Its hard work running a farm. There's always so much to do at any time of year and just trying to keep up with the chores can really take it out of you. Working from early morning until late into the evening, seven days a week leaves very little time for any other sort of life, including, unfortunately, a sex life! I had known Ginny for what seemed like eve...
The Cherokee hunters and farmers were starving. All their food supplies were nearly depleted. The crops were bad, there was no game to be hunted, and even their water supply was beginning to run low. So the men of the camp got down on their knees and prayed to the goddess Selu for help. The very next day, she miraculously arrived. The mouths of the hunt...
Chapter 17 The Farmer's Daughter and the Traveling Salesman In those days with the roads rutted and washed out by the first hard rain, unless expanding their routes and/or enjoying being stuck in the mud, traveling salesmen didn't stray and venture out much further than a few miles past the city limits. There were plenty of farms bunched together near the...
As the newest VP for Western Districts Farmers Co-op, I specialize in dairy (Milk) products, it was no surprise to receive an invitation to the company's annual get together at the CEO's luxurious home. What was surprising was that the invitation included a hand written note from the big mans wife. The CEO's wife in immaculate copperplate handwriting, in re...
The settlers' third winter on the edge of our land was harsh, the river starting to freeze, the ground too frozen for root digging. I reported to my father that the white settlers fared less well and time for a new treaty. They'd arrived midsummer, wearied by the ocean from the "Old World". They sought friendship but difficulties arose since they now hunt o...
This is my Mission Impossible: a story limited to 750 words, tackling two issues with which I have a strong personal connection. An upfront warning -- this is a very dark story indeed so if that's not your thing, please move on. There is no BTB ending either. Unless you've been living in a cocoon, you probably know that much of eastern Australia is devasta...
Though the village had its share of gossips no one in the pub worried when Lisa, the 25yr old shy housewife joined the business-suited fifty-year-old man in a cosy corner. She was being friendly and anyway they knew her husband Colin would be along shortly. Often Lisa would arrive first to enjoy a quiet drink knowing the little inn would be full of people sh...
The Ewing Fairgrounds were dark except for the dirt tug pull track. There the lights shone brightly down on the farmers and their tractors. However, these tractors weren't for farming for the most part. Beneath their glossy coats of paint they had been tinkered with to increase horsepower, increase your chances to win. As usual the start was running late....
Cassie looked round her dining table. Her family was all together this evening and she felt content. Tom, her husband, sat opposite her. She felt a wave of masculinity emanating from him and enveloping her. She thought to herself, 'Here is my rock, the centre of my life, whose cock owns my cunt and has turned it into his home.' Momentarily she felt deprived...
Note- I do not own the rights to this British tv show, nor its characters, any resemblance is purely coincidental. Not to mention highly unlikely! xxx England, Cumbria, 1982. x Postman Pat Clifton was not a particularly handsome man but he had been blessed with a prodigious appendage. Big nose, big cock goes the legend, and in his case it was certainl...