It's hot. I've been weeding the same square of earth for the last two hours, barely making progress, and I swear the sun has started to boil my brain. I sat back on my heels and swiped the back of my hand over my sweat-stained forehead and then I heard him. Working hard? He tossed us two ice-cold bottled lemonades he'd grabbed from the tractor and I snagged mine from the air. I held it up to my neck to cool my blazing skin.
Her Story: I'm a Farm Girl
Her Story: I'm a Farm Girl | Her Campus
At 6am my alarm goes off. It is early for a Saturday but it has become routine for me. Once I feel awake enough, I put my feet on the freezing cold floor and shiver, wishing my mom would spark up the wood stove that went out overnight. I shiver again as I put on my fleece leggings and under armor top, jeans, wool socks, boots, sweatshirt, and finally my heavy waterproof work jacket.
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This story from Gordon has been read 1 2 4 4 8 times. Working on a farm Written by Gordon , on , genre zoophilia I'm Gordon 34 drifter, I get by doing odd jobs here and there and then moving on. I got work on a orange farm picking than moved to the next town to pick lemons. While on the lemon farm, I saw the woman on the next farm being fucked by her dog, I was only able to see her because I was up high on a trestle picking the top fruit.