She was what I call a Gentleman Farmer. It was not exactly a working farm and it didn’t make any money but she had chickens, pigs, a couple of horse..., and a cow for milk. There were a couple of dogs too. She had a vegetable garden, a flower garden, a hayfield, and a cornfield. Her farm was well cared for with nicely painted buildings, fenced in fields, and it looked like it should be in a magazine.A very nice looking woman came out of the house to greet us. She introduced herself to me as Daisy. There was no sign of a swimsuit. Her back was flawless, and she had a beautiful, even tan. As I stood there studying the details of her body, a part of my brain - the part that knew I needed to keep moving - lost a lot of influence as my hormones took over. I found myself stepping closer to her and stopped before I could reach her.She never jumped or acted as if there was a problem. She simply turned and smiled up at me. She pulled her goggles off in one practiced motion, and asked, “Care for a. More

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