The sun was high and hot over the farm, turning the fields into a golden haze. Everyone was busy. The air was thick with the smell of dry grass, dust, and hard work. Sarah and the other workers were further down the field, but Greg was taking a break near the old barn. He was sitting on a pile of yellow straw, leaning back against a wooden post.
Greg was wearing loose, baggy cotton shorts. They were old and thin, almost like boxers. He sat with his legs spread wide, trying to catch a breeze. He didn't realize that the wide leg of his shorts was gaping open. Every time he shifted, his heavy, thick length was visible, hanging carelessly in the shadows of the fabric.
Vicky was working nearby, packing straw into bundles. Every time she bent over, she had a perfect view. She could see him fla
