It seemed as though work here on my grandfather's farm would never end. Everywhere I looked there was overgrown brush and assorted items and rusty equipment to be cleaned up. Time had simply stood still since the grandparents had passed, and I felt fortunate enough to have it for my own and have it remain in the family.
For several days, I had attempted to clean out and organize the main barn. Old hay was still stacked in the loft, covered with thick spider webs which were now coated with dust and chaff. An old grain drill and planter sat along the back wall, waiting to be used again, but remained silent; slowly aging with thick rust.
The weather was unseasonably hot for fall, and having the huge door opened allowed what breeze there was to waft its way through, stirring up loose hay and dirt. As I swept the old wooden floor, billows of dust flowed out of the opening, almost resembling a fire. I had removed my shirt but kept my jeans on being cautious of nails and splinters which lurked on every corner and post. Sweat poured from my face, arms and chest and I grew darker by the minute as the loose dirt clung to my body.
As I labored to shovel one of the piles I had made into a trash can, I heard a vehicle rolling into the driveway. Peering through a crack in the siding I could see it was Brady. I recognized his truck immediately and my thoughts again returned to his last two visits: both unexpected and memorable.
"Hello?" Brady called as he stepped out of the cab. He was wearing sweats and a white t-shirt which had had the sleeves removed rather abruptly. The arm openings were rough and jagged as if they had been ripped off. I was intrigued that he was wearing tennis shoes and my thoughts went immediately back to high school. I could plainly see him walking the halls in his sweats and high-top sneakers; his full chest pushing against his cotton shirt. His dark wavy hair and bright smile were his best assets and made every girl swoon over him.
"I'm up here," I shouted through one of the cracks between the vertical boards. He turned his head toward the barn and slammed the door to the truck, taking large steps up the barn bank to the opening.
"God! how can you see through this dust?" he exclaimed, smiling broadly. "I thought you were cleaning this place up! " halfway chuckling as he stepped over a pile and approached me. He must have been feeling the heat as well because his sweats and t-shirt clung to the more pronounced parts of his body. His pecs stretched the fabric of his shirt, just as I remembered from several years ago. His sweats also were damp and clingy; especially across his ass and that bulge in the front. His dick lay slightly off to the left, resting on his leg and looked like a piece of sausage. His bubble butt was also imprinted into two firm cheeks as the heavy cotton rode up into his crack. His dick swung lightly as he paced across the floor looking the old barn over.
"Well, I 've been trying to make an improvement," I grinned as I scooped up another shovelful of dirt. "You should have seen it three days ago!" Dumping the debris into the can my eyes gazed at him, taking in his form. His tanned arms seemed huge, even with the extra opening in the shirt, and I could easily see inside his t-shirt as it gaped open on the side. Slight love handles rippled beside a firm six pack just under his pecs. One of his bronze nipples peeked out of the armhole closest to me, and my gaze became a stare. And there in the front of his sweats was his dick print. The damp cotton adhered to his dick and outlined it perfectly, accented by the ridge of his head at the end of a thick log. I swallowed and asked "So what have you been doing today?"
"I got off work and went for a workout. It's too damned hot to do anything else." Brady blurted out. "Besides, I thought maybe we could play the game again."
Brady's smile broadened as he leered at me, the corner of his mouth bending up sharply. "That is if you're not too tired and worn out" he laughed.
