Maybe for Christmas, hey!"And that was indeed our Christmas present. Well, mine anyway. I'd go first, plow the field as it were. But, that was no picn...c in and of itself. But, I finally persevered, and got it in there. I lasted, what six strokes and released a torrent. Got it back out and Tommy replaced me.It just would not fit. They tried more lubricant, nothing worked. I went down and took a look. "It's not even close." Girl, head on the bed---rump in the air: "Just jam it in."That got him. I strode across the room and then back toward the mirror on my toes, watching my thighs move and my calves flex, my mound and pudenda bulged and rippled nicely behind the unbuttoned fly, and when I turned aside I almost laughed at how well my rounded buttocks were beautifully encased, like a pair of soccer balls, the thin material pale on my yummy ass. It was enough to arouse anybody; it even sexually excited me, and I stroked my seething slit and petted my excited clit as I buttoned the fly,. Richiewriggled into the gap, wriggling and squeezing until all at once he wasthrough, outside, in the sun shine, free.Tottering along as quickly as he could in the heels he made his way tothe side of the house and peeped round, no one was in sight, he knew hewould have to cross the farm yard to get to the pathway through thewood, the path the old man had dragged him down on that fateful day.Looking and listening carefully he took a deep breath, it was now ornever. He went as fast as he could,. It was another long arduous task, cutting and collecting the stalks into shocks, tying them together for drying and later moving the shocks back to the barn for the final drying, threshing and milling. As soon as that was completed, I prepared the same land for planting field corn.However that would imply that the events ran smoothly along from one task to another and that is not how it went. Smack dab in the middle of the wheat harvest, one night Moxie groaned and grabbed at her stomach. With.