenched glory
The farmer’s boy nearly falling in
The current quickly carries off again

Pity, she thinks, the sweet Marie
He didn’t drift by a little sooner
And witness her full and naked body
Caught in the art of bathing 

Smiling, knowing, with deep amusement
Soon he’ll be home
And in her mind's eye 
She pictures his fantasizing
Her breasts will be the featured prize
Of his stroking and fevered pumping 
Between my lips and these fine breasts 
His pants in a pile around his ankles 
A spurt of cum it’s Slowly dripping, sliding lazily then pooling
From my mouth to nipple ripe
To stomach and on to furry red patch
Upon pussy lips over velvety snatch
His penis he’ll long to enter in
And his pumping will begin again

Shaking out her fiery mane
Back to the work before her
Marie wonders if she’ll get the chance
To give perhaps more than fleeting glimpse
And as her thought turns to kneeling down
His trousers her undoing
A familiar tickle come creeping up 
And out on dock on sun drenched spot
Her fingers find the slippery fold
And thinking that she is all alone
They slide in dewy downy honey pot
Now it’s her that's thinking of things untold
Of naked standing should be so bold
And allowing fantasy to unfold

Strong back leaning against post on rotting dock
The memory of the Farmer’s cock 
And wondering if perhaps the son
Is also gifted with huge hard rock
For it’s known both far and wide
The Farmer’s cock, his wife’s true pride 
The largest of the countryside
For at the pub Marie the barkeep
Miller’s drunken head on table fast asleep
She sucked the Farmer one night not long ago
Into her mouth his seed did flow
When the time came for release
His lusty request was into her crease
But she feared he’s far too large
My arse no canal for this loaded barge
And so she kept him locked deep within her mouth
The throb she felt half down her throat
Drinking in a shot glass worth of semen

So lost inside her lustful dream
She notices not the wonton beast
The farmer’s boy did not return home 
But back up the riverbank he stole
And watching now beside the dock
Inside his pants his throbbing cock
Stepping lightly onto the creaking deck
Marie’s green eyes flash open

And eyeing the outline of throbbing flesh
Against the fabric it stiffly pressed
Marie beckoning  him forward 
One hand still fiddling down below
One hand skillfully untying the rope 
That holds his trousers immodest keepings

And to the deck, his trousers drop
Into the sun his manhood springs
Unto her knees, the ginger vixen once more arose
And did discover with not complete unexpected shock
The son exceeded the father in girth and strop
Oh well, the lovely red-headed Marie
With loving hand and mouth did think
Once more into the cold clear drink
I’ll wash off these salty leavings