Answer to Every Woman's Prayer

The sun was really high in the sky when David stopped working in the front yard. He could afford to have someone do it, but he felt like it was his yard, so he should be doing it. These days he didn't get the chance to work it as much as he would like. His business interests kept him pretty busy. As he walked towards the four-wheeler with all of his tools, he thought back to how it all began.

He had inherited the farm from his parents when they died in a plane crash 10 years ago. David had been 22 then and their death flying home to south Georgia from his graduation took some of that heady euphoria away. He already had a job offer lined up in his hometown working for Jenkins Electric prior to his walking across the stage. He was a small town boy at heart so he didn't long for the bright lights of Atlanta. So, armed with his degree in electrical engineering, he wanted to throw himself into the job. He had no siblings and his parents were only children.

Still, the funeral had been well-attended. Country folks like to pay their respects in different ways than city folks and the kitchen table was groaning under the weight of the cakes, pies and fried chicken that the church ladies brought by. Strangely enough, they always seemed to bring their daughters/grand-daughters/nieces by. The men came over, asking him about the farm. It was a pretty big piece of property, 6500 acres in all, with a stream running through the southwest corner. There were a good number of trees on the southern end that had never been harvested. Deer loved to bed down there away from the hunters at night.

That was what most of the men were asking about. A good tract of hunting land was pretty valuable, especially one that consistently produced some outstanding deer. David told them that he would honor his father's leases and to stop by in a week or so for new keys to the gates. That was first on his list of the things he needed to do. He'd share some of those duties with the farm boss. Harold had been a part of the farm for as long as he could remember. His father had served in the Vietnam War with him and they were as close as brothers.

When the final car left and he had the house to himself, he pulled his father's truck out of the garage and took a drive around the farm. His father did this each night as a way to get a feel for how the farm breathed. He had long believed that this land was like a living creature, and if you listened just right, she'd tell you a lot. So it was only right that he continue that tradition. Harold had been doing it since they died, but he had gone back to town tonight.

The Ford was in pretty good shape and he made the trip around the property in no time. As he headed back towards the garage, he thought back to the steady stream of people that came and went. He remembered most of them from high school and was surprised at the number of college classmates that came down. He didn't see Cynthia Hill, though. She was his high-school crush and unattainable. Even though she was married, she remained the source of many a late night jack-off session. In high-school, she had been the good girl. Her mother didn't let her date much and her father kept all six of his daughters locked down until they finished high school. They were tall and slender, but Cynthia was short and petite. She stood about 5-1 and weighed 110. The booty wasn't too big, but it looked tight. He knew of several who had tried to explore her charms, only to be shot down.

Most nights, he would stroke himself while lying in bed thinking about her, the one that got away. He had been lucky enough to run into her in Atlanta at the city library during spring break his sophomore year. He was studying for a engineering final and she was working on her term paper in history. She approached him and he could hardly believe it when she spoke to him. He knew her to talk to, but not well enough to approach her. Cynthia told him that she was spending her break in Atlanta with her sister, but needed to think. So here she was. Without asking, she plopped her books down and began to read. After a chapter or so, he looked up and saw that she was quite pretty and had filled out nicely. The denim skirt was above her knees and she was wearing a t-shirt and sandals.

He could hardly believe it when he saw her slide her hand down between his legs and felt her grab his member. It was about 7 inches when fully erect, but was thick, like a beer bottle. It wasn't there yet, but would be soon. She slid her fingers into his shorts through the leg opening and found his one-eyed snake. Cynthia looked out over the room like she was deep in thought.

Meanwhile, David returned the favor by running his hand under her skirt. He was surprised to find smooth skin and no fabric at all! Could Cynthia be a freak? No underwear could be explained by no clean ones...every college student had those days.