Still thinking of his daughter's mouth and cunt and ass, Jake pumped his prick off to the dregs. Spurt after spurt ripped out and then, as the pressure was relieved, the last of his fuck-juice came out in a mere trickle, running down his prick and pooling up on the web between his thumb and forefinger.

Jake kept frigging his prick until he was sure that he had pumped out every drop. His fist slowed, then halted, clutching his cock at the roots. He staggered, weak-legged and spent.

His balls slowly subsided and his cock turned to rubber. But it didn't go completely soft. Jake was a potent man and one handjob wasn't enough to completely diminish his desire – especially not when he had been thinking about his daughter.

He looked down at the ground and smiled wryly. His creamy cum was splattered all over the place. He shook his semi-hard prick and a few drops of slime sprayed from his cockhead. He took out his handkerchief and carefully wiped the remaining scum from his prickshaft, not wanting any incriminating evidence lingering on his cock for his wife to find. Then he folded his cock back into his fly. Still not really limp, the fat prick resisted, and he grimaced as he jammed it forcibly back into his trousers and zippered them up. He stared down. A definite bulge was still evident in his groin, but it was not nearly as huge and prominent as it had been before he'd unloaded his balls and it wasn't throbbing and pulsating so noticeably. He guessed that he could get back to the house without attracting the attention of the hired hand – back to the house where his ever-ready wife was waiting.