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  The living and dining rooms were adults vacation no better, dusty old drapes that blocked adults vacation the sun, a sofa that sagged, old threadbare carpets. But the crowning touch was the "master bedroom", an old double bed covered by a faded quilt, a few beat up dressers and a rocking chair. It was "American Gothic" come to life and worse adults vacation than any nightmare adults vacation that she could ever dream. Well there was still his money she thought, still all that adults vacation beautiful green adults vacation stuff. She hadn planned on adults vacation him being such a skin flint, getting money from Cleve was like pulling teeth. Every month he doled out her meager allowance and if she had hopes of fancy clothes and parties they were quickly dashed.  
 
 
The worst though was the nights; for an old man Cleve was a horny bastard and he expected his sex. Sam endured the quick poke between the covers with gritted teeth and thanked her lucky adults vacation stars when he rolled over to snore the night away. As time passed Sam felt herself withering and dying on the vine, the dust, the house, and Cleve were taking adults vacation its toll. Sam also realized her new husband had a dark side too, he expected the place clean, his meals cooked and served on time and Sam herself to be the perfect farm wife.
 
   
   
  She tried to cook passable meals on the relic adults vacation in the kitchen, sad hope as her cakes made great frisbees and her biscuits could easily break a tooth. Sweeping the floors were an adventure in themself as the house looked like adults vacation a miniature dust storm until the neighbors wife showed her how to wrap the broom in a wet towel. Then there was wash day with the old wringer washer, Sam was terrified of it, the rolling wheels just looking to grab her hand.  
   
 
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She had started washing adults vacation her lingerie by hand, that monster would make mincemeat out of her thongs. Today hanging adults vacation Cleves old jeans and shirts on the line her eyes had kept wandering to the side of the barn where Cleves only farmhand Timmy was chopping wood. As Sam watched he pulled off his soaking wet t-shirt and mopped his brow, the adults vacation very action making his adults vacation biceps bulge.
 
  He bent over to pick up the wood and Sam was afforded a glimpse of adults vacation his tight ass, following adults vacation his every move as he carried it to the wood adults vacation pile adults vacation. Back in the house Sam looked over the dreary old place, she should wash the windows where the goddamned dogs had left muddy footprints but to hell with it. It was too fucking hot, and she was too disheartened to do anything. Cleve wasn here to bitch, he was at a Grange Convention in Wichita and wouldn be back till tomorrow.
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