Choice Tales from the Vale – (507) The Grass Widow

 

In the north of Downshire is the old market Town of Nettlebridge which was quainter and more peaceful than its neighbour Nettlefield which was a Military Town, whereas Nettlebridge prospered from the sheep and wool trade, which is evidenced by the road names,  Sheepfold Street, Woolsack Lane and Shepherds Bridge, and this trade had historically generated a great deal of wealth.

This was of particular importance to the Robinson family because they were sheep farmers up in the high craggy hills above the Village of Oxley Ridge.

They had one of the largest farms in the county covering a lot of quite inhospitable terrain with steep hills and crags and deep valleys and bogs and the whole farm was crisscrossed with ditches and streams. 

So, on a warm early Spring morning youngest son Marshall drove one of their 8-wheel ARGO All Terrain Vehicle’s up to one of the highest parts of the farm to repair the drystone walls on their border with Watts Farm.

For the size of the farm and the nature of the terrain it was essential for the Robinsons to have ATV’s.

The Argo was perfect for them because it could climb very steep inclines, crawl over rough, uneven ground, streams, and ditches as well as swim when necessary because some of their land was prone to flooding and as sheep tended to wander, they would likely perish without an ATV to rescue them.

When they bought ARGO in was a drab green colour, but they painted it orange and black to make it more visible from a distance in all weathers.

It seated two in the front on a bench seat and was steered with handlebars, but it could seat more in the back if needed but mainly the back was used for carrying feed, lambs, or tools.

It also had a tubular steel cargo rack on the bonnet and a heavy-duty roll bar.

Marshall had spent the morning repairing a break in the drystone wall, then sat down in the sunshine with his back to the wall to eat his lunch.

He had just finished his second coffee and was preparing to pack everything away when he heard the sound of someone start peeing, followed by a sigh, a prolonged jet hitting the hard stoney ground, which he found strangely arousing because he was sure he knew who it was,  and he found himself wishing he was watching as well.

“Anything I can help with over there?” he asked as he stood up, making her jump.

“No thank you, I can manage” Emma Watts replied having just pulled her knickers and trousers up.

“Anything need wiping?” he added.

“No thanks” Emma replied.

Emma had the farm next door where she kept Angora goats, she was what was known colloquially as a “Grass Widow” meaning she was married but her Geologist husband George, but he was away from home 10 months in every 12.

“I thought it was a horse until I heard you sigh” he said.

“Very flattering” she retorted.

Emma was 27 and was remarkable in almost every way, attractive, tall, slender, leggy, busty, and too often lonely.

She loved her husband very much, but she had needs and Marshall was always more than willing to service them.

They were just about the same age, and they had got on well even before the first time he fucked her, which also happened when he was drystone walling.

When Emma initiated a sexual encounter with a kiss which led to her whorish moans echoing around the valley.

So, after starting proceedings he began to seize on the opportunity and had rummaged his way into her bra when she had second thoughts and turned her back on him.

“We mustn’t” she said sharply.

“But you were enjoying it” he pointed out.

“That’s not the point, I’m married” Emma said, “and I love my husband”.

He kissed her neck and began nibbling her ear and returned his hands to her yielding flesh.

So, she was stood behind the wall facing the stark scenery, hands braced on the cold stones, while he had one hand inside the layers of clothing fondling her ample breast and other deep in her knickers frigging her creamy fanny.

As he continued to stroke her quim, she was moaning rhythmically and the tone was as syrupy as her pussy until he brought her to climax, then he quickly debagged her before dropping his own trousers and taking out his cock.

Emma moaned as he rubbed his knob along her wet slit of her hairy cunny and her juice glistened on his bell end in the sunlight and he repeated this action repeatedly and each time her moan grew louder, then she could wait no longer.

“Fuck me for God’s sake”

“I was just waiting for the invitation” Marshall said and she let out the loudest moan of pleasure as he entered, and her velvet juices immersed his member like warm honey and she moaned audibly with pleasure as she gripped on to the wall as he pounded her pussy from behind while groping her tits.

Her moans gave way to hoarse grunts, growing ever more intense as his rhythm increased, until she screamed, and her body shuddered before he shot into her.

He left his cock twitching inside her hot pussy, and as she relaxed, she let out a long languorous sigh.

After a moment or two, he kissed her on the neck and withdrew his cock from her fanny and she sighed again.

 

As Marshall redressed himself Emma was still clinging onto the wall, periodically sighing as she lay in exactly the same position as she was when he pulled out of her and with each sigh her leg twitched.