Role in the Hay

My name is Todd. I am a 'Middle America', male W.A.S.P. who having hit forty a couple years back does not like thinking about what the next big benchmark birthday is. Lynn for the past two decades has been my best friend, wife, partner, and playmate. As you might imagine the past year has been a little quieter than usual so I decided to go back into the archives of my memory for this adventure. In case you are wondering the title is not a misspelling, just a play on words. Role refers to roleplaying and to be honest of the many things stuffed into that barn's loft, hay was not one of them.

This takes place almost ten years back and was about three years after the Vegas trip that kick started our adventures. If this is your first time with one of our stories, for our tenth anniversary I stole Lynn away for a Vegas weekend and packed a couple, at that time, risqué purchases: a vibrator and fuzzy handcuffs. It turned out the mother of my children could be quite the submissive freak and I found I had a talent for tying her up and making her squeal.

This story was our first planned public sex, although I'm not sure if the locale really counts as public. But since we had are first 'almost' interruption, if not really 'almost' caught in the act moment, it might. We were visiting Lynn's parents on their farm.

Yes, Lynn is an actual Farmer's Daughter.

The Farm is located about three hours northwest of Saint Louis and we can get there in about four hours from our house. So when the boys were younger we would make frequent trips during the summer or holidays. This time it was for an extended weekend and we had arrived late Friday evening. Lynn's Dad had been wanting to take the boys to Mark Twain Cave and the youngest was old enough that Lynn okayed it for that Saturday. Lynn and I opted out using the excuse of not wanting to spend more time in the car. Lee, Lynn's Dad, was fine with that. He was in grandpa mode and did not really care if we were there or not. Louise, Lynn's Mom, was also fine but I thought I saw her give her daughter a knowing smirk although I hope to God she was just expecting a normal 'afternoon delight'.

That's an old song reference that predates even me, google it.

Since we were not going, the boys piled into Grandpa's truck, a King cab, and the foursome headed down the drive to the country road that lead to the highway. Lynn requested a call when they arrived to make sure they made it okay. Lee grumbled but acquiesced. It's funny how when your children become parents, you become the child again. Hopefully I am still many years from that, although Lynn is going be a magnificent GILF (G for grandma).

Lynn, maternal concerns aside, requested the call to give us a time buffer. The idea was that if something happened and they had to turn around we did not want to be in mid-adventure when they pulled up to farm. If they called after arriving we had an hour at least. But that meant waiting that same amount of time for them to call. That was a very long 74 minutes--Lee stopped for snacks.

The call finally came and was abbreviated. Lynn hung up and grinned at me. "I'll go change."

The game this time was "The Farmer's Daughter and the Convict." Said daughter, all alone on the farm, would come out to the barn and be caught by an escaped fugitive. I would blindfold and handcuff her, then have my way with her in the barn. Lynn said no toys and I was to use her however I wanted but I could not cum inside her. At that time we had not moved on to a permanent solution for birth control and Lynn did not want to go back on the pill. So apparently said convict would not have had sex toys but had taken the time to stop and get some condoms. But I figured he would also have an imagination so I packed an extra condom.

That was all I needed to do to get ready so I headed out to the barn leaving Mike, the massive black lab that accompanied Lee everywhere on the farm, inside the house. I did not want the company. The barn was about twenty yards from the house and attached to the fencing that went around the yard.

I should say that the farm raised cattle, and a few chickens, and not any grains or vegetables outside a small garden Louise kept inside the yard. But do not make my mistake when Lynn and I were dating and refer to it as a cattle ranch.

According to Lee, he was a Farmer. Lynn called it the Farm. Ranch was a term used for bigger operations; Lee had a little over a hundred head. I looked up the difference online. Farms grew crops, Ranches raised livestock. But Ranches are considered a subset of Farms. Not all Farms are Ranches, All Ranches are Farms. So technically Lee was, and still is, a Farmer. I realized quickly it was more of a Midwestern thing.

The Barn was massive, with huge openings on both ends, and a door on the side into the yard. Lee kept his larger equipment within including a couple small tractors, ATVs for getting around his 210 acres, and more implements than I had a clue of their use. The main floor served as a through fare for the cattle in and out of the barn lot where they stayed at night for safety and the rest of the farm where they roamed and feed during the day.

The loft covered about half the main floor, fourteen feet up and was accessed only from a secured ladder to the left as you entered from the yard door. There was also a pulley rig used to getting bigger items up but I did not see any benefit to its use for us.

Lee had a separate tool shed where he kept all his other work items and the barn lot held several three-sided shelters for the cattle to feed so the loft had become storage. Old furniture, Christmas decorations, and other oddities. As I mentioned, no hay.

Lynn had said that was for the best. Unlike what the movies might show, hay was not always the most comfortable thing to lay on, let alone be more active on. Although not as jealous as Lynn can be, I decided it was for the best if I did not know how she was aware of that.

I made a quick stop in the tool shed looking for a prop. A trowel, a small garden spade with a nine inch plastic handle, would work nicely for what I needed. I entered the barn from the yard and stood behind the door and waited for Lynn to come inside. I only had to wait a couple minutes.

When Lynn walked in I grabbed her, left hand across her chest squeezing her right breast through the fabric while I held the handle to the hand trowel against her back like the barrel of a weapon.

"Shhh. Take it easy and you won't get hurt. You alone?"

She hesitantly nodded her head.

"Close your eyes. If you can't describe me, then I've got no reason to worry about letting you go safe and sound. I just need a place to lay low for a couple hours...and maybe a little company to pass the time." I then took a white handkerchief I had put in my pocket, rolled it, and put it over her eyes.

This latest accessory went well with what Lynn was wearing. She had picked out a lacey white dress that came off her shoulders and stopped about mid-thigh. She also had on white sneakers and anklets. She had thought about just going barefoot but neither of us thought that was a wise idea around the barn lot. From grabbing her before I could tell she did not have a bra on and wondered if she had panties. I'd just have to check later and see if she was a wanton little Farmer's Daughter. Spoiler: in real life...she is.

I had gone with jeans and a white t-shirt. Lynn had originally wanted me to be in either an orange or gray jumpsuit. But I nixed that idea. If I even found one in my size--I was 6'4" and at that time had a bit of a Dad bod--I would never wear it other than for that game. It would also be hard to explain if seen unlike her dress which was just hot. I came up with the idea that she should be blindfolded, the convict not wanting her to describe him, and it would not matter what I was wearing if she could not see me. Besides, Lynn's imagination while blindfolded could probably come up with images far better than what we might find.

"Okay, this way." With the trowel behind her I guided her over to the ladder that lead up to the loft. "Head on up."

Lynn was hesitant at first, not aware we were heading to the loft. That had been my idea, it was more sanitary and a little more private. It turned out to be a good decision. I followed her up. I could see up the billowing dress to a pair of sheer white panties that did little to hide a shapely derriere and a smooth shaved vagina. I could not help but notice that Lynn's ascent seemed to involve a somewhat widened gait, possibly to facilitate that view. Best to let her know the view had been appreciated.

As Lynn reached the loft--the top of the ladder extended to the roof and a hatch accessing it--I told her to step off and joined her. Even blindfolded it seemed like muscle memory for her, even ducking to avoid the slanted roof. I stepped off and moved Lynn forward a few steps and over so I would not have to duck down.

I gave her a pat on the butt. "Nice view coming up."

I surveyed the stage for our game. The loft was maybe thirty feet across and close to that in depth. At the peak it was close to seven feet in height but slanted down to under five at the sides. On the outer wall, far side, was a window looking out onto the land in front of the house and the drive approaching it. Boxes and miscellaneous items covered most of the walls but left the center free for walking. The flooring was 2x12 planks fit tight and aged gray. A single naked bulb assisted the incoming sunlight to push back the shadows but in the middle of day it was easy to see.

I had not been up there in years and had no excuse to come up earlier in the day. But I hoped to find the one item I did remember seeing. It only took a second to see my figurative work table in the back corner. It might have been an ottoman for its size, about three feet squared, but it was easily two and half feet tall. I might have been a small table for its height, but it was lightly padded and covered in a deep, red leather. What it was however was forgotten. It was covered with a bunch of boxes marked canning supplies and a heavy layer of dust. Lynn has called it an ottoman, I refer to it as such for this text.

I took out a pair of metal handcuffs that had a quick release and pulled Lynn's arms behind her to fasten her wrists together. Lynn had been insistent on buying new metal ones instead of our fuzzy cuffs from Vegas. Considering I was having her focus on sound and feeling over sight I could understand that. The good news was the boys had not started digging in our bags since we arrived.

"Don't move, I don't want you to fall."

Actually that would be difficult. Lee had built a railing on the loft back when the first grandson had arrived even though said child's mother would not let them up there for years and still was a little antsy about it at that time. I was not as worried since Lynn would be more careful and also would have had to move back several steps to even hit the railing.

I went over and moved the boxes off the ottoman and picked it up moving it to the center. It was heavier than it looked. I pulled Lynn over to it and sat down in front of her to examine my bounty.

"Since we're going to be here for a bit together why don't we get to know each other?"

I grabbed the front of Lynn's dress and pulled down. The elastic pulled the top down her arms, exposing her breasts and catching on the cuffs leaving the dress top bundled at her waist. Lynn let out a practiced gasp but just stood there as I enjoyed the view.

If you do not have the picture in your mind from past stories I will gladly paint it for you. Lynn is 5'6" with an athletic build that had at that time gone a little soft but still fit. She had straight brown hair that she was wearing in a page cut and timeless bright green eyes behind the blindfold. Her face had high cheek bones and a pair of full lips that you will read more about soon. Her skin was very light, her breasts almost white due to too little exposure to the sun. With two younger boys, beach or swimming both meant a one piece that was completely covering and tan lines that started at the shoulders. Said breasts are between B and C cups, closer to the latter but she wore brassieres of the larger size for comfort. Slightly off center of each delectable mound was a silver-dollar sized areola that already began to harden at exposure.

I could not resist and brought both of my hand up to cup her breasts, playing with the nipples and feeling them get erect at my touch. I reached around and grabbed Lynn's rear pulling her to me so I could suck and bite on the dark pink nubs. After a couple minutes I pulled back, satisfied with the results. Lynn's nipples were pulled tight, extended easily half inch. And they were not the only thing erect.

I stood up. Lynn was forced to take a step back but still up against me. "Those are some top notch titties, but I feel bad that I'm the only one getting to suck something. How about I let you for a while?"

I pushed down on her shoulders, and also held her left arm to help her kneel down. That was a challenge while blindfolded and with her arm's behind her. When she was on her knees I unzipped my jeans and reached in through my boxer briefs to pull out my member. I did not even undo my belt. For my character this was just a way of getting my jollies. I put my penis up against her lips and Lynn turned her head. It actually surprised me at first until I remember the game.

I grabbed her chin and turned her back roughly. I pushed the head against her lips but they did not part. "Open up and play nice. I don't need to get my weapon do I?"

Lynn's mouth opened slightly and I pushed forward. At that time, Lynn was still working on her gag reflex so I stayed shallow, enjoying the feel of her tongue running under my shaft and massaging my frenulum, the feel of her lips holding onto the foreskin and sliding it back and forth as I moved. I purposely moved in and out slowly, not only enjoying the feel but the visual image of Lynn, topless, handcuffed and on her knees outside. At this point in our games we had only done a couple quickies out of the house. Having the time to truly revel in it was fantastic.

I pulled out. "This your first cock?"

Lynn flushed slightly. That was not just in character, it was Lynn. She nodded her head, a response that was only in character.

"Let see how much you can take." I grabbed the sides of her head and entered her mouth again pulling her onto me slowly, but steadily. As I've mentioned before I'm not a giant, I've got six inches on a good day...but it was a very good day. Lynn's nose was pressed against my denim and my glans at her throat. She was squirming a little but had not fought me to get off. Likewise, I could have pulled her all the way onto me and down her throat but I did not push the gag reflex.

"Good girl."

I let go and she pulled back coughing. I gave her a moment and then grabbed her head holding it still this time as I took her mouth, not deep but a little quicker. Drool began to build up and slip out her mouth, down her chin and onto her gently swaying breasts. Video was forbidden but I would have, and would still, kill to have that moment and the next couple minutes on film somewhere.

I sped up a little and Lynn added melodic audio to go with the angelic video. She began to whimper ever so slightly at being used. It was too much for me and I went into overdrive, ready for release. It did not take long and I was firing into Lynn's mouth without warning. What was more, we had decided I should abstain a couple days to build up to the game. Lynn had actually thought about a week but I was not that dedicated.

Since she was not deep throating me as I climaxed, the entire load expelled into her mouth. Not that it stayed there as she cough choked most of the semen out onto her chin and body. Normally I gave Lynn some warning before an oral cream pie. Now a days, she can tell by reading my body language. But I had completely caught her off guard. And although this had been part of my game plan she had not expected it.

I pulled out and she caught her breath. "Are you done with me?"

The question might have come from the Farm Girl, but the tone was my wife's who was showing concern that now that I had climaxed I would be done. Honestly, I was rarely that selfish, even to the point of having trouble when Lynn offers a freebie. Sometime building up to a second round could be just as fun.

I reached down for her arms, pulling her up to a standing position. I ran my finger across her chin collecting the mix of semen and saliva, opening her mouth and then putting it on her tongue. "Of course not. My first woman in ages and you think I'm good with a blowjob." I patted her cheek as condescendingly as possible.

I moved to the side and pulled Lynn forward to the edge of the ottoman. With a little wobbliness she got onto it, on her knees, then I pushed her forward...while holding one arm so she did not just slam down on the old dusty leather. I might be playing an abusive criminal but this was my bride. She eased down onto the old piece of furniture. Her face was pressed against the surface and her shoulders were scrunched together. This left her back bent over and her butt up in the air. I flipped the dress up and slipped the panties down to mid-thigh, again access was all that was required. I squeezed her right butt cheek and then ran my fingers across her labia. It took no effort to slip my middle finger inside.

"You're a wet little slut. And I see I'm not the first guy to stick something in here." Afterwards I realized that contradicted her earlier claims at virginity, but well the evidence was there...or rather, not there.

I moved my fingers up to her clit and gave it a quick rub that got just the barest of reaction. No problem. I knelt down and used my hands to first spread her legs then her labia. I leaned in and began running my tongue over her clit. Due to the angle I was only able to make contact with the tip of my tongue but this time I definitely got a reaction. Her breath sped up and it was not long before the Farmer's Daughter was starting to make little mewling noises.

I know with time I could have gotten her legs shaking but the position was bothering my neck and probably hers also so I wanted to move on to something that would get a quicker reaction. I stood up and gave her rear a slap. I walked back over the railing where I left the trowel and picked it up. Lynn had said she did not want toys for the game but I figured the convict could make do with what was around. The handle was oddly angled, a little longer than the dildo we had back home, a little thinner in girth, and had absolutely no give to it. I opened one of the condoms I had on me and slipped it onto the handle. Although the handle looked clean I was in a barn loft so I decided giving my wife a vaginal infection would probably not be in my best interest. 'The Horny Monk and His Hand' is not an adventure I would look forward to transcribing.

I walked back over to Lynn. I smacked one cheek hard, then the next. Each got me a whimper. I moved on to her clit, playing with it a little roughly until I got the quickened breathing. Then with no lube other than her own, I pushed the handle in slowly, rotating it slightly as I worked it into her.

"What are you doing? What is that?"

That was not the Farmer's Daughter. The exaggerated drawl she had added to her voice was gone. This was my wife who had what was probably a genuine mix of curiosity and concern. But she had not used the safe word so I kept in character.

I gave her rump a little pat.

"After you swallowing that big load I need a couple minutes before I'm ready to try the next hole, but no reason to have you just bend over and wait. Plenty of things in here that I can use to play round with you, maybe get you all hot and bothered for me. Don't worry, I used one of the rubbers I found in the jeans I stole so you don't get splinters."