She sighs and rolls back her head, easing her tired neck muscles, the movement pulling her blouse tighter across her firm full tits. She shakes her long jet black hair loose down her back and flicks it back so it cascades down her spine.

She studies herself in the full-length mirror for a few minutes, staring at her hazel brown eyes and long lashes, running a hand down her tight jeans, over her slender hips, tight ass and flat stomach. She slips a hand over her tit, enjoying the feel of the coarse fabric of her blouse and the tightness of her bra, the nipple rising as her fingers linger.

She laughs at herself, feeling a pleasant warm itch building in her pussy and her clit as she continues to stroke her tit. If she weren't so tired, she'd be in the shower by now, letting the water slip over her body like an eager lover, holding the shower head between her legs to try to satisfy her growing need for her own body.

But not tonight. Tonight was for sleeping, no matter how horny she felt. She was just too tired to do anything else. Inheriting a farm seemed like a great idea at the time, but it was so much work! And there were no men around to slake her lust; all the farmhands left before dusk, and all of them were old men anyway, all happily married. She was alone all night. Every night.