I had been sent to go and do a small article on a working farm for young travelers and there were a lot of mixed reports regarding the exploitation of young students but mostly it was shrouded in mystery and great secrecy, which was my drawing card for this specific job. I traveled across the countryside to a remote part of the mountainous regions where vineyards and orchards decorated the valleys and landscapes with fields of green, bulging with grapes and apples and plums, little lakes and villages scattered in all corners. I was heading to the largest village, which was right in the middle of all these farmlands and I had to then work my way into the right circles in order to get a personal invitation for the Apple Farm. I settled into a cosy little bed and breakfast, run by the local pub owner and to my delight, served the countries best pie and chips, accompanied by real Jamaican Rum and Cola. I finished my meal at the bar, alongside Maggie, the local yoga instructor and Barney, a farmhand from one of the local farms. Maggie told the most amazing stories about the region, having grown up here as the daughter of a family owned farming business. The stories of the young girls that came here seeking adventure and needing travel money, getting caught up in a web of deception and getting lost in the mountains forever, never to be seen or heard from again. The apple pickers became the world renown for their youthful innocence and beauty depicted in erotic photos of young naked teens and students, wearing very little and picking fruits and literally living in a continuous orgy of ripe fruit, scented lavender fields and naked flesh in the golden sunlight with no care for the outside world. Many old tales spoke of the owner of the family farm, being a clever hypnotist and trickster, used his guiles on the unsuspecting travellers, drawn in by the mystery and promise of the taste of the ever -elusive forbidden fruits. By the end of the night, I had met basically everyone there was to meet in the village and knew that it was a matter of time before I get my invitation after my motives were established.
I awoke the next morning just before the sun came up, very unusual for me, but lay in my warm bed and watched the darkness swirl with the mist and grey of the morning to make way for the yawning sun. It was cold and I felt a breeze waft over me from the slightly open window, my skin crawled and I shivered deeper into my nest. I then felt like someone was in the room or was watching me from outside the frosted window. I lay back and closed my eyes, reminding myself that this was exactly the reason I have never been an early riser, creepy and cold things always happen just before dawn. I then felt something on the bed, not heavy or even threatening, more gentle and apprehensive. I opened my eyes but could not see anything there, only streaks of burned orange and red bleeding slowly into the skies of black and grey. I was dozing off, between here and there and felt my groin area begin to prickle. My belly fluttered and my legs opened involuntarily just a little, causing blood flow to move into my inner thighs and smooth lips. I lay suspended now in a dream state, feeling strong hands stroking and moving up towards my swollen and bursting pussy lips with very slow precision. Another hand held my pelvic area down with gentle pressure as I felt a finger burn its way into me with ease and an eruption of honey down my butt and my thighs. I felt so safe and warm, like I was floating on air and being seduced by one of my best wet dreams yet. I felt a weight on my body, but not pushing down on me, more like hovering just above me and an electric charge seemed to crackle between us, his giant penis lingering at my lips and opening in a tortuous taste of something so dark and so sweet, it knew it would engulf me if I begged for it. The head glided in just enough to open me up hungrily for the onslaught, but stopped there, holding back and waiting for something more.
I woke up with my body spasming into subconscious and empty orgasms that only left me feeling unsatisfied and hungrier than ever for cock. This early morning shit has to stop, I showered and then made my way into the village market and hopefully something exciting and dangerous that would lead to a giant cocks and wet pussy and a night of fucking that wicked wet dream out of my aroused body and mind. The market was filled with every fruit and every exotic aroma mixed with the sounds of laughter, haggling and families on their way home. I could not get enough but had to eventually end my shopping spree when my baskets and bags were overflowing and making it difficult to navigate through the shops and people. ‘Please, let me help you’ I looked up to see a man with green eyes and dark skin in front of me, helping to pick up the fallen fruit from my basket. ‘Too much to taste, too little time’ He had a twinkle in his eyes and smile tugging at the corners of his full lips. ‘Juicy, aren’t they?’ Oh my God, was he referring to his lips or the ripe plum he was holding up to me? ‘Thank you for your help, I am sure they are very…um…juicy’ Cat got my tongue again? I turned to leave and felt his eyes on my back as I walked away down the pathway towards my guest house. I felt my skin crawl again but with a sense of anticipation and inevitability. My dress flared up with a gust of wind at my back, my reaction was however not quick enough and I felt my exposed naked butt cheeks open to my watcher’s eyes behind me with a cool breeze and the thrill of the unexpected. I continued without hesitation or missing a step but as I entered my room, all I heard was the beating of my heart in my ears and the blood pumping through me like fire.
My morning was again taken by pre-dawn dreams of unseeing hands and bodies bringing me to the edge of pleasure and torment until I awaken in a film of sweat under layers of warmth. I opened my eyes to see my room filled with baskets of fruit and vases of blood red roses and the scent from the blooms mixed with the voluptuous fruits made me feel a little light headed. I sat up and there was a note next to my bed, I opened the envelope and my invitation slid out with a short note: “To have your hands pick our apples would be the greatest honour, even just for a few stolen moments, for the apples you seek and pluck will hold your sweet nectar in its flesh for the one who dares eat of it” A little too sweet of an intro but ever so romantic and after the dreams I have been having, a step closer to my much needed happy ending. I set off to the Apple Farm, or more fondly known by the locals as The Forbidden Farm on the traditional horse and cart mode of transport along the rickety bridges and roads up the mountain pass to a tiny village and farm nestled between the edge of the world and the clouds. It took us a few hours but the view and comforting feel of the wagon seemed to make the journey as magical as the mystery awaiting me at the farm. Soon, I was inside the walls of the most beautiful Farm I had ever seen, pretty as a picture and laced with orchards of Apple trees hanging with ripening fruit in shades of Green, Pink and Red and the smell of apples hung richly in the air. I was met by a group of teens, no older than about 17 years and they were your typical hippie looking travellers, very beautiful and very philosophical but their chatter and excitement was intoxicating and pretty soon it felt like I had arrived at a music festival happening between fruit production and fire dancing. This area was where the students lived, they were given basic accommodation but had to cook and clean for themselves and also entertain themselves during off picking season. I then got taken through to the other buildings and soon realized I was about to meet my host. The farm then faded below as the estate extended to the tip of a mountain, and it was on that tip that an ancient looking castle was built and stood watch over a farm run by an old family for many hundreds of years. The apples from this farm, are the most sought out apples in the world for the making of traditional Cider’s or Juices. They were known for their natural sweetness, overly juicy flesh and organic fragrances soaked up from the earth, sun and skin of the pickers. The apple pickers were of the world’s most beautiful women only, virgin skin touching the virgin apples and then washed and packed for the next stage of the production. The orchards are lined with rows of ladders and swings and walkways created especially around the trees and to make it easier for the girls to pick the fruits without bruising the apples, or themselves. Girls picked the fruit for two weeks and could only pick the fruit at a certain time of the day, at sunrise and at sunset. They wore nothing but aprons and had baskets at their disposal to pick and gently place the fruit into with as much care as possible. This happened every few months and the process thereafter involved splitting the fruit into fruit sales, juicing or cider fruit and packing and exporting. I was however very keen on getting to watch the virgins picking and hopefully get to take a few photos of their approval for my article. I heard Armant, tell this story with a gentle passion that made it sound like a song and it spoke of years of dedication and devotion to the purity of Mother Natures fruits. The girls then either stayed on or left at their own will.
I then spent the next week days with the girls during their picking time and got to take the most sensual and erotic photos of budding beauties glowing in the fading or rising light and humming songs that sound like angels and with such comfortable innocence, their faces shone brightly at the camera and at each other. Two girls took an instantly liking to me and they posed the sweetest little poses for me, bending forward and showing me their delicately covered budding blooms and their naughtiest little nipples at every opportunity. Their names were Tessa and Lily and they were around 16 or 17 and girly enough to blush when caught out but woman enough to know the effect. Tessa placed a finger on her blushing lips and another finger on her blushing pussy lips and the facial expression was priceless. Lily had a pussy that resembled a rose bud and her crossed legged, but open enough to see pose with her bright pink enlarged nipples pushing against her white cotton apron. The number of apples they picked was amazing considering their little photo shoot fantasy play out with me in between. A few stolen kisses between the two and many photos later, had me so damn horny I could barely walk straight. That night, sleep found me instantly but abandoned me again in the early hours of the cold morning, just before dawn. My master had come to claim my body in the wettest of dreams. I was hovering with him in mid-air, his cock lingering once again, this time dripping with lust and hunger and bulging with a sense of urgency. I screamed ‘Give it to me, please, I beg of you!’ I writhed and shivered with uncontrollable forces taking my body to a point of heightened senses and lust. ‘I need to feel you deep inside of me, I need to come, I need…’ The cock jolted and pushed through my parted lips, driving deeper with each second and then rhythmically moving in and out of my body like a giant force of nature. My skin tingled, my sense of smell and taste and sound heightened to hear the blood rushing through both of us. His hand then found my butt cheeks and he gently split my ass apart and thrust his cock head just inside my ass. It lingered there until I shook and begged, then it pulled out and found my pussy again, this time, pushing further than it ever pushed. His finger slid into my ass and his lips found my neck. He held me tight as he pumped his cock with ferocious force and appetite, his finger gently pushing inside my ass and then he shot his load of hot cum inside of me, which triggered my multiple orgasm that left me broken and in pieces for my master to torment and consume until the rays of the sun finally pulled me back to my bed and to my throbbing pussy and ass as I awoke to my final and jolting orgasm. I felt between my legs, a huge wet spot still growing with warm and sticky cum dripping out of my swollen pussy. What the fuck? How wet was this dream? I sat up and swung my jelly legs over and just sat there, naked and with a feeling of uncertainty mixed with a lingering memory of desire and cock.
The picking season ended and the entire farm then threw the biggest Feast they could in honour of the pickers, the harvest and the forthcoming seasons. Enormous fires, tables of food and barrels of Cider were scattered for all to enjoy and everyone was celebrating in their own ways. The virgins that left, were saying good bye but the majority of them decided to stay and Tessa and Lily ceremoniously offered themselves to me and their master for their first time and their first orgy, to the delight and cheer of the crowds. The master was my juicy lips that helped me pick up my fruit in the village, so I was about to get my virgins with my farm hand with eyes like the devil on a farm that is rumoured to hypnotise you and keep you enslaved to a life of lust, music, sex, play and working with apples as long as you want, sounded like the perfect get away to me. My night and for a change, early morning was filled with the smell of sex and candy, with Tessa and Lily wrapped around each other against my ribs and thighs, and my host attached to the other side of me. The girls had their virginity removed with gentle, slow and delicate tongues, light fingers and then with cock pushing back their childhood and opening the doors to womanhood and their cries of delight echoed the halls until the break of dawn. I awoke with streams of light shining across the faces of my bed mates, their naked bodies inter-tangled with mine, soft curves and hair mixed with their sweat and honey tasted for the first time. I lay back, closed my eyes and fell back into my coma of body parts, ripe fruit and mountain air. Freshly fucked in a valley of fresh and ripe fruit, hungry for the next course on the menu.
Originally Posted on Sexy4Me