Holidays in the farm.

I dragged the luggage up to my room. My parents and I went every year to our farm in Germany. It was a nice farm than my family rent 5 years ago. I got a single room on the first floor. Was I quite like that.

Immediately after our arrival, there was a welcome drink. A freshly milked and lukewarm milk on top with a thick layer of fat. The farmer’s wife handed me a glass, in which the milk of a cow’s udder all have found a place. She wore whatever their blue and white checkered apron. I could not make that red more glowing that her round cheeks or their knobby nose. Mr Hans wore his work boots. With the thick layer of mud underfoot, His footprints were scattered around the house, and this time there was so one with the kitchen towel on his cap.

That year I was twenty. My clothes I was wearing had changed. It age was awesome. I was in a good university and I took some art classes.

“You look good, Sabrina, so … I do not know ….”

“Older,” added Mr. Hans. He rubbed the gray stubble on his chin. It sat on a grubby neck fold.

“Yes, older and handsome”.

I tugged at my stockings and pulled my hut deeper into his forehead.

“In an hour, there is dinner.”

“Then we have plenty of time to freshen up,” my mother said. “And you, pulling to you!”

We have a pretty family than we want to relax all the time. Although, the big city was stressful. You know.

After dinner, I followed Mr Hans in the cowshed. He led the cows to milking machines and let me watch it.

“They look so relieved from the machine,” I said and moved closer, so I could see the milk flow through the tubes. The cows stood above on a device. Their udders dangled right before my eyes.

“Oh, shit,” I swore. I had leaned over too much and dirty my dress with cow dung.

“Is worse,” said a voice behind me. It was Tom. The son next door.

He strolled in old jeans and a plaid shirt in the barn. He was now two heads taller than I was. “Again in the country?” He grinned. His dark hair clung to his temples. He smelled of horse manure. “You should have worn in the cowshed no dress.” He grinned.

I shrugged. “Do you work for?”

“I still have no closing time,” he said. “My father has been so clamped nen stupid sciatic nerve. At least once a month. Then lies flat for a week. Now almost everything is hanging on me. The horses, the farm. “He groaned.
I looked at his body. Last year we were able to see us in the eye when talking.

“Would you like a cup of tea?”

I nodded. We went to the court of Waidfels and sat in the club room next to the riding school. The room was empty, just the smell of tanned leather and sweat in the air.

“Have you no guest this year?” I asked.

“More than enough. Most sit in the TV room and watch The Horse Whisperer. “

I sat down at a small table next to the glass window and had wonderful views of the riding hall.

Tom brought cups, tea bags and a pot of hot water.

“You’re older now,” he said.

He looked from my hair, my face and deeper. On my breasts he got stuck. Where else?

“Much bigger,” he said.

We drank our hot tea and realized that we had quickly gone out of the conversation. The impartiality of the last year was over.

The next morning the sun shining through the window awakened me. I jumped out of bed, got dressed and made a quick wash. My stomach growled with hunger. At home, I got to twelve not down a bite. I ran down the stairs, it smelled of bread and fresh coffee. The last three steps I took one leap, came out of balance and stumbled down the hall to the front door of the food compartment. I only came to a halt when I bumped into someone, a boy, half a head taller than me. He caught me and looked at me.

“Sorry,” I said, stroking my hair off his forehead. He says nothing, smiled and walked past me. How embarrassing. It was the first day!

My parents sat on the usual place on the left side of the room, next to the window.

“Good morning, Kellie,” my father said. 

“As bad as it was not again”.

“Cocoa or coffee?” Asked my mother.

“Or prefer tea, for the nerves?” Said Father.

“First of all I would like something to eat.” I reached for the breadbasket, but it fell out of my hand when my father shouted, “There it is again. Did the villain probably not broken any bones! “

Steaming coffee flowed across the lap of my father. The breadbasket was flown from the table and had Father Coffee Mug entrained. He cried and my mother dabbed the stains with her napkin.

“What do you do for a theater that’s why!” I grabbed my buns and ran out. The boy looked over at me, but I walked past him. From the point of view I could see glitter its big, bright blue eyes.

“Are you coming with, Shanti? I ride up the slope. We could have a picnic at the edge of the forest? “
Tom held a proud bulging basket in her hand.

“Did anyway by all planned. Why not?”

He led a freshly groomed Connemara Wallach from the barn and handed me the reins.

“Are you coming alone up there?”

I whistled and swung into the saddle. We moved forward at a walking pace. The sun beat down on my head and made the mosquitoes hysterical. I was sweating more than my pony.

“How far is it?”

“Not more than fifteen minutes we are there.”

“Until then, I’m thirsty.”

After half an hour we had reached the edge of the forest. In the shade of the trees it was cool. I leaned against a tree and watched as Tom unwrapped the bread, fruit, eggs and drinks.

“Do not you help today your father?”

“No, twice a week helps us a trainee from the city. He gets on well alone. Would you like juice? “

I grabbed the bottle of water and sat down deeper into the shadows.

“A cold shower would do well now.” I pushed my shirt and let my belly by the wind dry.

“Would you NEN Bikini to take.”

“No, thank you, so are you staring at me all the time on the ass ?!”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Not yet.”

“You’ve become pretty, sexy right.”

Tom moved closer and leaned down next to me on the tree. He ate a sausage sandwich and smacked.

“You stink of salami!”

“Do you like no sausage?”

“No.”

“I’ve also packed cheese rolls.”

“Did not hungry.”

“An Apple perhaps?”

“Are you just here to feed?”

“Yes.” Tom looked at me puzzled. “That is now time for a picnic, though, I’m not just to eat here.” He threw his half-eaten bread into the bushes and leaned toward me. “May I kiss you, Shanti?”

“That’s enough!” I jumped up and put me on my horse.

“What have I now done wrong again ?! That’s what you wanted, right? Tell me that you’ve got willed! “
“You fool, you do not ask, but do it! You go really getting on my nerves! “

We rode back and did not say a word. Sometime beat Tom his horse soles in the flanks and galloped away. My Little Pony could not keep up with the pace of his great Kaltblüters.

“Go ahead but off!” I cursed.

The heat was stifling. I sat for a while in the shade of an apple tree. All around just fields and meadows. A few hundred yards away stood a hut. Your roof tilted to one side and had holes. I believe that land on which they stood, belonged to Hans. The shutters were all closed, only the door was open a crack. I could well imagine that Tom is because hidden inside, watching me.

One of the stores opened and a blond curly mop of looking out the window. He looked familiar. It was the boy this morning, I had knocked. I hid behind the tree trunk until he had the shutters closed it behind him. Whether it is with a girl together? Perhaps the thin Trude’s with him? Heard that already started with twelve, the boys one to bubbles. When I wanted to ride on, I realized that my pony was cut down. traipse Toll, all the way on foot, I thought. But before I made a detour to the hut.

I quietly slipped through the door. Some light was coming in. Dust and tons of dirt were in the air. The boy was alone on a sofa, with open belt and half pulled down jeans. He slept, his hand resting on her stomach. The has jerked here! I held my hand in front of the mouth to keep from laughing, and was shocked when the fishing door squeaked. Tom poked his head through the slot. I ran up to him and pushed him out.

“What are you doing here?” He yelled.

“That’s even nix!”

“Have popped him what ?!”

“How dare you, me to stretch afterwards ?!”

“I was worried when your horse alone showed up with us.”

I lowered my head.

“Can ride with me. Come on, get in the back! “

I sat behind Tom on the horse’s back and wrapped my arms around his waist. He smelled of hay. I closed my eyes and saw this boy in front of me, half-naked and lying on the sofa. Whether he groped there often? He Could I probably watch again?

My fingers played with Tom’s shirt buttons.

The blond angel would need to lie only on the sofa, the rest I was doing.
I would open his pants, they go down to the knees, his hard cock would spring forth. And now touch it up now! I said. Just like you always do it when you’re alone.

My hands wandered down to Toms zipper, felt the big bump.

I would put my hand to yours, with you masturbate and track your every move.

Tom groaned, my hand squeezed.

He brought the horse to a halt and pulled me out of the saddle. He kissed me, kneading my sore ass sitting, my breasts strained and pulled me to the meadow.

This time he did not ask, may I?