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Tractor

14.03.2017
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I’d been out with the tractor half the day and was now taking it back to where we keep the heavy machinery. Several of the farms had chipped in for the big stuff and we stored it in a common lot at the back of the farms. The only way to reach this common lot was via a narrow private road that ran between the farms and dead ended at the machinery compound.

All of our farms could be accessed from that private road so we rarely needed to take the tractors and such out onto the main roads, which the neighbouring motorists probably considered a blessing. It can be a real bastard trying to pass a slow tractor on some of those roads.

Being the best tractor operator of the lot of us, I’d generally get tapped if there was a bit of tricky work to be done with one, which was fair enough. It meant I could tap the boys when their expertise was needed over some other matter.

Now I’d been at Sam’s place and his place was the furthest from the machinery area. When you considered the size of the farms, that private road was several kilometres long. (We had our own grader attachment for the tractor. Kept the road usable.) I’d left Sam’s place and was puttering down the road at about 20kph. Slow, I know, but she was an old tractor. We’ve been talking about getting a new one but what the hell, she still goes, so we keep putting it off.

I’d gone about a kilometre down the track and had a couple more to go when I hear this horn behind me. I turn my head to see who the hell is behind me and there’s this little red coupe following me and tooting.

Now consider where we were; a private dead end road between a flock of farms, leading only to the machinery compound. Yes, you could get off the road and onto one of the farms if you wanted to, but you’d be stuck in a paddock at the back of the farm. OK if you’re driving a 4WD, but not exactly your coupe type terrain.

I naturally thought that the driver was trying to attract my attention so I pulled up, climbed down, and wandered back to see what they wanted. Probably directions, because they were surely lost.

The driver’s window came down and there was this cute little girl inside. She was driving, so she had to be eighteen, but she sure didn’t look it.

“Afternoon, miss,” I said with a smile. “Can I help you with something?”

“Why, yes, you can, moron,” she snapped. “Instead of stopping in the middle of the road you can pull over and let me past.”

It seemed my loveable charm wasn’t operating where she was concerned. I nodded thoughtfully and head back to the tractor. Pull over, she said. Let her past, she said. And precisely where did she expect me to pull over? The road was wide enough for the tractor but it sure wasn’t a two way road. Mind you, if she’d asked nice I might have stopped at a farm entrance and let her past, but she didn’t ask nice.

I climbed back on board and headed on down the track, at 15kph. Didn’t want to strain the old girl, now did I? Another slow kilometre and I could feel her seething in her car. It would have been obvious to her that there weren’t any places I could pull over. It wasn’t as I was deliberately slowing her down. These things happen.

The reason I mentioned travelling that second kilometre was because that’s the point I had to stop again. Cow on the road. I pulled up and got down, hearing a crunching sound from the rear of the tractor, but not thinking anything of it. I strolled over to the cow lying in the road, chewing its cud.

I was passing Rod’s place and the gate to his field was slightly ajar. He had a defective catch on it and he’d been told to fix it. On my way back from dropping of the tractor I’d stop and nail the damn gate closed. Maybe he’d get the message.

I choused the cow back into the field and wedged the gate closed. It would keep until I made the trip back. Turning back to the tractor and there was little miss red coupe, almost dancing on the spot in her fury and agitation.

I spread my hands in a ‘what can you do’ gesture.

“The boys complain if I drive over the odd cow on the road,” I called to her, “and it makes the front of the tractor all mucky. I find it simpler to just send the cow home.”

“Screw the stupid cow,” she raged. “Look what you’ve done to my car, you idiot. This is all your fault. Why couldn’t you just move over when I asked?”

“Just where would you suggest I pull over?” I asked. “You can see for yourself there’s nowhere to go. And what’s wrong with your car, anyway?”

I went to look at where she was parked right bang up against the tractor. Really and truly bang up against the tractor. When I’d stopped, she’d been too close to me and couldn’t stop in time. Cosmetic damage only, I noted. When you’re braking from 15kph you slow down fast and don’t hit hard. I was surprised that she managed to hit me at all.

“Bit of damage there,” I observed. “That’ll cost you a bit. Got insurance have you?”

“Yes I have insurance. More to the point is do you have insurance? I assume that you do insure your vehicles, even on a farm. This was your fault and your insurance will be paying.”

“Lady, you have got to be kidding. You were tailgating and rear-ended me. Not a court in the land would find in your favour. Your insurance company wouldn’t even bother approaching mine. Geez, I was only doing fifteen and still you managed to hit me. You do have a license, don’t you? I’ll need to see it just in case you managed to scratch my old girl.”

“Scratch your tractor?” she yelped. “Scratch your fucking tractor? It’s nothing but dents and scratches. What, are you going to point to one of a thousand scratches and say that one’s my fault? You’re insane. That old thing is only held together by wire and string.”

She had a point there. The catch to the engine cover had snapped off and we had some wire holding it in place.

“OK. I’ll waive any damages you might have done with your careless driving,” I said generously. “We’ll still need to exchange details as you have picked up some damage. Ah, I’m assuming that you damaged your car hitting me. It’s not previous damage, is it?”

It wasn’t. I’d see how neat and trim her car looked when I’d stopped earlier to see what she wanted. Still, it didn’t hurt to stir her up a bit.

I took my time noting down her details, with her practically jumping up and down in frustration. She had a rude mouth on her and was rather free with her insults, finally demanding I get a move on.

“Just how much longer are you going to block my way, anyway? Why can’t you pull into a field or something?”

“The weather’s been a bit wet,” I said glibly. “Wouldn’t want to get bogged, would I.”

Fat chance of that happening with my tractor. She might be old but she could still go places.

She muttered something that sounded like a fervent prayer that both I and my tractor would get bogged in a bed of quicksand, and the quicker the sand the better.

“Well, how much further until I can pass you?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Well, now, you just aren’t going to be able to pass me. Another kilometre and I’ll be at the machinery compound and I’ll park there, but that’s the end of the road, so there’s nowhere else for you to go.”

“What?”

“This road ends at our machinery compound in about one kilometre,” I said slowly but clearly. “I’ll park the tractor in its shed. There is nowhere for anyone to go from the compound but back down this road. Where did you think you were going?”

“I was told the first right would take me to Bangoonah,” she said. “This was the first right.”

“Locals don’t consider this a road,” I pointed out. “Bangoonah is the first road on the right after this track. Didn’t you see the great big sign at the start of the road saying private road, no entrance, dead end?”

She shook her head and I nodded in sympathy.

“Probably because it blew down in that big storm last month. We really need to do something about getting it remounted.”

“You imbecile,” she yelled. “You knew damn well I was on the wrong road. Why didn’t you tell me when you first stopped?”

“Well, now, I kind of suspicioned that you might have turned astray and I was going to tell you but you know how it is. We morons forget things so easily.”

She blinked while she digested that, went pale, then flushed. She seemed a trifle upset. Things went downhill rapidly.

“You inconsiderate buffoon,” she snarled and slapped me.

No telegraphing of her move to give me time to dodge. Just bam, as she did her best to knock my head right off. Quite a slap she had. It hurt her, too, as she was shaking her hand while glaring at me.

Now I could accept the bad temper and abuse but I had to draw the line somewhere. Attacking me physically was definitely stepping over the mark. I took a step closer to the tractor and sat on the bottom step, snagging her arm on the way over and fetching her along with me.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” I said gently, putting her across my knee. This is not to say that she just calmly bent over my knee when instructed to do so. She wriggled and swore and hit at me, but I way outclassed her in weight and strength. Like it or not, and she didn’t, she went over my knee.

I delivered a couple of firm spanks to her rear and then paused.

“This doesn’t seem right,” I murmured.

“You’re damn right about that,” she shrieked. “You know damn well this isn’t right, you oaf.”

“I’m glad you agree,” I told her.

She was wearing these skin tight pants, tights or yoga pants or whatever you might want to call them. She certainly had the figure to show off those pants in a flattering light. I lowered them, taking her panties down with them, giving me a nice bare bottom to chastise.

“It just seems more fitting that a naughty girl gets her bottom bared when it’s beaten,” I explained when she demanded what the hell I thought I was doing. “You agreed it wasn’t right to have those things on.”

I suspect she was going to explain that I’d mistaken her meaning but I didn’t really give her a chance. My hand came down firmly on a nice white bottom, leaving a nice pink hand-print, the sting stopping her from saying anything coherent.

I didn’t muck around. I paddled her pretty little bottom good and hard, giving it a nice flush. I didn’t take undue advantage, even though her legs were parted and waving around. Not talking undue advantage didn’t mean that I didn’t find time to admire the view.

She was, I was happy to see, clean shaven, which in my mind denotes cleanliness and an erotic nature. Her lips were plump and firm and nicely closed. At the start, anyway.

I was amused to see her mound swell slightly while I spanked her, her outer lips pouting, her inner lips puffing up lightly and protruding. There was even a gleam of moisture along her lips but, like I said, I didn’t take undue advantage and refrained from poking her in that area.

Her initial screams of pain had quickly dwindled into protests and wriggling, which I considered fair enough. I wasn’t spanking her that hard, delivering a lesson rather than a beating. What did surprise me was the note of excitement in her voice as she made her protests. That excitement tended to undercut the effect of her protests. It also made me wonder just how effective a punishment the spanking was.

Satisfied that the lesson had been delivered I swung her back to her feet. Now if you’ve just pulled down a girl’s panties and beaten her bottom you’d expect the first thing she’d do on being released would be to pull up those panties. Not this lady.

She stood there, facing me, hands hovering over her bottom as though wanting to rub it but not quite game. No attempt to cover herself. She was staring at me, a look of shock and excitement on her face. She was flushed and breathing hard, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears.

I stood up and, facing her, I started undoing my trousers.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“I’m taking off my trousers,” I said, pausing for a moment to explain. “If you are still standing in front of me once they are off I am going to remove the rest of your clothes, pick you up, and put you down firmly on my cock. If, on the other hand, you pull up your pants and run to your car, I’ll probably let you go.”

“P-probably?”

“Mm. Probably. Too much trouble to pry you out of the car so I don’t think I’d bother.”

With that I continued to take off my trousers and she continued to watch, her eyes seeming to get bigger and bigger as I proceeded.

At least, with my trousers off she could see I was serious and she was still just standing there, looking at me, flushing harder than ever, mouth slightly open and breathing hard. I moved closer to her and started undoing the buttons on her blouse. I pushed the blouse off her shoulders and down her arms, reached around her to unfasten her bra, and pushed that down to join her blouse.

Stepping back for a moment I simply looked her up and down, admiring the sight of her. A very tasty piece of femininity. Then I went down on one knee and moved her pants and panties from knee level to ground level, encouraging her to step out of them.

Pulling her blouse and bra off her wrists I deposited her clothes on the grass by the side of the road. Then I was standing in front of her again, reaching for her.

“Ah, listen,” she quickly said. “I don’t think. . .”

“I’ve noticed,” I said, breaking into whatever she wanted to say. “Too late now to start.”

I pulled her closer to me, hearing her breath catch for a moment when she felt the hard length of me pressing against her. My hands closed over the cheeks of her bottom, holding firmly.

“Hands on my shoulders,” I told her, and she placed them there, holding tightly. I lifted her by her bottom, dragging her against my erection, noting that her legs were parting and moving around me.

I lifted her until my erection slipped between her legs and then I started lowering her. I was lucky. I found no need to grope around to hit the right spot, her lips yielding and admitting me at first contact. Just like that my cock was moving into her.

I relaxed my grip on her bottom, letting her weight do the work. She gave a little squeak, hands and legs tightening their grip on me, trying to hold herself up off my cock. Well, not trying to hold herself off it; more trying to control the rate at which she descended onto it.

It didn’t really matter of she was helping or hindering, I slid into place with a minimum of fuss, sheathing myself in her with no dramas. While doing that I also took a few steps closer to her car, giving me something of a nice height to place her bottom.

Her bottom hit the shiny red car and she started up.

“Oh my Lord,” she said, sounding vaguely shocked. “You’re doing it. You’re really doing it to me. How could you do this to me?”

‘Strip you, pick you up, and put you down firmly on my cock.’ What did she think those words meant? An euphemism for smack your bottom and chase you away? I gave her a clear choice and she’d stood right there, letting me strip her with no resistance. And now she’s surprised? Give me a break.

“Do me a favour,” I said, starting to slide happily back and forth. “Keep your mouth closed and let your body do the talking. I think you’ll understand what’s going on quickly enough.”

Her body was already doing its talking, moving quite eagerly with me, her legs wrapped around me, helping to pull me firmly into place with each thrust. Seeing the car was supporting her weight, and not me, my hands were free to play and they had already closed over her breasts, enjoying the feel of them.

I wasn’t rushing through this, just setting up a nice pattern of thrust and withdraw, while she matched my efforts, moving easily and (despite what she might claim) lustily against me. The woman was in her element, being taken semi-roughly by a man and having no say in the matter.

That’s not to say she had nothing to say. After getting over her apparent surprise at finding herself impaled she managed a few more words. There was a certain amount of appreciative, “oh, oh, oh,” a few ‘Oh, my god” and several other noises indicating approval. Then she found an objection.

“Oh my god. We’re outside in the middle of the day on a public road. Anyone could come along. How can you do this?”

“For a start it’s a private road. Secondly, you and I are the only two to use this road this week, let alone today. Thirdly, I don’t care, just keep doing what you’re doing.”

She let me know I was an unfeeling brute with no regard for the sensitivities of life. Maybe so, but I had a fine regard for a responsive woman, and she was proving very responsive. I had a sneaking suspicion that she’d have liked another car to come along, just so she could feel all embarrassed and guilty. She missed out, though. Zero traffic.

The little bit of back chat hadn’t slowed us down at all, and we were coming together in fine style. Her complaints regarding time and place and whether we should be doing this at all trailed away, being replaced with enthusiastic urging for me to go in harder. She needed it harder.

Never being one to disappoint a lady in need I went in harder, and a most rewarding occupation it was. She bucked and squirmed under me, nails digging into my shoulders and legs with a death-grip around me as we enjoyed out little interlude.

Finally it seemed to me that she was ready and I knew damn well that I was. I gave it to her with that little extra oomph, knowing from the startled look on her face that her climax was starting up. She screamed and finally relaxed her legs while pressing her pussy up against me as hard as she could, taking my offering with enthusiasm.

Afterwards she sagged back against the car, breathing hard, seeming unable to speak. While she was silent I took the opportunity to put my trousers back on. Being dressed while she was still naked tended to give me a slight advantage.

She finally shook herself and turned to me. Not knowing what she was going to say I jumped in first.

“It’s a long way back to the main road if you’re going to try backing up,” I said. “If you want to turn around there’s a gate just over there, where I let the cow back into the field. I can open that and give you room to manoeuvre. If you get bogged I can use the tractor to push you out.”

She didn’t look too pleased with either of these suggestions. I tossed her a third.

“The machinery lot is only another kilometre down the road. I can drive that in a couple of minutes and you can follow on behind. Plenty of room up there to turn around. Do you want to follow me?”

She signed and nodded.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ll get the old girl trundling along and by the time you’re dressed I’ll just about be there.”

She gave a squeak and dived for her clothes, while I climbed back on the tractor. Starting her up and driving along at 45kph I knocked over that last kilometre quite quickly, pulling into the yard before she even caught up to me. I’d parked and was getting down even as she pulled in and started doing a U-turn.

I walked over to where she was turning (badly) and when she was finally pointing in the right direction I banged on her roof and made a stop sign.

Her window came down and she was back to Miss Snarly.

“What?”

“Just hop out of the car for a moment and come here,” I said indicating the front of her car where the damage was.

I didn’t wait for a refusal, just moving around to the front of the car. The car door banged and she joined me.

“What is it?” she demanded, looking at the damage. “It’s not bad enough to stop me driving.”

Which it wasn’t, being cosmetic damage only.

“Oh, nothing to do with the damage,” I said. I moved closer, encouraging her to move closer to the car. “I just want you to bend over the car for a few minutes. Don’t worry, I’m not going to strip you. I’ll just lower your pants and panties a little way and we can take it from there.”

“Are you insane? Do you seriously expect me to bend over and let you pull down my pants? Besides, you just did it. You can’t want to do it again.”

“If I can’t perform again then you should drop your pants so you can laugh at me when I fail. Alternatively, if I can, it’s only fair that you let me because you’re the one who got me worked up.”

I wasn’t waiting around hoping for my words to persuade her. My hand was lightly pressing on her back, steering her into position. She was still protesting and explaining why this wasn’t a good idea when I was sliding her pants and panties down, exposing that lovely bottom of hers, still with a nice warm glow.

“Oh, come on, you can’t be serious. You don’t really – Oh my god, you can’t do that!”

The last comment was the result of my driving into her. Lustily, I think is the description of my entry. I’d acted on the supposition that she would still be wet and ready from earlier and took her with no attempt at moderation. As soon as my cock was touching her flesh it went driving fully in.

Seeing that, apart from having her bottom bared, she was still fully dressed, I didn’t bother with any extras like going for her breasts. A hand on each hip to steady her and I was going for it, driving in repeatedly in a rough and ready manner, while she squealed and squawked and carried on at this flagrant violation of her person.

For all her protests her hips were going with the action. She was bouncing to meet me, practically throwing herself backwards to ensure I speared her completely with each thrust. It only took a minute or so and her protests had dies away. I’m not saying she didn’t still have reservations and wouldn’t have minded making some more protests, but she just didn’t have the breath for it.

She was gasping and sobbing, pleading for more, and I was giving her more. I was giving her everything I had and thoroughly enjoying my work.

Seeing as it was seconds and I was taking her down and dirty I wasn’t really surprised to find that I wasn’t lasting as long as our first session. Pressure built up in me and I let loose, climaxing nicely, if not as copiously as earlier.

I can’t say the same for her. Her second climax, from my point of view, seemed to just explode through her, blowing her away. She screamed and shuddered and just slumped over the car, barely holding herself in place.

I fastened my trousers and regarded her, slumped on the car and bottom gleaming in the light. I couldn’t help myself. I stepped a little closer and placed a hand firmly in the middle of her back, holding her nicely in place. My other hand came around with a nice long swing, delivering a good swat to her bottom.

“What the fuck?” she screamed.

“Language,” I chided, delivering a second spank. “I’m just applying a little reinforcement to the message I gave you earlier. You will try to control your temper while driving, won’t you?”

I managed to deliver several firm spanks, reigniting that glow on her bottom and waking her up from the daze she’d been in.

At least, waking her up from her daze had been my intention (besides having a little friendly fun), but I guess life has surprises for us all. Apart from that first startled shriek her subsequent protests sounded more like excited moans than real protests. Accidentally delivering the final spank to her pussy rather than her bottom (genuine accident this time) I was quite shocked to have her scream and climax yet again. Damn. That gave her three to my one and a half.

After that I managed to keep my hands to myself while she got herself together and tidied her clothes. She tossed me an unreadable look and headed for her car without speaking, although she seemed to have a very smug way of walking. I strolled along next to her.

“Turn right at the end and the next right is the road you were supposed to be on,” I informed her cheerfully. “You might want to remember that in future. You can meet some pretty rough types along this back road at times. No knowing what sort of trouble you could get into.”

Did I mention that our equipment compound was at a dead-end? This wasn’t quite correct. If you had a 4WD there were a couple of paddocks you could get into and on the far side of the paddocks was a fair bit of rough country, good for off-road driving and a bit of hunting.

I’d barely mentioned rough types using the road when I spotted a 4WD coming down the road towards us. Fast.

“Better wait until this guy gets here,” I advised her. “Not much passing room you might recall.”

It didn’t take him long. A big black 4WD came charging into the compound and headed across to the paddocks, one man driving, three standing in the back, waving guns and beer bottles. Good old boys preparing for a night’s spot-lighting. They gave me a wave, her a chorus of appreciative cries, and then they were gone, bouncing off into the rough country, leaving me to close the gate behind them, blast them.

“Like I said,” I murmured. “Some rough types out this way. Lucky you met up with a gentleman.”

I was leaning on the car when I said that. Would you believe she just drove off from under me? I nearly fell flat on my face. Her manners definitely needed improving.

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