Going Down on the Farm(ers)

"Hey, I think you spell that "S-E-A-M-A-N" don't you?" Tim challenged.

"We're not talking sailors here, Timmy. We're talking about spunk...spooge. Don't you burp the worm and choke the chicken and shake the snake?"

"Huh?"

Roxie reached under the table surreptitiously and began to talk to Timmy in five finger lingo as he made the word "MILK" off the M in Sarah's "SEMEN."

As soon as he laid the tiles, Roxie used the N in "SEMEN" and did "NUTS."

"I'm not going to even...uh...uhh...ask...uhhhh...what that...uhhhhh..." Tim conceded breathlessly as Roxie made him squirt and spurt in her soft, friendly hand.

"Poor Timmy, did you bust a nut?" she whispered in his ear.

Jim took his L tile and put it between the A in "FELLATE" and the E in "SEMEN" and made the word "ALE."

"Can't you make any words better than that, Uncle Jim?" Sarah snapped at him again, this time extremely sarcastically. "And what does 'ALE' have to do with sex, anyway?"

"Well, way back when I was in college and single, I could persuade girls to have sex with me if I got them real drunk."

"Would you please get us another brew, Jim?"

"Sure, Roxie."

"What is this really good shit, anyway?"

"You're drinking Pious Monk Dunkel, Roxie—a surprisingly mellow dark style lager. It has a delightful clean and roasty aroma, 'eh? Low on the hop bitterness level. Sarah is drinking a Pipe Organ Pale Ale. Heavier on the hops, but the caramel maltiness balances its profile quite nicely. Only the best English hops—East Kent Goldings."

"Damn, Jimmy, the way you talk makes me hot! I love that fake English accent. Yeah, this lager shit is good, but I could still smoke a joint—yours. Since we're talking pipe organs and such, maybe I should play your skin flute?"

"If you wish, Roxie." Jim rose, forgetting he had no pants on.

"Oh my, Jim!" Roxie squealed. "You have a big boner!"

"That will be my word!" Sarah exclaimed excitedly, no longer worried about her next move. She did "BONER" on the E in "FELLATE" and then smiled smugly. "Hey now, those two go together, now don't they? What do you do for a boner? Fellate it!" She and Roxie cackled like two chickens about to get their heads chopped off.

Tim made the word "BOOB" on Sarah's B in "BONER." Roxie made "BLOW" on Tim's B in "BOOB." Jim made "LINGAM" on Roxie's L in "BLOW." Sarah made "QUIM" on Jim's M in "LINGAM." Tim made "GONAD" on Jim's G in "LINGAM." Sarah gave him an odd look. "Hey, I took a sex education class," he responded bashfully.

Roxie sighed dramatically, and made the word "SHAG" on her own S in "NUTS." Everyone looked more than a little bored. "Fuck SCRABBLE," she abruptly grumbled. "I'd rather do it than make words about it on some stupid game board."

She reached over and held Sarah's face in her hands. Softly Roxie brushed her friend's lips with her own. And then she really kissed her. They both stood and wantonly explored each other's bodies with fingers and tongues.

"Do you like that, girlfriend?" Roxie asked as she pulled her middle finger from Sarah's pussy, licked the juice off her finger and smiled wickedly.

"Yes, but I like your tongue better," Sarah joked seriously, if that's possible.

Roxie pushed Sarah to the plush oriental rug on the floor and knelt between her friend's long, lovely legs and licked, nibbled, and kissed, the inside of Sarah's thighs from her knees to her crotch. Softly, so softly. Roxie began to suck on her clit. Little sucks. Pulling on it and letting it go. Then she alternated the sucking with flicking her tongue all over and all around. Gently at first. As Roxie felt Sarah gradually respond more and more, she picked up the pace. Harder. Faster.

"Oh my...oh yeah...ohhhh yeah...ahhhh...my...damn...I...uhhhh..."

"Shit!" Roxie screeched. "I bit my tongue." Droplets of blood ran down her chin. She ran off to the bathroom to check it out in the mirror.

"Roxie!" Sarah called frantically. "Roxie! You can't stop now! Timmy! Get your ass over here. Get down and do me like you did Auntie Jane."

He did so as quickly as humanly possible.

"Dang it, Timmy! Not like that, you stupid snot! Auntie Jane liked the licking like that? Geez! You're not eating a whopper with cheese, dude!"

"Sorry, Sarah. Tell me how you like me to lick it."

She grabbed his slippery tongue with her fingers and put it right on the panic button. "There you go, Timmy, just don't try to talk."

"But...I...can't...uh...breathe...I..."

Sarah smacked him upside the head and pulled him down on her by the ears. She soon screamed in ecstasy and said words that made her Uncle Jim cringe.

"Dang, boy, you sure took me for some mustache ride," Sarah murmured appreciatively as she wound down.

"I don't shave yet."

"No matter. It's the principle that counts. Now it's your turn," Sarah said to her uncle Jim. "Would you like some?" He nodded like a woodpecker. The father pushed his son away and got down between his niece's legs.

"No, Uncle Jim, not that. I want you to fuck me. Let's bounce bellies and bump fuzzies, shall we? And after you fuck me, I'm going to fuck your cherry son. But maybe I'll suck him off good first. I don't want him shooting his sploit on me before he ever gets it in me."

Sarah pulled Jim toward her and guided the head of his cock into her ready, juicy pussy. Jim quickly rammed it in to the hilt. He hoed the garden like a horny whorticulturalist, jumping and pumping and humping, and bumping.

But Sarah pushed him out and off. "Easy, Uncle Jim, easy. I'd like this to last longer than a slam-bam-thank you ma'am. I better control the action, for my satisfaction."

Jim's cell phone sitting on the table rang just then. He reluctantly answered it. His sister, Sarah's mother. "I can't really talk right now," he insisted, staring down at his huge and hurting hard-on. "But yes, Sarah and I are getting along famously. Why uh...uh...we just did...uh...had...a wonderful dinner Roxanne prepared. And now...uh...we are playing SCRABBLE. You know how I hate to be interrupted while I'm...uh...playing board games. And yes, she is being real nice to Tim, also. Why, she just promised to...uh...well, listen I have to go. Call you back a little later." He terminated the call.

He hurried back over to Sarah and she directed him to lay on his back. Jim's erect cock reached for the sky. She covered him with her body and slowly began to slip his manhood inside her wet and hungry pussy. Slowly, so slowly. Inch by inch. And then it was all the way in. She leaned forward and arched her back and rocked on Jim's cock. "This is the trick, Uncle Jim. Don't buck like a cowgirl. Rock. Like this. Rock-a-bye-baby. Oh baby!"

"Hey, what about me?" Tim complained vociferously.

"You just hang onto your dick, Timmy," and you'll get your first piece of ass real soon, but in the meantime, why don't you come over here and put your cock between my lip gloss?" She didn't have to ask twice.

Sarah took Tim's cock in her hand and played with it fondly with almost a look of familial pride and love. Then she put him in her mouth and slid her moistened tongue over the head until her lips closed around the shaft just behind the corona, and began to slowly slide it in and out of her mouth. Then faster.

"Timmy, I'm surprised your pork hasn't popped yet," Sarah remarked, quite amazed.

"Roxie jerked me off under the table while we played SCRABBLE," he admitted sheepishly. "She gave me a better hand job than I give myself. I mean, she pulled my puppet like she wanted to tear the head right off!"

"Well, I guess we won't have to worry about premature ejaculation then, when you get a chance to dip your wick in the honey pot, for your first time ever. It will be even better than Roxie's hand, or my mouth. Promise."

None of them heard the knock at the door. That didn't bother the neighbor, the ninety-six year old Bertha, who barged right in, naked.

"Ber...Ber...Ber...tha—" Jim stuttered.

"Oh my dear God, Dad, she...she...she's...totally...naked!" Tim cried as he pulled his cock out of Sarah's ministering mouth with one long slurping motion.

Sarah slipped off Jim's pulsating cock and stood in shock.

"Damn right I'm naked!" Bertha squealed, delighted by the scene. "I've been watching you all through my front window with binoculars. And just why are you all naked and having so much fun?" she asked, fingering her sparsely covered with gray hair pussy. Oh, and you're playing naked SCRABBLE." Bertha inquired, bemused. "What's this word on the board. 'QUIM'? What's that?"

Jim and Tim looked at each anxiously as they stroked their cocks with gusto, both so totally eager to shoot a really big wad down someone's throat or other bodily orifice.

"Son, you're going to have to blow me if I don't get some relief soon," Jim whined.

"I'll suck your dick if you suck mine, Dad."

"Quim is your angel smile, Bertha," Roxie advised. "You know—your dick garage. A vertical taco. The whisker biscuit."

"Oh, I have one of those!" Bertha squealed. "But it hasn't been a dick garage for many, many years. More than forty, I think, when my husband died."

Bertha had her cell phone with her and started to make a call.

"Who are you calling?" Jim asked.

"The police," she replied. "You all are disturbing the peace."

"You're the one who is disturbing the piece," Tim blubbered, and it's my very first one.

"Bertha, I thought we were friends," Jim said, confused by her apparent hostility.

"We can be friends—fucking friends. You two guys make my quim quiver and quake and I won't call the cops," Bertha offered matter-of-factly. "I want a...uh...I want...uh...an..."

"Orgasm?" Jim suggested.

"Well, hell, it's been almost a half century," Bertha bitched. "Can't I have one last wish before I die?"

"Sure, honey," Timmy readily agreed. "I'm so horny I'd screw a donut. Without the hole. I'll make my own."

"Uh yes, hormones," Bertha sighed. "I wish I still had some."

"Don't worry, baby," Tim encouraged, "I've got enough hormones for the both of us."

"Promises, promises," Bertha said hopefully.

"Tim, go get the K-Y Jelly from the medicine cabinet," the father ordered. "I think the quim might be a little dry."

But not for long.

"Bertha, do you have a will?" Roxie asked while they waited on Tim and the K-Y.

"Why...uh...no. I don't really have all that much. Just the house. I quit driving years ago and sold my car. I do have an old trunk full of silver dollars that my late husband collected. He didn't believe in banks."

"Here, take a couple of these pills," Sarah suggested. "I'll help you write a will while Roxie gets you ready for some...uh...uh..."

Bertha pointed to the word "SHAG" on the board.

"Exactly!" Sarah cried. "See, you never forget. Just spread your legs and scream 'Oh baby!' over and over. It's not like this is rocket science and subject to technological innovation. Doing the funky monkey has been basically the same since the time of Adam and Eve."

"Yeah, just ride the bologna pony," Roxie added. "Take the old one-eye to the optometrist."

Roxie got her vibrator and gave Bertha a buzz. She told Tim to liberally apply the K-Y.

Bertha sealed her fate when she took her false teeth out and her moustache made Jim feel like he was fucking a pussy.

But Tim's raging hard-on turned limp. "Dad, can we turn out the lights?"

"Sure, Son. Like you said—they all look the same in the dark. Me, I'm just closing my eyes. But whatever works for you."

And then Jim bent Bertha over. And then Tim bent Bertha over. And then Bertha fell over, stone cold dead.

They all helped write her obituary.

"Bertha Madison, age ninety-six, died happily in bed. Bertha had no living blood relatives but she is survived by her neighbors and good friends Jim and Tim, and her adopted nieces Roxie and Sarah. In her later years Bertha's favorite activity was bird watching and she spent many hours at her front window with binoculars."

"But Sarah, Bertha didn't die on the bed," Roxie complained. "She was on all fours on the oriental rug by the bed with her wrinkled ass up in the air."

"Close enough, Roxie, close enough. Jim and Tim put her on the bed after she croaked."

"Yeah, so they did," Roxie conceded. "I still can't believe that little shit Timmy wanted to fuck her again as rigor mortis began to set in."

After the funeral and Bertha's body was laid to rest, Roxie searched frantically in her purse as they returned in the funeral car. She looked at Sarah suspiciously. "Where the fuck is my vibrator?"

"Bertha took it with her," Sarah whispered, as the driver looked back at them.

"Shit," Roxie pouted. "Something about funerals turns me on, ya know?"

"Me too. We should go down under," Sarah cooed.

"Yes we should indeed," Roxie agreed enthusiastically.

They both lifted the fronts of their black mourning dresses. No panties.

"Don't mind me," the driver commented stoically. "I'm not into the hatchet wound that never heals. If you two had one-eyed spit monkeys, I might be inclined to watch. Thanks, but no thanks, I'll keep my eyes on the road."

* * *

No, Sarah and Roxie didn't spend the summer with Jim and Tim after all. Jim and Tim really didn't need them because Bertha left them enough money for a butler, a cook, and two French maids. Roxie got a boob job and Sarah traded the car for a Boxster S. The two girls had enough money left for a trip down under to Byron Bay, Australia. They spent the rest of the summer frolicking nude on one of the most famous beaches in Australia, and of course going down under.

* * *

Author's Note: If you list me as one of your favorite authors, you can easily tell when I have new stories.