Trespasser

I have been experimenting with some new grasses. I have one field dedicated to this. Some of the grasses are a little delicate in the earlier stages and I have the field posted to prevent people walking all over it. The delicate ones will probably fall by the wayside, as you need a certain amount of robustness, but a couple of them will make nice ornamental grasses for special areas.

So here I have this nice big field covered in various shades of green. Posted prominently on all four sides of the field are big signs saying keep off, no trespassing. As well as the nice field and the four big signs I also had this nice little bevy of young ladies having a picnic in the middle of the field, trampling over my young plants, scattering who knows what amongst them.

I strolled over to the women, and stood looking down at them. They didn't even bother to stand when I came up, just continuing to relax and enjoy their picnic.

"Afternoon," I said grumpily. You will notice I specifically refrained from wishing them a good afternoon.

One of the women smiled and wished me a good afternoon. The other two ignored me.

"May I ask if you ladies noticed the signs scattered around this field?" I asked. "Assuming that's your car over there, you'll have noticed one right next to where you're parked."

"So what?" asked one of the women. "We're not hurting anything. Some grump doesn't want people mucking around on his field. Big deal. It's not as though there are any animals for us to frighten."

"Well, I'm the grump and I want you off my land. Now or sooner. You may not be scaring any animals but you're interfering with my grasses and damaging them. People generally have reasons for putting up no trespassing signs. Polite people obey them."

"Oh, gee, we're walking on your grass. How terrible. What will we do? Let's all hang our heads in shame."

Sarcastic bitch.

"Do you know anything about the cultivation of new breeds of hybrid grasses?" I asked. "The reason I ask is because that's what you're currently damaging. There's a lot of work in this field, even if you are too ignorant to understand it. Pack your stuff and move along, please.""

"OK. You've made your point. We'll finish our lunch and then we'll be gone. Geez, get a grip on yourself."

"Apparently I haven't made my point," I retorted. "You have the sequence wrong. It's a case of be gone and then finish your lunch, somewhere else."

"Do you have any objection to us having a picnic in the next field?" the sarcastic woman asked, glaring at me.

"I don't. I don't own that field. The cows might but that's your problem, not mine. Oh, and if bull is loose he'll most definitely object but, again, that will be your problem."

The three young ladies turned to look at the next field and at just that moment the bull came trotting along beside the fence. He was a very large bull. There was a general shaking of heads when they saw him.

"Ah, if it's all the same, we'll stay here," said one girl nervously, watching the bull.

Just how thick could you get? Very, it seems, if you're female.

"It is NOT all the same," I stated forcefully. "The longer you stay here the more damage you do. I want you out and I want you out now."

"OK. So you've said. We'll leave in a few moments. No need to rush us. The grass will still be here when we leave. We promise not to steal any of it."

That was Miss Sarcastic sounding off again.

"I can't believe you're as stupid as you're trying to pretend," I told her. "I must assume that you're stalling because you want something."

I looked her up and down, stripping her with my eyes, letting her see I was doing it.

"I bet you're after some wild, no holds barred, sex with a hick farmer," I said while a nasty smile. "If you're still here in five minutes I'll give it to you. I guess it might be worth the damage to the grass."

The three of them looked slightly appalled.

"You wouldn't dare," gasped Miss Sarcastic. "We'd have you arrested if you try to lay one finger on us."

"It's not a finger I'll be laying," I said with crude innuendo. "I'm taking remaining here as permission and I'm letting you know that I'm taking it as permission."

"You're bluffing," came the disgusted reply. "No way would you dare. We'll leave when we're good and ready."

I shrugged. She wanted proof, I'd give her proof. I took a step to where Miss Sarcastic was sitting and pushed her back so she was lying down. Before she could sit back up again I had flicked her dress up and pulled her panties down and off. I stood up and stuffed them in my pocket.

"You're showing yourself," I pointed out to the scandalized woman. "Straighten your skirt."

Hoo, boy. They were all on their feet, yelling at me.

"We'll have you arrested for that," one of the girls hissed.

"Ah, ladies, who do you think the police are going to believe? A well known local farmer who requested trespasses to vacate after they ignored a posted sign or three young women who are making up stories so they won't be charged with trespass?"

Finally they started gathering up their things and moving off. When they picked up the blanket they'd laid down for a table I mourned for my young grass. I also decided that this particular type was just a little too sensitive to be a commercial success.

As they started to cart their things away Miss Sarcastic stopped, turned to me, and snapped her fingers, holding out her hand. I looked dumb.

"My panties," she hissed.

"Spoils of war," I returned. "Have fun and watch out for any breezes."

She stormed off and the young ladies departed, leaving me to assess the damage. As far as I was concerned that was the end of it. I strongly doubted that they'd go anywhere near the police. They'd been in the wrong and they knew it, and it would be too embarrassing to mention the panties.

I went about my work and forgot all about the incident. I was reminded off it a few days later. I was at home, relaxing, when there was a knock on the door. Answering, I was surprised to find Miss Sarcastic standing there.

"Good afternoon," she said. "Um, I'm sorry for bothering you but I felt I should come and apologise for our behaviour the other day."

That struck me as out of character. I'd have expected a 'fuck-you' letter as being more probable than an apology. However, I can be as civil and polite as the next man. I invited her in and we moved into the front room.

"I'm Ron Harcourt," I said.

"I know," she muttered. "Um, I'm Sylvia."

She followed that up with a fumbling apology. An apology that lacked sincerity and that I didn't believe for one second. She beat about the bush for a few more moments and then she came to the crux of the matter. She wanted her panties back.

I still didn't believe her. She seemed to be flailing about mentally, not knowing what she wanted. I decided that I knew.

"Bull," I said. "That comment about me raping you followed by the removal of your panties has got to you. You've come here to see if I really would rape you."

She was off the couch she was sitting on in a flash, her face red.

"You've got a nerve. What the hell do you think I am," she shrieked.

"Curious," I snapped.

I also stood up and was reaching for her before she could move. I grabbed her arm and spun her around and pushed her forward so she was suddenly leaning over the arm of the couch. For the second time in a matter of days I was removing her panties. This time I didn't step back.

I started rubbing her pussy, stirring her up. I could feel her heat, and worked hard at increasing it. She was squirming and protesting, but she wasn't exactly struggling too hard. When I stopped rubbing her and unzipped, loudly, she stiffened.

I had a nice erection and slipped it between her legs, rubbing it against her mound. She was moaning and whining, shaking her head, saying she wasn't here for this. She was making all the right sounds for a woman who didn't want sex, but she was still not trying to struggle.

I eased her lips apart a little and slipped the tip of my cock into her, pushing slightly.

"No," she wailed, while I pressed slowly forward.

She was ready for me. I slipped easily down her passage, while she wailed and protested and pushed back against me. Comfortably positioned, I started taking her, starting slowly but building up to a firm and confident stroke. She was gasping and pushing back against me, and it wasn't long before we had a nice little rhythm going.

I pulled out.

"Strip," I told her.

"What? I will not," she gasped.

My hand came around and firmly landed on her bottom. She gave a shriek and I gave her another spank.

"What did I tell you to do?" I demanded.

"Strip," she said in a quavering voice.

"Then why aren't you doing so?" I demanded, my hand landing on her bottom again.

She squealed and started stripping. I was amused to notice that her bra matched the panties that I'd removed. As soon as she was naked I pointed at the floor.

"On your hands and knees and make sure your bottom is nice and high," I commanded and she hastily scrambled into position.

"Now ask me to continue."

"I will not," she flatly stated. "You can't make me."

It turned out that I could. Three hard spanks and she changed her mind.

"That's enough. Please, continue with what you were doing."

Not exactly a gracious request but still a request. I settled down behind her, lined up and drove firmly into her. She, I noted, pushed just as firmly back against me, taking me deep.

This time we were into a nice rhythm almost from the word go. She knew what I was going to do and I knew how she reacted to me. This time I also had my hands on her breasts, rubbing them and teasing her nipples. She was almost purring as we came together, her arousal complete, and she was moving smoothly under me.

Once again I was enjoying myself immensely and she didn't seem to have any more complaints. I drove into her hard and fast, and her enjoyment was plain. She was building up to a high point, a climax was hovering close and she was willingly working towards it.

I was taking her hard, feeling her bounce eagerly beneath me, ready for the grand finale, so I withdrew.

She was shattered, all, "What? What? What?"

I pulled her to her feet, pushing her back up against the arm of the couch. Her legs were nicely parted and she was looking at my cock, hovering near her. She was pleading for me to finish it, and I moved closer, driving forward fiercely.

Her legs came up and closed around me, her bottom resting on the arm of the couch. I drove in hard once more, hands on her breasts, the pair of us hitting our rhythm almost immediately. Not that we were in that rhythm for very long. She was too close to the edge, as was I, and we both tumbled over the edge, enjoying our own climaxes, our releases washing us away.

"I'm disappointed in you, Sylvia," I announced, looking down at where she was slumped on the couch.

"What? Why? What did I do?" she demanded. "You jumped me."

"You didn't obey me when I told you what to do," I pointed out. "Twice I had to smack your tail to get you moving. That's not good enough. I think tomorrow I'll give you a proper spanking before the sex, just as a reminder for you to do as you're told."

"What do you mean, tomorrow?" she demanded.

"Just that," I said. "I expect you back here tomorrow at the same time. Don't be late."

She dressed, protesting that she had not come here to be treated like this. I let it go. She was going to be back tomorrow and we both knew it. I don't know how long this little affair would last but it would be interesting while it did.