Subject: Adult: Nick and Nat Go Down on the Farm (01/01) Date: Thu, 9 Apr 1998 18:37:14 -0700 From: clark To: mdbugg@bellsouth.net This story is posted under an adult header due to silly sexual content. It is intended for adult audiences only. If silliness, sex, or the bad use of euphemisms offend you please do not read it. Permission given to archive at fkfanfic website, the FTP site and the JADFE archives. No other permission is granted to repost/reprint/reuse. If you're interested drop me a line. As always, feedback is welcomed. This story is based on characters and situations that aren't mine. Thanks to TPTB for their use. Nick and Nat Go Down on the Farm by S. Clark So Nat reached into his pants and started to massage his zucchini. "I've wait for so long," she moaned. "Touch my melons, please." "Natalie," he breathed the words softly, "you don't know how long I've longed to fondle your casabas." He wanted her then and there. From the cornsilky strands of hair to the beet red darkness of her womanhood. He longed to run his hands naked through her fields, to plow her furrow where his seed could find purchase. And she wanted him to delve into the wells of her soul. To divine that place with his rod. Meanwhile she staked her own claims, exploring the dark expanse of his mouth with her tongue. She rifled down the front acreage and grabbed hold of the back forty and pulled him closer. He began to mow her fields, to divest her of her clothing. She assisted him in a similar task and combined, they both lay barren in the wastelands of the loft. Natalie surveyed they expanse before her finally allowed to witness that which had long been kept covered from exposure to the elements. "Nick," she cried. "I've waited so long for you to roam across my mountains, to visit my valley and find the peak within." "But I'm afraid of the harm, Natalie. My love is like a strip mine to the soul. It is a love that cannot be gentle but instead leaves all wasted and withered." "Ah Nick," she said. "Shut up and plant it." He complied drilling himself into her core. Pumping into the well of her womanhood while their tongues dueled for possession of their various oral cavities. Nick pumped like the old tractor did just before it gave up and blew a cylinder. In his eyes shone the golden glow of morning and desire. Her eyes reflected a cornucopia of emotion, from desire to despair, from every a emotion to every z emotion. Nick traversed her body to the best he could while keeping the old sump pump engaged. He was an explorer in virgin territory. ('Not that virgin,' thought Nat, reading over the copy for the story). His tongue drew broad swatches of unclaimed territory making it his own, tasting the fruits of her vine. And, as they both moved in a frenzy of animal husbandry the moment came when the simultaneous broadcast of his seed into her awaiting silo met with the release of her store of pent up . They had weathered the tempest and come through unscathed. The raging storms of passion had met with ferocious energy and come to a place of calm. With wild oats temporarily sown they sunk into a heap of limbs and flesh. Nick withdrew from her root cellar and gathered to himself what he had reaped. (<--note...the word is reaped) Together they combined territories and declared a truce to give the fertile plains a time to rest before being worked again.