On the way home, thinking to pick up something for dinner, Jamie stopped at a farm stand, one she’d not visited before. The selection of fruits and vegetables seemed to be excellent: ears of corn and well-shaped potatoes, apples, pears, peaches, and tomatoes. From a basket Jamie selected a handsome peach.

Just as her fingertip tickled the tiny stem, a nearby fellow she’d barely noticed said, “Fingering the fruit, I see.”

The guy stood straight and stiff in his hefty overalls, a substantial, five-pronged pitchfork in one hand and what looked to be an equally substantial one-pronged prick bulging beneath those overalls. He raised his eyebrows. Could it be his lips formed a smirk?

“Are you impugning my fruit feeling abilities?” Jamie inquired, at the same time slipping her fingers beneath the bodice of her dress and tugging the fabric down. Her thumb and forefinger found the plump bud and gently pinched. The stimulation sent a pleasant shock straight to her clit. She drew in a breath as if to suck an erect nipple and shuddered with the sudden spurt of pleasure.