Red Clover by Salacious © 2009

“Where are we going, Farmer?”

“Trust me.”

“Why do I have to be blindfolded?”

“I told you; it’s a surprise.”

The tractor putted along and the sun fell warm on her face, arms, and legs. The wind blew her dress. She had to be content with trusting him. Soon, he stopped the tractor. Farmer hopped down and grabbed her waist, lifting her to the ground beside him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

“Happy anniversary, Clover.” He kissed her neck and slid the blindfold from her eyes. Knowing the sun would be blinding, she held them closed for a moment. When she opened them all she could see was a vast field of red clover surrounded by old cedar trees.

“It’s lovely.”

“Oh, this isn’t your only present, my sweet.”

“It isn’t?”

“Heck no. There’s more. Wanna see?”

“Absolutely!”

He took Clover by the hand and led her through the field of red clover and fluttering butterflies. Soon, they approached a patch of lush white clover thick with blooms. There was a basket waiting with a bottle of rhubarb wine moist with condensation.

“I thought we’d have some wine.”

“But it’s the middle of the day.”

“It’s our anniversary, my love. We need to celebrate.”

Clover sat in the softness of the white blooms, took the glass of wine, and toasted their abundant love. Their glasses clinked. They drank. He shifted closer. Nuzzled her neck. Kissed her rhubarb-wine sweet lips.

“You know I’ve been thinking about this day all spring. How I wanted to surprise you.”

“Have you now?”

“There’s more, you know.”

“More?”

“Yes, we’re going to make love on this bed of clover.”

“But it’s the middle of the day.”

“I don’t love you any less in the middle of the day, Clover.”

“I know… but…”

He kissed her again and began to lift her dress up. He pushed her back into the plushness of the clover. His hand smoothed up her leg, over her knee, curled and continued up the soft warm flesh of her inner thigh. Her breathing grew heavier and her kisses deeper.

“Wait.”

Clover unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them and his boxers down. She stroked his manhood and kissed him. She slid down his legs and licked the glistening precum from his engorged cock. He smiled at her.

“I love you baby.”

“Was this part of your surprise?”

“Mmhmm.”

She needed no further encouragement. Clover raised her dress and straddled his ready cock. With slow, time-learned precision he slid into her. He lifted her dress over her head, letting the soft breeze take it away. He held her firm and thrust into her. Her eyes fixed on his; the butterflies tickled inside her belly. He laid a walloping smack on her round rump. Clover cried out.

“Yea baby, I love you so much.”

“Ooo, I love you too.”

Another firm succession of wallops landed on Clover’s behind as she rode her loving man. The breeze carried her cries to parts unknown, their passion growing more intense, as was the stinging heat she felt blossoming across her bottom.

He kneaded Clover’s breasts; watched as she bounced above him, taking pleasure in their shared enjoyment. She clung to his shoulders, making love to him with abandon.

“You feel so good, baby.”

“Mmhmm…Ooo…”

“That’s it, baby, we’re almost there.”

“Ooo… ow…”

“Doggone, you make me feel so good, Clover.”

“Damnit, Farmer, not so hard!”

With one final thrust Farmer filled Clover with his seed – she collapsed against his chest, breathless. Clover cried.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why the tears?”

“It's never stung like this before.”

“You're incredible. I love you so much.”

“It was great…but… but … it hurt, Farmer. It’s never stung like this before.”

He held her tight. Watched as the honeybees flitted away.

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