Dirt and Desire
by Eric Ross
Copyright© 2025 by Eric Ross
Erotica Sex Story: Under the coop’s rain-soaked tin, Tessa and Cade find each other—filthy, sweat-drenched, their lust as rough as the straw underfoot. In this raw tangle of grime and want, nothing matters but the fierce press of hips and the rasp of breath. Dirt and Desire strips away pretense, leaving only the fierce truth of flesh and grit.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Fiction Farming Workplace Rough Oral Sex .
The farm lay under the weight of dusk. Fields choked with weeds, the air thick with the promise of rain. The chicken coop slouched at the edge of the yard, wood and wire warped and rusted. Inside, the stink hit hard—ammonia, wet feathers, shit.
The straw crackled under Tessa’s boots. Hens clucked in the flickering glow of a lantern. A rooster let out a jagged crow, slicing through the noise. The coop was no refuge—cracks let in scraps of dying light, no real place to hide, just roosts and nesting boxes, dust and noise.
Tessa worked like she was part of the place. Wiry, late twenties, sweat-soaked and dust-streaked. Her tank top clung to her skin, hair pulled back in a messy knot. She cursed as a hen flapped past, feathers sticking to her damp arms. She belonged to this dirt, this heat.
Cade ducked through the doorway, boots thudding on the threshold. He was lean, sun-browned, grease on his shirt and hands. He came for a wrench he’d left behind, but his eyes caught on Tessa. She was sweat-slicked and stubborn, moving through the chaos like she owned it. That look in his eyes was hunger, and maybe respect.
“Came for my wrench,” he said, his voice low.
Tessa wiped her brow, dirt smearing her cheek. “Good luck finding it in this shithole,” she said, mouth twisting in a grin that dared him closer.
Before he could answer, the lantern died. Darkness swallowed them. Thunder rolled outside. Rain started to tap the roof, slow and heavy.
They stood close in the dark, the air thick with heat and ammonia. Hens shifted and clucked, the rooster crowing sharp as a blade. Cade shifted his weight, nose wrinkling at the smell.
“Smells like hell in here,” he said, but his grin stayed. Tessa laughed, tossing feed into the trough. “You’re the one who walked in, city boy. Can’t handle a little shit?”
He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “I can handle plenty.” The space forced them near, the crackle of rain and straw loud around them.
They moved through the coop’s tight space, boots crunching straw and droppings. Tessa brushed past him, her shoulder to his chest, rough and sure. Cade caught her wrist as she reached for a bucket, his thumb brushing the pulse there.
“Careful,” he said, his eyes on hers.
Tessa didn’t pull away. “Mess don’t scare me. You?” Her voice was low, breath warm against his cheek.
For a moment, the noise fell away—hens clucking, rain drumming on the tin. She was close, close enough he could smell the sweat on her skin, the heat of her body. Tessa’s fingers grazed his arm, nails catching the grease on his forearm. Cade didn’t flinch.
A hen squawked, darting past. Tessa cursed, boot slipping in the straw, droppings streaking her calf. Cade laughed, low and rough. “You’re filthy,” he said.
Tessa’s grin was sharp. “Takes one to know one.” She flicked a piece of straw at him. “Lighten up, mechanic.”
He lunged, grabbing her arm, shoving her back against the splintered wall. The wood bit her skin, but she pushed back, her hands at his chest. They moved, half-laughing, half-testing. Straw and dust filled the air. They stumbled into the corner, grain sacks rough at her back.
Cade braced a hand on the wall, the other gripping her hip. The darkness hid nothing—their heavy breathing, the sweat on her neck, the grease on his jaw. Tessa’s nails dug into his shoulders. She pulled him close.
“You gonna stand there or do something about it?” she asked.
His answer was a low growl. His hand slid up her side, smearing grease across her skin. He pressed closer, the hard line of his body pinning her there.
The coop’s air pressed down on them—wet feathers, shit, rain’s damp breath. The rooster crowed, sharp in the dark. Tessa hooked her leg around him, pulling him in. Cade’s hand shoved her tank top up, rough fingers finding her skin. She gasped, arching into him.
He kissed her, hard, tasting sweat and dust. Her mouth met his with a ferocity that matched. She tore at his shirt, buttons popping, nails scraping skin. His hand closed over her breast, not gentle, and she moaned against his mouth.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.