Emily Visits The Farm Ch 06

After the game of Truth or Dare, the four young people just sat talking, getting to know each other before drifting off to their beds. Saturday morning saw Liam and Sandy leave the kids in their parents' care for the day while Brent rode off to hang with his local buddies. Emily had a double shift at the hotel, so her day was completely shot. When she got home Saturday night, she found Graham and Lydia having a party with their grandchildren, so she went to bed early. The next morning she was up early around daybreak and found Brent sipping coffee at the kitchen table wearing a UMKC t-shirt and shorts. "Morning, Emily."

"Morning. Spare a cup?"

"Sure. It's gonna be a nice day."

"Yeah. You have a good time yesterday?"

"Yup, but it's not the same. Guess a couple of weeks in the city have changed me."

"That's what I thought the first time I went home. It's normal."

"Darn, I was hoping I wasn't. . .normal." She poured herself a cup and sat across from him as he fiddled with his iPhone. "Not much going on in the world this morning. Hey I wanted to do some drawings this morning when the sun comes up. Interested?"

"In what?"

"Posing for me. No, this isn't a come on: the blow job the other night was nice, but you're older than me, we hardly know each other, and I'm goin' back to KC after lunch. Got an assignment due Tuesday."

"Since you seem remarkably mature for you age, okay."

"You'll be naked."

"No problem, but no pictures online of any kind. A creep in Knoxville put my drunk, naked body on the Internet a few years ago, and he's singing a bit higher right now." She shivered at the memory: it was a sorority party and one guy caught her and several of her sisters passed out naked in the back yard. Even since, she was careful how much she drank.

"Message received. I can remember what you look like. How about we go behind the shed? That way nobody'll see us when they wake up."

"Fine." She went behind the shop, remembering the magic machine inside, and waited for him. He was a minute behind her, still wearing just his bedclothes and carrying an artist's sketch pad. "What don't you sit by that little tree? Prop yourself on your right arm, your left leg raised. Oh shit, it's too damn early, would you take your clothes off? Nice, real nice. Now look off at the horizon, kind of a pensive look. Fine, damn I'm gonna get an A on this. Too bad your hair's a mess."

"Sorry, I don't have a comb with me. Do you?'

"Nope, just have to be natural." The light was starting to turn the sky a series of lighter shades of blue and a red ball started to emerge over the Eastern horizon. "Great, I'm gettin' it. I'll leave out a few freckles if you don't mind. Great. Glad your nipples are hard. Damn, they're cute." He said the last bit under his breath, hoping she wouldn't hear him, but she did and smiled a little. His pencil moved frantically over the page as the wildlife started their morning boot up ritual and the sun rose. The growing light made her body glow, and for a moment she wished he had brought a camera.

They were undisturbed for an hour before the back door slammed and she scrambled to put her clothes back on. He closed his pad and put his finger to his lips before scurrying around the far side of the building back toward the house.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" Lydia said, inquiring her best matronly voice.

"Sketching, Momma." His voice was a bit sheepish: a kid who knew he'd been busted.

"Sketching what?"

There was a pause of several moments; she imagined he was looking down at his feet or off in the distance to avoid answering her. Why he didn't have a line made up, she couldn't understand. "Emily. She was posin' for me."

"Show." There was a pause. "Okay, I know you weren't doin' anything else, but don't show this to your Dad. You come on in the house and Emily can slip in when she wants. He's watching cartoons with the kids right now, so you're all right. I trust you don't have a crush on her."

"No, Momma. Got some prospects back in KC."

"Fine, I believe ya and I trust her." The last bit was louder than the rest; Lydia knew Emily was lurking out of sight. A moment or two later, Emily heard the back door slam again, and assumed they were in the house. From the sound of Lydia's voice, it seemed like Brent could never lie to her, which made her giggle to herself a little. After a pause, she came back inside and spent the morning surfing on her iPad.

The week was as full as the previous one, and Graham was gone the next weekend. When he came back, he had news: "Tricia's coming down next weekend for some debate and a little fun. She gets along pretty well with Lydia, but I may need you to run a little interference for me ."

"No, don't have to. She's going to KC to visit Brent and check in on Sherry's family."

"Oh yeah, Sherry just moved to Overland Park. Well, that'll be nice for them. Trish is fine with you being around, so I can let you be part of the fun."

"What kind of fun?"

Graham sat at the kitchen table after pouring a cup of coffee. "She likes clothespins, lots of clothespins, the cat and the riding crop. Not into stuff like the nail boards or anything sharp. A little juice is good for her, so she'll love the shocking tit suckers."

"What does she do for a living?" she said, pouring herself a cup.

"Oh, she's a professor of philosophy, Postmodernist, teaches at Hays. Argued with her in class a lot, she almost never won. She usually comes down once a month except in the summer, when she goes to England, the prissy little rich bitch. Fat hips and torpedo tits."

"You were in class together, for what, your MBA?"

"No, I got a Ph.D, too. I'm an Existentialist, we have more fun and don't have to deconstruct the world every day."

"Did you teach?"

"Online for about ten years. Something to pass the time. Anyway, I've got a busy week 'cause I've got to modify my machine to fill two holes at once, so I'll need your help this week in the shop."

"Did you write books?"

"Seven, but none are best sellers." He took a sip and asked her in a tentative voice: "I really need your help with the tools when you're free." She nodded her assent and he continued: "It's been a while since. . ."

She looked at him flirtatiously over her coffee cup. "Since when, Graham?"

"Since before our little family weekend. Lydia's tied up this week. Do you think you could. . .?"

"Could do what, Graham? What would you like me to do?'

"Oh, I dunno, maybe just give me a little. . .head?"

She sipped her cup and looked at him. "A little head? Hmm, let me. . .think about it. There may be a price." A quizzical look was her reply, his eyebrows arched high; she looked at him calmly and let him suffer for several long moments before she said anything. "Why don't you hook me up for a ride on your fucking machine before you take it apart? I think I can help you if you do that, maybe while you're doing it. Maybe I can give you a lot of head."

He sighed and they finished their coffee, walking across the back yard in the fading light afterward. The initial frame of the new gizmo was on his worktable: he was going to use a belt driven, steel vertical wheel to provide the motion. "Got a package coming tomorrow, Trish needs another monster dick for her ass."

Emily slipped out of her clothes after taking a spritzer of breath spray from her pocket. "What did you do to her before you got the machinery?"

"Oh, I'd fist her, front and back, after a nice workout with clamps and a wand," he said, as he got out his lube and started to grease up the dildo. "Doing both holes at the same time wears me out; her big butt really paid for that. She never swallows, but thinks dick juice will keep her face from wrinkling, so I have to give her a facial and watch her rub it in."

"Good thing I don't have to worry about that."

He rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Yet. Why the breath spray?"

"I heard guys like it when you do a spritz before you suck them."

"Really. We'll see about that. Get in the chair."

"Okay." She got up on the chair and settled her feet in the foot rests as he started the goat milking machine. Her nipples got hard as the engine engaged, and she sighed as the suckers latched on. His fingers played with her clit: she was already wet, but after working her with three fingers for several minutes, she demanded to be fucked and he got the piston going.

He watched as she rode the bronco, rolling her hips to increase the effect of penetration. The milkers laid down another layer of sound as they relentlessly sucked her nipples; she held them to her breast tightly. The first orgasm seemed to last forever, and she stayed in place for another ride, figuring she had to get the most from the session. After two orgasms, she was done.

She lay there for a long time in the quiet, gently rubbing her clit and nipples. "Nice, nice, nice." Finally, she bounced off the special seat and went to the couch, patting the cushion beside her. "Come over here and let me thank Daddy properly."

She squirted a little liquid from the small spray bottle and licked his balls a little bit to get him going after he sat down. First she sucked one, then the other in, making his squirm while she stroked his shaft. Sitting up, she looked into his eyes, taking charge of him, making him long for her to finally go down on him. At first, she teased him, giving the head of his cock a little lick now and then, cradling his nuts and licking her lips in front his face. Then she squirted her mouth again and took him in all at once, sucking energetically, running her mouth all around his cockhead. His response to her spritzed mouth was amazing: he gasped and flopped around like a beached fish for a moment before recovering himself.

"Oh my God, that feels good. I'll have to tell Lydia about the breath spray, probably buy her some. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damyum." She ran her tongue all the way around under his foreskin, then trailed down the shaft to get his balls. It took him just three minutes to shoot his load, and she barely got back up to take his shot in her mouth. For a moment, his taste was a lot like his son's, and that sent a shiver down her spine.

They went their separate ways for the evening, and the week flew by. Emily was getting along well with the kids at the school, and the hotel routine was easy for her, in spite of the occasional irate guest.

Mid week, Lydia texted her to meet for lunch. They went to a buffet: Lydia was relatively professional in her dark skirt, green blazer and white blouse, although one more top button was undone than proper. Emily was in a pink top and wrap around skirt. After getting their food, the older woman led them to an out of the way table. Bending over, Lydia whispered: "I don't know if you and Brent have done anything or not, but I trust you. You're older than he is, and I'm a little worried he'll develop an attachment for you. This something you've ever dealt with before?"

"Yeah," Emily said. "I have a little brother who's a pest. I'm honest with the guys I know, and I'm not looking for anything regular right now. That's up front for anybody who wants to know, including Brent. He's cute and I'm tempted, but I won't lead him on or let him get ideas that won't work out."

"I'm satisfied. Just wanted to let you know, after the sketch I saw. He's really good, isn't he?"

"Oh yes. I wish it were a painting."

They went through the line a couple of times and Lydia looked a little bit anxious. "Do you have to run anywhere after lunch?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"I'm feeling a little. . .pent up, right now. It's been a long time, and I've been having evil thoughts. Need to be punished. Graham's busy and I was wondering if you'd. . ."

Emily blinked and sat up straight. "I'm only an apprentice, you know."

"Yes, I know, but I need some release and you gotta start sometime. Any ideas?"

The look on her face was priceless: eager and pleading and embarrassed at the same time. Emily looked down the older woman's cleavage and could almost hear the ancient boobies begging her to play with them. "Well, if you've got some hair brushes and clothespins."

A quick nod, and Lydia reached for the check. As Emily followed her friend to the parking lot, she detected a little tremor in the older woman's step, an anticipation. They went straight to her apartment, and they rummaged through the kitchen and garage, getting everything they agreed would fun to play with.

Lydia unbuttoned her blouse and undid her front clasp bra, revealing her massive jugs. Before she sat down, she also pulled down her pantyhouse and panties, leaving her bushy crevice available for fun as well. Emily bound her friend to the chair, her hands behind her, pulling her back so her tits jutted out, putting a ball gag in her mouth and a bell in her hand. The older woman's eyes danced a little as they followed the young woman around the room.

First, Emily fetched a small bucket of ice from the kitchen. Then she took the large clamp Graham had left from a previous session and fixed the hugs churns in place, squeezing hard so they got extremely tight and the nipples popped out. A piece of ice teased the areolas, making the buds hard as rocks, before moving below to circle her clit and disappear up her love canal. The girl took a flyswatter and worked over the bound boos mercilessly, turning them beet red. Strands of saliva were trickling from the corners of the older woman's mouth, and she moaned through her gag in approval.

For a moment, Emily debated telling her that she's sucked her son's cock and thought it a religious experience, but didn't. She suppressed that by taking a pair of tongs and squeezing a hard nipple, turning it around a couple of times. After letting go, she repeated the procedure, then subjected the other nipple to the same torture. Two pieces of ice then went straight up the older woman's cunt, and Emily pondered what to do next.

A meat fork caught her attention, and the breasts were tight with pressure, so she played with them, pricking the skin. "I think these boobs are about to pop, don't you? Let's see if we can pop them." Of course, she wasn't going to, but the older woman's writhing as the sharp metal touched her sensitive skin was a wonderful sight.

The dish brush caught her sight next: it was made for bottles. Emily teased the tender tit meat with it before using it as a paddle, putting a forest of angry red dots on her friend's skin. "What if I put this between your legs?" Lydia's eyes shone, mostly from hunger and a hint of fear. "Let's see what happens."

The bristles tickled the skin of her upper thighs first, flicking a few times, before invading the crevasse. Lydia moaned in approval, and Emily got more ambitious, scratching at her friend's cunt lips. Still positive reaction, and she turned the brush with the threat of insertion. "Want to try this here? Feel these bristles scrubbing you out from inside?" After a moment, a slight nod and the young woman started gingerly introducing the rough edges to the older woman's soft bits.

One moment all was calm, the next there was screaming through the gag and hips bucking in welcome. Emily fucked Lydia gently with the brush as few times before the older woman orgasmed.

After Lydia was liberated, she kissed Emily on the lips. "You're doing well, Graham's a good teacher. Want me to lick you out before we go?"

"I'll take a rain check. I'm still recovering from getting pumped pretty good the other night."

"Oh yes, what you see in that thing I'll never know. Call me old fashioned, but I'll take Grade A Kansas beef every time."

On Friday morning, she got a message from Brent with an e-mail attached. "Here's to you, thanks for the A." The attachment was his drawing of her, elegantly reclining under the small tree as the sun rose. His pen strokes were amazing: it seemed she could see the sun setting her red hair on fire, and a drop of dew just about to land on her shoulder. A large red letter A was at the bottom of the page above his signature. For a moment, she was worried about this getting out to others, but a quick Google search indicated he hadn't, at least not yet. If he had, he was dead.

Tricia arrived around dinnertime Friday, and Emily met her and Graham at the Chinese restaurant in Dodge. They were bickering when she got there: "But Graham, surely you can see that every sense perception is subjective and has nothing to offer us."

"But without perceptions, we're not having this conversation."

"True. However, everything can be deconstructed, so ultimately there is no meaning to life, none at all. All there is in the universe is chaos, and the sooner we embrace that, the better off we are."

"But our sensations are everything. Without sense, there is nothing, and there's definitely something here, even if we don't understand it."

Emily stood before them and cleared her throat. "Good evening, Dr. Jones, it's a pleasure to meet you."

The older woman was tall: from her sitting position it was clear she was taller than Graham. She wore a sweater that she filled admirably, gold hoop earrings, and she looked like she'd just come from her beautician. "You must be Emily. Oh, don't bother with that 'Dr. Jones' stuff, my name's not Indiana. Since you're going to see me naked later you might as well call me Trish like Graham does."

"Particularly since you're going to help me introduce Dr. Jones to some new sensations that will certainly have meaning for her in particular," he cut in.

"Promises, promises," she said batting her eyes. "Shame Lydia can't join us tonight; I will miss her."

"She sends her regrets. You know how she feels about family, particularly her grandchildren."

"You're an old softie there as well, I'm sure. I imagine you'd be happy indefinitely sitting on the couch watching Spongebob with your little descendants." Emily snickered, and Graham glowered in response. "I rest my case. Nothing wrong with that, Grandpa," she said, gently pulling at his white beard.

"That will cost you, Trish, and you too, Emily. Although Trish pays tonight and I make Emily wait."

"Promises, promises," Emily cooed. "Remember, how I helped you this week." He glowered a little more, and she wondered how much his frustration would contribute to Jessica's ordeal.

After supper, they went to the ranch and went directly to his workshop. Tricia gasped when she saw the new machinery, licking her lips, but Graham put her in the middle of the room underneath a hook on a pulley hanging from a cross beam. "Punishment. Your wrists." She held her arms out, submitting to the manacles, and he reached up to hang them from the hook. Flicking a button, her wrists went higher until her arms were extended over her head. He unbuttoned her dress from the front, revealing a lacy black bra and panties on her huge form, her wide hips disproportionate to the rest of her body and her boobs threatening to overflow their containment. "Emily, take the flogger and sit on a chair behind her. You're going to spank her ass when I tell you to. Take your time, but turn it dark red."

He went to his worktable to fetch a huge pair of shears. Clacking them loudly, he walked over and snipped one of her bra straps, making one breast sag. After tracing the point of the shears on her chest, he reached down and snipped one side of her panties, revealing one hip. A huge smile lit up his face and he clacked the shears a couple more times, enjoying their metallic song. Then he cut the other bra strap and undid the front clasp, ripping away the underwear and letting her tits fall free. Her nipples got hard immediately, and Emily would have been impressed at their size if she hadn't seen Trudy's larger ones a month before. Her breasts stuck out a long way and hung down almost to her navel.