The seal of her lips around Winston’s cock gave way against the unrelenting pressure, dribbling streamers of wasted cum down her lips and chin. She...swallowed, urgently gulping, finally managing to drain her mouth and throat to gasp a desperate, gurgling breath of air. Winston’s back contorted into a straining curve as he pulled back and bucked his loins again, unleashing an even more powerful blast of cum. Jenny’s belly seemed to swell. Like a volcanic eruption, the hot lava of Winston’s. For some reason the image of Joanne in that blue dress with the buttons up the front is the first thing that comes to mind when I think of her. Betts and I usually wore jeans or Carhartts working around the barn. Grandpa reminded me often that I was farm stock and I learned to drive the John Deere when I was still sitting on his lap. I still couldn't reach the pedals if I sat on the seat, but he let me drive it to the field standing up. You didn't really need the brake pedals. The gas was a. Unbuttoning her shirt, she slipped it off, leaving her in a white camisole. I could see her bra through the thin fabric: cream-colored satin with lace along the straps. She turned around to hang up her top, and I admired the way her ass filled out her skirt. As she turned back around, she ran her hands up her sides to squeeze her breasts, grinning at me as she danced. She did a slow spin in place as she pulled the tank top up over her head. Dropping it to the floor, she cupped her tits again.. The look of urgency. As she remembered all this, and almost unconciously, her hands slid down over her full breasts and down between her legs. Slowly she opened them and ran her fingers gently over her clit. It was swollen and sensitive, and the first touch caused her to gasp. Her hands rubbed a little more urgently, and soon she could feel the wetness of her pussy, even in the bathwater. She slid a couple of fingers inside herself and began to move them in and out quickly. Aware only.