Chapter 25

The Jackson kids left after breakfast. Dad, James and I finished the last pick of cucumbers for pickles. The summer heat had gotten to the vines and killed the blossoms necessary to make cucumbers. They were dying; the sprinklers had put off the inevitable for a while.

There was enough for one more batch that I was going to do this morning. Today’s run would make one hundred quart and pint mason jars of the three variety of pickles. I was going to send some to the Jackson’s the next time Grandma came over.

Dad and James were going to take the Pete with a load of wheat to the mill and one of the six wheeler loads after that. We had forty thousand bushels of wheat to carry to the mill before corn harvest started the last of August. This afternoon they were going to look at used combines.

Dad and I had talked about a second combine a few nights ago. The dealer had several used ones in stock and they wanted them gone if they could sell them. With low hours and in good shape, they would fit the ticket. As a bonus, they were the same make and size as the one we had, so the attachments were interchangeable.

All farmers were the same as were most men; bigger, more power, faster. When one bought a new bigger combine, the dealer ended up selling two or three - it was the ‘Keep up with the Jones’ syndrome.

I was cleaning up and putting things away when Linda came in. I had heard her drive up. That import car she drove had a sound all its own.

“I have been to Seagraves again. They finally decided they might be able to use my engineering skills. They are working on a contract and I have been helping them with some of the designs. It sounds like they may be leaning to an offer. I don’t have any hopes that the pay will be something that I could afford to take, though,” Linda said.

Before she got past the living room she was naked.

“I hope you don’t mind if I shower. Deodorant seems to be causing me to itch for some reason. Have you got time to play? Then I want to talk,” Linda said.

“Yes, we have plenty of time to play. I will shower with you to get rid of the pickle smell. While we are at it, you can practice on the dildos again,” I said.

I stuck the 6, 7, 7.5 and 8 on the wall high enough that we could stand. After the shower Linda asked if I would go first while sucking and throating them. It was no problem for me, I guess she needed a little reassurance.

I gave her a tonsil searching scorching kiss and then I placed her hand on my throat to reassure her where each one would stop at. I took my time and slobbered plenty of saliva on the first one and licked the balls as nose hit the wall. I repeated the process on all four. Linda’s other hand stayed busy in her crotch.

When I stepped away from the last one she took my place. She placed my hand to her throat and started with the 6 inch one. She handled it nicely as she did the 7 inch one.

The 7.5 gave her trouble as it did the other day. She struggled, gagged, coughed and gagged some more, pulling off to swallow and clear her throat. I figured she was going to give up. But she didn’t.

She went back at the 7.5 even more determined. This time she was working harder on her breathing to help with the gag and cough. Her hand went to her pussy and she started playing with her clit. Her nose hit the wall the same time she had the first orgasm. Her knees weakened but she stayed at the dildo - working it, still stretching her throat - before pulling off.

“I did it. One to go,” Linda said.

She went to the 8 and started, first it was a third and then half and three quarters. She kept going. The hand in the crotch picked up speed. Linda reached for my hand and placed it back on her throat as she worked the dildo deeper.

Just as her nose hit the wall there was a pop in her throat where my fingers were. It startled me. I had never experienced anything like that and it worried me. But she only hesitated for a couple seconds before moving to the off stroke and again there was a pop.

Linda changed her rhythm, but was not pulling far enough off to breathe. She was stroking four or five off and on strokes before taking a quick breath; she was going to run herself out of oxygen if she kept it up.

Porn directors used this tactic on new actresses who were not seasoned enough to have their agent or representative on the set. They were deep throated over and over again without being allowed to get enough air.

When the actress tapped the thigh to tell the actor she needed to breathe, he stroked deep for several more strokes before pulling out. And then she got one breath instead of the three or four she needed before her throat was plugged again to repeat the scenario.

Over a few minutes she would start to lose awareness; the eyes would dilate and then begin to roll back under the eyelids, she would be groggy, unresponsive and often thought to be under heavy drugs.

It was in this state that unscrupulous directors would bring in the third and fourth actors for double and triple penetration scenes and rougher sex, all the time making sure she was oxygen starved by keeping big cocks in her throat. The term in porn world was ‘fucked dumb’.

There was a popping noise at end deep stroke when her nose hit the wall. Her hand working on her clit was a blur it was moving so fast.

“Oh God I’m cuming so hard!” Linda said in the few seconds she was off. A minute or so later she let out an agonizing scream on a breath stroke, “I’m cuming again!”

Linda was starting to turn blue when her knees gave way and she started to fall. Her legs were quivering like leaves in a windstorm. She fell away from the wall; luckily I was able catch her so she didn’t hurt herself. She still had the dildo balls deep in her mouth, it had pulled away from the wall.

I reached for it to pull it out, but she beat me to it. With it out she was wheezing like a race house. In between the breaths she tried to talk.

“So strong, just so strong. Why can’t my husband get me off like this? Why can’t I get off like this when I masturbate?” Linda asked.

“Help me shower and let’s go lay in the sun. I’m too exhausted to play any more right now. I need to talk,” Linda said.

“Sure, then we will also get you some ice chips,” I said. Her voice was raspy and harsh. I now knew what the pop was. It was the knob of the dildo passing her larynx. I hoped there was no permanent damage and wondered why only with her.

Out on the blanket and covered in suntan oil, Linda began talking.

“I’m having more erotic dreams, several every night. I must be masturbating heavily to them. At first I thought I was leaking pee but then I realized it was sticky and slippery. I am now sleeping on three towels to keep from messing up the bed,” Linda said.

“I dreaming of Bob’s cock after seeing it. I can’t believe how big it is, at least twice as big as his father. I am dreaming of sucking and fucking it and after seeing you doing anal with the dildos, I want to be ass fucked with it. I want a real cock to please me,” Linda said.

“I have dreamed of being ravished by more than one cock at a time, of being restrained where they could have their way with me. Another time I was forced to go man to man and please them and they pleased me. It was so wicked yet and so fun, so much pleasure in the dream,” Linda said.

“I dreamed they fucked me so much I couldn’t walk right for a day. I want it so bad. What’s happening to me?” Linda said.

“I think you are trying to do all the things you suppressed as a teen during your romance, expecting all those things to happen in the marriage and then ending up in a limited sex marriage. You are and have been sexually deprived - unsatisfied,” I said.

“You could be right. I was the good girl at school and then at college waiting for the right guy, expecting to live out my fantasy with him and I found the sex in the marriage was a disappointment. Now that I have found it - It’s like a book that I can’t put down; I want to finish it,” Linda said.

Then the bombshell was dropped, “I don’t want to go back to the city and Robert. I think he is seeing another woman. I received some texts that were questionable. I want more than I was getting at home or will ever get,” Linda said.

“Please don’t go bar hopping. Let me work on a couple things,” I said.

“I think you have led a sheltered life. Sex and sexual kink goes from A to Z these days; there are no given limits any more. The sexual revolution of the 60’s and 70’s has only grown. The only limits are the ones the individual sets,” I said.

“I know you are open to some kink, what are your limits?” I said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Linda responded.

“I’m pretty open minded myself, willing to try most anything once - especially if it is on my bucket list. One thing I am not doing is lying in the tub and let someone poop or pee on me - that one is a pretty firm limit. There are others as I am not into pain or bruises,” I said.

“OH! OK, I see - I’m with you on that one. I don’t have a bucket list, maybe I should think about doing that,” Linda said.

“You said you dreamed about Bob. Would you?” I asked.

“That’s incest,” Linda replied.

“It’s legal in this state as long as the parties are old enough to legally consent,” I said.

“Do you think he would, as old as I am. That’s a big difference in age,” Linda said.

“I will be honest with you. After he saw you naked by the pool he said you were ‘HOT, definitely a MILF,” I said.

“MILF?” Linda said.

“Mother I’d like to fuck,” I said.

“OH” Linda said.

“You still look good and they say all boys have fantasies about Mom. I will check him out, carefully tip-toeing around the issue discreetly. Remember, he was looking at you when the hard-on made its appearance,” I said.