I cannot see him keeling over with anything. He is an old-school generational farmer, a tenth son of a tenth son, made to withstand the constant unrea...on of crop, weather, animal, food politics and the predations of supermarkets that charge more for water than for milk. The elements will not weather this man. He is a human crag who adapts to them instead of being worn away. His face is unexpectedly smooth, but ruddy and with deep creases around the eyes. His hair is probably still thick, only. The warm bubbles ran down my neck and tits and I couldn't help but feel horny. I took one hand and started playing with my tits. My other hand slowly went for my pussy. I started playing with my clit. "Oooooh" I moaned. I rubbed faster.The soothing warmth against my body put me in a daze. My eyes shut and I went into a sexual fantasy.I awoke hours later with John, my ex-husband standing above me. As I was about to talk, he put his hand against my lips. "Shh" he whispered.He started playing with. More

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