Going Down On The Farm Ers

The funeral sucked.

"But then, they usually do," Sarah muttered as she wiped the streaming tears from her misty deep-blue eyes.

Uncle Jim's wife, Caroline, had been loved by all, which made the grief almost unbearable. Lou Gehrig's disease had turned a vibrant, beautiful, intelligent, loving woman into a vegetable and then a corpse.

As Sarah's family drove home, her mother couldn't stop weeping.

"Caroline is in a better place now," Sarah's father consoled. "She's up in heaven with the angels."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Sarah?"

"What do they do up in heaven?"

"Well, there's no sex in heaven. So I guess they play cards or SCRABBLE or something."

"Daddy, the Bible says there is no marriage in heaven, not no sex. Reverend Jackson told me that's to make up for all the...uh...confusion about fornication down here on earth There's lots of blessed sex up in heaven. There's even sex down in hell. But it's damned in Satan's nether world, and they get STD's, according to Reverend Jackson. And all the fallen angels who had sex with human women have genital herpes."

"Honey, I don't like that church you've been attending. They're more liberal than the UU's."

"Ewe Ewes? I never heard of that church, Daddy. Is it in West Virginia? I heard a lot of funny stuff goes on there. You know, like incest and...bestiality—shagging sheep."

"Honey, I'm talking about the Unitarian Universalists. What I don't like about Reverend Jackson is that I heard he accepts gays into his church, and preaches that masturbation is not a sin."

"Oh shit," Sarah whispered to herself, "I hope he didn't see my new vibrator on the night stand when he came in to wake me up this morning."

"Sarah?"

"Yes, Mom?"

"Your father and I have been talking. We think you should spend the summer with Uncle Jim. He needs someone to...uh...help out. Cook, clean, that sort of thing. I mean, Jim has that big dog farm to run. He would never ask, but I think that's the least we can do, don't you? And your cousin Tim needs the loving care of a woman."

Sarah looked like she might regurgitate.

"Timmy is such a nerd!" Sarah blurted. "I don't really want to be his mother, ya know? Can't you hire someone? Don't they have surrogate mothers or some such thing?"

Sarah reminisced about a funny story her late Aunt Caroline told about Timmy and how she breast fed him until he was seven. He would pester her at the most inopportune times in stores and everywhere else with, "I want the breasty!" The way he stared at Sarah's bosom at the funeral, she thought he still had "Got milk?" on his mind. I should have worn a bra, she surmised.

"But you're his flesh and blood, Sarah," her mother admonished.

"So are you, Mom. Jim is your brother. And Tim is your nephew. Why don't you do them...uh...I mean...be their maid or cook or whatever."

"Because I have to work. You have nothing planned for the summer but sleeping until noon, beach bumming and partying."

"Yeah, so? I need a break. Last semester was tough. But I made the Dean's List didn't I? High honors, too."

"Yes, that you did, Sarah," her father agreed, "We're very proud of you."

"Okay then, it's settled, I'm not going to spend the summer with Uncle Jim and Cousin Tim!"

"Sarah, you keep insisting you need a new car," her father bribed.

"Yeah, well, I told you Daddy, I need a sports car. I mean, do I look like Ford Focus material?"

"What rhymes with Porsche?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

"Uh...of course?"

"So you'll do it?"

"For a Porsche—of course—a Boxster. Basalt black metallic exterior. Graphite grey/ black interior."

"I'll buy you new floor mats for your Focus."

"Well, I guess I won't be spending any part of this summer with Uncle Jim and Cousin Tim helping them forget the loss of a wife and mother."

"I expect to hear reports that you are getting along famously with your uncle and cousin," her father cautioned.

"Make that a Boxster S, Daddy."

"Don't press your potential good fortune, young lady."

"But Daddy, the S has a 3.2 liter engine that delivers noticeably more thrust than what's on tap from the 2.7 liter. The S has firmer suspension tuning. But what I like most are the bright red calipers, easily seen through the elegant spokes of its specially designed wheels. Gotta have 'em!"

"I've made my final offer," he father muttered with a frown. "You go down on the farm and then you get a Boxster, but no S, not for $9,000 more, just for some bright red calipers and a bigger engine."

"No, Daddy, when I have the car, I'll go down on the farm and spend quality time down with Uncle Jim and Cousin Tim. And since I lost my license for those speeding tickets, I want Roxanne to go with me. She can drive the car. Besides, she's a much better cook than I am. Uncle Jim will be real happy to have her. You know, I still can't believe that cop busted me all those times. He's gay, you know. Only way a cop would give me a ticket."

"Honey, I don't know about Roxanne," her father objected. "She's so wild and crazy."

"Daddy, you are such a prude! Roxanne was just being funny when you dressed up as Santa for Christmas and she sat on your lap."

"I didn't think that was funny, Sarah," her mother growled. "Your father ejaculated in those red wool Santa pants he borrowed from his boss. I couldn't wash them. They had to go to the dry cleaners."

"I couldn't help it," Sarah's father said to her mother, "the way Roxanne squirmed and wiggled on me..."

"Yeah Daddy, talk about a lap dance!"

***

"This sucker really rips," Roxie complimented, as she took the sharp curves at about eighty on the way to the farm.

"Yeah, but I really wish I could drive my own new car," Sarah complained miserably.

"Hey, you should have told that gay cop you'd put on a baseball hat and a fake beard and moustache and give him a blow job."

Roxie's silky, long black hair blew wickedly in the wind. Sarah had put her red tresses up in pigtails.

"You know, Roxie, I'm more than a little apprehensive about riding in this convertible naked. Did you notice how people in other cars and pedestrians have been staring at us?"

"I'd be more worried about sunburn, girlfriend. You got some kind of white skin, paleface. Better put some more sun screen on."

Sarah did. "Need some?" she asked Roxie.

"On my breasts, please."

Sarah did, toying with Roxie's nipples playfully.

"I think we should put our tops on," Sarah suggested.

"No way. I told you, I need to work on my tan. A real tan. You can tell the difference, you know. I just love it when some dipshit dude asks, "Are you tan from the sun?" and I answer, "No, I'm Roxanne from the earth." She giggled.

"Well, Roxie, I don't mind being naked, as you well know. But I don't really want to get arrested either. Actually, I love being naked."

"And why do you love being naked?" Roxie asked, with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Oh, I suppose...okay...I'll admit it...I like it when people...uh...admire my body."

"Admire? Remember when we went skinny dipping with our English professor and his friend? I'd call that worship. It got us A's. You got some great tits. Me, I hardly have anything up top."

"You're all nipples, Roxie," Sarah marveled as she teased them again with her fingers. "I can't believe how big the tips get. You could poke somebody's eye out."

"But my tits are so small. I need a boob job. Could you lend me the $10,000? Shit, you're loaded. You just bought this new car."

"$10,000? You've got to be kidding. No way, Roxie. You can get a good boob job for half that much. Why don't you just use the toilet paper method?"

"Hey, I need twice as much boob as your normal flat-chested woman. What's the toilet paper method?"

"Well, Roxie, every morning when you get up you just scrunch up a handful of toilet paper and rub it between your breasts, and eventually they definitely will get larger."

"You've got to be kidding, Sarah, how the hell is that supposed to work?"

"Beats me, but it sure worked on your ass!"

Sarah giggled hysterically and Roxie reached over and slapped her playfully.

"Funny, you never complained about my ass before, Sarah, especially when you did me with the strap-on and your big blue fake dick."

"You got an ass like a guy—big, fat, and hairy," Sarah joked. "Why do you love being naked, Roxie?"

"It's much easier to negotiate sex when you're naked. Ya know, girlfriend, this stick shift is making me horny as hell. Wish it was twisting in my pussy instead of my hand. Why don't you give me a buddy suck?"

"While you're driving my new car?"

"Sure, why not? I used to suck off Nick, my last boyfriend, all the time while he drove. He's swerve all over the road when he shot his load in my mouth."

"That doesn't sound very safe to me."

"Since when are you into safe sex, Sarah? You hate condoms."

"I don't like the smell of burning rubber. Unless I'm peeling out, which I have yet to do in my new Porsche. Another two months and I get my license back."

"So what about it, girlfriend, how about a buddy suck?"

"You said that. Do you promise to keep your eyes on the road and not to swerve and stuff?"

"Sure I do."

Sarah leaned over and began to tickle Roxie's ears with her lips. And then her neck. Her breasts. Her navel. Roxie wriggled and squirmed when Sarah tongued her belly button, and lower, to her neatly trimmed muff.

"Would you like me to go down on you, Roxie?" Sarah purred.

"Sure I would. But I better pull over. I don't see the slightest possibility of my being capable of keeping my left foot on the clutch, my right foot on the gas, my left hand on the steering wheel, and my right hand on the stick shift while you are tongue-fucking my pussy."

Roxie pulled off the road and spread her legs eagerly.

They never heard the police car pull up behind them. They never heard the officer approach the Porsche. In fact, he had stood there watching for ten minutes.

Finally Roxie saw him out of the corner of her eye.

"Uh...Sarah...I think we...uh...may have a..."

"Just what in the hell do you two think you are doing?" the officer, a large heavyset man in his forties asked belligerently.

"I think this is called cunnilingus," Sarah responded matter-of-factly.

"I'm going to have to arrest you two for indecent exposure and engaging in public sex."

"But officer, we're trying to get a tan!" Roxie protested.

"Oh really? Well, I can't say as I mind the view. You two are gorgeous, but you just can't go around having sex wherever you want."

"Oh really?" Roxie mimicked, winking at the officer. "You have a really big bulge in your pants. Just how big are you, anyway?"

"Almost nine inches," he stated proudly.

"Yeah, well I bet I can get all of you in my mouth."

"You think?"

"I sure do. Wanna see?"

"Uh...yeah...I think I would...I—"

Roxie got out of the car, naked. She unzipped the officer's pants and freed his eager penis.

"Yep, just about nine inches, and nice and thick, too. Would you like me to make it disappear, honey?"

Roxie didn't wait for an answer. She grabbed her blouse from the car, threw it on the ground, and kneeled.

She began to kiss and nibble the head of his cock.

"Officer, I guess you're going to forget about arresting us?" Sarah inquired as Roxie started to suck enthusiastically.

"Ohhh...ahhhh...of...of...course," he readily agreed, grimacing in pleasure as he pulled Roxie by the head down on him.

He groaned loudly as Roxie tilted her head back and popped him all the way down her throat.

***

Sarah and Roxie got to the dog farm but nobody seemed to be home.

"Let's go down to the lake and go for a swim."

"Sounds like a plan, Sarah."

"Should we put on our suits?"

"What the hell for? We want to get tan, real tan, a real real tan."

Sarah directed Roxie to the lake bordering her uncle's property. They got out of the car and jumped in the water.

"Let's swim around the bend, Roxie. There's a pier. Uncle Jim fishes there."

The father and eighteen-year-old son indeed fished off the pier.

Two beautiful golden retrievers lounged in the sun on the bank. They rose and barked as the two girls emerged from the water. Jim yelled for them to be quiet and one starting humping the other.

"Close your eyes, Tim," the father insisted as he put a blindfold over his son's eyes with his hands.

The teenager pushed his father's hands away.

"I don't think so, Dad. You don't see hooters like those on the redhead except in magazines. I miss Mom. I want the breasty!"

"But she's—"

"Hey Dad, now you know how Tom Hanks felt in

Splash

."

"That's your cousin Sarah, Tim."

"Dang, I didn't even recognize her with no clothes on and her hair all wet and in pigtails. I thought that other one was a guy at first, until...uh...yeah, but she's hot too. Dang, she's got some long legs."

Sarah waved. "Hello, Uncle Jim! Hi, Timmy!" She hugged them both warmly. "This is my friend, Roxanne. Mom told you she was coming too."

Jim took off his shirt. "Please put this on, Sarah. Tim, give the other young lady your shirt." He did, reluctantly.

"I'm not wearing a shirt," Roxie insisted. "Your tits are bigger than mine," she said to Jim. "What's the problem? Don't you like them? Anything bigger than a mouthful is a waste, so some say."

"I want the breasty!" Tim shouted again hopefully.

"Well...uh...yes...I...uh—" Jim stuttered.

"I'm not wearing a shirt either, Uncle Jim. Don't be such a prude!"

"Well...uh...okay...I guess."

"What did you catch?" Roxie asked.

Tim held up the carp.

"Well, it's carp for dinner, then," Roxie acknowledged. "Although Sarah already had fish today." They giggled and poked each other.

***

During their delicious carp dinner which Roxie prepared, she commented, "Tim, you're not eating."

"It's difficult for me to concentrate on food when you and Sarah are sitting at the table naked. But thank you, Lord, for naked hot babes! I forgot that part when I said grace."

"I don't think you like carp," Roxie observed. "Maybe you'd like some cherry flip or bearded clam? How about a tuna taco? Did you ever eat beaver?"

"Huh?" Tim blurted, baffled.

"You know, Uncle Jim, you guys really have some beautiful dogs," Sarah said, tactfully changing the subject. "Yeah, and they sure like to hump," she whispered to Roxie.

"Oh, you like dogs?" Jim inquired.

"I do," Roxie interjected. "I like a dog's knot."

"What?" Jim and Tim both uttered, confused.

"I have an Alstation," Roxie began to explain. "Took him to the vet the other day. Two other dogs were in the waiting room, a Kelpie and a pit bull. My dog says to the other two, 'So what are you guys here for?' The Kelpie replies, 'I'm being put down. I climbed up the wall, pulled down a rare piece of art, shat on it, and then dug a hole through the middle.' My dog says, 'Wow, man...too bad, dude.' The pit bull laments, 'I'm being put down also...I bumped my owner's son over the porch and broke his leg. So what are you here for?' he asked my dog who answers, 'Well, my owner was in the shower and I couldn't help myself. I bounded in, pushed her over and then mounted her from behind our style.' 'Wow, she must be really pissed off...so she's getting you put down too?' the Kelpie inquired. 'Oh no, I'm here to get my nails clipped,' my dog says, smiling."

"Roxie! I don't think you should be telling my uncle and virgin cousin smutty stories," Sarah chastised.

"Well, excuse me!" Roxie snapped.

"Timmy, you are a virgin, right?" Sarah asked, eyebrows raised.

"Well...uh...yeah...I...uh...guess. Auntie Jane did let me lap her crotch at my eighteenth birthday party. Auntie called it her quimcake. But she said oral isn't sex and she voted for Clinton, at least a dozen times."

"But Auntie Jane is so old!"

"Yes, dear cousin, but who can tell in the dark? I want the breasty! So she let me suck on her nipples. Didn't get any milk, though. Sarah, you got milk?"

Sarah ignored him. "What do you all suggest we do for the rest of the evening?" she asked, "Do you have any games we could play? SCRABBLE or something?"

"We have SCRABBLE," Jim responded. "Tim, go get it."

Sarah noticed a bottle of pills sitting on the dining room table. She read the label of the product called MORE HEAT. The label said the product contained ingredients like aboutonia, ascorbic acid, blood group antigens, calcium, chlorine, choline, citric acid, dreatine, deoxyribonucleic acid, fructose, glutathione, hyaluronidase, ininositol, lactic acid, magnesium, nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium, purine, pyretic acid, sodium, sorbitol, spermadine, spermine, urea, uric acid, vitamin B12, and zinc.

Roxie whispered to Sarah, "That's the same stuff that's in semen. I know, I had my stomach pumped once and the contents analyzed. My father thought I took a drug overdose because I came home looking like a zombie. Actually, it was just your typical frat party—get on your knees...and please, please, please."

"What's this medicine for?" Sarah inquired of her uncle.

Jim replied, "Some of the female dogs we breed, even when they're in heat, don't seem all that eager to mate with the males. This...uh...female libido enhancement...uh...makes them...uh..."

"Real horny?"

"Uh...yeah, Sarah, I guess so. It sure does work."

"Jim, do you think Sarah and I could have an alcoholic beverage while we play the game?" Roxie requested slyly.

"Sure." He got up to get them.

Roxie took a big handful of the pills, and split them with Sarah. They washed them down quickly with the brew which Jim returned with in mugs.

Tim got the game and set it out on the dining room table, and Roxie piped up with, "Let's play naked!"

"You are naked," Jim observed, finally becoming a little more comfortable with the concept.

"C'mon Uncle Jim, be a sport," Sarah begged. "We won't be able to see anything below your waist, anyway, sitting up to the table like that. It'll be fun. You've already seen us in our birthday suits, so what's the big deal?"

"Yeah, Dad," Tim urged, "what's the big deal?"

"Well, I guess I'm outvoted three to one."

The father and son removed their clothing self-consciously, not standing up to do so.

"One more suggestion before we start," Roxie purred. "You can only make words that have something to do with...sex!"

"Well, I just don't know—" Jim began to resist.

"My God, Uncle Jim, you're more of a prude than my dad!" Sarah shouted, annoyed.

"C'mon, Dad," Tim pleaded, "this will be educational. You never did tell me about the birds and the bees."

"Oh I suppose it won't do any harm," Jim finally conceded.

They all agreed to let the youngest, Tim, go first. He made the word "BED" horizontally.

Tim insisted he be permitted to use his Webster's New World Dictionary and Thesaurus because he said he didn't trust the girls.

"What the fuck, Tim, don't you know how to spell "BED" I wonder?" Roxie complained. "Geez, dude, get real!"

"Hey, whatever, Roxie," Sarah said, "let the little dick use his dictionary."

Roxie went next and made the word "FELLATE," using her own six tiles and Tim's E.

Tim quickly consulted the dictionary. "Not," he objected. "No such word as 'FELLATE' that I can see. It goes from 'fell' to 'fellow.' Sorry."

"It's a word, I swear!" Roxie roared, upset by his challenge.

"What does it mean, then?" Tim inquired.

"Did you ever have your cock sucked?" Roxie inquired, arrogantly.

"Well...uh...no...uh...but...uh..." Tim stuttered.

"That's what I thought, you stupid little shit," Roxie ranted. "No wonder you don't know what 'FELLATE' means."

"If you show me what it means, I'll accept the word," Tim acquiesced shyly.

Roxie just gave him a dirty look, but then smiled seductively.

Jim went next. He put an S on Tim's "BED."

"Brilliant, Uncle Jim, absolutely brilliant," Sarah jibed. She used his S and made "SEMEN" vertically.