Farmhouse Secrets: A Friday Drive

The rain had stopped, leaving behind a humid, heavy air that clung to everything. Ron adjusted the straps of his worn leather jacket, pulling it tighter around himself as he navigated the rutted dirt road leading to the abandoned farm. Anne, beside him in the truck, shifted restlessly, her anticipation palpable. They’d driven for nearly an hour, leaving their teenagers home with a carefully crafted excuse about needing some “alone time,” a sentiment that felt particularly potent tonight. This place, this secluded spot miles from civilization, was Ron’s idea – a meticulously planned escape from the mundane, a chance to reconnect amidst the solitude. The air hung thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying wood, the remnants of a forgotten life clinging to the skeletal remains of the farmhouse. The deck, weathered and splintered, was their sanctuary.

As they stepped out of the truck, the cool evening air kissed their skin, a welcome relief from the day’s heat. The structure was smaller than Ron had described, just a simple wooden platform raised slightly above the ground, but it possessed an undeniable charm. The absence of windows and doors only amplified the sense of privacy, of being completely cut off from the outside world. Ron, ever the pragmatist, quickly got to work, gathering dry branches and twigs to build a small fire in the fire pit he’d scouted earlier. The flames crackled to life, casting flickering shadows on the surrounding trees, and soon, a warm glow filled the small space.

Anne, already anticipating the intimacy of the moment, lay back on the deck, spreading her legs slightly, her white cotton panties a stark contrast against the dark wood. Ron joined her, settling beside her, and the conversation began, initially light and airy, discussing the weather, the kids, anything to fill the comfortable silence. But as the fire burned lower, casting an even more intimate light, Ron’s gaze drifted downwards, his eyes lingering on Anne’s exposed legs.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “it’s quite a turn-on being here, just the two of us.”

Anne’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected this, this raw honesty, this blatant acknowledgment of her desires. She simply lay there, eyes closed, letting the words sink in, a shiver tracing its way down her spine.

Ron slowly reached out, his hand brushing against the top snap of her jeans. The touch was feather-light, almost hesitant, but it sent a jolt through her body. Then, with a decisive movement, he unzipped the jeans, pulling them down until they fell open, exposing the front of her white panties. The delicate fabric barely concealed the dark brown curls beneath, highlighting the curve of her pussy. It was a deliberate display, a calculated invitation.

He knelt before her, pulling the cuffs of her jeans down, revealing the entirety of her backside. The sudden exposure was both exhilarating and unsettling. She felt exposed, vulnerable, yet strangely empowered by the lack of restraint. Ron’s fingers began to trace the outline of her stomach in a slow, sensual massage, each touch sending shivers of anticipation through her. As his hand brushed against the waistband, the panties shifted lower, exposing more of her flesh. With each movement, the thrill intensified, pushing her closer to the edge.

Finally, he reached her pussy, his fingertips teasing the sensitive skin. The sight of her lady lips protruding from her curls, glistening in the firelight, was both captivating and a little frightening. Ron pulled the panties completely off, leaving her completely bare. “How does your pussy feel about seeing the sunshine?” he asked, his voice husky with desire. It was a question, a challenge, and she couldn’t answer. Her silence spoke volumes.

As he looked down, she realized the truth of his words. Being naked outdoors, exposed to the elements, felt primal, liberating, and utterly intoxicating. She let the guilty pleasure wash over her, reveling in the sensation of her bare bottom against the rough wood of the deck, the warmth of the sun on her naked pussy, and the intoxicating scent of pine needles in the air. She arched her back, letting her knees fall apart, and her lips separated, welcoming the heat of the sun and the gentle breeze. The feeling of risk, the forbidden nature of their situation, only heightened her arousal.

Ron began to lightly stroke her pussy lips, his fingers gliding up and down with a deliberate rhythm. He smeared some of the female lubricant leaking from her vagina up her lips to her clitoris, a slow, teasing dance that built anticipation. The pleasure intensified with each touch, and she found herself losing control, succumbing to the overwhelming urge to submit. Her clitoris began to pulsate, and she let out a groan as she reached her peak, contracting repeatedly, her legs trembling with the force of her pleasure. It was a dozen contractions, each one more intense than the last, a visceral expression of her desire.

Exhausted but not satisfied, she grabbed Ron’s hand to stop him as her clitoris became too sensitive. Letting her afterglow wash over her, she slowly relaxed, savoring the lingering sensations and the thrill of being so completely exposed. The longer she lay there, the more she enjoyed the sun and breeze on her naked pussy, her bare derrière against the wood, and the feeling of risk. Even if only Ron could see, choosing to be exposed outdoors was a new and delightful experience.

Finally, she stood and stepped back, facing Ron, spreading her arms and legs as if to say, "Look at me." Ron smiled, a genuine, appreciative smile that reflected his own arousal. He’d suspected this side of his usually extremely modest wife, but never had he witnessed it so clearly. It was a moment of unexpected vulnerability, of raw desire, that left them both breathless.

Surprised by her own boldness, she suddenly realized she wanted another orgasm. She turned to Ron, her voice barely a whisper, and asked him to play with her again. Ron didn't hesitate. He looked at her with admiration, his eyes gleaming with pleasure, and began to gently massage her clitoris once more. It was still wet from the previous round, and the pleasure was even more intense this time. Drops of feminine lubricant leaked from her vagina as he continued his ministrations, each touch a deliberate invitation to deeper sensations.

As the pleasure of his touch intensified, she thought again about the fact that she was wholly exposed OUTSIDE. It was like a switch had been thrown, unleashing a torrent of pent-up desire. With a groan as if the air were being forced from her lungs, she came again, her legs trembling uncontrollably as she reached her peak. She gripped Ron’s shoulders to steady herself, barely able to breathe. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure, a release of inhibitions and expectations.

As he felt her relax after her orgasm, Ron stood and pulled her to him in a most intimate of hugs. She was pleased to feel his erection pressed against her, a testament to his arousal and her own satisfaction. Ron obviously wanted to have sex but seemed confused, unable to imagine any position that wouldn't result in bruised knees for at least one if not both of them on the hard deck surface. He finally asked, “How can we do it? Do we have to wait until we get home?”

Anne released him and turned her back, spreading her legs as if to touch the deck. Her cheeks separated, displaying her still glistening vagina to welcome Ron’s erection. Dropping his shorts and Jockeys and bending his knees slightly, Ron accepted her invitation. With this much foreplay, and her cheeks being so soft and her vagina so warm, he couldn't last more than a couple of strokes before coming.

Spent, he pulled Anne to stand. With one hand across her teats and the other on her pussy, he pressed her cheeks to him as his spent erection slowly slipped from her vagina. She melted against him, and they enjoyed standing there for a moment more – outside, naked – before Anne reached down to get her panties to wipe up the backflow.

Then, staying bottomless, she led him to sit by the little fire. There wasn’t much conversation but a lot of cuddling for the rest of the evening as they both enjoyed the afterglow. Finally, they redressed to head back to their house, children, and responsibilities. Since her panties were soiled with Ron’s cum, Anne chose to go commando. Driving home, she rested her head on his shoulder, thinking it had been a great Friday afternoon, one they definitely needed to repeat.

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