My name is Brie, and I just recently turned 18. Out here in the boonies of rural Pennsylvania, that milestone birthday usually means my life’s excitement level is on par with watching crops grow. For a girl like me, that’s a special kind of torture. It’s not that the local guys aren’t interested. Trust me, they’re very interested, lining up to date or, more accurately, to try getting into my pants. They just happen to bore me to tears. That’s a major issue when you’re a girl who’s perpetually horny.
Let’s just say I rely on my fingers quite often and have become intimately acquainted with the various settings on the showerhead just to get a little relief. My last taste of excitement was almost a year ago, a glorious few weeks of sneaking into Penn State parties with a guy who, sadly, decided to trade in our fun for sunshine and move to Florida. I figured that was it for me – pretty much another year in a sexual desert. Then, the summer happened.
Our farm was the kind of place that stretched on forever, a vast expanse of fields under a sky so wide it made you feel small. Beautiful, in its way, but about as exciting as watching paint dry on the side of a barn. My older sister, Clara, had breezed in from New York University a few months back, a city girl seeking refuge from the concrete jungle, no doubt. To combat the soul-crushing boredom of farm life, she’d invited her friend, Marissa, to stay for the last few weeks of summer. Marissa.
She was the type who looked like she’d been airbrushed into reality, all flawless skin, glossy hair, and a dazzling smile that probably charmed the birds right out of the trees. Her clothes probably cost more than our combine harvester, and her attitude? It was a perfect match to her perfect exterior, especially when it came to me. She had this infuriating way of talking down to me like I was some hayseed she had to tolerate, a pesky fly buzzing around her meticulously crafted world.
Then, one sweltering afternoon, a glint of chrome in the distance signaled an arrival. A truck, battered but holding its own against the dusty farm roads, pulled up, and out stepped a mirage, a man who made my breath catch in my throat. He was tall, with eyes the color of a summer storm, dark and intense, and a smile that could melt ice caps. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties, a little older than me, and my body responded to him with a primal, insistent throb. I was instantly drawn to him, like a moth to a very alluring flame.
I forced myself to move, to approach him, my voice a little breathless, and asked if I could help him.
That devastating smile turned on me, and the heat intensified, making me feel damp and flushed. He introduced himself as Kevin, his voice was a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through me.
When he said he was looking for Marissa, my heart, which had been soaring moments before, plummeted to my boots. Marissa’s boyfriend. Of course. Just another reason to resent the perfect, untouchable Marissa, and to fuel the burning jealousy that now coiled in my gut, hot and tight.
My father was old school so Kevin had his room since he was not married to Marissa but that was not going to keep them from getting together late at night. I showed Kevin where his room would be. I was at the end of the hall and close to my room and the room my sister and Marissa would be staying. I realized I forgot I still had a nanny cam in Kevin’s room. Now, about that nanny cam. It was leftover from when Clara used to babysit, and I just… never took it down. I know, I know, it’s wrong. But I justified it to myself. Just to make sure everything was okay, right?
Curiosity got the best of me and I turned on the monitor. I watch Kevin undress. I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help it. I am about to touch myself right when Marissa enters his room and they kiss passionately. I am jealous and turned on at the same time. Marissa pushes Kevin onto the bed and kisses his face and body before telling him to stay there. She gets out some restraints and ties each hand to the bedpost. Kevin is now hard and his cock is huge. Much bigger than the guy I had been with. I so wish I was Marissa right now.
I then see her blindfold him and tease him a little more. He looks like he is aching for her. I hear her on the cam again telling him to hold whatever thought he had, and that he would have to wait for her while she took a hot shower and shaved her legs. I could then hear his voice, as if in sexual agony, that she was killing him by making me wait like this. She looked like she had a big smile at his pent-up need for her before sashaying out of the room, leaving him on the bed. The look on his face made me think he needed relief sooner rather than later.
Then, a dangerous, thrilling idea ignited in my mind, and my heart pounded as I quietly slipped into his room while the shower was running. He was still hard, so I placed a finger to his lips, silently pleading with him to stay quiet. He thought I was Marissa, saying that I was messing with his head but happy that I, though Marissa in his mind, was there already.
I wrapped my hand around his throbbing cock, giving it a gentle squeeze, hoping he wouldn’t realize I wasn’t his girlfriend. He let out a soft, blissful sigh, and I was determined not to disappoint. I lowered my mouth to him, kissing and licking, feeling him twitch beneath my tongue as drops of dew escaped, which I lapped up like honey. I could’ve done that for hours, but I knew time was short.
Swinging my leg over him, I kept a firm grip on his throbbing length and slowly took him inside me. A thrill rushes through me hearing him say how he feels so amazing inside me without a condom, and complimenting how tight I feel around his shaft.
I almost see stars with his long and thick cock reaching the deepest parts of me as I start riding him. Though I am stretched by his girth, I am so wet, I am able to easily glide up and down his shaft. He is enjoying it more as only a couple of minutes pass before I realize he is about to come. I know he had probably waited a long time for this moment and I wanted it to be memorable for both of us. Just before he unloads in me, I decide that I want him to know it’s me who is making him feel so good and I pull his blindfold off.
His face, a mask of confusion and burgeoning ecstasy, twisted in a silent question, as if to ask what is going on. I pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him, and rode him harder, deeper as another hand reached back to pull his balls taut. A low, deep moan escaped him, vibrating through me as I felt the hot, pulsing rush of his release deep within. His body tensed, a beautiful tremor running through him, and I held his gaze, making sure he saw me, and that he understood who was giving him this pleasure. He tried to whisper for me to slow down, but I ignored him, my desire a roaring fire in my veins. With Marissa dangerously close by, and having Kevin’s large cock shooting off inside me made it hard for me to not come so hard I almost scream out. I kept riding, relentless, until both of our tremors subsided, leaving him spent and breathless, every drop of him now a part of me.
I quietly tell him that it is better Melissa does not find out, my voice husky, as I carefully slid off his spent but semi stiff cock. I placed his blindfold back on, and wiped him down, but not completely. I wanted a trace of me to linger, a phantom sensation for her to get a taste of when she tried to suck him back to life. As I quietly slipped out of the room, closing the door with a soft click, I felt a thrill of victory, a primal satisfaction. Back in my room, I watched on the monitor, a silent observer of their encounter. I saw her frustration, the way he remained unresponsive to her touch, knowing I was the reason.
Later that evening, Marissa’s frustrated complaints to Clara drifted through the house. I could hear parts of the conversation that he was off, and he didn’t even finish. This brought a slow, triumphant smile that curved my lips.
The next day, Kevin avoided me, a shadow of guilt in his eyes. I found him by the old oak tree, the familiar scent of its leaves a backdrop to our unspoken tension.
I told him we needed to talk in a low murmur in the stillness of the afternoon.
He turned, his face a battleground of conflicting emotions. He told me it was a mistake, and that he thought I was Marissa prior to pleading it can’t happen again.
I countered, assuring it would happen again, my gaze lustful and unwavering. He looked surprised when I asked what would happen if Marissa found out by seeing me ride him to such an intense orgasm. The fear that flickered in his eyes was quickly masked, but I saw it, and I pressed my advantage. I told him I only needed his affection just once a day and that he would enjoy it anyway. He hesitated, then offered a token argument, before realizing no one would believe him and the desire in his eyes betrayed his true feelings. I then knew he was a fish hooked on my line.
I grabbed his hand and took him to an old tool shed behind the house before telling him to relax as I pulled his pants down. I was happy he was already semi-hard. It made me realize I excited him. I put as much of him in my mouth as possible as he complimented how nice my little mouth and aggressive tongue felt. He abruptly stopped me when he saw Marissa.
Before he started to hide, I grabbed his balls which had crept up higher for some reason, and began sucking. His knees buckled and he gave up any idea to move or hide anymore as I could, thinking he was about to come any moment. I then encouraged him not to pay attention to her and focus on my soft blue eyes as he went from half-heartedly trying to get me off him again to pushing his head into my throat as he moaned quietly but with an intense ferocity. Though he managed to finish in intense fashion, I made him stay a little longer in my mouth to make sure he thought about me all night, even when he was with Marissa.
Each day after, we discovered new hiding places, and stolen moments of intense intimacy. I introduced him to new sensations, and new positions, each encounter culminating in his explosive release, my name halfway a ragged whisper on his lips. On the third day, as he filled me, he murmured my name, a raw, unguarded sound that sent shivers down my spine. He confessed that he wished Marissa was as responsive, as naturally tight, and that he resented the barrier of the condom that birth control complications forced upon them. By the fifth day, the shift was undeniable. The guilt was gone, replaced by a burning anticipation.
He sought me out, his touch bolder, his kisses hungry and demanding. The raw, untamed energy that crackled between us was a universe away from whatever he had with Marissa, and he was hopelessly addicted. He craved our encounters, the wild, uninhibited connection we shared, a secret world built for two.
On the last day of his visit, the muffled sounds of an argument between him and Marissa drifted through the house. I heard him say he was going for a walk to cool off, and a thrill pulsed through me. This was my chance. I followed him, a silent shadow flitting through the trees until we reached a secluded clearing in the woods. He was angry at first, his frustration evident, but that anger quickly morphed into something else when I slowly, deliberately, began to undress. His breath hitched, his eyes darkening as he watched me. Then, he was on me, kissing me with a fierce hunger that took my breath away.
We fell to the soft earth, our bodies entwined, the scent of pine and damp earth filling our senses. It was a raw, urgent coupling, fueled by days of stolen moments and forbidden desires. I made sure he came twice, two shuddering releases, the first deep inside me, the second a hot, slick offering that I took with greedy abandon. I told him to break up with Marissa and to start seeing me instead as my lips grazed his ear. He promised he’d think about it, his voice thick with the aftermath of our encounter.
Before dawn could paint the sky with the colors of a new day, and before Marissa could even stir, I slipped into his room one last time, wanting to leave him utterly spent, completely devoid of desire for anyone but me. I knelt beside the bed and took him in my mouth, a slow, deliberate act of possession. He woke with a gasp, his body tense at first, but then relaxed, letting my mouth work of his cock till his body arched, trembled, and went shuddering climax which excited me. In my mind, it was the way I wanted him to leave – marked by me, body and mind.
Marissa left a few days later following his departure, a storm cloud passing over the quiet landscape of the farm. Soon after, my phone buzzed with regular texts from him. When I asked about his girlfriend, a slow smile spread across my face as he replied that they were over. He wanted me to fly to Nashville, to stay with him in his apartment.
I texted back it sounded much more exciting than watching crops grow. There was an unspoken promise hanging heavy in the air.
I smiled reading his text that the two of them were now over as she couldn’t excite him anymore and he couldn’t stop thinking of me.
I knew then that I had won and asked if he was going to take care of me in Nashville.
He promised he would in every way possible, and I began to think the boring days on the farm were over at least temporarily. I did not know if Kevin was the one but I was excited to get out of the farm life and to have someone to explore my sexuality with. My summer, and perhaps my life, had just begun. The fields of crops might be content to simply grow, but I was ready to bloom.
