
After my husband has passed away, I feel my carnal desires building rapidly every single day. At night, I yearn for someone to break and conquer me roughly.
I'm at the age when I crave physical intimacy the most. Coupled with the weird ailment, I find myself constantly tormented by my urges all the time.
Having no other choice left, I can only turn to the village doctor to treat my embarrassingly weird condition. But little do I know that he'll…
Whenever the night fell deep and quiet, the familiar craving would flare up within me. It was an unbearable itch, like countless snakes writhing under my skin, always leaving me starving for more.
Ever since my husband, Damon Neal, died in an accident, my body had been deprived of his touch and had grown increasingly insatiable by the day. I had exhausted every makeshift remedy at home, but it was never enough.
I was at my prime age, where my needs ruled me so much that they painfully yet sweetly intruded on my daily life.
One day, I went into the field to harvest some corn. The moment I stepped among the rows of corn, it felt as if I was possessed. My vision blurred, and a sudden heat surged through my veins.
I knew that my sickness was back.
In a panic, I tugged down my pants and instinctively pressed myself against a cornstalk, though it felt too thin to satisfy my needs. But since there wasn't anything else that could help, I had to make do.
I could feel myself turning into someone I barely recognized as I slowly lost myself in the itching heat. As desire took over, only my ragged, low-pitched moans were heard in the cornfield.
I rocked myself hard as the action sent jolts of pleasure straight to my heart and eased the core of my hunger just a little.
Tears of lust slipped out from the corner of my eyes, driven by the torment of desire. My eyes were red-rimmed as I desperately clung to the thick stalks.
Doing this out in the open furled a secret thrill. For a moment, it felt like the world around me vanished, while I was alone and recklessly letting go of everything I had been holding back.
Afterward, I lay exhausted among the corns with countless broken stalks crushed beneath me. That was when I heard a man's sharp intake of breath and the sound of a zipper sliding down.
While lost in the heat earlier, I had sensed a pair of burning eyes watching me the whole time, but I hadn't been able to stop.
Now, I peered through the thinning leaves and saw a pair of a man's long, pale hands moving steadily with a rhythmic intensity. That scene made me swallow hard—I had never seen such formidable manhood, enough to put the late Damon to shame.
Mesmerized, I watched and started imagining how satisfying it would feel inside me. Only the two of us were in the cornfield, which meant that he must have seen every shameful, unrestrained move I had made.
At that thought, my body started responding and was once again overwhelmed with heat. I couldn't help but feel embarrassed that at my age, I was still capable of stirring someone on like this.
When I stood up to get a better look at his face, he fled in a hurry.
I couldn't help feeling a pang of regret, knowing that if we had taken things further, he would have torn through my defenses and left me shattered in the best way possible.
I snapped off a few ears of corn and headed home. As I turned to leave, I caught sight of the damp earth beneath me, and my ears burned a deep, flushed red.