I had beefed up, lifting at the gym, cycling 75 or more kilometers daily, and the strenuous work at the farm. I was tired of being fat. “Thanks Bail...” I winked at her and went on my way. Sometimes I truly am a don, at least I believe that I am. “I’m going to shower and clean up now, I have an important meeting in half an hour or so,” she called after me. I lifted my hand in the air and gave her a thumbs up as I walked toward the henhouse. After finishing my duties, I walked around the corner. I felt such a deep need to try and soothe away any of her fears.I broke the silence by asking, "Is there anything I can do?"There was a long pause as I caressed her skin with my fingertips, and then Crissy whispered, "You could rub a little bit lower."And I moved my hands down to the middle of her back."How's that?" I asked."Lower."I gently moved my hands down, to just above the waistband of her boxers.And she nervously whispered, "Please, lower."I had been sitting on her thighs, right up close. She grabbed it and pulled it to it's destination. My cock sank into her dripping pussy and I started to thrust. My face was still entwined with hers, my hands roving under her t-shirt to massage those pert tits, and rock hard nipples.I moved slowly at first; in and out. Almost all the way out before sinking back in full length. I stood upright between her legs, gripped her buttocks and started pounding hard. The kitchen was filled with the sounds of our pants and grunts, and the slopping of my. It was embarrassing and I couldn't wait to escape the shop at five o'clock. When I walked into the dojo, the Supernaturals in the room applauded, barraging me with demands for details. The humans were, for the most part, clueless, the story not having made it out of state. My father told me there had been a news clip about the rescue of the hostages but everything else had apparently been hushed. Supernaturals, however, had a huge gossip network that spanned the country, so everyone knew.