Paint My Apples
It was around four-thirty in the afternoon, when I came up the drive to the Apple Family's home. I don't why I had decided to come here, today, other than I just felt like it. It was a warm Sunday morning, school was out, and I wanted to talk to my favorite farm girl.
As I came up the walk, I noticed noise coming from the barn, adjacent to the house, and walked over, my eyes briefly moving over the acres of land behind the house, out here on the edge of the city. The Apples owned a nice section of land, which they had intelligently parceled out between a small Apple orchard (fitting), various other crops, and a large section for grazing cattle and horses.
When I came to the entrance of the barn, I stopped, knocking on the door frame. "Hello? Anyone here?" I called out.
"Oh, hey, Arty!" Applejack's voice called out to me. "Come on in, I'm around by the truck!"
Smiling, I entered the barn and walked over to where the old family jalopy was sitting, awaiting it's next mission out from the farm. As I rounded it, the smell hit me first: Sweat, hay and manure, but mostly sweat. Applejack's appearance, where she sat on an old wooden bench by a worktable, explained this, as she had clearly been working in the fields. On a Sunday. Typical.
She was wearing a simple tank top and a pair of jean shorts cut off high up her thigh, both soaked with sweat, as was she. Her hat was hanging nearby, and she was in the process of removing her boots. As she took one off, the smell of it, sweaty and musky, struck my nose, and I swallowed hard, eyes locked on the dirty sock that hugged her foot. I could see her toes wiggling inside it, leaving impressions on the sweat-slick, discolored underside of the cotton.
"Hey, Arty, what was y'all . . . Arty?" Her voice snapped me back to reality and I looked up at her, a blush spreading over my face, which only increased when I realized I was starting to rise to half-mast in my jeans. She lifted an eyebrow. "What is it?"
"N-Nothing, AJ! How are you?" I stammered the lie, sweat beading on my forehead.
She stared at me a moment, narrowing her eyes, before looking down at her foot, then up at me. "Don't you be lyin' to me, none, Arty. You was starin' at my foot somethin' fierce. If it's the smell, I'm sorry." She said, looking momentarily embarrassed.
Shaking my head rapidly, not wanting her to think something was wrong, I blurted out "No, no! I like it!" And then clamped my mouth shut, turning an even brighter shade of red.
She looked up at me, eyes wide and eyebrows climbing. "Ya . . ya do?" She asked and, when I nodded sheepishly, she stared for a moment, before bursting out laughing. I stood, frowning, and looked away, putting my hands in my pockets, as her laughter rang out through the barn. After a moment, it died away, and she looekd at me, and her face turned a bit more serious.
"Ah, Arty, I wasn't meanin' to poke fun or nothin'! It just caught me by surprise, is all!" She said, turning to face me on the bench, while I scuffed my shoe on the concrete floor again.
"It's okay, AJ, I'm used to it." I said, my frustration and embarrassment clear in my voice.
"Hey, Arty, I'm sorry, really." She said, heartfelt and warm, and I looked over at her, in time to see a sheepish smile, touched with a hint of mischief, come over her face. "How's about I make it up to ya?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow and shifting my weight a bit.
She shrugged a bit and leaned back, bracing herself on the bench, and lifted her socked foot towards me. "Y'all can sniff it, if ya want." She said, blushing, and my eyebrows went through the roof, as a pang shot through my loins.
"R-R-Re-eally?" I stammered, biting my lip, and she nodded, looking a bit unsure, but also a little . . . was she getting turned on?
"Yeah . . . Yeah, I do, Arty. Come sniff my sweaty, dirty sock if'n y'all want." She said, wiggling her toes inside the cotton, and I felt my cock shift from semi-erect, to fully. Without really thinking, I found myself moving forward, and kneeling down in front of her. I leaned forwards, reaching out almost reverently to take hold of her foot, one hand under her heel, the other behind it, over the top. I leaned forward, bringing my face to within a couple of inches of it.
At this distance, I could feel the heat rising off of, damp, muggy from the sweat that was soaked into the fabric and was still slicking the flesh beneath. I breathed in through my nose, and the smell, heady, musky and as hot as her foot was invaded my nostrils. My breath deepened on its own, coming through my mouth as well as a shiver ran up my spine and my eyelids fluttered closed.
"Jeeze, you meant it, didn't ya?" She asked, and, as I came down, I opened my eyes and looked at her. She was staring at me, wide eyed and blushing, and I smiled sheepishly.
"S-Sorry." I said, biting my lip and looking away. I felt leather on my chin, along with the grit of soil, as she caught my face with the toe of her other boot and used it to turn me to face her. She was staring at me intently, and as I watched, her eyes became more lidded. More sensual.
"I didn't say it was a bad thing, Arty boy. How bout you take another whiff, huh?" She said, voice dusky and deep. Oh, yeah. She was definitely getting turned on, by this. The knowledge sent a throb through my cock, and, without hesitating, I leaned in and this time burried my face against her socked foot, feeling the sticky, wet feeling of the cotton as her sweat got rubbed onto my face as I breathed it in, sniffing it for all it was worth.
"Good boy." She chuckled from above, curling her toes and rubbing the sock up and down over my face. Next thing I knew, she had pulled it away and pressed her booted foot into my chest to keep me from following. "Take off the boot, Arty, and I'll give y'all two to play with." She said, with a wink.
I quickly complied, leaning back and taking her boot in my hands, much as I had her foot earlier, and began working it off. It was a bit tight in place, but once it came free, the smell rose up with it, and I wavered on my knees. Without thinking, I leaned down and put my nose inside her boot, breathing in deeply of the smell. I shivered, and felt a bit of pre leak out, inside my own jeans.
When I looked up, she was smirking at me, practically laying back on the bench, propped up on her elbows, and wiggling both socked feet at me. I dropped the boot and came over on my knees, reaching out and taking gentle hold of both her ankles, using that to guide my face into the warm, damp, sweat soaked embrace of her socks.
I nuzzled and wallowed my face around, back and forth between them, breathing deeply as though I had been drowning and this was my first taste of oxygen. She did not sit idle, but rather went to work, pressing and rubbing and stroking my face with her socks, leaving behind the wet residue of the sweat on them.
"Take 'em off, Arty." She said, and without any hesitation, I complied, peeling first one, then other off. I once more buried my face into them, sniffing and huffing of them. She chuckled. "Good boy! Why don't you whip that cock o' yours out and put one over it, hm?" She said, and I felt my heartrate increase. I leaned back, following her command with glee, as I unzziped my fly and reached in, pulling out my seven inch member, which got a low whistle from her, even as I slipped it into the hot ,wet embrace of her dirty sock.
"Good boy. Now, come 'ere and lick my soles." She said, wiggling her feet at me, and I leaned forward, taking hold of her ankles again and moving in. My tongue met with hot, sweaty flesh, feeling the callouses here and there on her feet, and I did not care. They were beautiful to me. I licked the sweat off of one of them, running my tongue from her heel to her boll and back down, before going up to her toes. I licked between each one, before taking them, one at a time, into my mouth, and sucking them clean of sweat, before I moved to the other foot and did the same thing.
"You like that ,Arty? You like my dirty farm girl feet?" She asked, breathlessly, and when I looked up, she had unbuttoned her jean shorts, sliding them down, and had a hand down inside of them, clearly pumping her fingers in and out of her pussy. I made a low affirmative sound, and kept worshiping and sucking on her toes.
"Good boy . . . I bet you'd like ta cum on 'em, wouldn't ya?" She said, and I felt my cock pulse, leaking pre inside of her sock, and I looked up, nodding with her toes still inside my mouth. "Well, don't be shy. Get up here and jerk off on 'em!" She commanded, and I stood, slipping her toes out of my mouth with a wet pop, and ,pulling her wet sock off of it, I took hold of my shaft as I looked down at her.
From this angle, I could just see her middle and ring fingers pumping in and out of her pussy, slick and wet with her juices. My eyes traced up her sweaty abs, so strong and well defined, to her breasts, c-cups, the perfect size, to her gorgeous face, red with lust and looking at me with a heated expression.
When she lifted her legs, I looked down, tracing the strong muscles of her thighs and calves, until I landed where I wanted to be. Her glorious feet, wet with both sweat and my saliva as she pressed them together, at about waist height on me.
Without hesitation, I moved over, standing in front of them, leaning foward to rub my cock across her toes and arches, then my balls as I began to stroke my shaft. I started with long, slow strokes, stepping back a bit so I could see her feet, the object of my worshipful masturbation. However, I was so hard, and so ready, it did not take long for me to start moving into faster and faster stroked. She would occasionally reach up with her toes, stroking my balls or the head of my cock, before lowering them down, presenting them to my cock, like a canvas to a brush.
Pre-cum started to leak from my tip, splattering her feet and toes, before dripping down to the floor, and that was all it took. My back arched as electricity seemed to flow through my loins, strike my tailbone and shot up my spine. With a grunt, I came, hard, a thick rope of come shooting out to splatter her feet. It seemed to be what she was wanting, as well, as I heard her cry out in bliss, but I could not make myself open my eyes to see.
I kept going, stroking myself until I physically couldn't anymore, feeling the pulse after pulse of my seed coming free of my cock. When I was spent, I let out a long, slow breath, and looked down.
Her blonde hair, falling free of its braid, was plastered to her face by sweat, and she was laying there, eyes unfocused, mouth open and breasts heaving as she caught her breath, occasionally twitching with the last aftershocks of her own orgasm.
Her feet had fallen somewhere in there, probably when she came, but they still had streaks of my cum on them, which was rolling off to the side as I watched, to drip down to the floor below. Some of my cum had shot high enough it landed on her thighs, and I even saw a streak on her shorts. I leaned up against the wall, chest heaving as I looked at her, and closed my eyes.
After a few moments, I heard her voice, tired and blissful. "Well, sugarcube, that . . . was amazing." I opened my eyes and saw her pushing herself up to sit on the bench, looking down at herself. "Jesus! What you been doin', savin' yerself fer marriage?!" She asked, grinning up at me with a shocked look at how much I had come.
I just shrugged, a bit embarrassed by it, even as she stood up, naked soles slapping on the concrete as she walked over, wrapping her arms around my neck, looking me straight in the eyes, and leaned in and kissed me. The kiss lasted for a bit, our tongues dancing around one another, and my hands exploring her bare lower back, and occasionally reaching down to squeeze her taut, muscular ass through her shorts.
When we broke apart, she was smiling breathlessly at me. She seemed like she wanted to say something, but couldn't think of what. Finally, she just chuckled, and said, "Hey, come help me clean up with the hose, and then we can go inside."
I bit my lip. "What about Big Mac or . . . Granny Smith?" Even though I knew I should be worried about her big brother breaking my back for this, the old lady was the one I was really concerned about. "Won't they figure out something's up if we both walk in soaking wet?"
She just waved her hand, snorting a laugh. "They might suspect, but I'm a grown woman, and what I do is my own business. They won't say nothin'."
"Well, if you're sure . . . Um . . . Why do you want me to come inside?"
She slowly turned and looked at me, an eyebrow rising up to her hairline nearly as a mischievous, decidedly still horny smile turned her mouth up at one side, and I swallowed hard, once again. "Oh. Uh . . . O-Okay!" I said, and proceeded to follow her for a night I doubted I'd ever forget.