“No!” yelled the farmer “Don’t throw those away! My wife fries them up and we eat them, they’re delicious! They’re called sheep fries!” ...he farm hand saved the parts and took them to the farmer’s wife who cooked them up for supper. This went on for three days ... and each evening they had sheep fries for supper. On the fourth night the farmer came in to the house for supper. He asked his wife where the farm hand was and she replied “It’s the strangest thing! When he came in and asked what was. “Just bend over and take down your pants.”“You’re stalling, Mom.” He sobered.Looking away, then turning, my free hand dug into the jar for the last clods of oil. My hand reached behind me and placed the slippery lump against my bung. Before it melted, I pressed as much inside as possible.“Now I want to fuck your ass, again!” Andrew breathed harder. His prick half tented his pants.“Sorry, Andrew. You lost your chance when you told me to put this back inside.” I rested the dry flange against my. Keely tensed, her hips rising off the lounger, her voice a strained groan. With a gasp, she indicated the passage of her orgasm and Dustin backed away, his lips and chin shiny with the juices of his effort.Keely released my hand. "Oh, my, that was nice," she said, then turning to Leigh, said, "You ought to try it." What do you say, sport?" Leigh challenged me. "Your wife says you like pussy." I'm, uh, yeah. Sure." I replied.Leigh hitched her hips upward and pushed her bottoms down her thighs.. A while later, I sat up. The clock said it was almost 1 am. For almost an hour, all I had heard was the occasional sound of a passing vehicle. And that too, just a handful of times. No one had come or gone out of my building based on the total science. The world seemed completely asleep. And from where I saw sitting, I was nearly invisible to anyone in a viewable radius. Even with the dim light bulbs on. Okay…time for the next step.In one swift motion I took my t-shirt off. And was completely.