Chapter 12

Dad was home an hour later. Supper would be done in an hour. Dad inspected what the young men had done and was pleased.

“I ordered the list of feed ingredients that we needed to make chicken and hog feed. I didn’t know alfalfa meal and soy bean meal was so expensive,” Dad said.

“We could have used ground soybeans from the bin as an alternative, but the reports said that for piglets it substantially increases the risk of dysentery and increased the mortality rates. Soybean meal has had the soybean oil which causes that removed and the meal retains the protein.” I said.

“We can adjust the protein levels in the feed by changing the amount of soybean and alfalfa meal and corn to meet the levels as the hogs grow. I have several charts,” I said.

“The feeders for the pigs will be delivered in a day or two. I also ordered a round hog feeder for when they get older. We need to play with the mix mill and bag some feed ahead. I agreed to buy twenty piglets from Sanders hog farm for us to pick up in a week,” Dad said.

“The chicks you wanted for the hen house will be here in the same time frame from the farm store. On a different note, the lumber company came up with a plan for Amos’ house that they liked. The process starts tomorrow with a materials order and sub contractors. A lot of the addition will be prefab. Once the foundation and floor are done it will go together fast,” Dad said.

“Your partners in crime will be staying here nights only for about three weeks and the girls have to spend days over there to help Grandma keep the house clean from the construction dust,” Dad said.

“I understand - there can be no room for doubts or disagreements,” I said.

“When do we start cutting?” I asked.

“Day after tomorrow. We are going to cut Amos’ wheat first. On Sunday when the mill is closed, we will unload into his grain bin.”

I made four trips to the mill on the first day of cutting in the Pete and two in the six wheeler. The big IH combine with the forty foot head was filling the trucks as fast as I could make the cycle.

Dad quit cutting at noon to allow me to get all the trucks empty again and to help James get oriented on planting beans. It wasn’t as simple as just driving the tractor.

To plant the Jackson’s three hundred acres was going to take four hundred units of seed beans that had been ordered months ago to guarantee delivery. A unit was fifty pounds and cost eighty dollars a unit. The beans were delivered on pallets in paper bags.

Those paper bags had to be opened and emptied into a seed delivery wagon. The planter parked at the wagon when empty and augers filled the hoppers on the planter.

The planter had a monitor that flashed each time a seed dropped into the furrow the planter opened for it. The beans were planted in rows twelve inches apart. The planter was forty feet wide.

After Dad was satisfied that James understood the planting and when he needed to replenish the seeds in the hoppers, he went back to cutting.

As I was coming from the field, Mr. Jackson was standing beside the lane with Elsie. I stopped the Pete and got out.

“Hi Mr. Jackson, How are you feeling today? It’s good to see you out and around,” I said as I gave him a hug.

“I’m having a good day; I feel pretty good,” he said.

“Would you like to ride with me to the mill and back on this trip?” I said.

“You might have to help me get into the truck,” he answered.

“I can do that - Elsie can help too,” I said.

A few minutes later I was going through the gears with Elsie sitting on the box seat. Mr. Jackson was adjusting the air seat for a comfortable ride.

It was a good trip with little waiting to get on the scales and unloaded. The scale crew was pleased to see Mr. Jackson and teased him for having the best looking truck driver in the county. An hour later Dad was loading more grain into the truck. I was going to be busy the rest of the afternoon.

It was dark when Dad shut the combine down for the day as the mill was closed. The two six wheeler loads were dumped into the Jackson grain bins so Dad would have empty trucks to fill tomorrow morning while I made the first run to the mill.

I was glad to be finished for the day; after a while even the air ride seat seems to get rough. I enjoyed making a late supper while James and Dad both showered to get the wheat chaff off of them.

While the men were watching the news and the farm report, I finished washing dishes and then showered. Dad had subscribed to the satellite farm channel package of about ten channels. It gave the markets for agriculture products and weather predictions for harvesting.

When I stepped out of the shower I realized I was super horny. I put on the thin lacy two piece pajamas that hid nothing and went to the living room. Dad was on one end of the couch and James on the other.

I squeezed his legs together and spread mine to straddle his, burying my knees into the back of the couch. I kissed the sides of his neck then his lips. They opened to receive the tip of my tongue with little effort. We French kissed for several minutes.

I felt his cock - trapped by his pajamas - growing against my pussy. I made little movements of my hips to encourage it to grow.

“Would you like some help in taking the pajamas off,” I whispered into his ear.

His response was to squeeze my ass. I moved to my knees to the edge of the couch and pulled the pajamas down his hips and off his legs. I slid my panties off my feet as I moved back into position. I stopped at his cock to lick the pre-cum off and give a good wet suck.

I didn’t stop at one suck; I went back for more, going deeper each time. After the third or fourth time past my gag reflex, he put his hands on my head. He waited until I had taken a breath and on the next down stroke pushed my head onto his cock with force.

I felt the plum slowly forcing its way down my throat, slowly stretching it. It kept going and going. Finally my nose was against his body and I still felt the plum still going deeper. I tried to swallow and couldn’t. I tried to work my throat muscles and couldn’t. I tried to work my tongue against his cock and did a little. I touched my throat and it was full. I felt his cock from the base of my jaw until it disappeared behind the bones and muscle of my larynx.

I needed to breathe but he was still holding my head. I tapped his thigh and he released my head. I slowly lifted my head off his cock until I could breathe through my nose and took several slow deep breaths and swallowed several times. I pulled him forward some so I would have a better angle.

And then I placed his hands back on my head and started down. He finished the stroke while applying pressure. My nose was against him, I tried harder at using my throat muscles and managed to swallow working them against his cock. I found with effort I could move my tongue. I slapped his thigh again and lifted to breathe.

I had to swallow a lot of slippery throat lube I remembered that from the magazine. When I read it I thought it was BS but it was not. I was more comfortable and tried to go down without his hands helping but I found I needed them a little. I stroked a couple times trying. I gave up and lifted to breathe and only needed to touch dad’s hands. He knew what I wanted.

We repeated the process again and again, stretching my throat, jaw, and larynx off so I could breathe and then go deep. Dad’s hips started moving with my throat action - it was rocking the hips, shoving a little more cock towards my stomach. I found I could force my tongue past my lower teeth and lick his balls as the muscles in my jaws relaxed and stretched.

We changed tempo as my throat relaxed. I was almost all the way off and then all the way balls deep and a little faster. Dad grunted and held my head tight. And then I felt his cock swell and pulses of his cum as it passed my tongue and was deposited in my stomach.