Tuesday night we f****d long into the early hours. My uncle had told us we’d probably finish up on Thursday and so everyone could go straight home when the last sheep had been shorn. And while I was glad there would be an end to the hard work, I was going to miss Tank.
On Wednesday night, after dinner, Tank and I went back to our room and went straight to bed. For a while we just held each other and kissed, but then Tank, who’d brought some lube with him, smeared his c**k with the slippery gel and eased himself into me one last time. But there was no hurry to c*m. We lay side by side, his hips gently thrusting into me as we talked.
“You’re quiet tonight,” he said.
“I know,” I replied, not really wanting a conversation, not if it was going to destroy the intimacy of the moment. “I’m not
