A Roll in the Hay

Story Info
A farmwife rekindles her marriage.
8.4k words
4.6
46.6k
21
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
Deadwood
Deadwood
72 Followers

Amy Lynn Steele tried to choke back the tears as she watched the blue Chevy van make a large swing in the driveway and then head up the dirt road past her farmhouse. With the tires kicking up some rocks, and spewing dust in billowing clouds past the pansies that encircled the black mail box, Amy's in-laws honked their horn twice as they gained speed and threaded their way between the hayfield on the right, and the lower pasture on the left. With no one to see her cry, Amy openly wept; her tears streaming down the smooth skin of her cheeks as she felt the anguish of letting her in-laws take her infant daughter for the day. It was the first time her two month old had been out of her sight, and while deep inside she knew Alyson would be just fine, Amy tasted the saltiness of a tear that had trickled over her lip and entered her small mouth. Wiping the tears away with her hand, Amy longed to give her daughter one last kiss on the forehead, but she knew had other obligations as well.

With new resolve, Amy tried to forget her daughter for the moment as she grabbed a wicker basket she had prepared earlier in the day and stepped across the threshold of their sliding glass door that lead to her back deck. Already her mood had improved as being outside on a warm and sun filled day always did. She started to descend the wooden steps to the back lawn, but before she did, she stopped to remove her shoes. Since they were white canvas sneakers, there was no real need to unlace them before she pried each one off from her feet in turn and nonchalantly tossed them onto the deck, not caring that one landed upside down.

Being a farmers wife, there was not a lot of opportunities to go barefoot on the farm, but whenever she could, Amy did, as much for her benefit as for her husband's. Since it was not quite noon, the short grass of the lawn was still damp from evening dew and Amy knew her canvas sneakers would have been soaked only a few minutes into her hike across the upper hay field.

With a group of sheep nickering near the sheep barn, Amy ducked under a barb wire fence and entered the hay field. Here the grass was much taller, but also a deep dark color from the orchard grass and timothy that stood up tall and bent over in waves as the gentle breeze rolled across the hilly New England terrain. Because of this type of grass, not only was she glad she was barefoot, Amy was glad she had chosen to wear her favorite floral print, black and pink sun dress with a hemline that hovered between the midway point between her knees and waistline. At this height, the orchard grass and timothy, which was just starting to head out, kept her dress from getting wet from the dew. Closer to the ground was the thicker, but shorter, white clover that hung onto the dew with ferocity and sent up a wonderful sent of spring dampened grass that was as intoxicating in aroma as a bouquet of flowers.

Just over the rise Amy could hear her husband working the field with his tractor. Amy often teased that he loved and cared for his 8830 New Holland more then he loved her or the baby. While she knew that was not true, she knew he was content to be inside it, the door closed up tight to block out the engine sounds as the radio played and the plow behind him sunk deep into the soil and overturned the sod.

She could almost tell where he was in the field just by the tone of the two hundred horsepower engine. It labored slightly as he ran up the right side of the field, a portion of ground that was uphill, and eased off a bit as he started down the left side which was of course downhill. As Amy walked steadily upwards, she could see the plume of black smoke as one of the plow points hit a rock, but had to hike a few hundred feet more before she could actually see the blue and white tractor. At that distance she could smell the earthen fragrance of the overturned soil, the smell of diesel smoke in the air, and of course the ever present smell of the fresh green grass under her feet.

Once on top of the little knoll, Amy had a commanding view of the countryside. It was one of her most favorite parts of the farm, a location where she could see almost all of the four hundred acres they owned, their farmhouse and the sheep barns. Here though, she could also see the big blue and white tractor dragging behind it a red, seven bottom plow that cut savagely into the soil, flipping it over and exposing fresh green grass into crumbling dirt. Amy was hardly upset at what her husband was doing, because while the grass field was iconic, she also knew the beauty of the farm was the quality of the soil located here. A deep rich loamy gravel; crop rotation was not only the only viable way to raise sheep; it also broke up compaction, aerated the soil and allowed for a higher tonnage of winter feed for the sheep. Ducking under another barb wire fence, Amy made no hesitation about stepping onto the deeply furrowed field even though she had no shoes to protect her delicate feet from being cut by the many rocks and exposed ledge rock that made farming in Maine so difficult.

Despite the rocky soil she stepped on, Amy swooned at the sight of the tractor. She could remember the euphoria of actually buying the farm from her father-in-law a year before. With a new wedding band on her left ring finger, their excitement manifested itself by making love in all manner of places, including the old farmhouses slate countertops, inside the hay mound of the barn and of course inside the New Holland tractor. Of all the places Scott and her had made love over the last year, it was the tractor that Amy remembered vividly. Perhaps it was the importance of the machine to the farms profitability, or perhaps it was how wet her panties got as she watched her husband drive the thing with such skilful dexterity. Either way, as Amy walked closer to the tractor, anticipating where she could intercept it, she reminisced about having sex in such a powerful piece of equipment.

"Are you ever coming home", Amy remembered asking Scott when she saw the tractor for the first time? Scott's mom had given her a plate of food to take to Scott and specific directions on which roads to take to get to the isolated field Scott was disc harrowing. With the lights of her husband's pickup truck piercing the darkness, Amy had been worried that she was in the wrong field and would get stuck until she saw the tractor working the field, its own powerful lights illuminating an acre or more of the ground as it pulverized sod with a plethora of steel discs that it towed behind it.

"It's planting season Hon, I really don't know when I am coming home except that when this field is done, and it is taking more passes then I expected."

"Well maybe I should have stated that different; when are you coming to bed," she asked as she struck a sexy little pose?

Amy was not wearing anything overtly sassy, but with her thumbs shoved into the front pockets of her denim blue jeans, the pant legs of which were stylishly rolled up to her calves and an outfit completed with a pair of white flip flops, and ankle bracelet festooned around her left ankle and maroon polo shirt, her young innocent look was sexy enough. Illuminated by a light in the rear fender of the tractor, Amy bent one knee, pointed the toe of her flip flop in the dirt, and tilted her head to the right to get her point across. As a grin spread across Scott's face, Amy formed her own smile and looked Scott square in her eye with her own big blue eyes.

"We don't need to go to bed to do what you want."

"No, but it's freezing out?"

"So we'll do it in the tractor and turn the heat on."

Amy paused for a moment thinking about her options. They were in a distant field in the middle of the night so getting caught was as remote as the field they were in, and even if they did get caught, having only been married for a month, the newly weds would have been excused. Amy cast a glance at the tractor that was less then clean as Scott's boots had dropped mud onto the floor of the cab, and dust kicked up from disc harrow had coated ever surface of the interior of the cab. It was not the ideal place to have sex, but Amy and Scott had engaged in wonderful sex in the backseat of her car, and so having sex in the tractor had a powerful appeal.

"Would that make me a tractor slut?"

"No, just a kinky farm wife," Scott said knowing Amy loved the fact that she was now married.

"I am your wife and if you want to take me in a tractor, I'll let you," Amy said as she bit her lower lip and smiled at her husband.

A second later Amy followed Scott into the tractor not really sure how they were going to pull it off, but knowing that Scott had some ideas. For Scott getting ready meant just tugging down his jeans and underwear as he sat in the comfortable seat of the tractor. For Amy, getting ready was a bit more difficult. She couldn't exactly do the sexy little strip tease she wished she could do for him, but the fact that she was willing to have sex in such a machine was certainly appeal enough.

Amy started with her polo shirt, and while she did not need to be naked, she knew that was what Scott wanted. She awkwardly pulled the shirt off in the low ceiled cab and then removed her bra, letting her ample breasts spring loose as Scott killed the engine, shut off the operating lights, but switched on the interior dome light so that he could see his bride. Just as clumsily her jeans came next, and Amy could see Scott's growing excitement as her tight jeans were pushed down and her panties slowly came into view. Nearly falling over as she tried to pull her tight fitting folded over pant legs off her feet, she was struggling because she tried to do so over her flip flops. When it became blazingly clear that she would not be able to keep her flip flops on despite the mud on the floor, Amy gave up all caution to wind and removed her flip flops, then the jeans, and ignored the mud under her bare soles of her feet. Scott had already put his hands on his wife's slender hips and worked them down to her knees.

"Scott," she said as if she objected, but Scott knew she had no objections to him helping her take his clothes off. In the past he had done it using only his teeth; he had done so on their wedding night, and had done it while she was hopelessly tied to all four corners of the bed posts. Now as she whisked her panties off her feet, she knew there was only one position they could take in the fairly confined space of the cab. Scott flipped up both arm rests of the tractor seat, adjusted the air ride seat with a bit more air as Amy faced him and sat in his lap.

Amy was not sure what touched her first, Scott's lips upon hers, or the tip of his cock as she reached underneath it and gently steered I towards her sex. She was not overly wet as there had been little foreplay, but undressing in such a unique place, and seeing her husband's erection pulsate in anticipation of being inside her was enough to dampen her insides. She also knew the unique position would help, as her own body weight would help to sink Scott's shaft fully inside her.

Scott seemed to understand this too and helped prep Amy's body by stealing light kisses at first, and then romantically invading her mouth with his tongue. Amy truly felt as she was being ravished by her husband as his tongue and his shaft entered her simultaneously. A deep feeling of passion overtook her as she felt the operator's seat bottom out from both of their bodies compressing it, and then without being able to descend any more, Scott's cock began sliding deep into her sex. In fact Amy was not sure if she had ever been taken so deeply when Scott finally came to rest. With her hips rotated backwards, and her legs splayed wide with her bare feet pressed tightly against the back window, it was the perfect position in which to be entered.

"Oh my God," Amy murmured through Scott's lips as Amy realized she was in complete control. With her position on top of Scott, she could regulate the speed in which he sent his shaft in and out of her by manipulating her body up and down on his shaft. And the feeling was liberating. Because her hips were rotated backwards, Scott's pelvis was rubbing on her clit, exciting her in ways that having sex on the bed never could.

Scott knew he could still do more then sit there with the euphoric feeling of his shaft deeply impaled in his wife's body. Knowing his wife was a hopeless romantic, he continued to kiss her with zeal that could only come from the life time commitment of marriage. With head tilted, his mouth completely open and his tongue lashing her tongue with longing and love, Amy swooned with passion from it all. Part of her felt that Scott's passion came from having spent years inside the cab of a tractor, his mind endless thinking as the sod behind him was pulverized and he inevitably wondered what it would be like to have sex in a tractor. But Amy knew that was only part of it, the real reason they were making love with such ferocity was that he truly loved her.

With that powerful thought, Amy began to increase her tempo, the seat rising and falling upon its cushion of air as Amy sent her husband thrusting inside her in a rather fast pace. Normally she liked to take it slow, letting her body build up to a credenza, but today with her clit being rubbed in unison, she was building to a very fast orgasm. Breaking the open mouthed kiss, she began to moan and pant in time with the thrusts. Already their built up heat was starting to steam the numerous windows up and she could no longer keep her eyes open.

Amy really did not need too; she could envision her husband's young, stout form rippling from years of farm work. That was all she really needed to see, for the dirty floor, empty cans of soda and bolts laying on the tractor cab floor was more of a distraction than anything else. And certainly she did not need her eyes open to smell her husband's unique scent that Amy was so familiar with. Hardly offensive, it was her's and her's alone and knew no other woman knew of it, much less appreciated it as much as her. Amy also knew she had her own sweet fragrance, especially with Scott slipping in and out of her sex with abandon, and even if it would linger in the cab for hours, it would not bother her husband any as he finished tilling the field.

Scott kept trying to reinsert his mouth onto hers, but as Amy bounced wildly up and down upon his shaft, the moving target was bobbing way to wildly for Scott to plant a kiss with any accuracy. Willing to let his wife take what she wanted, he began to close his eyes and tried to think about anything but the wondrous feeling he felt welling up in his balls. It was all too familiar of a feeling, and while often times Scott could think of other things and delay his release, he knew in this circumstance there was no way he would be able too. Amy was riding him with rapidity and he found her inner walls snug, slick and descended upon his entire shaft with each thrust.

"Amy I'm close", he said as he always did just before getting off. He had no idea why, because while it seemed like he was asking for permission, the reality was he could not stop it any more then he could change the commodity prices of lamb. Still there was no need to delay the inevitable because Amy was even closer. She had been building up to a powerful climax from the very moment Scott had entered her, and the inadvertent rubbing of her clit had spurned her on to an incredible orgasm. That burst forth with one final plunge and as her voice moaned out, it spurned her husband's release as well.

As they climaxed together, each one in turn nearly passed out from the incredible pleasure of it all. Amy's inner walls quivered with power, milking Scott's balls of every drop of come it could produce. As powerful ejaculation after ejaculation pumped into her vagina, Scott and Amy could both feel their juices intermingling as never before, a product of their unique position that invaded all their senses and made the moment almost too much for each of them to handle.

"Oh my God", Amy said as a moment of silence and inactively allowed the two of them to retreat from the cloud of pleasure that true marital sex allowed. She did not say it, but a mutual climax had only occurred twice before in their relationship and she knew the memory of this lovemaking session would live with her forever. "God Scott I love you so much."

"I love you too", Scott said in turn, finally opening his eyes from the near blackout he had due to the intensity of his orgasm.

Now as Amy watched Scott drive the tractor across the field, she had no way of knowing that Scott was thinking about that night as well. He longed for a repeat of that night, as he spent hours inside the cab and it was only natural to want to incorporate the farm, the tractor and his true love into one pleasurable moment.

Now though that Scott could see Amy stepping across each furrow; for a moment was concerned something was wrong as she did not have the baby with her. That fear subsided as he watched her movements and realized she was moving in too much of a care-free way to need him for any sort of emergency. He also knew as he drew closer that she was wearing his favorite sundress. Light and airy, a little short and a little tight, Scott had always loved how she looked in it, and while the recent baby had filled it out a little bit more then last year, Scott still found her attractive as all husband's do who truly love their wives.

As he drew within twenty feet of her, he was merely going to stop and pick her up, keeping the plowing going as she rode around with him in the tractor, but when Scott saw that she was barefoot and carrying a picnic basket, he knew Amy wanted far more then lunch. Slipping the throttle back to an idle, Scott shifted the big tractor into neutral before turning the key and pulling the plunger that shut off the loud and powerful engine. With a flick of his wrist, he popped open the left side door and Amy watched with amazement as her strong husband decided the steps from the cab and walked the twenty feet over to her.

"Where is Amber", Scott asked as Amy stood on her tippy-toes to greet her husband with a kiss, their lips connecting just as he finished his question? Scott broke the kiss after their lips touched in a loving, but less then romantic way, at which Amy was not about to let him off so easily. Letting her answer wait, Amy wrapped her arms around her husband and kissed him for a full ten seconds, letting her tongue connect and lash with his until there was no question that she loved him and only him, and what she had trekked all into the field for.

"She is with your parent's", Amy said, her seductive smile unable to hide her passion from the kiss they had just shared.

"So you brought me lunch then?"

"Yeah I brought lunch," Amy said with a slight heft of the wicker basket as proof. "I hated to let her go, but I know it's important for her grandparents to have some alone time with her, and between the farm work and the baby, we have not had much time alone either."

"Well I was hoping to get this field plowed up before nightfall but...", he said, his words trailing off as Amy shot him a dirty look, and standing in her little sundress and bare feet, Scott knew that grabbing some sandwiches and eating while plowing was not part of her plans. Taking a glance back at the tractor, Scott realized it would be just fine and started after Amy who was headed toward the top of the knoll.

As the two of them walked, Scott could not help but reach out with his hand and cup her right ass cheek and give it a little squeeze. He was not sure what he expected, either from Amy as a reaction, but he expected to feel something underneath, failing to feel anything, he could not help but quiz his wife.

Deadwood
Deadwood
72 Followers