Julie knew the nasty boy sitting several rows below her on the steeply angled football stands was looking directly up at her legs with the impassioned look of a totally obsessed stalker. One of the reasons why she liked to sit in the top row of the metal stands was because that private feminine expanse of “beneath the skirt territory” was displayed “innocently” to interested male parties sitting immediately below her almost close enough to reach out and touch her forbidden zone with their “boy in a candy store” greedy fingers.

She remembered this wide-eyed boy from the party at her sorority house that first weekend at the academically respected coeducational academy of higher learning for students seriously interested in the field of animal husbandry. It seemed so funny how some folks would talk about the simple act of farming in such high-faluting terms like it was some sort of scientific endeavor.

Julie was just a plain and simple farmer’s daughter and she was there to learn some of the new modern techniques that might help make her family’s farm a bit more profitable without losing the connection to the basic need for well-grounded old fashioned hard work that helped make any farm a success.

She had always liked living on a farm because she got to see at a very early age the way the domesticated animals procreated with gusto and very little consideration for their partner’s comfort or approval. In a way, it was almost like an instinct that pushed their internal pleasure buttons and she wondered if she would react the same way when some boy would get her into the proper position at some dreamy and hopefully not too distant point in time. The thought of taking it from behind had haunted her nocturnal twisting and turning for some time now and she knew it was only a matter of time before she simply had to “have it” or die from boredom and lack of sleep.

Julie remembered the boy’s silly name was Danny and she wondered if he might be interested in using his pretty mouth to make her feel real good before he gave it to her in a way that meant she had to keep her mouth shut and just follow orders. She didn’t mind taking it that way because romance was never one of her “things”. She was more concerned with basics like size and stiffness of her partner’s business instead of sweet nothings whispered in her ear to make her spread her knees a bit wider for easy entry.

In all honesty, she had to admit that she was not all that interested in the outcome of the game being played on the field below. Her primary concern was that she had at least one interested boy watching her play her own little game of allowing peeks at her partially exposed but somewhat inexperienced snatch. She was wearing her thong style bikini bottom with the delicate lace on the edges to make her pussy look all soft and inviting to perverted male eyes.

As she slyly scanned the rows below her, she saw that in addition to the fully erect Danny, watching her puffy panty-line with resolute intensity; the newly arrived professor of farming ethics, Doctor Hardcastle was staring with obvious pleasure at the presentation of her barely covered feminine folds carefully concealing his interest in student affairs from his bored spouse seated beside him with a supposed soft drink in her hand that was really a gin and tonic in an oversized container. The wife was not that unattractive in Julie’s opinion and still had a certain glow of youthful appeal that drew horny football players to her like bees to blossoms. Heaven only knew why the Doctor had lost his interest in pounding her heart-shaped bottom in nocturnal bliss. Her constant barrage of derision and accusatory sarcasm had insulated him from any thought of conjugal interaction with a person he now considered “the enemy”.

Professor Hardcastle had a reputation of giving out inflated grades to the female students in his class whenever they rewarded him with their personal favors without hesitation and constant verbal stroking of his ego with squeals of pretended delight. She looked down on his early balding head and his macho moustache that promised a tickle in the right place at the right time during nocturnal exercises. His suit jacket hid his groin from her view but she speculated that he was sporting a raging hard-on from the way he was ogling her slit with great delight.

That very thought forced her to squirm this way and that on the hard metal bench and her cheeks spread open in anticipation of probable stretching soon to come. Fortunately, his silly spouse was locked into watching the young men bent over in a huddle with their nicely toned buttocks framed like powerful drills of manly pride working their depraved way into her secret places. She had never had more than one male at a time despite her penchant for experimenting with multiple cocks working her nubile body in unison. Her husband had no idea of her deviant desire to be done by a pair or even a trio of young men at the same time in a way that left her no feminine dignity at all, but that was primarily because they certainly didn’t discuss such matters over a cup of tea.

Agnes Hardcastle did her best to hide her lust-ridden face from her husband knowing he would read her sinfulness with utter accuracy and would make her lie face down on the bed to receive her well-deserved punishment for depraved thoughts. He did not service her the way she had gotten accustomed to in recent years, but his “corrections” never slacked off no matter how circumspect her spousal behavior.

When Julie looked at Danny again, it seemed like he was almost bouncing in his seat in excitement over a long pass that brought his team close to the opponent’s goalposts. Actually, he was in the process of “rubbing out” a wet dream of navigating up Julie’s tight vaginal channel whilst looking deep into her ever-so-close soft hazel eyes brimming with tears of joy.