When I was in my early twenties, I got a job trimming weed up in Northern California.

I had just broken up with my long — term girlfriend and needed to get away from Sacramento for a while. I had always been an athlete and I wasn’t a huge pot smoker myself, but my brother’s friend offered me the job knowing I wanted to get out of town and away from my ex. Trimming paid well and it was mindless. We all worked and lived on the farm, and we’d spend all day shacked up with more bud than you could imagine, blasting classic rock as we carefully prepared the harvested weed.

I liked everyone I trimmed with, but I was definitely the odd man out. There were six of us: four guys, two girls. Two of the guys were best friends. One of the girls came there with her boyfriend and the two of them were glued to one another, existing in their own little stoner love bubble. The other girl was a punk rock chick from Los Angeles named Tiny. The name suited her. She barely reached my shoulders, had freckles across her pierced nose, and a punk haircut (long in front, buzzed elsewhere). She wore the same ratty jean vest and motorcycle boots every day.

Tiny was quiet and rarely talked to any of us unless she needed something. Though she was the opposite of any girl I would normally go after, I did notice she had an undeniably gorgeous face with huge cartoonish eyes and big lips. She looked like a fucked — up Disney princess in street — rat clothing.

One morning, I came in and found Tiny sitting with her back to the entrance, her headphones filling the room with secondhand noise. As I walked around to sit across from her at the table, I noticed she had left her beat — up vest behind and was wearing a tank top. Her tits were huge. Natural, luscious, glistening with dewy sweat, and barely contained by her shirt. I must have been gaping at her like a moron, because she finally looked up, ripped off her headphones, and said, “What’s your problem, John?”

I jumped off planet Tiny’s Glorious Tits and met her eyes. “I just never noticed that horse tattoo on your shoulder before,” I said. “It’s really cool.” I figured I sounded like a douche, but I had to say something.

She turned to inspect her right shoulder and smiled for the first time in weeks. “One of my friends did this for me a few years ago,” she said. “He’s such a good artist. I don’t regret this one like I do with most of my other shitty tattoos.”

For the first time, Tiny and I actually talked. She was up here trimming because she had lost both her band and her boyfriend within the same week. She played bass for her ex’s band but when she dumped him, he kicked her out and replaced her with one of his friends. She was still bitter, but it seemed like Tiny was perpetually pissed off. She was like this tightly wound ball of angst. It was shockingly hot.

“I don’t even give a shit about weed,” she said, brushing off the sticky bud dust that had fallen onto her lap. “Do you? All these kids are just stoners. They are so dumb and lazy, you could pay them in product.”

“Yeah, I don’t care about weed either,” I said. It started to occur to me that none of the other trimmers had showed up yet. Where was everyone?

Tiny pulled out a flask from her purse and took a swig before extending it to me. “Whiskey?” she asked, then she pulled it back towards her beautiful tits. “Or are you going to get all judgmental?”

“Never,” I said. I grabbed the flask and took a swig.

“The more liquor I got in me, the more I wanted to titty — fuck that amazing rack.”

As if on cue, the PDA couple came in, Tiny put her headphones back on, and I headed to a table to start trimming. But that night, as I was sprawled out on my bed contemplating if I should watch RedTube or Netflix, I heard a knock at my door.

“It’s Tiny,” she whispered from behind the door. “Come out.”

She was standing there with a bottle of Jim Beam, wearing the same tank top. Had her tits grown in the last eight hours? Jesus Christ, they were fantastic.

“I’m bored,” she said, rolling her doe eyes. “Wanna get drunk?”

We walked out into the fields, passing the bottle back and forth, until we found a secluded spot. By then I was starting to feel the booze. I hadn’t made a move on a random chick in so long. But the more liquor I got in me, the more I wanted to titty — fuck that amazing rack.

I was pretty buzzed and lost in thought when she suddenly straddled me. She dug her heels into the ground and pushed her boobs so close to my face I could taste them. She pulled her shirt off over her head and I went for it. I sucked on her perfect, hard nipples, moving back and forth between the two, while grabbing her plump, writhing ass. Fucking heaven.

As I sucked her tits, she reached down to take a sip of bourbon, pulled my chin up toward her face and kissed me, spilling the liquid between our mouths. It dribbled down her naked chest. We kissed so hard my jaw felt detached. Tiny got off my lap and commanded I stand up. She unzipped my jeans, pulled out my cock, and poured more booze all over her tits.

Positioning her small body as fast as I could, I glided my dick between her huge, wet tits as she squeezed them together. I slowly thrusted and she tried to lick my throbbing head every time it got anywhere near her chin. She let out this maniacal giggle that made my boner swell to impossible girth. Who the fuck wa this dirty little unicorn?

I pulled her up, ripped off her jeans and underwear, and picked her up as she wrapped her legs around me. I could feel her wet pussy on my stomach and shoved my cock inside her. We went at it hard, sweating and fucking violently like we were trying to murder one another. Tiny bit my arms and squealed with pleasure. “Your dick is so fucking big,” she moaned. “Turn me around and fuck me in the ass.”

My ex — girlfriend was terrified of anal and basically kept a chastity belt on her butthole at all times. Now here was Tiny, demanding it. Revving with excitement, I flipped her around, pressed her face into the tree, held onto her breasts for balance, and started to slide my cock into her asshole. It was so tight I almost came while only half inside her.

“Shove it in, I like the pain,” she charged. I obliged and fucked her ass so deep my chest was crushing her as she gasped and moaned. I reached around to touch her clit and she slapped my hand away. I had been trying so hard not to come my brain was twisting into knots. Thank fuck the whiskey was keeping me numb.

“Come in my ass,” she screamed, and seconds later I blew the biggest load of my life inside her. When I pulled out, she rubbed her hand between her cheeks, turned around to face me, and shoved her fingers into her mouth, licking everything off until it was clean. Then she grabbed my face and kissed my nose like some kind of a weird thank — you.

Blissed — out and exhausted, we dropped to the grass and leaned against our Fucking Tree. Tiny grabbed the bottle of Beam and took a sip before offering the rest to me.

“I always wanted to get fucked by a jock,” she confessed.

I laughed.

“You were a jock, right?” She was peering at me inquisitively.

“Well, yeah, now that you mention it, yup, sure was,” I replied. “Total jock.”

I would have said anything at that point. I was more than happy to be used as the meat in her lingering high school fantasy.

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