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She told Tim the whole story, leaving the sex part out of course. She told him that she had had to pee so she dropped everything in the dark, squatted down, and did her business. Then I whispered to her that there were two deer standing behind her, she grabbed her bow, and shot the doe with her panties still down around her ankles. We all laughed about that. It was a deer story that would be told every year after that.Juliette and I went back to just being friends again but we shared a very personal experience together during that hunting season. One I hoped to realize again someday.Juliette gave me her doe head and I took both of the heads to my taxidermist. He did a fantastic job of mounting them together on one display board. The buck’s head stands up proud and the doe’s head is nuzzled into his neck in a very loving way. Below their heads are the two arrows that killed them. I thought about mounting one hoof from each of them and setting the arrows on them but then I decided that. I had been fucked and I loved it!After that there would never be a time when I didn't want that experience repeated again and again. I'd be shelling peas or hoeing cornrows or feeding chickens or mixing biscuits and my pussy would be itching and hungering for daddy's dick. In the evenings, sitting around reading or chatting, my pussy would constrict and drip with fuck-lust for daddy's dick. I couldn't keep my mind on anything but fucking, it became my raison d'etre. Wake up in the morning and figure ways to get daddy's dick inside me, fuck my brother and be dreaming of daddy's dick ramming home in me. Try to listen to the news or do a bit of needlepoint and all my eyes could see was daddy's dick aiming for my open and welcoming pussy. I must have driven him crazy with my fondling and sucking and pleading, and I think that's why I got my dildo.It came wrapped in brown paper, we always saved such things on the farm. It lay beside my place at the table when momma called us to breakfast..
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An old woman arrived on a four-wheeler, to bring him something to eat and drink. She also waved over and smiled. Past a small grove of trees there was a cluster of broken down timber buildings that struck Anne with the same weird sense of pathos. There was a gate to an overgrown driveway. It looked like it may have once been a little farm, but there was no house. As Anne rolled on past the gate, she saw that it had a heavy chain wound around it with a big rusty padlock. There may well have been a house once. There was something she couldn’t quite see that looked like foundations poking up through long grass. She was rolling slowly along the edge of the road, peering around at other buildings in the distance that also looked familiar. There was a tree line that she somehow knew was a creek with a deep, cool swimming hole. That picture flashed to mind as she stopped again and just relaxed, closing her eyes. ***Chapter 3*** Nick swung another bale onto his shoulder and leaped up onto.

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