SEX ON THE FARM, PART 3

“I know you want to feel a dick in you again,” said my hippie girlfriend as we walked around the school yard after finishing our lunches.
“Uh . . . no, I am happy having sex with you,” I muttered.
She looked at me with an expression that said you are a lying bitch. But she simply said, “Don’t worry. I am not jealous. In fact I want to introduce you to a good friend of mine. You will like him.”
I was relieved. She was everything I wanted, but admittedly my memory of the sex with my cousin was pretty arousing. The idea of having a big dick shoved in me again had lots of appeal. So I answered, “If he is a friend of yours, I know I will like him.”
“There is just one problem,” she said as we headed back toward the building. “He is pretty large so you will have to stretch yourself before you can let him do you.”
I frowned. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“How big is the dildo you told me you use?”
I thought for a moment then dug a marks-a-lot pen from my purse. “About like this.”
She burst into laughing. “You gotta be kidding. That’s not a dildo. That’s a tickler.” She thought for a moment. “Tell you what, since we have given each other keys to our lockers, I will bring my dildo to school tomorrow and stash it in your locker. It will be in a plain brown wrapper (giggle). Make sure nobody sees you take it out. Put it in the bottom of your back pack. Start using it every day.” She giggled again. “It’s much bigger than a marks-a-lot so you’ll have to work up to it. Start with the head then go in a little farther each time until you are stretched. You can bring it back to me when you meet him. My friend is big so be prepared.” The bell ending lunch break rang so we raced for the classroom.
The next day, I looked around to see that no one was near my locker when I unzipped my back pack and shoved it inside; I slipped the package into the bottom.