This was supposed to be a picnic.

We set out lightly - with only a blanket, a jar of honey, and the thought that we might be able to relax together for once. This season, he has been constantly on the road. I have been busy running our small farm. I love our land, and I began to get tired of this constant busyness. I want to reconnect with him, our home, and our land.

When a large open space appeared around us and the sunlight shone directly on my dress, Karl stopped walking.

Before I even turned around, I sensed that he was staring at my back.

At first, he said nothing - he just grabbed the hem of my skirt and pulled it hard. With a gentle pull, the thin cotton fabric floated onto my bottom. I wasn't wearing underwear today. The weather was very hot and a bit humid, and since we passed the beehive, my body had already become soaked.

Then I heard: His voice was deep and resonant.

"You wore this dress just to drive me crazy."

I looked back. "I wore this dress just to make you tear it off."

He did exactly that. Right behind him.

The sound of fabric tearing was accompanied by the buzzing of nearby bees. I didn't care. He yanked the dress off abruptly, exposing my breasts, which were plump and rosy, eager to be noticed. He completely removed the dress, and I stood barefoot on the grass, bathed in the sunlight, breathing rapidly, while he stared at me as if he were extremely hungry. I turned to face him.

"Damn it, honey," he roared, "these tits..."

He knelt down on the ground, as if my nipples were sacred objects. His mouth first found one nipple, then the other. His greedy tongue extended out, his teeth gently scraping and sucking on my nipples, until I sobbed. My fingers clung to his hair, I arched my back, and pressed my chest against his face.

"Dad, they are yours," I gasped and said in a low voice. "Use them. I hope you will use them."

He roared and stood up, his penis already quite thick inside his jeans.

"Kneel down," he said, and at the same time had already unbuckled his seat belt.

"Yes, Dad."

I immediately crouched down, knelt on the grass, pushed my breasts forward, and prepared my body.

He released his penis, allowing it to spring back, hard and rosy, already secreting semen for me. He unscrewed the lid of our honey jar and, without any warning, tipped it forward - the thick golden stream of honey rushed straight into my chest.

I gasped for breath. The honey flowed over my nipples, sliding down the slope of my breasts and dripping onto my stomach.

"Damn it, look at this," he moaned, clutching his penis tightly. "You're the stickiest thing I've ever seen."

"Let me be even more confused," I pleaded. "Fuck my tits, Carl. Shoot it all over me."

He came close to me, kneeling beside me on his knees, and pushed his penis deep into my chest cavity. Without his command, I pressed them together, the moist skin touching the moist skin, and the nectar dripped onto my lower abdomen.

"That's it," he roared. "Damn it, look at you. Look at those filthy tits of yours... They're just too perfect. Do you feel it?"

"I feel everything," I moaned, licking the honey from my lips. "I feel how strong you are for me, Dad. I feel how soaked I am. Keep touching my breasts, Dad. Use me."

He began to thrust vigorously. His penis entered my breast, the head protruding near my chin. With each thrust, it slapped my lower jaw. My chest was in a mess - honeydew accumulated at the bottom, staining my collarbone and dripping down along the ribs. He withdrew his penis, merely slapping the upper part of my breast, using it to glide the honeydew over my breast.

He roared, "Open your mouth."

I did as he said. He timed it perfectly. The next time he thrust hard, his penis slid directly over the edge of my lips. I sucked hard, moaning around him, then he backed off, using his penis, coated with honey and saliva, to rub against my cheek, and continued to fondle my breasts.

"Do you like being used like this?" He spat on my face, one hand grasping my hair, and the other hand firmly holding his penis, pushing it deeper into my sticky navel. "Do you like your breasts being made wet and used like a sex toy?"

"I like it," I gasped, honey dripping onto my chin, struggling to breathe. "Make love to me forcefully. Make you cum on my chest, my face, my mouth - don't stop."

He picked up the jar again and poured more liquid onto the top of my breast. The liquid flowed down like molasses - due to the sunlight, it had become thicker now, almost too much, almost drowning me.

I really like it.

"Damn it, look at you," he repeated, his voice hoarse. "That gooey little slut. Your breasts are terrible. Those cleavage lines are just there to ruin you."

He is now thrusting faster now, and each time he thrusts, the penis moves more smoothly. The impact of the skin touching each other makes me think it might wake up the bees. I half-close my eyes and look at him, my mouth open and tongue sticking out, waiting for the moment when his golden flesh and white flesh will blend together.

"Do you want it?" he snarled at the edge.

"Cover me."

"Where?"

"My chest. My face. Everywhere."

He lost it.

He gave another sudden push, pulled out, and violently thrust on my breast - the first wave of semen hit my labia. The second wave hit my cheek and flowed into the honey-filled crevice between my breasts. More semen hit my neck, hot, thick, and heavy. I squeezed my breast even harder, wrapped it, squeezed it, and let it flow down my abdomen. His semen is usually thicker than this, but this batch was very thin, and it was perfect for mixing with honey!

He moaned, as if he was trying to release everything inside him - perhaps he really was.

But I was smiling, licking my lips, fingers and nipples, as if I had never tasted anything sweeter than this.

I caught it with my fingers - Carl's semen mixed with honey, thick and warm, sweet and salty, dripping from my swollen breasts, as if it belonged there. Without hesitation, I brought it to my lips and slowly licked it, savoring every messy flavor. The honey was thick, smooth and golden, his semen penetrating it, carrying that unique raw flavor I craved. It was like licking the aftertaste of desire. I would be willing to consume it a thousand times - my favorite cocktail, directly poured onto my skin. As I swallowed, I moaned and reached out for more, greedily wanting this unique blend that only we could concoct.

"Damn it, Dad," I gasped, my sticky fingers sliding back to my lips, "This is even better than dessert."

"Whenever you speak, I'll shoot more semen onto you, baby," Carl said. "Let me lick your damn vagina until I get hard again."

I lay down, with my legs spread out on the grass, my buttocks raised towards him. The honey still shone brightly on my chest and abdomen, and the thick liquid flowed over my ribs. My thighs were covered with honey and the slippery liquid. The heat of the sun made everything feel as if it had melted.

"Do you want it?" I said, my voice beginning to tremble. "Come and have your dessert, Dad. Eat me, like you would if you hadn't drunk water for several days. My little cavity is the only liquid around you."

He didn't even respond. He just grabbed the jar with one hand, and with the other hand, he parted my thighs, then poured it inside. A thick layer of honey directly dripped onto my swollen vulva, covering my labia, flowing over my clitoris, and finally pooling on the grass beneath me.

This is too obscene.

As soon as it touched me, I let out a groan. Karl lay between my legs, as if he were extremely hungry. He buried his face in my body, his tongue licking each drop gently and slowly. Through the folds, he licked and tasted the honey and my scent, moaning into my small opening, as if the taste was unbearable.

"Damn it, Cindy," he gasped against me, "Your scent is like heaven."

I pounded the grass beside me with my fists, lifted my hips, pressed my face against his, rubbed my mouth against his, feeling each gentle touch of his tongue, each soft growl, feeling the vibrations of his thrusting into my clitoris. I was completely drenched - dripping wet - I knew he wasn't licking me just for me. He was chasing after the stench of our filth. Honey. His semen and our honey still coated my chest. My skin was hot and red, and -

"Use your tongue," I pleaded. "Let me come, Carl. I want your face to drench my little hole."

Just by moaning like this, his penis began to twitch. His tongue pressed down harder, slowly circling around my clitoris, then deeply penetrating my vagina, licking me clean. I let out a loud cry, my legs trembling, rubbing against his mouth, feeling everything rising and swelling.

"Oh my god, don't stop, don't stop, I want to - damn!"

He reached out and grabbed my breasts, which were still dripping with our homemade cocktail. He squeezed them forcefully while using his mouth to tightly bite my vagina. That sensation - the pressure, the heat, the filth - tore through my body like fire.

I shoot very powerfully.

The honey was so thick that it could soak his face. The mixture of honey and slush was constantly on his tongue, and he kept licking it without stopping or even slowing down. He licked everything clean, and his tongue became even more insatiable, staining his beard, his chest, and me. I trembled all over, my face turned red, and I was covered in a sticky mess - longing for more.

"Look at you," he said, pulling back his body and lowering his head to stare at my battered and broken form. "Sweet little slut, your body is soaked with honey, flowing into my mouth."

Where is his penis? It's become hard again!