The Temptation of an Old Man

How perilous these sultry afternoons to my complacency! Here, now, my husband, so dirty from work in the fields, chatting about this and that, as sweat drips down my side, moistens my forehead and the top of my lip, my chin, my neck, lightly seeping into the dress I pleasured myself in this morning, my legs folded, pressed together, on the sofa, toes pointed to reveal the muscles of my powerful legs, I am proud of these legs as only my mind is more powerful, and after that my cunt most rapacious, I turn to show my chattering old man my back, naked, muscles shaped close to the bones adorned by the low cut of this dress, such slenderness, for I do possess the body of a child, a young boy perhaps, especially I keep my hair very short to complement this sinewy body, and yes, he takes notice when I look up at him and offer a big smile, despite his loathe of smiles, because all men, I have learned, are weak at the sight of such magical mouths of females, and so I get up and kneel before my old man and hold his phallus sweaty thighs into my mouth, but this is only in my slutty mind as he chatters on, perhaps on the sofa on my knees and hands, my rear up in the air, begging to be fucked from behind, might that distract him, or perhaps just sit here and spread my legs, have the hem of my dress barely over my cunt which peeks shyly behind pubic hairs I have carefully trimmed so he can see when my cunt drips with nectar, so tonight, my old man must learn to suck me, to pleasure me with his mouth, I must teach him such an art of the tongue, the lips, for I know when I suck him I learned to pleasure him, I learned all the movements and sensations of my mouth, but men, they are such dim selfish creatures, certainly slow in reciprocating pleasure, when their oral orifices could do so much, abundantly wet, perfectly slippery, and the tongue a powerful muscle of numerous motions of pleasure heightened controlled by nips with the lips, touches by the teeth and sucking forces of endless variations, then the gift of the female nectar, surely my most precious nectar gushes when I am made to levitate in ecstasy, it is copious wine sweetly scented and a mild saltiness that is surprisingly invigorating, oh this poor old man has much to learn! I get up to coffee and wonder how to begin tonight, and with the fingers of the right hand teasily caress the tip of his phallus, it is attentive and I remind him not to exhaust himself in the fields, take it easy, so we can have fun tonight, as he says, book early for Christmas.