The chill dark rooms with lofty ceilings and heavy old furniture were secretive places redolent of neglect and gave out an aura of hidden mystery. It ...ould have been haunted. It was certainly a place to be tortured in, incarcerated in, go mad in. Its gaping maw of a front door was obviously designed never to let people escape, a traitors gate, a mouth of hell. When the house had been built he was sure gangs of gnarled hunchbacks would have been installed on the roof to hurl down bucketful’s of. About an hour later, the daughter returned. Her clothing disheveled and straw in her hair. Straight up to bed she went.The farmer's wife was very observant.She then suggested that perhaps the man was thirsty. So she fetched a bottle of wine, took it out to the barn. And she too did not return for an hour. Her clothing was askew, her blouse buttoned incorrectly. She also headed straight to bed.The next morning at sunrise the man in the barn got up and continued on his journey, waving to the. Elena had small pink areolas, capped by small nipples. How I wanted to take it in my mouth, but I resisted. The sight made me hard as steel though. Elena looked down and saw her exposed breast, "Sorry." She said recovering it. I shook my head, "No apology necessary. I'm just sorry for staring." I said trying to be modest. "I'm not sorry you stared." Elena said with an interesting tone in her voice. Before I could ask her what she meant, she spoke again, "I wonder what time we're. She lifted up, trying to reach between them. "Let me," the shemale said. The small woman smiled at her over her shoulder. The shemale let go of Patrick's left leg. He felt her hand close around his drooling cock, lift it, guide it. The small woman pushed back. He sank halfway into her on the first thrust, making them both cry out. She eased forward before shoving backwards a second time, engulfing his cock entirely. She rocked atop him, fucking him in short strokes, keeping as much of him in.