The Small Town Country Gal
- 4 years ago
- 33
- 0
The Small Town Country Gal free porn video
I was making my way back to Dallas from a business trip to East Texas when I decided to stop off at a local country store in a very small town and grab a snack. As I pulled into the gravel-topped drive of the store, I noticed a fairly good looking gal walking down the sidewalk towards the same country store where I had just pulled into to park.
I pulled up in front of the store about the same time she walked right in front of my car. I smiled as she looked my way and she smiled back.
I love country gals who wear those real tight-fitting jeans and tight fitting shirts and this girl was no disappointment in this regard. She had an hour glass figure and long brown hair.
I stepped out of my car and into the store. I could see my beautiful angel over by the soda dispensing fountain. I grabbed a cola from the cooler and made my way to the chip aisle. As I did, my country angel stepped on the same aisle.
“Excuse me,” I said as I reached for a bag of chips.
“You’re fine,” she replied, grabbing a bag of chips. Out of instinct, I scanned her left hand for a ring. There wasn’t one.
I stepped to the side and allowed her to pay for her items, giving me another chance to get a good look at her tight little body. I guess she sensed I was sizing her up, because she glanced back at me and winked.
“You’re not from round here are ya?” she asked as the clerk bagged her snacks.
“Nah,” I replied, “Just passing through on my way back to Dallas.”
“I used to live in Dallas,” she replied, stepping to the side, as the clerk rang up my snacks and I slid my debit card into the card reader.
“I like it,” I nonchalantly replied.
“So what do you do?” she inquired.
“I’m a private investigator,” I replied matter-of-factly.
“That so cool,” she replied. “I dated a guy years ago that was a private investigator. Have you ever heard of Paul DeBaggadio?”
I had to admit, I did not know anyone by the name.
The clerk bagged my snack and handed me the bag.
“So do you live around here?” I asked as we walked out the front door of the store.
“Yeah,” she replied, “about a mile down the road.”
“Well, have a good one,” I replied, stepping towards my car. I was at a loss for words. She had a slight twang to her voice and I didn’t want to push the boundary of respect.
“You too sugar,” she replied, as she stepped on to the gravel of the parking lot and towards to two lane roadway.
I pulled up next to her just as she started walking the well beaten path in the grass next to the road. I rolled down my window and pulled up next to her.
“Do you want a ride?” I asked.
It was a pretty warm day. She didn’t hesitate to take me up on my offer, pulling open the passenger side door and slipping into the bucket seat next to me.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Rick,” I replied, as I turned on to the black top.
“I’m Tammy,” she replied. “I really appreciate the ride.”
“Where to?” I asked.
“Anywhere you want,” she replied.
I glanced in her direction.
“I really don’t want to head back to the house,” she said, “I get bored being there all day by myself.”
“You don’t work?” I asked.
“Laid off three months ago,” she replied, taking a sip on her fountain drink.
“Sorry to hear that,” I replied.
So now I had an angel in my car and I was stymied. I didn’t want to be rude and ask her to get out, but at the same time, I wondered where we were heading.
“So is there a park or some place around here where we can sit and chat?” I asked.
“Myers Park,” she said, “Turn right at the next black top.”
I didn’t say anything as I tried to formulate an exit plan. Part of me wanted to just take her home and part of me wanted see what was in those jeans. Just as I turned on the blacktop, I glanced over at my country gal. She smiled.
“Are you married?” she asked.
“Divorced,” I replied.
“What type of idiot woman gave up on you?” she asked. ‘You’re cute.”
My ego was now well stoked. The road sign read “Myers Park, Turn right.”
I turned on to a tree-lined dirt road. My country gal rolled down the window, allowing her long brown hair to blow freely in the passing breeze.
“I love this park,” she said as we rolled down the bumpy, one lane dirt road towards a small rise. As we topped the hill, the land opened up and we pulled into an empty dirt parking lot. A trash barrel sat off to one side, along a row of large oak trees and empty picnic tables.
I pulled up next to one of the picnic tables and parked.
She opened the passenger side door and rested her outstretched legs on the window ledge, as she reclined the seatback. The top button of her very tight button-down shirt was unfastened and I could easily make out the tops of her gorgeous breasts that were neatly tucked into a white lace bra.
“You know what I like about this park?” she asked, looking over at me.
I didn’t have the foggiest idea why she liked the park. It was nothing more than a row of shade trees down an old dirt road.
“No one ever comes over here,” she said, “...’cept lovers.”
Now... now, we were talking.
“So are you a ‘lover'?” I asked.
She looked at me and asked,
“Are you a ‘lover’?”
“I can be,” I replied.
My country girl smiled, as she unsnapped the button on her jeans.
“I need to lose some weight,” she casually replied, pulling her shirt tail from her jeans.
“Nah,” I replied, “I think you look fine.”
She pulled her shirt up, exposing her abdomen.
“I need to lose about ten pounds,” she shot back, patting her bare stomach.
I slipped my arm across the console and on to her stomach.
“No,” I argued back, circling my hand on her flat tummy, “Everything looks and feels fine to me.”
She silently unfastened the buttons on her shirt, allowing it to part, exposing her gorgeous breasts tucked into her 38D cup brassiere.
“My ex said I had a titty-dancer body,” she said, “but I never had the guts to dance.”
“Do you work out?” I asked, as I rested my hand on her abdomen.
“Sometimes,” she replied, shifting in her seat, dropping one of her outstretched legs down from the window perch. The zipper on her jeans opened slightly as we chatted and as she shifted positions. I casually slipped my hand to the lower part of her abdomen to gauge her reaction.
“I usually hit the gym in the mornings,” she replied, not saying anything about my advancing fingers, which now probed the very top of her cotton panties, “but I haven’t worked out in a few days.”
“I know what you mean,” I casually replied, as I slipped my fingers so very gently under the leading edge of her panties. “I used to work out, but with all my traveling, it has become hard to stay on a routine.”
Suddenly, my country girl asked,
“Do you have any protection with you?”
“No,” I replied. “But if it makes any difference to you, I’m clean.”
“Me too,” she replied. “Besides, I don’t normally do this because my boyfriend keeps me pretty happy, but he’s been on an extended business trip and I am missing it.”
I slipped my hand further into her panties, which were soaked in her body juices. She closed her eyes as I slipped a lone finger into her steaming hot pussy. I gently rubbed my fingers around, as she parted her legs to accommodate my exploratory moves. She pulled at the edges of her jeans, peeling them down past her hips. I had hit pay dirt.
“It looks like someone is a bit worked up,” I commented as I teasingly played with her clit.
“That’s not my fault,” she replied, as she pulled her panties down. She was freshly shaved and smelled extremely clean.
“Stay here,” I instructed as I stepped out of the car and made my way around to the passenger side. By the time I made it to her side of the car, she had managed to slip out of her jeans and her underwear. I unzipped my jeans as she stripped out of her button down shirt and unfastened her brassiere, tossing both into my back seat. She had the body of a goddess and her ex was correct- she missed her calling as a dancer. Her nipples were erect and strong, perched on top of her perfectly formed breasts.
I stripped out of my polo shirt and tossed it across the consoles and in to the driver’s seat. I unfastened my belt. She turned and faced me, pulling her hair back over her left shoulder.
“Let me,” she said, reaching out to feel my manhood through the fabric of my jeans.
She slowly lowered the zipper on my jeans as she looked up at me to gauge my reaction. My manhood strained against the cotton of my bikini briefs, as she pulled my blue jeans down my thighs. I stepped out of my jeans, even as my country gal squeezed my manhood though the fabric of my underwear. She pulled at the sides of my briefs and pulled them down, allowing my manhood to arch upwards. Her eyes widened as she saw the size of my tool.
“Oh wow!” she exclaimed as she wrapped her fingers around the thickness of my elongated shaft. She leaned forward and planted a light kiss on the very tip-end of my circumcised cock. She used her tongue to clean the pre-cum that had leaked from the slit at the end of my tool.
She looked up at me and smiled.
“Can I?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied. It was a silly question, but one I admired because of her thoughtfulness.
She silently slipped my manhood into her oral cavity. Oh my gawd! I thought for sure I would explode right then and there. She cupped my balls in her hands and massaged them, as she worked her wicked tongue and mouth over my manhood. I had to stop her.
I gently pushed her back against the console that separated the front seats. She rested one leg on the window sill and the other I held in my hand, spreading them apart in front of me. I pushed the head of my manhood up to her vagina and gently worked it back and forth over her clit and then the folds of her vagina.
“Fuck me,” she pleaded. “Put it in me and fuck me!”
I pushed my manhood into her vagina. Even though she was wet, it was a tight fit. She grimaced as I pushed my pelvis against hers. She closed her eyes and then opened them wide as my pelvis crashed into hers. She gabbed at my wrist that was holding on to her leg and pleaded,
“Harder! Harder, HARDER!”
She trembled as I feverishly pumped my cock in and out of her vagina. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
I wanted to explode.
Our positioning was not the most optimal.
“Hold on,” she exclaimed, as she squeezed my wrist and gently pushed me backwards. I took a step back, my cock glistening with the juices from her pussy. She stepped out of the car and turned around. She bent forward and leaned into the car, spreading her legs in front of me.
“Get it in the right place,” she remarked, her brown starfish looking right as me. I pushed my manhood back into her steaming hot vagina, my hips slapping against her tight little ass. I reached around her and cupped her breasts in my hands. As I squeezed them, she cried out,
“Fuck me! Fuck me hard, cowboy, fuck me!”
I couldn’t old back and let it fly. As I did, she clinched her fists and her entire body tightened up. My cum filled her vagina and leaked down the inside of her left thigh, even as I leaned forward and racked my fingertips across her back. She let out several very deep and very loud moans, which surprised me not because of the possibility of being heard, but because I knew I had reached inner soul.
I grabbed some tissues from a box in the console and helped her to clean up. We stood and kissed, totally naked, our bodies pressing up against one another, for the longest time. A passing car on the blacktop brought us both back to reality.
We both got dressed and I dropped her off at her house, which was just a few miles away. Neither of us said a word as she stepped out of the car. I watched as she walked the broken cement sidewalk up to her little white fame house with the overgrown weeds in the front yard. I didn’t wait, I had more than a few miles to go. As I passed the city limits sign, I made a mental note, that of I am ever back that way again, to stop at the same store for some refreshments.
I pulled up in front of the store about the same time she walked right in front of my car. I smiled as she looked my way and she smiled back.
I love country gals who wear those real tight-fitting jeans and tight fitting shirts and this girl was no disappointment in this regard. She had an hour glass figure and long brown hair.
I stepped out of my car and into the store. I could see my beautiful angel over by the soda dispensing fountain. I grabbed a cola from the cooler and made my way to the chip aisle. As I did, my country angel stepped on the same aisle.
“Excuse me,” I said as I reached for a bag of chips.
“You’re fine,” she replied, grabbing a bag of chips. Out of instinct, I scanned her left hand for a ring. There wasn’t one.
I stepped to the side and allowed her to pay for her items, giving me another chance to get a good look at her tight little body. I guess she sensed I was sizing her up, because she glanced back at me and winked.
“You’re not from round here are ya?” she asked as the clerk bagged her snacks.
“Nah,” I replied, “Just passing through on my way back to Dallas.”
“I used to live in Dallas,” she replied, stepping to the side, as the clerk rang up my snacks and I slid my debit card into the card reader.
“I like it,” I nonchalantly replied.
“So what do you do?” she inquired.
“I’m a private investigator,” I replied matter-of-factly.
“That so cool,” she replied. “I dated a guy years ago that was a private investigator. Have you ever heard of Paul DeBaggadio?”
I had to admit, I did not know anyone by the name.
The clerk bagged my snack and handed me the bag.
“So do you live around here?” I asked as we walked out the front door of the store.
“Yeah,” she replied, “about a mile down the road.”
“Well, have a good one,” I replied, stepping towards my car. I was at a loss for words. She had a slight twang to her voice and I didn’t want to push the boundary of respect.
“You too sugar,” she replied, as she stepped on to the gravel of the parking lot and towards to two lane roadway.
I pulled up next to her just as she started walking the well beaten path in the grass next to the road. I rolled down my window and pulled up next to her.
“Do you want a ride?” I asked.
It was a pretty warm day. She didn’t hesitate to take me up on my offer, pulling open the passenger side door and slipping into the bucket seat next to me.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Rick,” I replied, as I turned on to the black top.
“I’m Tammy,” she replied. “I really appreciate the ride.”
“Where to?” I asked.
“Anywhere you want,” she replied.
I glanced in her direction.
“I really don’t want to head back to the house,” she said, “I get bored being there all day by myself.”
“You don’t work?” I asked.
“Laid off three months ago,” she replied, taking a sip on her fountain drink.
“Sorry to hear that,” I replied.
So now I had an angel in my car and I was stymied. I didn’t want to be rude and ask her to get out, but at the same time, I wondered where we were heading.
“So is there a park or some place around here where we can sit and chat?” I asked.
“Myers Park,” she said, “Turn right at the next black top.”
I didn’t say anything as I tried to formulate an exit plan. Part of me wanted to just take her home and part of me wanted see what was in those jeans. Just as I turned on the blacktop, I glanced over at my country gal. She smiled.
“Are you married?” she asked.
“Divorced,” I replied.
“What type of idiot woman gave up on you?” she asked. ‘You’re cute.”
My ego was now well stoked. The road sign read “Myers Park, Turn right.”
I turned on to a tree-lined dirt road. My country gal rolled down the window, allowing her long brown hair to blow freely in the passing breeze.
“I love this park,” she said as we rolled down the bumpy, one lane dirt road towards a small rise. As we topped the hill, the land opened up and we pulled into an empty dirt parking lot. A trash barrel sat off to one side, along a row of large oak trees and empty picnic tables.
I pulled up next to one of the picnic tables and parked.
She opened the passenger side door and rested her outstretched legs on the window ledge, as she reclined the seatback. The top button of her very tight button-down shirt was unfastened and I could easily make out the tops of her gorgeous breasts that were neatly tucked into a white lace bra.
“You know what I like about this park?” she asked, looking over at me.
I didn’t have the foggiest idea why she liked the park. It was nothing more than a row of shade trees down an old dirt road.
“No one ever comes over here,” she said, “...’cept lovers.”
Now... now, we were talking.
“So are you a ‘lover'?” I asked.
She looked at me and asked,
“Are you a ‘lover’?”
“I can be,” I replied.
My country girl smiled, as she unsnapped the button on her jeans.
“I need to lose some weight,” she casually replied, pulling her shirt tail from her jeans.
“Nah,” I replied, “I think you look fine.”
She pulled her shirt up, exposing her abdomen.
“I need to lose about ten pounds,” she shot back, patting her bare stomach.
I slipped my arm across the console and on to her stomach.
“No,” I argued back, circling my hand on her flat tummy, “Everything looks and feels fine to me.”
She silently unfastened the buttons on her shirt, allowing it to part, exposing her gorgeous breasts tucked into her 38D cup brassiere.
“My ex said I had a titty-dancer body,” she said, “but I never had the guts to dance.”
“Do you work out?” I asked, as I rested my hand on her abdomen.
“Sometimes,” she replied, shifting in her seat, dropping one of her outstretched legs down from the window perch. The zipper on her jeans opened slightly as we chatted and as she shifted positions. I casually slipped my hand to the lower part of her abdomen to gauge her reaction.
“I usually hit the gym in the mornings,” she replied, not saying anything about my advancing fingers, which now probed the very top of her cotton panties, “but I haven’t worked out in a few days.”
“I know what you mean,” I casually replied, as I slipped my fingers so very gently under the leading edge of her panties. “I used to work out, but with all my traveling, it has become hard to stay on a routine.”
Suddenly, my country girl asked,
“Do you have any protection with you?”
“No,” I replied. “But if it makes any difference to you, I’m clean.”
“Me too,” she replied. “Besides, I don’t normally do this because my boyfriend keeps me pretty happy, but he’s been on an extended business trip and I am missing it.”
I slipped my hand further into her panties, which were soaked in her body juices. She closed her eyes as I slipped a lone finger into her steaming hot pussy. I gently rubbed my fingers around, as she parted her legs to accommodate my exploratory moves. She pulled at the edges of her jeans, peeling them down past her hips. I had hit pay dirt.
“It looks like someone is a bit worked up,” I commented as I teasingly played with her clit.
“That’s not my fault,” she replied, as she pulled her panties down. She was freshly shaved and smelled extremely clean.
“Stay here,” I instructed as I stepped out of the car and made my way around to the passenger side. By the time I made it to her side of the car, she had managed to slip out of her jeans and her underwear. I unzipped my jeans as she stripped out of her button down shirt and unfastened her brassiere, tossing both into my back seat. She had the body of a goddess and her ex was correct- she missed her calling as a dancer. Her nipples were erect and strong, perched on top of her perfectly formed breasts.
I stripped out of my polo shirt and tossed it across the consoles and in to the driver’s seat. I unfastened my belt. She turned and faced me, pulling her hair back over her left shoulder.
“Let me,” she said, reaching out to feel my manhood through the fabric of my jeans.
She slowly lowered the zipper on my jeans as she looked up at me to gauge my reaction. My manhood strained against the cotton of my bikini briefs, as she pulled my blue jeans down my thighs. I stepped out of my jeans, even as my country gal squeezed my manhood though the fabric of my underwear. She pulled at the sides of my briefs and pulled them down, allowing my manhood to arch upwards. Her eyes widened as she saw the size of my tool.
“Oh wow!” she exclaimed as she wrapped her fingers around the thickness of my elongated shaft. She leaned forward and planted a light kiss on the very tip-end of my circumcised cock. She used her tongue to clean the pre-cum that had leaked from the slit at the end of my tool.
She looked up at me and smiled.
“Can I?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied. It was a silly question, but one I admired because of her thoughtfulness.
She silently slipped my manhood into her oral cavity. Oh my gawd! I thought for sure I would explode right then and there. She cupped my balls in her hands and massaged them, as she worked her wicked tongue and mouth over my manhood. I had to stop her.
I gently pushed her back against the console that separated the front seats. She rested one leg on the window sill and the other I held in my hand, spreading them apart in front of me. I pushed the head of my manhood up to her vagina and gently worked it back and forth over her clit and then the folds of her vagina.
“Fuck me,” she pleaded. “Put it in me and fuck me!”
I pushed my manhood into her vagina. Even though she was wet, it was a tight fit. She grimaced as I pushed my pelvis against hers. She closed her eyes and then opened them wide as my pelvis crashed into hers. She gabbed at my wrist that was holding on to her leg and pleaded,
“Harder! Harder, HARDER!”
She trembled as I feverishly pumped my cock in and out of her vagina. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
I wanted to explode.
Our positioning was not the most optimal.
“Hold on,” she exclaimed, as she squeezed my wrist and gently pushed me backwards. I took a step back, my cock glistening with the juices from her pussy. She stepped out of the car and turned around. She bent forward and leaned into the car, spreading her legs in front of me.
“Get it in the right place,” she remarked, her brown starfish looking right as me. I pushed my manhood back into her steaming hot vagina, my hips slapping against her tight little ass. I reached around her and cupped her breasts in my hands. As I squeezed them, she cried out,
“Fuck me! Fuck me hard, cowboy, fuck me!”
I couldn’t old back and let it fly. As I did, she clinched her fists and her entire body tightened up. My cum filled her vagina and leaked down the inside of her left thigh, even as I leaned forward and racked my fingertips across her back. She let out several very deep and very loud moans, which surprised me not because of the possibility of being heard, but because I knew I had reached inner soul.
I grabbed some tissues from a box in the console and helped her to clean up. We stood and kissed, totally naked, our bodies pressing up against one another, for the longest time. A passing car on the blacktop brought us both back to reality.
We both got dressed and I dropped her off at her house, which was just a few miles away. Neither of us said a word as she stepped out of the car. I watched as she walked the broken cement sidewalk up to her little white fame house with the overgrown weeds in the front yard. I didn’t wait, I had more than a few miles to go. As I passed the city limits sign, I made a mental note, that of I am ever back that way again, to stop at the same store for some refreshments.
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