Farmer John, Ginny and Jasper - Part 9 (final)

Hello, everybody... and welcome to Uncle Jasper's Swinging with Marrieds... this is the final chapter of our series called Air Tight... the saga of how Ginny Crosby and I broke her husband of his nicotine addiction... 

Now, farmer John was willing to forgo this day's inspections of his bean field and corn field, but he insisted upon counting his god damned cows... we agreed to allow him this...

But before we could cut him loose... I just had to test him... I said... CAROLINA...

At which time, John expressed his feelings on the situation... he goes... whew... that was one wild ride you and Ginny put me through... 

I said... it sure was, John... and you took us exactly where we needed to go... so, tell me... how bad is it... hanging from your wrists like that? 

Ha... it's getting pretty bad up here, Jasper... but actually, I think if my arms were closer together... I could handle it with no problem... right now, feels like they're about to come outta their sockets... feels like my rib cage is getting squeezed by a... a big old python or something...

Well, Ginny, I see there are two notches in that bar that are closer together... have you ever used 'em?

Yes, but I prefer his feet to be off the ground. 

Oh, you are a cruella deville, aren't you? Well, we're either gonna have to use the other notches or bring him down... hell, it's up to you, John... what do say?

Jasper... you know damned good and well I love trying to play superman for you and Ginny... and if you two wanna keep on playing I'm more than willing to do it... as long as you relieve some of this pressure on me... but there does come a time when a man wants the freedom to... participate a little bit more... you know to... ah, hell... I ain't no good at saying things like this...

What he's trying to say, Jasper... is that John would like to show his appreciation to you for... well... 

For everything, Jasper... and it's kinda hard to do when I'm hanging here about to suffocate...

Ha... there, I proved my point didn't I? John would've stayed right there for us to keep working him over... just like I said... providing we fix his arms so he could breathe... ha. 

Anyway... being the nasty, fornicating fools we are... we didn't even bother to clean up... John and I piled into his pickup, shirtless... just jeans and socks and boots and underwear... he grabbed an apple out of the refrigerator in his workshop, while Ginny went into the house to do whatever... 

The first thing John did, before even starting the engine, was this... Jasper, get in that glove box, take those cigarettes and get rid of 'em... 

Since he didn't give me any specifics, I crushed the pack in my hand... then, as he drove away from the house, I distributed ripped papers and loose tobacco outside open window... tiny bits at a time... still distributing about a quarter mile later when we reached the gate which led to the pasture...

Is that the last pack, John?

Yeah, that's it, Jasper... there ain't no more.   

And that was the end of that... I did not challenge him on it... didn't ask for any guarantees that he wouldn't go into town to buy more... didn't really give a shit whether he smoked or not... it was his decision... besides, I ain't that way... not with anybody... I don't care what people do to pleasure themselves... don't believe this bullshit about second hand smoke, neither... whatever harm it causes to me is nothing compared to the bus fumes and truck fumes and factory fumes we breathe every day... what pisses me off is these do-gooders on their high horse, always making rules to prevent people from having a good time... like ordinances where you can't smoke in the watering holes... what a crock of shit... who the hell's going to go into a tavern and be offended because some poor working stiff is having a smoke along with his beer? Nobody... the people who make these rules never go to places like that anyway... just a bunch of busy-body piss ants... too bad they can't devote their time and energy to an important issue... there's a long list of things that really do need to be fixed... but smoking in a bar is not one of them. 

John and I didn't talk much... because he was counting cattle... or so I thought... about midway through he goes... how many you got so far, Jasper?

Ah, hell, John, I ain't counting 'em... just enjoying the scenery... enjoy being out here in the fresh air, riding around with you. How many have you counted so far?

Ah, I don't really count 'em, Jasper... I know each and every one of 'em... I know which ones cluster together... and I know where they usually hang out... 

So they're social animals... like us...

Yep, some of 'em are loners... but most of 'em have their little groups... and just like people... if you wanna be in that group... you gotta talk your way in... unless you're born into that group... 

You're right, John... that is like people... and I'll bet most of those groups ain't worth the effort... once you go to the trouble of... gaining their acceptance, you realize their little group ain't worth a shit anyway... 

That's exactly how it is, Jasper... now Wilbur... my bull, he'll be in the vicinity of the pond... and all the cows that are getting ready to fuck... they'll be hanging with him... based on what I saw yesterday, I can tell you that there will be six of 'em with Wilbur, maybe five, he might have already nailed one of 'em... 

John did know his livestock... sure enough, as soon as we cleared a rise and the pond came into view... there was Wilbur, about 20 yards from bankside, munching away... and flanking him on all sides, no more than 30 feet away from him, five cows were watching Wilbur's every move... I said... ain't that something... the life of a bull, just eat, drink and fuck... 

Yessir, Jasper... the dream of every man alive... every man who can still do it... but hell, I got no complaints about my current situation... sure is a lot better than it was a couple years ago.

Ha... yeah, John, same goes for me... 

As for Wilbur, he goes through his down times, too... when July's over, I'll take him outta this pasture... make him go without... don't want him making more babies than this pasture can support.

Poor Wilbur... I kinda felt sorry for him until John explained how they milk him and sell his semen, how they make nearly as much off his semen as they do selling livestock... 

John parked the truck near a little wooden ramp he'd built over water's edge... he got out... so, I did too... we met at the front bumper... facing each other... you know I just love the way John wears his jeans... way down low on his belly... not because he's fat... just because he never bothers to pull 'em up after they've worked their way down... before long, they'd be all the way down and off... because John said...

Jasper, have you ever gone skinny-dipping in a farm pond?

No, I haven't... are there snapping turtles in that thing?

Oh, probably, but they prefer fish over peckers... Ginny oughtta be here any time now... bringing us some serious food to eat... finally... until then... you smell like a god damned race horse... strip down and let's get wet... 

Like he didn't smell worse than I did... we left our clothes on the little dock, and no sooner had John and I jumped into the water than did a dually appear on the horizon, with Ginny its driver. Within minutes, she got naked and joined us... we swam, floated, tread water and talked a bit... refreshing ourselves, replacing dungeon-induced sweat with sun-warmed pond water... 

Ginny goes... are you boys hungry?

John and I looked at one another, then at her... our faces must have said it all... something like... are you kidding me? You have to ask us that?

She goes... I take it you are... I just got back from town.

John asked... Did you go to Neidermeyer's? 

Yes I did... 

And with that, John grabbed me by the arm... Come on, Jasper... Ginny bought us some Martha Neidermeyer fried chicken... best in the county... much better than Ginny's...

You'll pay for that, mister...

John was not exaggerating about the chicken... nor any other part of the meal that came with it... and Ginny wasn't joking about the... you'll pay for that, mister... because after we'd finished, Ginny and I became Harold and Kurt... taking on John in a two against one, wrestling match in the shallows... and he did let us win... and we did drag him up on the bank... where we got ourselves covered with mud... where we sprawled John on his back... did some fake punching on him... did some deep-fingered massaging on him... and where we got two hard dicks and one wet pussy ready for action... 

But then, in an unexpected and pleasurable twist of fortune... John and Ginny Crosby teamed up against me... they pushed me into the water... assaulted me... John holding back my arms in a standing full nelson... Ginny giving me fake punches to my gut... Ginny giving me very real kisses to my chest and underwater stomach... John giving me kisses to my neck and the back of my head... and when they were finished there, they brought ME onto the bank... laid ME out spread eagle... laid themselves on either side of me... and tag-teamed me with their hands, lips and tongues... yes cousins, you heard me... that macho stud, John Crosby, and his sexy wife both loved on me... and as if that wasn't enough... the next thing I know, Ginny mounted me... holy crap... my favorite position... laying on my back in the soft mud, while this hot and horny female used me as her tool... crushed me inside her velvety vagina... targeted her clittie with my corona... while her husband knelt beside my chest... leaned down to plant kisses on my chest... raised up to plant kisses on his wife's tits... and then he left me alone with his wife, so she could pleasure herself... and me... uninterrupted... while riding up and down my extremely hard cock.

I didn't really know what John was doing when he came back... he just stood behind Ginny beyond my feet, as though he's gonna watch... never thought anything of it when Ginny lowered herself, sliding her hands through the mud, bringing her fingers up to clutch my shoulders from underneath, bringing her breasts down to rub on my chest... but then I saw John move up behind her, standing above us, his feet straddling both of us... he was stroking himself... his hand and his cock all gooey... and then... he crouched down on his haunches... inserted himself to Ginny's other hole... the available hole... her asshole... 

Now, there is something I should point out to you... in case you hadn't thought of it yourself... I've talked plenty about what a strong man John is... taking the punishment we give him... shooting wads of cum anytime we ask him to... but think about this... for six days, Ginny'd been taking John's cock and my cock into her pussy hole and her asshole... and she'd been taking us multiple times per day.

The point is that Ginny is one strong woman, taking both my cock and John's cock again and again, servicing us inside her loving holes, and never showing any ill effects from our invasions... Now, that's what I call countrified stamina...

And in case you're wondering why I have not described Ginny for you... it is because she belongs to us... first John... then me... we don't want you to know what she looks like... you will just have to use your imagination... 

But I will tell you this... Instantly, her pussy came alive... her vaginal walls tensed around me tight... like they were charged with electricity... and as John slowly worked his fat cock into her ass deeper and deeper, her powerful pussy turned into a vibrator... holy shit, my cock felt like a thousand little ants were crawling all over it... fire ants... her pussy was on fire... it kept getting hotter... especially when her husband achieved full penetration... laid his chest onto her back... rammed his fat sausage into her gut... he pressed down on her... she pressed down on me... my cock in her pussy as deep as I could go... her pelvic bone pressing mine... why the poor thing... eight inches of hard man meat spearing her from above and below, from her front side and her back side... 

John put his feet in the mud, raised up on his haunches, grabbed his woman by her hips... lifted her ass up to take his cock... slammed her pussy down to take my cock... he manhandled her... shared her with me... slammed her back and forth... up for him... down for me... she was writhing like a madwoman... rubbing her tits on my furred chest... digging her fingers into my shoulder blades... locking our mouths together... fucking my throat with her out of control tongue... 

John did all the work... manipulating our vessel... raising up her ass, spearing her with his cock... slamming her back down... impaling her with my cock... she took us like a pro... her muscles crushing the both of us... in her ass... in her vagina... he was picking up the pace, his forearms, biceps and triceps working hard... like a fine-tuned machine... the friction of her electrified pussy took me to the brink... her tits rubbing my chest sent me teetering on the precipice... I's losing my balance... losing my senses... her tongue penetrated my throat... I wanted to grunt... I wanted to groan... wanted to scream, but I's too busy sucking her tongue... I didn't know what the hell I's doing anyway... my cock'd never felt anything like this before... my brain was in never-never land... taken to some place no drug can equal... my cock kept growing inside her... felt like a 20-incher... John'd lift her up... I'd gain another inch... John'd slam her down... my cock'd touch his... she was riding me like a stallion... I was hung like a draft horse... my nuts were shrinking... down to nothing... two little peas in a pod ready to fire their load... and John worked the three of us like a steam engine... up and down and up and down and oh my god i'll shoot a load to the fucking moon... etc... orgasm... 

I don't even remember what happened there for awhile... ha... shit I almost passed out on that one... couldn't tell you who shot first... or the what... or uh, how it all ended... all I remember is that we were stacked like pancakes... John on top of Ginny, Ginny on top of me... as I slowly sank into the mud... and after things had calmed down a bit... John'd slipped out of Ginny... Ginny took herself off of me... and the Crosby's laid on either side of me... me, on my back... they, on their sides... John's hairy thigh across my belly... both their hands rubbing my chest... with mud, ha... and both of 'em kissing me... on my cheeks... on my mouth... that's right, both John and Ginny Crosby were taking turns... kissing me on my mouth... guess you could say that's how they showed their appreciation... actions speak louder than words... 

The Crosbys and I took us another swim, watched the sun set over that same rise from which we'd come... then we climbed the ladder onto John's little dock... didn't bother putting our clothes back on... took us a shower when we got to the house... this time we conserved water... showered together... spent the rest of our time together... fondling one another... giving each other back rubs... and front rubs... working ourselves up for more rounds of multiple insertions... all in the comfort of their upstairs bedroom...

Saturday morning, they went their way and I went mine... all three of us with enough memories to last a lifetime... all three of us burning with anticipation... for the time when we could once again... show our... appreciation... 

And we have done just that... several times... will continue to do so, best I can tell... more fodder for my broadcasts... more fodder for my... ha... raging hard on... mmm, mmm... just thinking about John and Ginny Crosby is all it takes.

That is the end of this story. 

  

  

Farmer John, Ginny and Jasper - Part 8

And it came to pass that John Crosby was made to rise, to stand upon his bare feet, his padded leather straps now wrapping his wrists. Too exhausted and humbled to struggle against his tormentors, he trudged to his position beneath the scene of his previous torture. He was ordered to raise both hands above his head, this done by his wife, who stood on the second step of her stepladder behind him. Standing in front of him, the woman's faithful assistant wrapped both of his arms around the captive man's mighty chest, pressed his cheek to the center of that chest and lifted the victim until both of his feet left the ground. 

Surrendered, the condemned man latched onto the horizontal bar with both hands, just as he was ordered to do, while the cruel woman opened one by one the metal eye hooks imbedded to his wrist straps, hooking and closing them to matching notches of the horizontal bar. Spread apart wide were his hands, and once he was properly secured, the female joined her assistant on the ground, told him to release her prisoner's chest from the bear hug, ordered her prisoner to let go the horizontal bar.

Ginny... when are we gonna have our breakfast?

Right now, Jasper... will microwave oatmeal work for you?

Ha... that Ginny, always comes prepared... oatmeal is not the most exciting prospect I can think of for breakfast, but hell, I just needed for something to be in my stomach... and a little coffee wouldn't have hurt either. I got both. Ginny had everything she needed in John's workshop... directly above where John was abandoned to hang suspended from his bar. 

We left the trap door open, just so we could look down into the dungeon every now and then... see what he was up to... ha... he'd latch onto the bar with his hands, raise himself up to relieve the pressure on his chest... and then let gravity resume working on him with its full suspension.

I reckon it was right around noon, either before or after... and the air conditioner that cooled both the workshop and the dungeon hummed with efficiency... the workshop was comfortable, the dungeon was not... that's because Ginny'd shut off the vent fan that John had built to connect ground level to underground level... but at least by having the trap door open while we were up above him, John did get a bit of relief... a very small bit... 

It took us about 30 minutes to fix and consume our snack... at which time we also did some strategery before descending the stairs and closing the trap door... instantly, we realized just how miserably hot the dungeon had become... but remember, I told you we were looking for something dramatic... 

And so, John Crosby, stripped to his jock strap, muscles aching, skin drenched in sweat, entered a new realm of torture... unspeakable in its brutality... unholy in its ever increasing, lingering agony, a torment from ancient times, utilized most efficiently by the Romans... to not only punish and execute, but also to display before the public a condemned man, to degrade him before the eyes of all who dared watch, to be made an example, lest any other man get ideas of commiting such a foul crime... it is a hideous torture of unimaginable suffering... it is the torture of crucifixion... 

Just like before... when he was hanging upside down... Ginny and I stalked him... circled him... inspected him... and nearly melted at the sight of him... his muscled legs hanging freely, toes inches from floor... his engorged phallus centering his thighs, filling its fabric prison, bringing the strap with it, completely exposing his belly, exposing his beginnings of pubic hair... his rock solid abdomen compressed from stretching, each line of muscle coming to life with each dramatic exhale of his breath, his powerful chest expanded, thrust forward, laterals flared, as he forcefully brought oxygen to his compressed lungs. His bushy-haired armpits nearly black with sweat... his hairs matted, skin beneath them emitting a manly musk... his arms inflated like balloons, spread in a wide V, biceps and triceps bulging, forearms straining against his crucifixion torture... streams of sweat trickled from his scalp to his forehead and into his eyes... he blinked... stared foreward... lowered his head to gaze down the length of his racked body... gravity stretching him... his own weight torturing him... 

And as the light in our underground dungeon shimmered off his sweat-glistening skin, every muscle in his powerful body came to life... every line and curve highlighted, as he struggled to breathe, as he flexed to withstand his agony... as he performed, for us... and as we scanned every inch of him with our eyes, as we listened to the slight groans coming from the depths of his chest with every exhale of his breath...a mysterious glow surrounded him... dazzling light reflecting off his sweat-layered skin.

Ginny and I were hypnotized... no longer was he merely John Crosby, our farmer John, our plaything, our strong-assed muscle stud... no, suddenly, John Crosby became a thing of indescribable beauty... the epitome of masculine design, the ultimate composition of the male form... an other-wordly sculpturing of hair and muscle and sweat and manliness... no longer a man, but a man-god, worthy of our praise... and we responded accordingly. 

I said... go, woman, run to him... comfort him while you still can... for not even a man of his incredible strength can withstand punishment such as this... even he will eventually succumb to this devastating torture... his...  death... by crucifixion... 

And she did run to him, encircling him inside her vise, standing on her toe tips, her arms wrapping his back, her face buried to his chest... she smeared herself with his sweat, tasted him with her lips, with her tongue, while sobbing for him... oh, you pitiful man... why must you suffer so... mmm, slurp... what have you done to deserve such agony, such punishment... her face made a path from his chest to his stomach, from his stomach to his belly, kissing and licking every inch of him... No man deserves to die like this... no man can withstand torture such as this... she fell to her knees... wrapping his legs in her arms... kissing his thighs, his knees, his shins, lowering herself to kiss his ankles, the tops of his feet... oh, my god, I can't bear it... how much longer must you be made to suffer... how could any torture be more agonizing than this...

I answered her question, as though a Roman tribune... I will show you how, woman... guards, strip him... at which time I yanked his jock strap down to his knees, allowing it to fall on her kissing his feet head... 

OH, GOD NO! How could you? She knelt with her body erect, hands clasped together in begging, his cloth falling uselessly to the floor below his feet... Is there no mercy for this pitiful man? 

I sneered at her pleading... Mercy? HA! Unholy death awaits him, but not only that, he also will suffer the ultimate humiliation... now he's stripped of everything, his mighty phallus exposed for all to see... ha, the final insult... he will be mocked, entertainment for us, total degradation for him, his naked body tortured for hours... hanging from the cross, his naked body, crucified.  

My victim played his part well. He dropped his chin to his chest with a groan of despair. His penis, filled with blood, pierced the air in front of him, a perfectly horizontal spear... two inches of thickness, eight inches of length... (gasp) a sight to behold... and right below his mighty weapon, his monumental testicles hung low... suspended, waiting, same as their owner... their roundness exaggerated... their insides filled with semen, their skin stretched tight, ready to burst open. 

And in a glorious display of brute strength... this crucified man presented himself... he raised his head, strained his arms, and lifted his body towards the ceiling, arched his back, thrust forward his chest, thrust forward his magnificent cock... and cried out to the heavens... let it be finished... merciful gods... take me... now... 

And as his body collapsed back into full suspension, take him we did... I grabbed Ginny by the arm, made her stand up... I got behind her, locked my arms behind her knees and lifted her... moved her towards him... connected her with him... her legs straddling him... her pussy engulfing him... she impaled herself upon his mighty phallus, her hands clutching onto his shoulders, her ankles crossed and locking together behind and between his knees, her body hanging from his, his powerful rod connecting them...  and this incredible man incorporated the weight of two, fully grown, adult human bodies into his suspended crucifixion... 

Oh, what a fucking man... she thrust her pussy upon him, to and fro, spearing herself with his mighty tool... she pressed her tits against his chest... rubbing her nipples into his sweat-drenched hairs... their bodies squished together... chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis... woman screeching with ecstasy, man groaning with ecstasy and agony... 

And from behind our crucified hero... I joined them... On the step ladder, I hugged his belly with my arms, helped him support himself and his woman... helped him thrust his cock in unison with his woman, rubbed my cockhead into the wetness of his lower back... his sweat, my lubrication, his man hairs, my friction... man and woman fucked... Roman tormentor masturbated himself onto crucified man... the room was hot... our sweat flying in all directions... this torture was hot... this three-way fuck slash jackoff was hot, we melted together... my cock rubbing his back, his cock impaling her pussy, her pussy riding his cock... and with explosions of man juice and woman juice we grunted and we groaned and we shrieked... sounds of agony, sounds of ecstasy, sounds of the prehistoric, sounds of wild beastly animals... we shook the rafters while hanging from the god damn rafters... and together, we ended all suffering.  

Oh yes, John Crosby, you are correct, it is finished... god damn... have you ever been crucified and masturbated on? have you ever been crucified and fucked by a hot pussy? how long do you think you could take it? think you're man enough?  tough enough to hang there struggling to breathe, while some crazed woman brutalizes your cock? riding back and forth on you, force fucking you, when your chest feels like it's about to collapse, when it takes every ounce of your strength just to breathe? hmm? think you're man enough? Our man was man enough... fucking he-man, fucking pussy-filling masterpiece, fucking super stud... god damn he drives us crazy... he is everything a man ought to be... and even after Ginny jumped down and I joined her, his cock was still filled with blood, shining with woman juice... man syrup dribbling from its slit... his body still hanging there, breathing hard, still defiant, still muscle-flexing, still waiting for us to do whatever the fuck we wanted to do with him. Holy fucking shit...

For six days we'd kept this man busy... but don't you think for a second it was over... oh, sure, this was my last full day to be with them... before they had to go pick up their daughter from summer camp or wherever the hell she was... No, Ginny and I still had plenty we wanted to do with him. And even though this chapter is over, my testosterone rages on... that is why I'm going to end this and relish it.... save the final part, the end of Jasper McCutcheon's vacation, for telling next week. It will all come to a head... but for right now... goodbye, and sweet dreams. 

 

Farmer John, Ginny and Jasper - Part 7

I awoke to someone shaking my shoulder. Ginny, frantic, saying, Jasper, wake up.... John has escaped.

Huh? Oh, no... he wouldn't... not after five days... any ideas where he might've gone to... to, light up?

Well, slip on some shoes, Jasper... let's see if we can catch him in the act. 

Ginny led the way out the back door of their house... the Friday morning sun no more than a few inches above the horizon... I was in my tennis shoes and underwear... Ginny in tennis shoes, panties and t-shirt... through the open barn doors we ventured... to the back of the barn... into the former corn crib... through the open trap door... and down to the Crosby dungeon...

There he was... upside down... hanging from a horizontal bar bolted to wooden ceiling beam... his ankles in leather straps hooked to the bar... foam padding inside the leather straps... his legs spread wide... his arms hanging free... straight down... fingers... inches from the floor... and the only thing he had on him... was an athletic jock strap... which prevented his dick from hanging down on his belly... no, instead, bulging inside its pouch, John's cock pointed straight forward... with his nuts exposed... dangling on either side of the fabric... ha... obviously, Ginny had already caught her husband in the act... 

John goes... Jasper... this here's my ball munching configuration... so get to munching...

Although it was tempting, I did not fall for his trap... I said, hey, John Crosby, I don't know who you think you are... I take my orders from Ginny, not you... so what do you say, Ginny... about his balls? 

She goes... oh, he's got balls, that's for sure... let me tell you what he did... he crawled over the top of you... left our bed without permission... trying to sneak off somewhere... so I watched him quietly leave the room... heard him creep down the stairs... at which time I left the bedroom to follow him... watched him step into his outside boots that he keeps by the kitchen door... heard the door open and close... I peeked out the window... watched him go inside the barn... so I put on my shoes to follow him... saw him go into his workshop... where the corn crib used to be... and I rushed in just as he was about to light up a cigarette... he had an entire pack hidden inside his toolbox... 

John goes... Jasper... she broke that cigarette right in two... such a waste.

Not only that, Jasper... I grabbed the rest of the pack... dropped 'em to the floor and stomped on them...  

Good for you, Ginny... 

You should have seen him... drooping his head like he's a whipped dog... 

Well, that's exactly what he is... oughtta be ashamed of himself... 

I told him to get his ass down those stairs and suspend himself in these ankle straps... told him not to make a sound until I got back... that's when I came to get you, Jasper. 

Well, thank god you were awake, Ginny... he would have thrown away all of our hard work... can you imagine that... after all we've done for him... this is how he shows his gratitude. 

I know, Jasper... hard to believe, isn't it. 

Yes, it is, Ginny...

The good news is... we have saved him from himself, again... the bad news is... he's just too damn strong for his own good... we're going have to punish him for a long time before we can... get our message through that thick skull of his... 

John says... Well... whatever you're going to do... I wish you'd both shut the hell up and get on with it.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, would be the last words spoken by John Crosby for quite some time... because Ginny Crosby told me to go to the storage cabinet and get her duct tape... remember duct tape? I told you it would come into play, eventually... John got a wide strip stuck to his mouth... after Ginny told him to open his mouth about half way... and better yet... Ginny used an ink pen to poke a hole in the center of his duct tape gag... and into this hole she inserted a salvaged cigarette...  unlit... mangled, but still intact. 

She goes... There, mister... suck on that, you want one so bad... 

And the sad thing is... he did suck on it, grumbling underneath his duct tape for us to light it up for him... I said, Ginny... look at that... is that not pathetic?

Tragic, might be more accurate...

Yes, tragically beautiful... well, Ginny, seems to me we've got to find something for his lungs to do... take his mind off of his desires... 

Hmm... well, Jasper, why don't we kill two birds with one stone?

Ok, what did you have in mind?

Well, Jasper, his body is speaking to me, as though it's begging to be stretched.

Ah... as in, stretched on the rack? 

Not only that, I also want him to exert himself... make him fill his lungs with air, rather than smoke. 

She pointed to John's workout bench... do you remember his workout bench? Oh, yes... how he did suffer on that thing... but this time, Ginny told me to bring those two dumb bells sitting on the floor underneath his workout bench... I was more than happy to oblige her... Now, as I reached down to pick those things up... I counted... three, ten-pound plates on each side... for each dumb bell... I rolled them out... did a squat, grabbed 'em... used my legs to bring those things up... and made my way towards... hanging upside down John...

Take 'em, mister... instructed, Ginny... one at a time, 65 pounds was transferred from each of my hands, to each of John's hands... 130 pounds of gravity stretching him... from his split wide open legs down to his straight line arms and strong-ass, clutching onto dumbbell hands... ah, the muscles exploded in his chest, belly, biceps, triceps, thighs, shoulders, back, and buttocks, as Ginny and I slowly circled him like vultures, inspecting every inch of our masculine marvel... oh, yes, he was gloriously stretched, vertically... on the rack. 

Now, the fun began... Ginny knelt down in front of his face... removed the cigarette from his duct tape hole... and said, bring those to your chest... give me ten of 'em... John raised those dumbbells straight up, elbows bending toward us, pressed them onto his chest, and then slowly lowered them... and while he did this exercise, Ginny and I stripped... 

About time we got naked... whew, oh, perhaps I forgot to mention that for... whatever reason, Ginny had turned off the air conditioner in that... now stifling, underground dungeon of theirs... and even though it was still early morning, the temperature was rapidly rising...

By the time John'd reached the count of eight... his arm pits were moist... little beads of sweat had formed on his chest hairs... his belly hairs... and as he completed his first repetition of dumbbell lifts... allowing his arms to hang straight down... allowing 130 pounds to resume his stretch rack torture... John Crosby sounded like a vacuum pump, his nostrils flaring... his mouth, sucking air through that tiny hole in his duct tape.

Ginny gave him about 30 seconds of rest... no more... then she goes, give me flies, mister... twenty of 'em... our strong man lifted 130 pounds to his ear level... elbows bending out... 90 degree angles... his pectorals expanded... his belly flexed tight... every line and curve rising to the surface... he brought his dumbells up fast... let them down slow... straining every muscle... his skin starting to glisten... his voice starting to grunt on his exhales... and as John Crosby completed his 19th lift, his arms lowered, pumped to lift and lower for the final time... Ginny grabbed my hand and we knelt before him, watched up close as he raised his dumbbells, his task nearly finished... until Ginny said... hold it right there mister... he was only halfway finished with his final lift... dumbbells parallel with his ears, arms and chest locked in his struggle to keep them there... Ginny reached for his shrunken tit, told me to grab the other one... we pinched on 'em, tugged on 'em... twisted them... John's body was locked in place... his rock solid muscles... flexing... his muscle-pumped skin... drenched with sweat... his cock doing everything in its power to break out of its fabric prison... the cloth, stretched tight... separating his nuts... 

Ginny goes... Jasper, get the step ladder, climb up there behind him... give him what he wants... there were 3 steps on the ladder... I needed two... my face emerged... inside his wishbone... I opened my mouth... I've called 'em his bull nuts... I've said they were like oranges... each one of 'em is in reality two and one half inches in diameter... do you hear me? Each of John Crosby's nuts is two and one half inches filled with his manly come... fucking monsters... I engulfed the right one, caressed it with my lips... licked it with my tongue, tasted his brine... I finger pinched his left nut... tugging its skin... tugging its hairs... twisting its sweat-covered flesh... Ginny continued pinching his tits... I worshiped his nuts... while the mighty John Crosby hung there upside down... holding his dumbbells at his ears... straining every muscle... grunting, groaning... his hard cock bouncing inside its fabric prison... wiggling like a giant worm... a monstrosity... a writhing sea serpent... and as Ginny gave him permission to finish his rep... he let his arms drop... weight of the dumbbells stretching him again... his vacuum pump struggling for oxygen.

I altered my attack, munched on his left nut... pinched on his right... removed his salt, replaced it with my spit... while Ginny kept working his tits, gave him an order that caused him to whimper... 20 more flies, mister... now!

He strained to raise his arms... his muscles had not been given time to recover... they were burning... they were weak... but still, his belly exploded with power, triceps, biceps, pectorals inflating with blood, pumped to capacity... he groaned with each lift... muffled by duct tape... he sucked in air through his nostrils... their holes wide open... and as his pace became lethargic, as his muscles reached their limits of endurance, Ginny let go his tits, stood up, unleashed a furious assault of fists to his hard belly... ah, shit... and I'm right there close... looking down at his belly... her knuckles smacking against his brick wall... his sweat flying in all directions... hell, he didn't even feel those punches... he was too busy concentrating on his task... his belly flexed tight... as I scraped the skin off his nuts with my tongue... his legs spread wide open... his throbbing cock pointing forward... imprisoned by fabric... I grabbed it with my fingers... fabric separating me from him... I squeezed on his shaft... crushed him in my grip... licked on his nuts... the left one, the right one... while Ginny kept pounding on him... punching on his hard gut... and John counted for us... groaning like a man... 18... 19... 20...

John's body collapsed... dumbbells straight down, stretching him on the rack... Ginny picked up that cigarette... struck a match... lit the damn thing, sucked with her mouth to get it going... kept the smoke in her mouth... blew out the smoke before it could get inside her lungs... here, mister... smoke this... she tried to stick it in his duct tape hole... but he turned his head... here damn, you... I said smoke this... she ripped off his duct tape...  

(John) No... (heavy breathing)... get it away from me... don't want it... you can't make me... I... uh... please, don't make me... get that nasty thing away from me... I can't stand the smell of it... it's making me sick... can't breath... think I'm gonna puke... no... please.

We broke him...

Ginny and I looked at one another... grinning from ear to ear... ha... I stepped down, took the dumbbells from John's failing grip and set them on the floor... then I grabbed Ginny, hugged her... kissed her... took the cigarette away from her and carried it into the bathroom, flushed it down the toilet.

When I got back, John was still hanging... breathing heavy, filling his hard-working lungs with hot, but fresh... air... Ginny climbed the step ladder, while I wrapped my arms around John, pressed my face into his, sweat-slick belly. I lifted him up so Ginny could unhook his ankle straps... and I gently lowered him until his hands reached the floor... supported him, until he got his feet on the floor... and then, we laid him on his back... removed his ankle straps... transferred them to another place...

And now, cousins... I am going to torture you... you wanna know how? I will tell you that we are not finished with John Crosby... not by a long shot... he pissed us off... ok? That was a shitload of hard work he put us through... and we were not happy about it... we were pleased with ourselves for having helped him... but at the same time, we both felt like wailing away on him with our fists... and believe you me, we could have done just that... John was too exhausted to defend himself from anything we wanted to do... but that would have been too easy.

No, we needed something a little more dramatic... and for that part of the story... you are gonna have to wait... that's how I am going to torture you... ha... so, until next time, this is Jasper McCutcheon... good night... good wank... and sweet dreams. 

  

Farmer John, Ginny and Jasper - Part 6

Now, about the time John was inviting me to leave the guest bedroom to join him and Ginny in their bedroom... John's 24 hour anniversary passed by unnoticed... his first full day of going nicotine free... and it went by unnoticed because there is nothing to celebrate... the second day is worse than the first... I had already told Ginny that our best play was to not mention the subject at all unless we absolutely had to... and it was my intention to keep him in bed as long as he'd stay... because sleeping is just about the best way to get through it...

Sex is another good way... unfortunately, John... like most people who smoke... made it a habit to light up right after sex... and even John couldn't keep his dick going all day long without a break... so we did our best to keep him in bed with dozing, while we loved on him with our hands and lips... told him to get on his belly so we could take turns massaging his muscles... Ginny'd do his back while I did his legs... then we'd switch so I could do his back while she did his legs... then they worked on me the same way... and THEN... John and I worked on Ginny... 

Do I need bother telling you that we both ended up at the tops of her mountainous breasts? Well, I'll tell you anyway... John had the left one and I had the right... and what started with hands and thumbs progressed to lips and tongues... and what started with her titties progressed to her vagina... I made that move, slowly working my mouth onto first her belly, then her pussy hole... I feasted upon her... my first meal of the day... and while John positioned himself in a squat above her face... so she could put her mouth to his dangling bull nuts... I raised up on all fours and put my hard cock to her salivating vagina... and while I slowly thrust myself into her, clipping her clittie with my corona... she grabbed her husband's dick and crammed it into her mouth... his knees on either side of her head, her head propped up on two pillows... his hands clutching the headboard... his butt giving me just enough room so I could put my mouth to her titties while long stroking her pussy with my power tool. 

God, what a team we had become... working in such magical synchronization... connecting ourselves strictly with movements... no need to verbalize what we wanted to do... we just did it... and loved it... 

It was about noontime when we finally wallowed out of that bed. I figured that with this being a farm family... breakfast would be a big deal... you know, the works... and while usually that was the case... on this day it was not. After we all showered and dressed... Ginny fixed us oatmeal and toast... then John and I headed out to perform an abbreviated version of his daily duties. 

He and I piled into his Silverado pickup truck... first stop... 120 acres worth of soybeans... he parked... and we got out to inspect the flowering plants for insects... we walked the rows side by side for about an hour... me instructed to alert him to any bugs I saw... he knowing which ones were unimportant and which ones were not... didn't see any bad insects, so we drove to his second field... 90 acres of corn, and went through the same routine...

John didn't say much as we were doing our chores... and neither did I... I figured he was pining for a cigarette pretty bad... I also suspect he had a pack in the glove box directly in front of my knees... you know, for emergencies... and I also know that had I not been there he would have smoked one by now... as for me, I was satisfied to reminisce silently about all that had transpired so far... and the number one thought in my brain was this... if we continued at the same pace we'd set for ourselves up to this point in time... well... this was going to rank as one of my best-ever vacations... I just hoped that my peter could hang in there with these two, sex-crazed, wild-ass country people. 

It took us awhile to inventory the cattle... not that they were in separate pastures, but some were clustered in tree growth, some congregated around the pond and some grazed in open field... so John had to drive from one area to another and count... had me count 'em too, since I didn't have anything better to do... but as John drove near the pond, I just had to ask him something...

Hey, John, did you ever have any cool downs here in this pond? Like you and Harold and Kurt did at Hoover's pond?

No, Jasper... my brother or my dad could have shown up at any time here... besides, as you can see this pond is out in the open... Hoover's had a cluster of trees nearby which kinda kept us hidden... 

Well, I can see where you wouldn't want to be carrying on with anybody while your dad and brother were on the property somewhere... even if you were hidden... oh, ladies and gentlemen, by the way... this refers to some boyhood sexual explorations done by John and his two buddies when they were teenagers hauling hay in the summertime... if you want to hear Jardonn's version of the events, I did a scripted rendition of it called From Out of Nowhere... he added a bunch of anal stuff to spice it up... changed a whole bunch of shit to make it more his story than my and John's story... but the bottom line is... this is where and how I first met John Crosby... and it was a one on one situation... John just told me about what he and those other two fellas used to do... and I, shall we say, seized the moment.

Anyway, as we now return to the Crosby pond... John Crosby made a rather startling announcement... 

He goes... Jasper, I want you to know that you saved my marriage.

Oh, did I now... do you care to explain how I did that?

Ha... well, not exactly the marriage, just the bedroom part of it. 

Oh, you mean this tortured hero business?

Damn right... hell, you know what can happen when you're married... after you have a kid or two, you fall into the trap... sex on a schedule... same thing once every other day or so... same position... do your thing, usually in the dark and quiet so the kid doesn't hear you... then it gets to be once a week... then every other week... and before long you just don't give a shit anymore. 

Yeah... I know... I've heard this sad tale far too often... about people getting bored with one another... Is that how Ginny felt about it too?

Probably... we never talked about it... make no mistake... she worships me... always has... case you couldn't already tell... 

Oh, I could tell right off... and we already talked about how lucky you are...

No doubt about that... and I feel the same about her... it was just boredom like you say, that's all it was... and more my fault than hers... but when you resurrected those old games... well, Ginny jumped right on it... and since then, I've been firing loads like I's 14 all over again. 

Ha... well, shit, John... tell me something I don't know.

Ok, I will... first of all... there should be 94 head of cattle in this pasture... how many have you counted? 

Uh, 96.

See, Jasper, that's why you could never be a farmer... you have got to keep your eye on every living thing that you own.

No arguments here, John... too much responsibility for me, too much stress. I load and off-load truck trailers eight hours a day... then I go home... end of story. 

And you fuck. 

Oh, yeah... I do plenty of that... and I suck and I eat...

And you're damn good at all of it, Jasper... speakin' of eatin'... we're meeting Ginny for lunch.

Lunch? It's nearly 4 in the afternoon. 

Well, Jasper, we're on our vacation schedule now, aren't we... and I say it's time for lunch... after our swim. 

And with that, John headed for Wilson's creek... on his property... named for his great, great-grandfather Wilson Crosby who laid claim to this spot of earth after the Civil War. Ginny was there waiting for us, having backed up the bed of a humongous dually pickup, also a Chevy, right next to the water... tailgate down. 

Come on boys... said the naked lady submerged in water halfway covering her titties... time to rinse away your sweat. We stripped... and we joined her... Now here was a hole much deeper than the rest of the creek... and this is where we swam and frolicked... eventually, John and Ginny were standing in water up to their necks... hugging and kissing one another. 

John goes... come on, Jasper... get up here behind Ginny so I can hug the both of you... I did and he grabbed my shoulder blades... pulled me towards him... crushing her between us... her poor titties smashed against his chest... 

Ginny goes... my god, you two... I think I've died and gone to heaven... just melting away here between my pair of... hot, sexy men... Ha... I kissed her neck... kissed her shoulders, back of her moistened head... John rubbed his wet chest against her wet titties... clamped us all together in his powerful arms... sucked on his wife's tongue... I got my hands on his shoulder blades... squeezed us together even tighter... I felt reverberations running up and down her spine when John inserted his cock to her pussy hole... and Ginny unlocked her mouth from John's .. looked up to the overhanging branches... and gasped... oh, my god, you two are driving me crazy... I can't get enough... Jasper... I want you... in the back of the truck... in the basket... get the jar... jar of vaseline... get in me, Jasper... gotta have you both... go. 

I separated... found what she wanted... lubed my cock... kept a healthy gob on my hand... kept it above water until I's behind her again... lubed up her ass... inserted myself slowly... waited for her to accept me... slipped my hands between John's belly and hers... pulled her belly towards me... came forward with my cock... listened to her groans of pleasure... told John to squeeze us together... he grabbed my shoulder blades and I got his... and together... we double impaled our precious Ginny... we thrust our hard dicks into her as deep as we could go... the head of my cock making contact with his... inside of her... ha... at least it felt like it... in unison, Ginny's men retracted... in unison, Ginny's men came forward... we crushed her between us... connected ourselves inside her... shish kabobbed her... John and I were in perfect harmony... retracting and thrusting in a synchronized partnership... a double impalement of the two female holes...  our woman collapsed... her body overwhelmed by our two-pronged dominance... but her body could not collapse... we held her aloft... crushed her between us... our manly chests enveloping her in our wet and fur-covered vise... our mighty cocks penetrating her from opposite directions...    

She tried to contort... she tried to convulse, but there was no room for her movement... shockwaves caused her body to quiver... moans of uncontrolled female pleasure drowned out the streaming current... grunts of caveman dominance drowned out her female moans, as Ginny became a rag doll... all resistance gone... consumed with surrender... consumed with ecstasy... female screams drowned out male grunts... female milk exploded inside vaginal walls... male milk gushed inside rectal walls... a third explosion... male milk flooding female pussy... three human bodies melted... our heat cooled by bubbling water... John's fingers dug into me deep, mine disappeared into him... Ginny's breasts all but disappeared... crushed and stimulated by masculine pectorals... and as the throes of triple orgasm rendered us ALL useless rags... we all three collapsed... our knees faltering... two male cocks slipping out of heated darkness and into cooling liquid... ah... steam... shshshshs...

None of us were hungry for food... we were hungry for each other... and as one we made our way to the shallows near bankside... where we could float... Ginny, centered between her men, our bodies submerged, nearly horizontal... our heads aloft, so we could kiss... so John could kiss Ginny, so I could kiss Ginny, so Ginny could kiss the both of us...

And with our hands we felt one another... our skin soothed by Wilson's creek, protected from hot air of July... and it became quite clear to all of us that... we were finding it more and more difficult to keep our hands to ourselves... and it was inevitable that what we started with our hands would progress to lips and tongues... and with two men sucking on two female breasts... it became even more clear that... all inhibitions were falling by the wayside... John and Ginny Crosby were 100 percent comfortable with me... and I with them... no hidden jealousies over who was doing what to whom, no hurt feelings as to why John was needing my special talents when our paths crossed... no questioning as to why for nearly two years he'd finagled ways to... secretly connect with me in that hotel room... no resistance as to why John finally decided to share his love for Ginny with me... it is because he loves her that he told her about us... because he knew just how much she does love him... and it is because she loves him that he knew he could trust her... to keep his secrets secret... and it is because she loves him that she embraced the chance to fulfill his needs. A new spark to re-energize what was slipping away from them... that's what I represent to Ginny... and to John... and believe you me, I count my blessings every day... because I am that spark... I am the privileged soul who is lucky enough to be a part of their SECOND life... their new-found lust... to rekindle and solidify what was already there... their never-ending passion... for one another.

Yes, we did get off again, all three of us, then we finally got around to the meal Ginny'd brought for us to eat... which we devoured while sitting on the dually's tailgate... naked... our feet dangling in the cool water... 

Now, these things I've described for you... from the time we left their under the barn dungeon until our fornication in Wilson's creek... that pretty much became our routine for the next several days... as I continued to stick with John like flypaper 24 hours a day... whether he was sleeping, working, or sexing... but don't you worry... there will be variations on this theme... otherwise... the story would for all intents and purposes be over... but it's not over... John's got a long way to go to get through his misery... while Ginny and I've got a... few more ideas on ways to keep him occupied. 

As for now... we will leave it at the creek... and fantasize of multiple orgasms in hot July.

Part 7 in a week