Thansgiving Stuffing

"No," she moans as if she's sad to feel it sliding into her, but her body opens up, allowing me to slide in deeper, and her tiny whimpers of "no" become "ohhh".

I groan. Her body is like hot melted butter. Her breasts are as sweet as ganache. Her vagina stretches wide, taking my monster halfway into her, and she groans somewhere deep inside and my cock stretches her deeper.

"Oh my god baby," I groan, and then I clamp my mouth shut. "We can't," I blurt, but my cock says we can. My hands grab her ass and squeeze and she gasps. I feel her thighs tremble as she struggles to take me into her fully, but there's no way. I wasn't kidding when I said I was bigger than the carrot.

She lifts herself a millimeter as if testing to see if this is it, or if there's something she can do, a specific angle to make me go deeper and I gasp as her pussy spasms around me.

"Sweetie," I groan again. My cock swells. This isn't right. We need to stop, but I don't want to stop. I want to grab her by the hips and push her pussy down onto me, to stretch her so deep and so good she never wants another cock in her ever again. My mind and my body fight for control. Megan rests her weight on me and I feel her pussy stretching and she groans, but in her state of delirium, she has no idea what she's doing.

"Sweetie," I groan, my cock swelling deep inside her, stretching her to the limit. "Baby. We need to get out of here," I say. "We need to go... before we do something we can't take back! Megan!"

"Daddy?" Megan asks, and her eyes slowly focus on my face. I smile and she recognizes me again. She looks down between us and gasps. "Oh my god," she groans when she attempts to lift herself from my impalement, and I feel her pussy clamp down on me, squeezing me so goddamn tight, she feels like a vice grip.

"Baby! Baby-fuck! Ow! God damn!" I groan and grunt. "You're... god damn! Crushing me!"

Megan trembles and then attempts to stand again, her shaking legs just barely able to pull her tight stretched pussy off of my cock. It comes free at the last possible moment, and I see pre-cum drip from the hole. I know then, if she hadn't moved, it would have been bad.

My cock jerks hard as Megan slides one hand between her legs and moans. A thick rope of white hot cum jets out of me, laying itself across Megan's thigh and she glances down just as the second jolt spurts a line across her abdomen.

In the next three seconds, so many things happen, that my brain barely has time to register. I grab my cock to change the angle, so I don't keep cumming on my baby girl. Megan drops to her knees and before I realize what she's doing, her mouth is wrapped around my cock. I let go and she replaces my hand with hers. My cock jerks, shooting another thick rope of cum, but this time, Megan swallows it hungrily. I feel her tongue slide against the underside of my cock as it jerks again, cum flooding her mouth and she groans. I realize I can't stop. I don't want to stop. And she doesn't want me to stop either.

She squeezes the base of my cock in rhythm with her sucking and my cock responds, squeezing harder, shooting my cum into her mouth in powerful bursts that drain my balls in seconds. Megan keeps sucking, siding her lips up and down my shaft, even though she can only get half in at the deepest, but it doesn't matter. It feels so fucking good, I never want it to stop. I gasp as she finishes up, her lips sliding over and around the head of my cock, her tongue licking the hole sideways, trying to get the very last drop out, like a good little girl. My whole body jerks in orgasm and I know, this is the best thing I've ever felt in my entire fucking life... Ever.

Megan kisses the head of my cock, and then stands up like it was nothing. I see her wipe something off the side of her mouth and she absently sucks her finger, cleaning it, and then turns, opens the door, and steps out. I feel a gust of cold air hit me and it chills me to the core, killing my erection with deadly efficiency.

I stand up and step out of the sauna, looking around. Megan is at our baskets of clothing, sliding her panties up her legs with some minor difficulty. I hurry over, checking to make sure the masseuse, or his client, hasn't seen anything. The masseuse is standing with his back to the door, but there's nobody inside... whoever was getting a massage has left. I turn and look at Megan and she glances back at me. "Get dressed," she says.

I hurry over to the basket and notice Megan is still having trouble getting the panties up. They keep bunching because her skin is so soft and moist now, and I grab a towel and step close, gently placing it on her shoulders.

Megan tilts her head back, her eyes close, and she sighs.

"Let me help you," I say, and I use one end of the towel to dry her body, rubbing it over her breasts, down her belly, around her hips, down her thighs, and back up between her buttocks. I reach between her legs from behind and gently grab her mound, drying it all at once as I pull the towel through her gap and she groans and then glances back over her shoulder.

"Sorry," I say softly.

She turns and stares at me. "You don't get to say sorry to me... ever again."

I close my mouth and she turns back around. "Dry my hair please."

I'm confused. I lift the towel and dry her hair quickly, making sure it looks and feels like it should, or as best I can without a blowdryer and a volume brush. She turns back around, her panties still mid-thigh, and smirks. "They're not going to pull themselves up."

"You want me to do it?" I ask, and she says nothing. "Okay. Well... I can do that," I say, and I step forward, untangle the rolled-up mess on her thighs, make sure everything is back in order, and then expertly pull them up over her hips until the middle is snug against her pussy. I lay the sides against her upper hips and run my hands back and forth over them to make sure there are no wrinkles or folds.

Megan glances down and then looks back up. "The middle is folded."

I reach between her legs and slid my fingers between her pussy lips and the panty fabric, flattening it out, and feeling how deliciously wet and hot she feels against my knuckles. I tuck the edges of her panties into the gap between her mound and inner thigh, and then, as I've seen her do on numerous occasions, I slide my hand down her slit and pull my fingers back up, pressing the middle of her panties into her slit just enough so the crease is clearly visible, and she moans. Clearly, she's not that pissed at me.

She turns, grabs her bra from the basket, and scoops her breasts into it before spinning around and giving me her back. "Can you hook me?"

I grab the bra straps and attach the hooks and eyelets quickly, and she spins back around, that same strange look on her face, and I cannot help but smile.

"Hurry up, before someone catches us," Megan says, and she continues getting dressed as I hurry to do the same.

I grab my phone out of my back pocket to check the time, and I see it's nearly four. "Holy shit," I say softly, and Megan turns to me. "It's almost... well, it is four. We only have about two hours left."

"Did you wanna get back in the sauna?" Megan asks me, that same strange smile playing across her lips and I smile back. I think I know why she's doing that, but I don't know if it's such a good idea... that this continues.

"I wanted to take a walk," I say softly. "There's a maple syrup boiler down the way there, and... I wanted to go see the animals too."

"Okay," Megan says with a heartwarming smile. "Let's go."

She wraps her arms around mine and pulls me close as we leave the bathhouse and the cold winter air, crisp and dry, hits us both full force in the face, chilling us to the bone. "We should have brought out jackets," I say to her as we run towards the lower end of the property, passing hay bales and other "farm" equipment which is now kept and maintained in place for a more aesthetic look.

We get to the barn first, and I pull open the normal human-sized door and we enter. It's warm and smells of earth and hay, and a little horse shit, but that's expected, given the standard residents.

Megan doesn't seem turned off at all. She rushes forward as soon as she sees a horse's head and starts speaking to it in a child's voice. "Ohhh who's a pretty girl? Huh? Oh, look at you. Your nose is so soft," she says, reaching a hand out to gently stroke the horse's face.

"I think... that's a boy," I say, glancing behind the front shoulders.

"How can you tell?" Megan asks, leaning over and looking where I'm looking. "Thats... HOLY SHIT!" I laugh and Megan looks like she's going to die. "Jesus Christ! Whoa! Who's a big boy!" The horse snuffles against Megan's hand and she giggles. "My god Daddy. He's almost as big as you."

I stop smiling instantly and swallow hard. I don't know what I was thinking but for some reason... I assumed... we'd just forget about what happened... as if it had never happened at all... but clearly... that's not the case.

"We can't tell anyone," I whisper to her, and she glances at me and then smirks. "I'm serious."

"Daddy," Megan says softly. "I'm not going to tell anyone. And neither is he." I feel my face turn red with embarrassment and she gives me a look as my mouth opens to apologize. "No. Don't say it." She leaves her hand to slide off the horse's muzzle, and takes two steps to me, her lips lifting to give me a quick peck and a smile. "What other animals are in here?"

"I, uh... I'm not sure," I say as I take a step, and then another, heading down the row of animal pens. "When I was younger, we had all sorts of animals. But there's been a lot of changes and raising pigs for meat is more expensive than just buying bacon and sausage nowadays."

"Isn't it still... pig?" Megan asks.

"Yeah," I say, "but... big corporations have made it almost impossible for small farms to raise animals for profit. I think we might still have... yup. There they are. There's the piggies."

Megan hurries forward but we can't touch or pet the pigs because there's a huge plexiglass plate sealing off the pen from the inside of the barn.

"They probably have that to ward off the smell," I say.

"It's because they bite," a voice says from above, and I look up to see an older man and woman standing on the balcony.

I look at Megan and she looks back at me. Clearly, I forgot about the upper rooms being open to the interior of the barn, and the interior balconies are new. From the look on Megan's face, I can tell she's thinking the same thing I am. Did they see us kiss?

Megan smirks and then goes up on tippy toes and kisses me again. "Love you, Daddy!"

"I love you too," I say, and she walks down the length of the barn, looking in the other pens excitedly.

"How's the weather?" I ask, glancing up.

"Cold," the man says, sipping a cup of what I can only assume is coffee. "But it's nice. No snow yet... which means it's going to be one hell of a blizzard in a week or so."

I nod my head in agreement. "So, how do you like it here?"

"Best place," the man says. "My name is Mark. This is my wife, Stacy," he says, motioning toward the woman standing next to him. "We always come here for the holidays. Same room every year. I like that they make improvements and upgrades. Last year it was better Wi-Fi. This year, bigger TVs and thicker sliding glass doors. Before, you could have the heat turned up and you'd still feel the cold halfway across the room. This year, it's like they're super insulated."

"It was the door frames," I say, nodding. "They weren't installed square by the builder. I had to come make adjustments to every one of them, all the way down the line," I say.

"Oh, you work here?"

"I'm the owner's brother. I do all the carpentry work... well, most of it anyway."

Stacy turns and says something to Mark and when she turns back, her skirt flutters away from her legs, revealing long slender legs and a smooth-shaved pussy. Clearly, she's not wearing any panties, and I look away, averting my gaze because I don't want to be seen as a creeper.

"You got a business card?" Mark asks.

"Yeah," I say, grabbing one from my wallet. I hurry to the stairs and climb to the second floor, and around to the balcony area, noting numerous issues that need correcting, or simply joints that need different hardware or reinforcement, and I make a mental note to mention it to Hattie.

I shake Mark's hand when I give him my business card. He nods and I shake his wife's hand as well. Mark gives Stacy my business card and says "Can you put that away for me? Somewhere safe?"

Stacy nods and slides the business card into the top of her dress, and I realize then that her dress is almost see-through, if not for the tiny blue floral design which makes it look solid from a distance. Stacy's nipples form hard points against the underside of the material, and she smiles at me with big pouty lips.

"Well, I've got a couple of jobs I'm lining up and I need someone reliable. I'm not interested in speed. I need skill."

"Well, I think I might be the right person then," I say with a nod. "I've been woodworking all my life. Granted, I'm not the quickest, but I'm really good with my hands."

Mark nods and takes another sip of coffee. "Do you do interior design? Home decor? Or just corporate and office?"

"Oh, I mostly do high-end home design. Functional and practical. You see a lot of those tables and benches that fold and turn into different items? I do a couple of those. I also do tables, chairs, desks, dressers, and drawers."

"Oh good. My wife has a couple of drawers that keep getting stuck in the house. How much do you charge for house calls?"

"I charge a hundred, but I credit that toward any repairs or new installations or purchases. I also guarantee my work, so if you have the same problem and I have to keep coming back to fix it, you don't have to pay anything. Like I said, I do really good work. Excellent work."

"Sounds good," Mark says with a nod, and Stacy smiles at me as if she can't wait to see me with a hammer in my hand.

"Daddy?" Megan calls up to me. "I wanna go see the syrup thing."

I give Mark and Stacy another smile and hurry away, feeling it was probably the best time to end that conversation before they got to inviting me into their bedroom to fix the pipes after Thanksgiving dinner.

"Who was that?" Megan asks me as we exit the barn and head toward the gigantic steaming cauldron some hundred feet away from the barn.

"Mark and Stacy," I say. "New clients. They want me to un-stick some drawers at their house."

"I bet," Megan says. "And I'm just going to go out on a limb here and say, no."

"No?" I repeat, turning my face to look at Megan. "No what?"

"You're not going to their house," she says, holding her arms tight against her body to fight the blowing wind.

"Sweetie, this is what I do for a living," I say. "I can't just turn down jobs because-"

"Because his wife wants to fuck you?"

My mouth falls open but Megan looks unabashed. "How many people ask for the carpenter's special?"

I can't help but laugh and Megan smiles, but then gets serious again. "I bet she was sizing up your hammer."

"She was," I say softly. "But I keep it professional. I don't give into stuff like that."

Megan gives me a glance and then that weird smile crosses her lips again. "Uh-huh."

"I swear," I say, looking up toward the cauldron as we get close. "Last time I did anything like that was... years ago," I lie. The truth of the matter is, I got more action being single and accepting offers from desperate housewives during jobs, than I ever did while I was married, including the time when Tina and I were "dating".

"Yeah, well... no more of that."

I don't say anything because I'm still trying to figure out what Megan is thinking. Is she saying she cares about me? She doesn't want me getting hurt? Is she generally concerned about my... promiscuity? Or... is she planning a repeat performance of what happened in the sauna? Does she think... that we're a couple now? Like... she's going to provide for me... and... I'm just going to say, she's my partner now.

Megan gives me another smile against the biting wind and then looks at the giant cauldron which is shielded by a huge metal ring around it. Smoke billows from below and the scent of burning wood and sweet water fills the air every time the wind dies down, and a man comes running out of the barn and slides a large metal disk over the top of the cauldron.

"It's about to start raining," the man says. "Gotta cover it up."

"You just leave it out here, on the fire?" I ask. "How long?"

"Weeks," the man says. "We add buckets of sap every day, all day long. It keeps boiling and we keep adding to it. At some point, it'll get to be a certain grade, and we'll stop adding to it, and let it cool, and then we pump it out and filter it. After that, we bottle it and sell it in the gift shop."

"How much does it sell for?" I ask.

"Don't know," the man says. "I haven't needed to buy anything outta the gift shop... ever." He smiles and hurries off to do something else.

"Let's go," Megan says, and she starts back toward the main building. We're halfway there when I feel a light misting rain hit me in the face, and three-quarters of the way when bigger drops start spattering me. We're just yanking the door open when the rain becomes a torrential downpour, soaking absolutely everything in its path, and I look back across the grounds where I can't even see the barn standing, it's raining so hard.

"Just in the nick of time," I say.

"Can we stop back at the room?" Megan asks me quickly. "I want to go change."

I check my phone. "We have about an hour," I say.

"Don't you want to mash the potatoes?" She asks me.

"Oh right. Okay, then... forty-five minutes. It shouldn't take you that long," I say.

"Well, I guess that depends," Megan says slyly, and she turns and heads toward the room, her perfect as swaying back and forth as she hurries.

We reach the room and Megan immediately kicks her shoes off and starts pulling her pants down. I watch, mesmerized, as she flings the pants onto the bed and then rolls her panties down her hips until they form a figure eight and drop to her ankles. She drops into a squat, grabs them off the floor, and goes to our bag, opening it and pulling something out I don't recognize.

"What is that?" I ask, coming forward to see.

"I told you," Megan says softly, pulling her shirt up over her head and unclasping her bra. "It's a surprise. Now turn around. I don't want you peeking."

I turn around, but inside my head, I'm wondering, how long did she have this planned? Did she have this planned? Did she... intend, any of this? I'm still wondering almost five minutes later when Megan finally says, "Okay. Ready?"

"Yeah," I say, and I turn back around.

Megan stands there, wearing the surprise, and I gawk at her, unable to comprehend just how much thought she's put into it.

She stands in front of me, wearing a form-fitting outfit that looks as if it's made from the same material women's stockings are made of, and it probably is. Her breasts hang seductively, her nipples hard and poking out from underneath. The material doesn't touch her sides as her chest is a bit wider than her stomach, but it reconnects lower down, right before her mound where the material parts, opening to each side, exposing her entire sex, and then closing back in to snug around each leg and thigh.

"I know how much you like stuff like this," she says with that same weird smile on her face. "See-through panties and stuff like that."

"This is... amazing," I say softly.

"You like it?" she asks, stepping forward.

"I do," I say, looking her up and down and all over. My cock stiffens and again I'm having this internal debate about what's right and wrong, but for some reason, the temptation is winning, and my moral compass swings in the opposite direction.