Chapter Text
Shane clocked out of work and started walking briskly back to the ranch. As he passed the saloon, the soft sounds of bossa nova and clinking glasses floated towards him through the chilly air. It was a tempting offer: a warm spot by the fire, a beer in hand, and the guarantee that everyone would leave him the fuck alone. But today he didn’t even stop to consider it. He needed to see her as soon as possible.
When he reached the red door of the ranch, he paused. He was dreading having to face his aunt after all that had transpired in the past 24 hours. Shane carefully unlocked the door with his key while slowly turning the knob. As he pushed the door open, he heard Marnie’s voice call out to him. Goddamn it . He sighed and walked in, resigning himself to his embarrassment.
“Have a good night, dear nephew?”
“Yes, did you?” replied Shane, deadpan.
Marnie pulled a face at him, knowing her line of questioning was going nowhere. “What’s in the bag?”
Shane looked down at the JojaMart plastic bag in his hand, carrying the Farmer’s Tupperware and borrowed clothes. The implication of that was not one he wanted to confirm to his aunt.
“Uh, some expired grape nibble-pebbles Morris said I could take home,” he lied.
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “Well, keep that stuff away from Jas. Who knows what they’re putting in there.”
Relieved that she hadn’t given him too hard a time, Shane showered, changed, washed the lunchbox, and checked in on his goddaughter. Thankfully, it was Friday, so he didn’t have to help her with her homework yet.
He grabbed a beer from the fridge and drank it on the way to the farmhouse, with the plastic bag swinging from his hand as he walked. The farm was in full operation, even though it was winter. It was clear a lot of work went into making and keeping it this way. The fact that the Farmer liked him was baffling. She was everything he was not — hardworking, successful, beautiful, popular, not an alcoholic…Shane looked in disgust at the can in his hand and chucked it into a nearby pond.
He knocked on her door and waited, almost trembling with excitement. “I need my man to be big and strong for when he visits me after work today,” she’d told him that morning, when giving him the packed lunch. Her voice echoed in his head. My man. He shivered, but not from the cold. He was going to show her how big and strong he could be, he decided. As soon as she opened the door, he would pull her into a kiss and then fuck her against the wall.
Shane had many fantasies revolving around the Farmer that he had expected would remain just that — fantasies. Every night he sat alone on his bed, naked from the waist down, with cock in hand. The faint glow of his cellphone screen was the only source of light in his dark room. On it, he could see images of his beloved Farmer, as he thought about her in ways that made his brain feel mushy and made his penis feel good. He couldn’t see his pathetic face, slack-jawed, his eyes rolling back, sweating, drooling, babbling to himself as he entered a gooned-out masturbatory trance. He didn’t watch porn anymore; he could only get hard for the Farmer. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
The door opened, and there she was. His bravado evaporated. “Hey, I uhh got your stuff you lent me. Thanks,” he said, holding up the plastic bag.
The Farmer smiled brightly. “Come on in,” she said, moving out of the doorway.
It was dim inside the farmhouse, Shane noted, as he walked in. The curtains and windows were closed and he could just make out the musky scent that lingered in the air. His heart rate increased as he recognised the familiar smell.
“I laundered your clothes from yesterday,” the Farmer said breezily, as she gestured to the neatly folded pile on the coffee table. “I made sure to check your pockets for any free money I could pinch.”
He thanked her as he bent down to remove her items from his bag and replace them with his own. When he stood up, she was standing closer, eyeing him mischievously.
“What were you going to do with this, Shane?" the Farmer asked softly, holding up the pair of her white cotton panties she had found in his pocket.
Shane felt the heat rise in his face from embarrassment, as his dick twitched in his pants. "I-I was going to touch myself...looking at your pics and..."
"And what, Shane?" She stroked his face, the underwear still in her hand. Shane shivered as the fabric brushed against his stubble. "Show me," she said, pushing him onto the sofa. She brought her face close to his, so close their lips touched as she spoke. "Show me how you pump your cock for me, Shane."
With trembling hands, he reached to unzip his fly. The Farmer watched him intently. The shame of being caught by her again as the filthy pervert he truly was, and to have to do something so private and humiliating in front of her, aroused him even more. By the time he had pulled down his jeans and boxers, his penis was standing erect in all its glistening pink glory. His shirt had ridden up, revealing a trail of black hairs that travelled over his slight pudge from his navel to his pubic hair.
The Farmer tossed the panties at Shane as she stood over him, looking down at her docile devotee. She wanted to get on her knees immediately and take his luscious cock in her mouth, finishing what she’d started that morning. But she had to stop herself. She could always do that another time. Right now, he was about to show her how he masturbated and she didn’t want to miss that. She’d always wanted to see it. She loved the way men were slaves to their cocks. Listening to audios of men fucking their fists and losing themselves in lust always made her pussy dripping wet. And whenever she rubbed her greedy clit on those restless nights, she’d always think of Shane — that sad, lonely, unapproachable man at the saloon she just knew was going home to stroke his cock. If only she’d known he was doing it thinking about her.
Shane started pumping his penis obediently, his other hand clutching her underwear to his face. He felt deliciously degenerate as he inhaled her scent. Precum leaked from his tip, helping his hand glide smoothly up and down his shaft, and a lewd sound filled the room. The Farmer had never seen a man make that much pre before and it took all her willpower to stop herself from going down to taste it.
Her panties were at the base of his cock now, and Shane stroked faster. The Farmer sat next to him on the sofa, mesmerised by his beautiful phallus and his rhythmic motions. She turned him on so much, even fully clothed. He wanted her to know that. But all he could manage to utter were grunts and moans of swear words and her name, again and again. He couldn’t think. He was going stupid with lust. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge. He was about to—
“Stop.”
Shane stopped abruptly at her command, involuntarily letting out a primal cry of frustration. He was so close. His penis was hard and slick with his fluids. The Farmer couldn’t take it anymore. She pulled off her pants and positioned herself over his lap. Slowly, she lowered herself onto his cock. They both sighed as she took his length into her. She didn’t move, she just sat on it as they gazed at each other with desire. She kissed him, and he reciprocated hungrily. She moaned his name into his mouth, her kisses growing in intensity.
He started thrusting upwards into her, unable to resist the need to make his penis feel good. He grabbed her bum to move her up and down to meet his thrusts. The slapping and squelching sounds of sex could be heard as she approached orgasm. With her arms around his neck and her lips to his ear, she told him to cum for her. Shane groaned as he ejaculated inside her, spent. The Farmer wiped the sheen of sweat off his forehead, before kissing it, and caressed his face.
Hours had passed since Shane had arrived, and it was even darker in the room now, the dying light of the fireplace casting flickering shadows on their faces. After a few moments of rest, the Farmer got up. With his semen dripping down her thigh, she held her hand out to him. Shane got up and squeezed her hand.
“Let’s shower together this time,” he smiled.