J. S. Bradley
The hog wives
Dean Palmer got out of his dusty pickup truck, crossed the gravel to his back porch, opened the door, then stepped inside. It was at least ten degrees cooler in the enclosed porch them the outside, but he stood there and stripped off his clothes and shoes, then he went into the kitchen, leaving his dusty, chaff-covered garments in a heap by the washing machine.
Phyllis Palmer looked up from the sink where she was rinsing salad vegetables. She stared at the gray patches and smears on her husband's hairy body, then she shook her head from side to side.
"One of these days, Dean, you're going to walk in here naked like that and find yourself face-to-face with the Avon lady. Did you finish?"
"We finished Mac's, but we have that corner piece of our own to do tomorrow. That should just about finish it for the year. And what's the matter with my walking in here naked? Would you rather I'd dump my dirty threshing clothes on the bathroom floor?"
Phyllis was staring so hard at Dean's big cock that she almost cut her finger with the paring knife. She was thinking about how long it had been since she had played with her favorite toy; this was the fourth day in a row that the co-op had threshed from 5AM to 6PM, and Dean had gone to bed right after dinner each night and fallen asleep immediately.
"When you come in that back road, you never know whose car may be parked in front of the house," she told him, licking her lips as he shifted his stance, making his cock slap against his thighs. "We'd be the scandal of the county if you came prancing in here like that and ran into Mary Margaret Siebenthaler." Her voice was reprimanding, but mischief danced in her brown eyes.
"Fuck that old gossip!" Dean blurted out, walking across the kitchen on his way to the bathroom. "I'm one citizen she wouldn't dare do any talking about."
Phyllis turned from the sink to cross-examine him on his cryptic comment, but he had disappeared. She finished her trimming and rinsing, chopped the vegetables into the bowl, then leaned against the counter, thinking about how good it would feel to have Dean's prick slide into her cunt and give her a good plowing.
Her thighs squeezed together, forcing the lips of her pussy outward with the pressure. She could feel the dampness gather as she imagined the fullness of his cock inside her, expanding her hot tunnel and tugging at the cloak of her clit with each stroke.
The daydream carried her away, and when she heard the sound of the shower cease in the bathroom, she realized that she was panting and that her thighs were wet with the oozing juices of her excited cunt. She took off her apron and tossed it onto a chair, then started for the bathroom, unfastening her smock-like house-dress as she walked.