Total pages in book: 8
Estimated words: 6777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 34(@200wpm)___ 27(@250wpm)___ 23(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 6777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 34(@200wpm)___ 27(@250wpm)___ 23(@300wpm)
The golden wheat swayed in endless waves, stretching to the horizon, while the air hummed with the drone of tractors and the scent of ripening crops.
Daddy and I worked tirelessly side by side as we operated the combine harvester that threshed the grain, loaded bales onto trailers that creaked under the weight, and repaired equipment in the heat that left us both drenched in sweat.
I loved it and hated it all in the same breath —a bittersweet feeling.
The isolation of the far fields, acres from the farmhouse and hidden from prying eyes by rows of tall corn or undulating wheat, allowed our sexual encounters to get bolder.
As dusk painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, Daddy and I found ourselves alone in the remotest section, loading the last of the day’s bales onto the trailer.
The sun dipped low, casting long shadows. My father wiped sweat from his forehead with his forearm, his shirt discarded hours ago and draped over the trailer hitch. His torso glistened under the fading light, every muscle defined from the day’s exertion.
God, he really was a living sculpture of strength and male endurance and masculinity.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away, my body aching for him despite the bone-deep fatigue, and the risk of getting caught by a neighbor or farmhand.
He caught my lingering stare, a smirk curling his lips. “Something on your mind, Polly? You’re looking at me like you’re hungry.”
I stepped closer, bold in the seclusion, and trailed a finger down his sweat-slicked chest, tracing the lines of his abs. “Just thinking about how incredibly hot you look out here, all rugged and sweaty.”
He grabbed my wrist in a firm grip, pulling me flush against him, his body heat radiating like a furnace, our sweat mingling. “Careful what you wish for. Anyone could catch us.”
The risk only heightened the excitement. “That’s exactly what makes it so thrilling,” I whispered, feeling myself getting wet at the thought.
He chuckled darkly, a sound that vibrated through me, and led me behind the trailer, partially shielded from the distant road by the bulk of the machinery.
Daddy pushed me against the warm metal side, kissing me hard and deep, his tongue claiming mine with possessive fervor. His hands roamed freely, unbuttoning my plaid shirt to expose my bare breasts to the cooling evening breeze, nipples pebbling instantly.
My father pinched them between his fingers, twisting just enough to elicit a gasp, the pain-pleasure mix making me arch into him.
“Strip fully for me,” he ordered, his voice low and dominant, stepping back to watch.
I obeyed without hesitation, shedding my clothes piece by piece. The shirt fluttered to the ground, and I kicked my boots off. My jeans and panties were next, and then I stood naked in front of him.
Daddy’s eyes devoured me, darkening with lust.
From the trailer’s toolbox, he retrieved a coil of thick, coarse rope. It was meant for securing heavy loads but was perfect for our purposes.
“Hands behind your back,” he commanded.
He bound my wrists tightly but carefully, the rope biting just enough to remind me of my submission.
He forced my legs impossibly wide and growled, “Don’t move, babygirl.”
Exposed to the elements and his gaze, the kink of outdoor bondage sent adrenaline surging through my veins—the possibility of being seen adding an edge of danger.
Daddy knelt before me, his mouth descending on my core without preamble, his tongue flicking relentlessly over my clit while his fingers delved inside, curling to hit that perfect spot.
The wind teased my nipples, heightening every sensation as he brought me to the brink, only to pull back, leaving me panting and pleading.
“Beg for it, Polly,” he said, standing and freeing his erection, stroking it slowly as he watched me squirm.
“Please, Daddy, fuck me. I need you inside me,” I pleaded, my voice carrying on the breeze.
He entered me standing, my bound position forcing me to take him deep, every thrust hitting new depths.
The trailer rocked slightly with his powerful movements, his hand covering my mouth to muffle my escalating moans, the other gripping my bound wrists for added leverage. The stars emerged overhead, witnesses to our frenzy.
The orgasm built slowly, intensely, and coiled tighter until it exploded in waves that left me trembling.
Daddy thrust deeper, his control fraying, and pulled out at the last moment, his release spilling hot across my stomach and thighs.
“So fucking hot, baby girl.” He stroked his cock from root to tip, squeezing the last drop of jizz from the slot to fall onto my belly. “Watch this,” he growled, his fingers gathering the sticky fluid, rubbing it into my skin in slow, circular motions, then trailing it up to my breasts, coating my nipples.
I gasped at the sensation, his cum cooling in the evening air. He brought a spunk–coated finger to my mouth, letting me lick it clean.