Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24648 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24648 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Well, almost perfect. The only problem is that I haven’t been able to get any sort of sexual release since arriving in Parson, which is getting harder for me to deal with as the days go by. Of course, I touch myself under the covers at night, but as a very sexual woman, I need a man to make me happy. Touching myself just isn’t enough, and it’s making me more and more antsy.
That’s one thing I miss about my old life because when I was working at Club Z, finding release was never a problem. I had plenty of handsome male clients to entertain, so I never had to worry about dealing with pent-up frustration, which was absolutely wonderful.
But here, it’s different because it’s not like the farm is just crawling with men waiting to have their way with me. In fact, Frank doesn’t even invite his workers to the house, so I only see them from a distance. Plus, I’m not even sure that Uncle Frank likes me, seeing that he can be gruff and downright grumpy sometimes. He’s not a man of many words, and ever since the shopping trip at Angelique’s, he’s been especially standoffish. The man literally won’t talk about anything that’s not farm-related, and as a result, our conversations, while interesting, never depart from his comfort zone.
I sigh while strolling, idly trailing my fingers along the tall stalks of corn. Maybe Frank is just shy and it takes him a long time to really open up. Or maybe he just isn’t interested in getting to know me better because I’m not that interesting to begin with. Or worst of all, maybe he’s just counting down the days until I leave his house.
At this point, I can’t help but wonder how my mom even managed to get him to agree to let me stay in the first place because he’s so solitary. This isn’t exactly a guy who’s partying with friends, or entertaining guests on a regular basis. He’s never brought a woman to the house, either, thank goodness, nor has he gone out on any dates despite being a handsome man. Yet sometimes, Frank will sit in the chair in the living room with a book in hand while I curl up on the couch with a novel, and I can feel his eyes on me the entire time. I can feel that warm gaze caressing my curves, running over my breasts and sensuously trailing the S-shape of my waist and hips. I can feel how his gaze lingers on the shadow between my tits, and how when I get up for water, he hungrily eyes my ass.
Even crazier, I’ve bumped into him in the hall after stepping out from a steamy shower, and the air grows so thick with tension that it’s hard for me to breathe. I can tell by the way his whole body goes completely rigid that he’s incredibly aroused. His eyes skitter quickly over my skin before he turns away, but the flare in that blue gaze is unmistakable, as is the sheer hardness of his body. This man wants me, and I’ve been tempted to drop the towel on occasion, just to stoke the fire.
But he’s not going to act on his desires because I’ve given him a million chances already. I’ve bent over in front of him, showing off my big, heart-shaped ass. I’ve brushed up against him as we pass each other in the hall, my generous breasts grazing his arm or even his chest on occasion. I’ve even told him about what I did at Club Z, but nothing works. He’s my step-uncle, and this is a man with an iron will. He’s never going to do anything about the sexual tension between us.
Which is bad news because I don’t think I can go much longer without some sort of release. Oh god, what do I do? Head back to the city? Find the equivalent of Club Z in Parson, Missouri? I let out a snort. That’s impossible and I doubt even the nearest big city has something comparable.
I sigh, shaking my head while stopping to rest in the shade of a particular tall stalk of corn. It bobs up and down a few times in the wind before stilling again, and suddenly, inspiration strikes. Hmmm. I break an ear of corn off, and gently strip off the leaves. The kernel buds are bright yellow and stiff to the touch, and the ear is about ten inches in length and pleasantly bulb-shaped. Should I? Would I? It’s dirty, but it’s possible because I’m all alone and there’s no one around for acres. It’s a gorgeous day and basically, I’ve just found Nature’s substitute for a very satisfying dildo.
Perfect.
This may be a little ridiculous, but I’m too embarrassed to order sex toys on Amazon in front of Frank, and I have no idea how I’d even get them delivered to the farm. As a result, quickly, I strip off my T-shirt and shorts, growing increasingly needy as I do. My bra and panties are next, and then I lie down on the ground in the shade of the corn stalks and spread my legs.