In my defense, his was the only human cock within a five-mile radius.

I was used to a cornucopia of horny teenage boys to pick and choose and tease. I had even more attention when my porno video was exposed, more offers than I ever wanted.

Right now, all I had was Jacob, my Aunt Carol’s rugged but softspoken husband. And that was fine by me.

I suspect we were both starving for a little fornication.

My sadistic Aunt Carol had been working me like a migrant worker—cleaning the barn, sweeping the house, milking the goats. Uncle Jacob saw how exhausted I was. When Carol wasn’t nearby to eavesdrop, I asked him to take me away, anywhere. He said he was going up the hill to relax. I invited myself and made it a picnic. He was happy to go.

He liked going on outings with me. Or maybe he just liked doing me favors. Whenever I wanted to go into the city to shop, he’d drive. When my creaking bed needed fixing, he fixed it. When I needed them to boost their shitty rural WIFI for my online school, he got it done. And whenever I needed to get away from Carol and her country music, he obliged.

So, it was just us—Jacob and his cowboy hat, me in my pastel blue dress—and Lucille, the Jack Russell terrier dog. We had corned beef sandwiches, a side of deep-fried dumplings from yesterday, some hand-picked apples, and a six-pack of beer in a basket I was carrying. Add my farmgirl braids, and I was like Dorothy from Kansas.

Except I was eighteen-year-old Persephone from Elmhurst, Illinois, Aunt Carol’s wayward niece driven out of that city by relentless teasing and jealous bullies, and vicious rumormongers. To get me away from the drama, my mother sent me here with instructions to finish online school and never make porno videos again. I left behind the hustle and bustle of a large cutthroat high school for the clucking of chickens, the bleating of goats, the neighing of horses, and the eerie evening quietude of this small dairy farm.

Jacob and I trudged up the hill.

When I nearly tripped on a rock, he took my hand. I held on to it as we kept on walking. He was more than a foot taller than me. He grinned down at me, liking the way we were holding and swinging hands. I smiled back up at him, this older guy in a fedora, very different from the teenage boys and their dandy dads back in Elmhurst.

Lucille hurried us along to Jacob’s favorite spot, shaded by a big tree. After we ate and joked about Carol, he lied back to relax. I laid my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his chest rise and fall with my hands on his stomach.

And I touched it.

Very casually, as if I was simply adjusting myself next to him, my hand just happened to, oopsie, slip down there.

He didn’t react.

Green light, Persephone!

So, I caressed it, letting my fingers circle that ever-growing bulge.

He sighed.

“Percy?” he said.

I lifted my head and looked at him innocently. “Yes?”

“Um, your hand…”

“What?” I said. I squeezed my fingers. I looked down at my hand as if I didn’t know where it was. I gasped. “Oh, my God!”

He laughed. He expected me to remove the hand. I didn’t.

“That’s okay,” he said.

“Sorry,” I said, but, still, I didn’t remove it.

“Maybe you should…” he said.

He put his hand on top of mine. We were staring at each other. He picked up my hand. Our fingers played. I returned my head to his chest.

“You started it,” I said.

“I did what?” he asked, incredulous.

I chuckled. I returned my hand to his fading bulge and began waking it up again. “It was all you, Jacob.”

He denied it, but I reminded him of that time Aunt Carol gathered the family to take a photo for her church’s newsletter last week. I stood next to their daughter, my dutiful, baby-voiced seventeen-year-old cousin Katylynn. Jacob stood right behind me, with his signature cowboy hat. I’m not sure who bumped into who. But my butt and his crotch brushed up against each other. I shifted. He shifted. And I felt the bulge again. Carol commanded us to stand still. He put a hand on my hip to steady me. Between shots, my butt and his cock kept moving towards one another, as if drawn together like rare earth magnets.

Carol and Katylynn didn’t notice. They were focused on getting Lucille to cooperate. The third time I bumped back into him he had a full-on hard-on. Aunt Carol wanted to know what I was grinning about.

Jacob was still trying to deny it.

“It was a total accident,” he said while we lay there on the blanket.

“Aww,” I said. “I thought you were hot for me.”

“No, no, absolutely not,” he said.

But his body contradicted that. My hand was back on his erection, stroking it, fondling it as best I could over his denim. I sat up next to him. He looked up at me while caressing my arm. I bit my lip and looked at him mischievously as I reached for the brass buckles of his belt.

“Percy…” he groaned.

Why was he fighting me? The boys at Elmhurst would’ve ripped their pants open and ejaculated prematurely by now.

I popped open his buttons. I unzipped his zipper. Then he grabbed my wrists.

“What?” I said, annoyed.

“I don’t think we should,” he said.

“Come on,” I said. “You’re male. You know you want it.”

He scoffed. “That’s just sexist.”

“How often do you…whatever…with Aunt Carol?” I asked

“Do what? None of your business.”

I pouted and glared at him. He chuckled with amusement.

I reached for his fedora. He tried to pull away, but I grabbed his hat and put it on my own head. I did a little cutesy shoulder pose that he liked. I leaned over his face and gave him a kiss on the lips. He kissed back. His mouth opened. I slid my tongue in.

This was not our first kiss.

That was two weeks ago in the goat house. I was in my cropped tank and denim shorts. Aunt Carol was in her mom jeans. Aunt Carol liked to give me a long list of verbal instructions, wait for me to screw up, and then yell at me for not learning fast enough. How did she expect a city girl to know how to milk a goat? But Jacob saw me struggling, squatted behind me, reached around me with his big fatherly arms, took Becky’s teats from me, and showed me how to properly squeeze the milk out. He did it, then we did it, and then I did it.

That’s how you teach someone, Aunt Carol!

And I looked back at Jacob full of gratitude, his stubbled face all close to me. Who did it first? I don’t know, or I won’t tell, but anyway we kissed on the lips for the first time. I touched his face with my milk-stained hands. He squeezed his muscley arms around my bare navel. And we kept kissing.

“Don’t tell Aunt Carol,” he whispered to me back then.

“Don’t tell Aunt Carol,” I said again today while I snaked my hand inside Jacob’s boxers and grabbed a hold of his hardened, throbbing, veiny cock.

He didn’t stop me.

I scooted down to get my head closer to his cock.

He still didn’t stop me.

I brought my lips to his cock and kissed it.

He sighed.

I moaned as if his warm cock tasted so good and kissed it again up its shaft.

He took off my hat and put it aside. He wanted to touch my head and my braids while I smothered his cock with wet kisses. Lucille raised an eyebrow as she watched us. I held Jacob’s boner with both hands and licked it back and forth, back and forth.

He exhaled heavily.

I grabbed his balls, and his breath got shaky.

I stood the cock up straight and tall and shook it in the breeze. I giggled and he chuckled at me.

I adjusted myself, ready to insert my first middle-aged cock into my teenage mouth.

“No, Percy,” he said, anguished. “Don’t do it.” He turned to his side, away from me.

“What the fuck,” I wanted to say but didn’t. I had to try and understand how devoted he was to his sexless marriage, how good a father he was to his goody-two-shoes daughter, and how he was a decent churchgoing farmer. Or at least that’s the image he’d been cultivating, which was hogwash to a cynical city girl like me. I knew he wanted me. How much push did he need?

I was ready for this.

After a moment, he turned around to say something. But I was on my back, playing with the lacy hem of my dress, slipping it up and up my thighs until he caught a glimpse of pink polka dot panties.

“Remember these?” I asked.

He was mesmerized.

The same way he was mesmerized when he saw me on the patio floor once a month ago, surrounded by Lucille’s puppies, all of them kissing and licking and nibbling at me with their little baby barks, tugging at my oversized T-shirt, their stiff little tails wagging playfully. It started off cute, but they were overwhelming me. I yelped and rolled around the floor. I saw Jacob and cried out for him to come save me. Instead, he stood back laughing.

Until one or two of the puppies started yanking my shirt up.

Then he saw polka dots.

He stopped laughing. I had my eyes closed trying to avoid puppy tongues. But when I got my face free of puppies, I saw Jacob staring down at my exposed pink panties. I removed a little puppy that was nuzzling me between my legs and let Jacob have a full view of the panties. We shared a look. I touched the little bow on the panties. He looked again, his lips parting. I started opening my legs more. Then I covered up quickly when I heard Aunt Carol and Katylynn coming to gather up the puppies.

Carol admonished me for wearing so little. But I bet you anything while Jacob was lying in his cold bed next to Carol that night, he was dreaming of me in my polka dot panties all barefoot and helpless and writhing on the floor.

I was wearing those same panties this afternoon.

Instant recall.

He came to me. But as he came, he said, “Don’t feel obligated to do anything you don’t—”

I cut him off with a kiss. He lost his resolve. His hands went right for my exposed thighs, right for the crotch of my underwear, right for the lips of my pussy. He slid his tongue into my mouth. He grabbed my head and held me as he kissed me. He pressed his fingers against my pussy. I could hear little groans.

Yes! Now there was the passion I was looking for.

I held his face. He groped my breasts. I kissed his face. He grabbed my panties. I let go of his face and started peeling the panties down.

Lucille started barking at us.

Jacob helped me get the panties down my legs quickly along with my sandals and threw them aside. He positioned his chiseled face between my legs. He nuzzled my pussy before kissing it, licking it, nibbling it, slurping on it. He penetrated me with a finger while flicking my nub with his tongue. He spread my legs, rather roughly, to give himself more room to attack my pussy. He even lifted my legs in the air to get more of me, nearly sticking his tongue into that other opening.

In a deft wrestling move, I locked my legs around his neck and twisted him back onto the blanket. I was on top of him now, smothering his face in pussy, his facial hair bristling against my skin. I covered his head with my dress and bounced on his face. He was laughing, his voice muffled, enjoying it.

I lifted my dress and turned around, still drowning his face in pussy. Facing the other way now, I bent down and had to crane my neck to get the tip of his cock back into my mouth.

It was a cute sixty-nine moment, teeny me atop this giant, under the shade of a tree, with a breeze on my face, a cock in my hand, and his lips and tongue between my legs.

Suddenly, I spasmed.

I gasped.

I had to lay my forehead down on his belly.

I was cooing and panting.

And trembling.

It wasn’t just his tongue on my pussy getting me worked up. The way he was gripping my thighs, digging his fingers, groping, spreading my butt cheeks. The way he was grunting or groaning and those slurpy sounds he was making. The way he had resisted me for so long but was now finally going full beast mode on me.

Now I was whimpering and gasping and shaking.

He gave my thigh a slap. I stopped moving. I gripped his cock, closed my eyes, and orgasmed.

Loudly.

The noisy birds in the tree above us went quiet.

I tried to crawl away. He didn’t let me. He yanked me back in place and wiggled his face into my pussy and kept at it. Things were getting blurry.

I sat up, smooshing my pussy on him, and cried out, before collapsing down again, groaning, holding his thighs.

I don’t think I ever really, truly, orgasmed with the boys in Elmhurst.

I just did twice right here on this blanket with my auntie’s hubby.

I felt like such a slut…but a happy slut.

He finally let me go. I moved my pussy from his mean and wondrous tongue and crammed his cock back into my mouth. I was desperately, embarrassingly hungry for it. Some strange sounds were coming out of me.

I wanted to go full cowgirl on him and fuck the bejesus out of him, but he gasped, jolted up, and came suddenly, cum shooting inside my mouth. I released his cock. Saliva and more cum spilled down his cock.

At least I didn’t stain the pretty Dorothy dress Katylynn had given me.

Out of breath, I looked at him, cum dripping from my open mouth. He sighed and looked at me, his face wet as well. I swallowed his cum. He touched my face. I snuggled into his hand. Then I moved towards his face. I licked up all the juices off his face and then kissed him.  

Lucille strolled over for a face lick as well but made a show of not liking it.

We laughed at that.

I wanted to stay the entire afternoon and cuddle and play and fuck some more, but he had work to do. We prepared to return to the house. He rolled up the blanket. I picked up the basket. Lucille ran on ahead of us.

“Hold my hand again,” I begged.

He chuckled and took my hand. I skipped along next to him.

“That was so fucking fun,” I declared.

“Don’t curse like that,” he said sternly.

I gave him a sad face and said, “Yes, dada.”

He laughed. Then he added, “But it was fucking fun.”

I laughed as we swung our arms and walked.

“And very wrong,” he added.

I clicked my tongue. “For fuck’s sake,” I muttered.

“I don’t want you thinking I’m exploiting you or using you,” he said.

“I don’t, jeez,” I said.

“Keep this hush-hush, okay?” he said.

“Yeah, no shit,” I replied.

He let go of my hand as we neared the house.

Of course, he was nervous about getting caught. Aunt Carol was a rigid and mean and tight-assed witch. But Jacob was devoted to her, like a faithful prisoner.

I decided it’d be my mission to fuck Jacob.

More than once.

In a variety of ways.

And get him hooked on my pussy.

Take that, Aunt Carol.