Futile Farming

[Seasick]

Futile Farming
By Seasick

“Son of a Bitch,â€￾ Scott Steele yelled out as the sound of a wrench first bouncing off of steel, and then clattering to the concrete floor, echoed throughout the farm shop. For a second there was silence, and then somewhere in a distant pasture a coyote howled, setting of a cascade of other coyote howls that resonated throughout the midnight silence of the Steele Farm. Scott took a deep breath, and then scooted his creeper underneath the silage chopper a bit more to retrieve the wrench. Upon grabbing it though, and pushing himself back, he was surprised to look up to see his wife looming above him.

Amy had dressed as a seductive farm wife, and as Scott pushed back from underneath the chopper, he was greeted by a pair of long legs encased in beige nylons and teetering in three inch black high heels. With his face only inches away, he slowly followed the legs upwards, past her knees and thighs, past her denim miniskirt, over her black halter top and stared at her big blue eyes looking down at him with a smile.

“You do know it’s past midnight don’t you,â€￾ she said holding a beer for him as she said it?

“Yes I am well aware of that, but tomorrow is supposed to be dry and I got forty acres of grass down in the Cates filed and I need to get this silage chopper up and running if I am going to get it done before the rain,â€￾ he said as he took the jack shaft that lead from the chopping head over to the gearbox and tossed it up on the work bench. “I think I can get this cross rebuilt if I can get it apart and do a bit of welding on it, but…â€￾

“But you are working yourself right to death,â€￾ Amy said as her husband sat down on the stool and began to remove the snap rings that held the cross in place.

“We both knew this was what it was going to take to make this farm viable Hon. I’ll have plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead.â€￾

Amy did not reply. The work bench sat between two bays used for working on equipment, and while Scott sat on one side, she sat on another. Unbeknownst to him however, she had reached down and slipped off her black high heel on her right foot by placing it heel to toe with her left, and then brought her foot between his legs and pressed it seductively into his crotch.

“You know that makes it kind of hard to keep the pliers on the snap ring when you do that?â€￾

“Then don’t be using the pliers, just enjoy what I am giving you.â€￾

Amy had been married to Scott for three years and knew just what he liked and she had dressed entirely for his liking. A farm was hardly a place for nylons, but tonight for her husband, she gladly wore them. Granted they were a lighter shade that gave her legs a softer look, but not so dark that he could not see the toe ring she had put on each middle toe, and of course a silver ankle bracelet that glinted off her right foot. Now as she lovingly shoved her left foot into his lap, she wiggled her toes and tried to find his manhood that was slowly beginning to get bigger.

“Amy,â€￾ was all he could say, though Amy had no idea whether it was a communication that was supposed to stop her, or spurn her on.

“Unbutton your pants.â€￾

“Right here?â€￾

“Who is going to see us, besides this is our place now. Our farm, if we want to play footsie out in the equipment shop, we will.â€￾

Scott was not about to argue with her. They had worked tirelessly to get the funding to afford the farm, and now they were working hard to make it profitable. Break downs had been worse then anticipated and it seemed they never spent much time together. Their bed was a place to merely collapse for awhile and not really a place to have any sort of meaningful marital relations. Now he unbuttoned his jeans for her and pulled them down to his knees letting her have full access to genitals. As he did so, he could not help but reach out and grab her beautiful feet as they began to slide over his hardened shaft.

“I know high heels don’t really belong on the farm, but I know you like me wearing them for you.â€￾

“That’s fine,â€￾ he said in a half-whisper as he peered down at his wife’s almost perfect feet. Only size six, they were petite and cute, with every toe nestled tightly against the other and with arches that were deep and perfectly situated for wearing high heels. Better still was her penchant for going barefoot a lot. It mattered little if it was in the house, in the car, or around the farm, her shoes were always off. Of course going barefoot was one thing, going shoeless while wearing nylons was another, and farm life never leant itself to wearing stockings. That is why this night meant a lot to Scott. Encased in beige stockings, Scott thrilled at the feeling of her scratchy stockings sliding along his hardened shaft, and kneading his hairy balls.

“Do you like that Hon,â€￾ she said as she let his big hands riddled with calluses and scars guide her soft feet towards his most erogenous of zones? When Scott only mumbled, Amy decided to up the thrill by a bit more. Gripping her black halter top, she pulled the garment over her head and let her husband’s gaze fall over her bare chest. If she could have done her own farmwife errands topless, the sun would have given her an all over tan that would have been more seductive then her rather pale chest. Still Scott was not disappointed. Amy did not have super huge breasts, but it mattered little to him, size C’s were big enough, and what she lacked for a chest, she made up for with perfect feet.

Now she built upon her perfect feet by using the perfect technique. Using the tip of her big toe, she touched the sweet spot between his legs in an exploratory way. At first, he seemed soft and resistant; no doubt his mind on the broken plight of the tractor and the oncoming rain, rather then on Amy’s seduction methods. But as Amy flexed her toes and ran her foot along the underside of his shaft, she felt her husband’s familiar member swell and rise with definition. The hardness grew beneath her red painted toes, as she lightly rubbed the hardening curve of his cock.

Increasing the pressure, Amy splayed her toes and pulled them back, letting them fan out and move in five directions as the feeling of the ball of her foot ran over his now pulsating shaft. Realizing quickly that his wife had more urgent needs than that of the broken down tractor, Scott released the tight grip around her ankle and began to run his hands over her nyloned feet. It was soft and enticing despite the unkempt, filthy and vile interior of the equipment shop in which they played.

Scott felt Amy’s desire and she could not help but thrill within her, her body riddled with goose bumps, as she shivered, but the result being from the soft touch of her husband and having little to do with the cool evening air of the very rural setting. She could only continue to lose herself as she felt his hardened shaft slide under the pressure of his foot, a drop of pre-come soaking into the material around the ball of her foot as she continued to rub and stroke him. The dexterity was amazing, her well toned leg muscles shifting and sliding, using her toes and arches to grip her husband with just as much skill as if it was her own hands.

Amy continued to lose herself in the moment, as she felt his cock swell and push against her nylon clad foot as she pushed back against it. Rolling the soft ball of her foot over the hardened, twitching shank, Amy slipped off her second shoe so that both feet could come into play. Alternating now between some toe nuzzling and gripping his cock between her arches, Amy slid her feet along his shaft in long slow pulls, every now and then letting the tip of his cock pop under her toes. When that happened, she would wiggle her toes and let him catch the full effect of her wily feet upon his cock.

In some respects Amy disliked the position they were now in. With the work bench stoutly built and heavily braced, little else could be done. Too much distance separated them for him to reach up under her skirt and toy with her aching clit. Even grasping her toes and sucking them to oblivion was out, though it was a thrill that Amy equally loved. A hundred times a minute she fought the urge to jump off her stool, climb onto the bench and have Scott bury his face in her sex. Or clamber on top of the bench and have him bury his shaft deep within her. While the desire was there, Amy had an ulterior motive and merely stayed at her post, sliding her nylon feet up and down his shaft waiting for him to erupt upon the tops of her feet.

Amy swooned with delight. Never in her life had she been so proud to please her husband. He had worked so hard to give her everything she had dreamed of, and now the very man she had wed, squirmed under the pleasure-pressure of her nylon clad toes.

Knowing he was close to ejaculation, Amy fanned the flames by splaying her toes just enough to flex the nylon in a provocative way. Placing them over the head of his cock, she had just enough time to capture the head of his penis between the ends of her toes and the ball of her foot. He tried to pry her feet off to a better position, but Amy held them firmly and then felt the powerful eruption as six blasts jettisoned into the cracks around her toes. Quickly she brought her other foot up and used the tops of her toes. In this way she contained the eruption and kept the mess to merely an ooze as his powerful blasts slowed and finally just dribbled out of his prick.

Amy watched with delight as a broad smile began to creep across her husband’s face. Even though she had not achieved any sexual fulfillment for herself, she had long understood the importance of satisfying a man with a fetish fantasy and knew it was something he would always remember.

“God Amy that felt so good.â€￾

“Well you deserve it. You have been working really hard these last few months and this farm is really starting to turn around. It’s been a long time since I put on nylons and played a little footsie with you, but I know you like it, and you know I don’t mind.â€￾

“No?â€￾

“Not at all, but as I watched the bull breed those heifers today I realized they are not the only thing that needs to get breed. What would all this hard work mean if we did not have children to pass it on to? Don’t you think its time to hear the little pitter-patter of feet around this place? Maybe a boy to help you do chores in a few years? Maybe a little-daddy’s girl to have some 4H sheep?â€￾ Now that I took the edge off I figure we can make love all night.â€￾

“And getting the haylage in before it rains?â€￾

“That will have to wait,â€￾ Amy said with a lustful smile.