"This is the way the farmer goes," Merilee crooned, "plowing all the way."
Sam agreed. She planted the idea in his head and his fingers deep inside her. Lay back and rested. Admired the Big Little One way down the valley between her peaked breasts.
"You're going home."
Muffled yes, his big Samson head nearly lost between her symmetrical thighs.
"And there is nothing to be afraid of." she said. And home to go to, she thought.
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Muffled no.
Down below on the beach the eyebrows or commas were gone, the two dogs had gone elsewhere to frolic.