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No one else has been around the place all day. It was hot out, but still nice. I finished loading the dirt and compost with the wheelbarrow. I eyed the bath house by the barn. I was stinky and sticky. I crawled through the window of the little building, held together by cedar posts and bailing wire, and turned on the tub. I splashed my face and drank some water. Yep. Feels good. Might as well go for the full bath.
I took off my stripy pants that look too goofy to wear to town, but fit well, and my boxers, which did not fit well and were tight against my stuff. Aah. What a relief to take them off. I enjoy the tight fit for a little while after I put them on until the polyester thread starts to annoy me, and eventually my clit gets sore against the tight seam. I had to rub it. I felt in between my lips: yep, a bath. I turned the water on full blast. There was no warm/cold options. The water temperature is the same as that inside the pipes, barely under the dirt. Today, it was slightly cooler than my hot working body and I can’t wait to get in. There was no wall next to the bathtub in the bathhouse, but a large oak tree that hangs over the shelter. I appreciated the beautiful moment stepping into the deep water. I lay still in the water, listening to my rings or toenails clinging underwater against the iron tub. Although its pedestal is of old railroad ties and rocks, I feel luxurious in the deep, warm water under the oak tree, blue sky and wispy clouds.
Just the poof of my pubic hair, my knees and my nipples poke out of the surface of water, and every now and then, a wasp hovers over the water. I remained still as the large, dark orange insect hung on the side of the tub. It’s body was beautiful and amazing in shape, alien-looking. I just lie still, holding my breath. The big red wasp took off from the edge of the tub and began its circle. It passed over my knees, to the other side of the tub. It rose, as if to fly outside, but then circled back around and touched down on my left nipple. I held my breath, keeping my chest absolutely still. I felt its little weight on its tiny, pricky feet. It stretched its abdomen down and put its wings back. Scared it was about to sting, I started to raise my hand to shoo it away, but it took off as quickly as I thought about it. It flew outside and I let out my breath. Yikes! That was exciting!
I gave my two tiny islands of nipple a few pinches for their good luck. The sun became just low enough to peer into the bath house and touch the water. That’s one of the things I love about being here. It’s ramshackle and rough, but more beautiful and relaxing as any marble-lined spa. The water was now the temperature of the air. I could feel little difference as I rolled around in it, feeling like I was floating. I soaked my head, and washed the dirt and pollen off my face. I put my legs up and relaxed. I floated with just my face above the surface, watching the little dust particles float above me. I looked at my long, thin legs and spread my knees. I reached down under the water and cleaned between my lips. I rubbed and squeezed myself down there, remembering how alone I was. I sled two fingers into my vagina, more slippery and warm than the water. I suddenly realized how horny I was. I pinched my nipples some more, feeling the evaporation of the water off of them. They hardened. I slid my fingers in and out and in and out. MMM. Wow! I am slippery! How’d I get so horny, just filling a couple of wheelbarrows full. I put my other hand under the water and rubbed my clit in circles as I pushed my fingers in and out. Oh my God, I’m going to cum in a second. I decided to get out and go masturbate somewhere right away. I had the evening to myself and I wanted to enjoy this for as long as possible.
I shampooed the manure and compost dust out of my hair and lathered up and exfoliated my whole body with my little blue scrubby. I pumiced my heals. Country girls pamper themselves, too. I got out and stepped on the rocks. I stood in the sun next to the tub and covered my body with lotion. Forehead and neck, chest and shoulders, tits, squeezing my tits, stomach and butt. I rub my butt cheeks. I rub my thighs, all around, my knees and my calves.
I get some more lotion for my feet and rub them. As I do so, I lean against the cedar pole that holds up the ceiling. I felt little pricky bug feet hold on to the side of my left wrist, and as I moved my hand, it stung. Wow! Searing hot! My blood started rushing through my body. Adrenalin pumped through my veins. I stuck my hand in the water to try to soothe it, which didn’t work. Ow, ow ow, I shook my hand, which also didn’t work. I just held it next to my chest, looking around for some kind of salve or vinegar or something in the bath house. Oh. In my pants. There’d be something in my pocket that could soothe it. I glanced at the pole leaning against the post and saw the little paper wasps’ nest attached underneath.
A little offended that the anything bahis firmaları would want to sting me, I grabbed the pole to move it out of the bath house. “No more wasps stinging poor naked women in this bath house,” I thought. Ow ow owch! Well of course, another sting! How stupid could I be to grab the pole, even gently! They weren’t going for the relocation program. They began their defense. This time on the pinky finger. Wow! What a rush! Ow. I stick my hand back in the water and didn’t scream. I got some tobacco from my pants pocket, mixed it with spit and applied it to the red hot stings. That actually did soothe it for a little while and the stings didn’t swell too much. I felt totally high and weird – either from the venom or the adrenaline rush. I try to make the best of the experience and even the pain. I even revel in it a little bit. I’m not sure, but it feels good, in some powerful medicinal way.
I walk under the oak tree and through the sunshine on the path behind the barn and enter my secret little space in the back of the barn. I stop along the path to pee. I am naked, so I just stand there in the sun, spread my legs and pee. A little bit of pee sprays slightly against my right thigh, as a little breeze passes right through the trees to me. I pick up a slightly green oak leave and wipe myself. I threw it away and stepped through the weeds and the branches to get to the barn.
The smell of hay dust and old barn boards, heated in the sun, describe the little room where probably some animals were once born. There was a baby boy born in this barn too, I heard. This room is small and private, mostly hidden from view, and painted pink. Pink to claim it for girls only. I put an old quilt on the wall and built a tall bed frame from old barn boards, which brings the mattress very close to the ceiling. It’s very cozy and feels like being in a little borough. It reminds me of the little tunnels and caves that we made in the giant stacks of hay, that reached two stories to the roof of my grandad’s barn. We even had pits that we could jump into from above, and our own hidden room above the stalls, where we hid special bones and arrowheads and things. We used sacks of feed for benches. I felt very comfortable and very much at home here. The barn is always where I go to avoid people.
Comfortable. Private. Alone.
I lie naked on the soft and cottony bumpy quilt. It smells like crispy dry leaves and afternoon heat from the open window next to the bed. The air’s getting a little crispy now, though. There’s a cool edge on the otherwise warm breeze that slowly passes through when it wants to. There’s some kind of change in the air pressure and electromagnetic charge when the evening sets in. That time is always exciting too, because you are under pressure to finish your day’s work before the dark comes. I’m inherently a night person, so my 24-hour cycle is just revving up. My nipples are firming. I feel the crispness of that breeze over me now. Open arms, parted legs, I lie there, unwind. I breathe. I feel my skin feeling the air.
One last swirl of warm air that’s been brewing in the space between the bath house and the barn all afternoon, comes in from the window behind my head and covers my body to my toes, as if to give me one last caress before dying. It goes forward, trying to make it through the narrow door opposite. The western sun was peering through the opening now, and I could see the horses heading back. I turn the other way to face the window. No thinking. Just awareness. Just breathing. Smells of dry grass and leaves itch my nose. Another warm draft brings the smell of the goats where they had been rubbing on the little elm trees. There’s some sunflowers in that space, too. I look at them enjoying the last of the western light.
My whole face itches and my eyes are swollen and sleepy. My hand is still hot. I rub my face, I scratch my head and my ears and try to just deal with the allergies instead of taking drugs. I’m still high from the stings, yet groggy from allergies working in the sun. My muscles are very relaxed from the bath, but I feel kind of strung out and out of my normal mind. I roll over to my back again and lay my wet hair out to dry by the window, and run my hands down my neck, to my breasts. I squeeze them thoroughly. I pinch my nipples some and squeeze my breasts some more. Breezes continue over my body.
I stretch out lengthwise, arms up, fingers pushing on the dusty window screen held in with duct tape. Toes point toward the setting sun. I stretch one leg up, as far as I can, and then the other. I put both legs up, toes touching the boards of the ceiling. I keep my feet in the air and spread my legs as far apart as my thighs allow and hold them there for a minute, stretching my muscles. I run my hands along my thighs and push them apart a little more and hold my legs up for another minute for strength and flexibility. Gotta stay in shape. I put my legs back down and hold each kaçak iddaa knee to stretch the backs of my thighs. Then I relax. My body feels good. I rub the muscles of my calves and thighs. I continue to run my hands over my body. I feel myself up and down and grab my crotch. I squeeze my tits with one hand and squeeze my pussy lips with my other hand. Yes, horny, so horny now.
I lick my fingers and touch my nipples with them to wet them enough to catch the breeze. I do it again a few times and just pinch them and squeeze my small ties. My nipples, usually inverted, poke out and harden. I pinch them to keep them out, their sensitive flesh tingles as the breeze touch them. I spread my legs wider on the bed and feel the cooling air. My long inner lips, which are moist now smack as they open. We breathe. I spread my legs out as far as I can now and stretch my thighs a little more. I rub my thighs and my lips. I pull on my long inner lips and push on my fleshy outer lips. My wrist and finger are still hot from the stings, but are just out of the way of being rubbed against anything, so it’s tolerable.
I stick my tongue into the air. I look up at the white milk-painted ceiling. A dreamcatcher with new cobwebs casts fluttering shadows on the pink wall. I breathe. I hear birds or bats or something fluttering from somewhere in the second story above, also feeling the excitement of the shift of time. The old building is home to so many creatures.
I pinch my nipples, squeeze my breasts with both hands and writhe on the bed. I stimulate, stimulate my nipples, then squeeze my pussy lips with both my hands. I squeeze and squeeze my lips together. They swell and I start rubbing them. Back and forth at first, then around and around. I can smell the hay in the barn, bales a few weeks old. Pollen. I feel defensive under its attacks and worn from fighting it. I feel groggy and slightly out of sinc with other people, but late summer is still my favorite time of year, even with hay fever. My body feels good. Even in this weird state of grogginess, under the effects of venom, I still feel right and alive – especially alive. I hear wings flapping around outside and leaves blowing, clicking against the walls. I hear goats and horses. Their smells already pervades the barn. I can smell myself now. Not sure, I touch my fingers to my nose and smell my pussy juice and taste it. I suck on my fingers in my mouth.
I spread my legs open again, as wide as I could get them. My swelling lips, ultra-sensitive, just craved being touched now. Open and craving. My hands squeeze and my fingers slide in and out, up then down my body quickly before diving back down into my open, slippery hole. Two of my fingers go deep into my getting slipperyer self. My other fingers began to circle and circle my little clitoris. Only my naked body and the air exist now. I feel like I’m making love to the air, tongue out, eyes closed, head back. I imagine myself as a wild (or domesticated) animal under the oak tree, rolling in the leaves.
I think of myself in my body. The mattress is hard. It’s futon mattress on a box springs. Here I am. No boyfriend, no girlfriend, no wanna-bes or trying-to-bes. No fantasies this time, even. Usually I think about how I’m going to fuck the next person I’m going to fuck. Here now time space, thinking about my own body and no one else’s. Me inside me. All of my senses are heightened. I am naked in front of the window, venom still in my bloodstream, I’m just so turned on.
My fingers circle and circle my inside. They find the spongy part in the front of my vagina. I circle the other way, around the rim of my lips and I make circles with my other fingers around and around my little clitty. I stuck my tongue into the air again and just revel in raw horniness. I allow myself to feel in it. I breathe wildly and deeply. Open, open. Finger fucking and oblivious to everything else, I fuck and fuck.
About to cum in just a second, I backed off a little, slid my wet fingers up my belly and cover myself and my nipples in my own juice. I taste it some more. My wet nipples catch the air again and I pinch them a little more to keep them erect. They have to be stimulated to get me to cum. I squeeze my nipples and titties with one hand while the other slides back down, squeezes my lips and begins frantically rubbing my clit. I wanted to satisfy my horny body, my craving lips. I let out a little moan.
I rub circles around my clit until I start to reach that tingly plateau and then back off again. I slide my fingers down between my lips and just feel the wetness. Mmm. My wrist and pinky of my hand are a little hot and swollen, and I can’t bend them much, but I sure can use my other fingers. I put three of them in and use my thumb as leverage. I rub my clit. My left hand does all the dirty work. Hot and swollen is the order of the moment. I take them out and lick them and rub my nipples and faces with them, my pussy all over my body. I taste it. kaçak bahis My pussy dominates.
Mmm, breathe. I slip one and two and then three fingers back in and keep circling my clit with my other fingers in bigger and bigger concentric rings…and then smaller and smaller ones. Cuntcentric circles. My three fingers starting rubbing the front of my vagina again. Back and forth, in and out and then circling. The rotation of circles from one hand invariably meets the rotation of the other and cause my fingers to pinch my clit. My clit was squeezed against the sponge of my vagina, and that squeezes against my pelvic bones, my iliac process. That’s iliac process. I rotate my iliac process to accentuate the movements.
I writhe on the bed, my own body, alone in its pleasure. Just me. I circle my left fingers and I circle my right fingers, and I circle and I’m reaching that plateau again. I stop circling the rim of my vagina and just start pushing in and out. I keep circling my fingers on my swelling, excited clit. In and out, around and around, here I cum!
Uhhhhhhh! I cum! I cum for myself, not fantasizing only of myself. My wet pussy and hard nipples. My ohhhhhhh! I cum for a second more getting off on my body. The room lit up in pink. I experienced just waves of pink. The setting sun, passing through the thick atmosphere, at just the right level, radiated the pinkness. The pink walls diffused it and reflected it back. The room literally was pink. The air was pink. I was totally, through my pores even, immersed in pink. My very light skin even radiated pink. The sunset had me in it for a moment.
My vagina squeezes my fingers in waves – soft contractions. I was writhing in wave after wave of cum and slid into the surf and was carried away. I quivered and I curled up into a ball and just felt my fingers being squeezed. I pulled out my fingers and just squeezed my pussy lips together again, just holding it. I hadn’t really come down from that orgasm yet, so I took advantage of the wave and crawled back on to ride it again. I circled my fingers around my throbbing clit some more and in rhythm to my other fingers. I was rushed away again. Uhhhhhhh! I squeezed and kept it going as long as I could. My heart was beating so hard and fast in my chest. I put my head back and glimpsed the setting light shining through the stones in the dream catcher above. I looked all around, as I rolled my head back and forth, writhing and moaning. For a long time, I came down, still writhing, and still feeling the laps of the waves through my body, in pink molecular motion.
My old housemate and lover told me once that, if she was going to masturbate, then she might as well make the most of it, and always went for three orgasms. That sounded like an excellent strategy. My left fingers rubbed my pussy lips, I quickly vibrated my right fingers around my clit in the last chance way I could get a third orgasm out of myself. I have to be more direct and more aggressive for the third one and not let up until I cum. This one’s gonna be clitoral. My fingers moved around and around so fast on my clit. I held my cunt in my other hand and open and closed my thighs furiously. I have to move my legs back and forth too, for it too work. These are little tricks that only I know, the secret little tweaks to the craft, like the engineers can do to the Enterprise in extreme circumstances. Round and around, here it cums! Here it cums, hhhhuuuu! I felt it rising and rising until I just get there and a dive into the surf this time and oh I can cum! I sit up a little and kind of convulse. This one is strong and hard. I moan loudly, well, kinda roar. I held my crotch with both hands. I curl up and close my eyes and relax, feeling my heart jumping around my chest and the fresh air touching my body. I hurl forward and put my forehead on the mattress. Blood rushes to my ears.
The breeze feels chilly on my skin now. The spicy, musky smell of cum, my own familiar cum wafts through the cool breeze and mingles with the other animal scents. I unroll my body. I lick my fingers, smile, and stretch out like a cat, a long and sinewy cat, a smug cat. With my new cat ears, I think I can hear the sound of crickets now. I’m not sure how long they’ve been singing to each other. Before, all I could hear was the sound of my own quick breathing. Now the pitch of the cricket song vibrated the air of the dimming room, as if attached to some electronic device. The room seemed to be plugged in.
I pulled down the quilt and slipped between the sheets that stay cool all day in the shady barn. My skin was sticky. The sheets were smooth and inviting. The light dimmed and he now cool breezes found their way indoors. So relaxed. I decided to spend the rest of the night there. The moon had already been out, so it never got purely dark, except in the corners of the interior, where I could here little critters stirring and scratching around. Then I heard a pouncing sound and chasing sound. I listened to the little drama and the occasional whippoorwill from high in the oak tree.
Obviously, I’m not alone at all out here. My body soon fell asleep as the moon shone and the crickets sang and life continued on.
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