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This is a piece I wrote many years ago and only uncovered it as I was going through some old files. It’s a lot softer and more sentimental than what I tend to write these days. I’d love to know what you think…
Andy was young- that is to say, he was naïve. Growing up sheltered in rural Nebraska, he had little exposure to anything more romantically risqué than the carefully orchestrated, closely monitored dances that followed church on Sundays in the summertime. He was raised with the intention of marrying Sally Joe Werther whose family farm was across the road from his. They would get hitched just as soon as Sally graduated bible college in Louisville.
Sally was as pretty as she was devout. She permitted Andy to hold her hand while they danced on Sundays under the condition that he placed his handkerchief in between their hands so as to prevent him from sweating on her. She only agreed to such intimacy being as how Pastor Bill had said it was ok. Otherwise, their courtship generally consisted of them sitting across from each other and reading scripture at the picnic table that straddled the line that separated their families’ properties.
Andy was a well-fed boy that was rapidly growing into his own. Now 20 years old, dense muscles began to fill in his 6-foot frame as a dark mustache starting taking shape. He was the middle of three brothers and had never been regarded as being all that handsome growing up. Much to everyone’s surprise, he was developing into a fetching young man.
With Sally now off to college, Andy was gaining the attention of many of the young ladies in town. He had a habit of dismissing their advances as simple kindness. But soon, the carnal urges that he had fought so desperately to suppress were clouding his judgment. He found himself making unnecessary trips into town for chance encounters with Emma at the feed store or Holly at the IH parts dealer, of Jennifer at the Co-Op.
At night, when the lights were out, he was roused by thoughts of them, their pretty round faces, their delicate curls, the sweet smell of their perfume, their overly friendly smiles. He couldn’t stop the images of their soft, smooth bodies from entering his thoughts. The way Emma would lean over the counter, revealing just a hint of the plentiful cleavage she hid behind wispy blouses. The way Holly’s breasts would bounce ever so slightly when she laughed too hard at his jokes. Or how Jennifer would take her time to pull down her dress to cover her smooth thighs when she sat down.
Andy had his way with each of them nightly, crafting elaborate stories of them luring him into the back room and ravaging him. As the climactic moments in his fantasies arrived, he took hold of himself and squeezed hoping to stop his lust from corrupting him. He cursed himself for having been unable to summon the faith Sally would have expected of him to resist such sinful thoughts.
Every night he told himself he would never do it again, he would stop going into town, he would stop thinking these thoughts, he would recite bible verses to drown them out. And every day he would renege on his promise and go to them, knowing it was wrong, still feeling the mess of last night’s depravity caked on his abdomen.
And with each successive night, his fantasies grew more elaborate, the scenarios more detailed, his desires more extravagant. Soon, he was unable to shut out these fantasies as he performed his duties on the farm.
Finding himself alone in the barn one day, hoisting sacks of feed from the truck up to the loft, Holly came to him in a daydream. Dressed in a canary yellow sun dress and cowboy boots embroidered in bright stitching, she came bouncing in through the open barn doors. Blond curls cascaded over her shoulders, leaving bare the unblemished skin between her breasts.
Fighting the urge to indulge his fantasy, he tried singing hymns sunday school. He had sung these songs for as long as his memory went back, but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall any of the words in this moment. Flustered, he tried to focus all of his effort on work.
In order to hoist the heavy sacks of feed off the truck, he had to lean in and hug them close to his body using his legs to support the weight. Feeling the sensation of the feed giving way through the sack as his jean pressed hard into it, he imagined Holly’s rotund behind involuntarily. He fell to his knees, his trousers soggy now with his guilty satisfaction. He prayed in vain to be rid of these shameful desires.
The crossroads at Highway 20 and Duvall Farm Rd was half way between town and the farm. Approaching this intersection in his truck as he made his way into town, Andy noticed a blue sedan off to the north side of the road. It was the blue sedan that belonged to Old Man Duvall. When he passed away a year ago, his young widow began driving it to town once a week to complete her errands.
Andy slowed as he approached. There was smoke rising from under the hood. There was a lone escort taksim figure standing on the side of the road looking down at it. It was Jane, Old Man Duvall’s widow.
She was wearing a green dress that would have been far too revealing for any of the other women in town. The sheer green material hugged her figure so as to accentuate her already overstated curves. The neckline plunged down far enough to give a glimpse of her well rounded breasts pushed up with a lacy pink bra. The slit up the side of the dress exposed plump thighs that were smooth and strong. Her heels were wholly out of place here out in the country, but she wore them with seductive aplomb.
Stopping off to the side of the road, he saw her turn to him and smile with a wide mouth painted pink. As her eyes met his, he felt an involuntary surge in his belly, his gut twisted and his face was instantly flush. He jumped out of the car trying not to be too obvious that he was hiding his arousal.
“I hated this damn car since the day that old fool brought it home!” she exclaimed.
“Are you alright, Mrs. Duvall?”
“You will call me Jane, and I am fine. Now will you please take me home?” she said, as a statement more than a question.
Before he could respond, she sauntered over towards his truck. Andy watched helplessly as her hips swung back and forth, her shoulders swaying to match. He stood frozen as she walked to the passenger side of his truck.
“Well, are you gonna be rude or are you gonna come over here and open it for me? I am a lady, in case you haven’t noticed,” she said with contrived scorn.
Andy certainly had noticed just how much of a lady she was- more lady, in fact, than he had ever laid eyes on before. He ran around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. She placed a hand on his shoulder as she attempted to climb into the cab. She struggled for a moment before turning to him with devilish smile, saying, “you’ll just have to give me a lift up.”
She put her arm around his neck and lifted one of her legs revealing a gap in fabric all the way up her thighs. The moment his eyes arrived on her lacy undergarment, the sweet smell of her perfume hit his nose with intoxicating effect. Obeying her command, he reached down and placed an arm below her legs finding the crease between her thighs and cheeks. Her soft, supple skin yielded to his strong arms and she giggled as she hugged herself tightly to his solid frame.
He gently lifted her into the truck and sat her on the bench seat. She felt every inch of his powerful shoulders and arms as she settled in. “Wow, you’re not so much of a boy anymore are you, Andy?” she said as he closed her door.
His heart skipped a beat when she said his name. Having only met her in passing more than ten years prior, he couldn’t believe she would remember him. He was only ten years old at the time and speechless in the face of such beauty. Jane was Old Man Duvall’s second wife whom he married after his first wife died of cancer. She was only thirty-two when she married the fifty-nine-year-old widower.
The cab of the truck quickly filled with the smell of her perfume. As they drove, the tension grew unbearable as she smiled at him and thanked him for being so kind. Pulling into her driveway, she instructed Andy that he was to come inside for a glass of lemonade. That was, after all, the least she could do to repay his kindness.
She motioned him to sit down in the chair in the living room while she fetched him his refreshment. His heart felt as though it would beat out of his chest. Beyond nervous, the smell of her perfume and the flowers arranged on the table, he was almost to the point of climax as he replayed the feeling of her womanly thighs under his arm, the supple give of her breasts against his chest, her breath on his neck.
From the kitchen, she called out to him that she would be just a minute as she would have to freshen up after having been out in the elements. She quickened her paces as she made her way to her wardrobe. She cast off her dress and threw it in a heap in the corner and tossed on a light sun dress that was even more revealing than the first. Glancing in the mirror, she tussled her hair and pushed up her breasts in her bra as she started back to the kitchen.
Her heart was aflutter as she considered the fact that there was a man, a dangerously handsome young man at that, in her living room. A man whose bulging muscles had just lifted her effortlessly off the ground with the strength and grace of a real man, a man she had only ever imagined before, a man that was beyond any of her wildest fantasies. What was she doing primping herself in the mirror, smiling at him so wanly? Wasn’t he just a boy not more than a few years ago? Had it been so long since she had been with a man that she would swoon over this unwitting fellow?
Despite her rational reservations, she could still feel his bulging muscles gently holding her, scooping her into his arms as though she were light beşiktaş escort as a feather. She was entranced by the smell of a working man over her perfume, the intoxicating aroma of sweat, leather, hay and aftershave. Oh how she wished she could’ve nestled her nose in the crook of his neck and drink in that smell until she was drunk on it.
A shiver made its way down her spine, sending a tingling jolt between those thighs she had seen him admiring earlier. It made her giddy to think that this young buck was feasting his eyes on her longingly. Yes, it had been many years since anyone had paid such attention to her. The men in town were all married and she rarely ventured beyond the county line. The boys were too intimidated by the sight of a woman who wore clothes for the purpose of fashion and not chastity or work.
As she neared the living room, passion bubbled up inside her, giving a bounce to her step, creating an awareness of her body she had forgotten long ago. Pride swelled as she arched her back and stretched her shoulders back to make her breasts protrude through the thin material of her minimal dress. She strutted in a way that made her chest bounce and her bottom shake. Stopping for a moment, she quickly pulled off her panties to allow her cheeks to move more freely with each step, tucking them between the pillows of the loveseat in the hallway.
One last look in the mirror before she made her appearance in the living room. She had in her hands the pitcher of lemonade she had in the fridge, a bowl of ice and a glass. Facing away from him, she set them down on the table and glanced quickly to notice Andy looking at her legs. By the look on his face, she knew she still had it. Doing her very best to make it appear accidental, she dropped the ice tongs off the table onto the floor.
Andy quickly offered to grab it but she insisted that he shouldn’t trouble himself and to let her take care of it. Bending at the waist, she slowly reached down to the floor knowing that his eyes were rising up the back of her legs following the material of her dress. Stopping for longer than necessary with her derriere held resplendently on display for him, her legs spread just enough to see sunlight through her dress between the gap of her thighs. She smiled when he understood he was caught gawking.
Shifting nervously in his chair, Andy crossed his legs with the hope that she might not notice the wetness now seeping through his pants. He tried to speak but his heart felt like it was in his throat. Could he be imagining this? Was this woman aware that she was driving him wild? She had to know- she smiled at him when she caught him looking. She changed her dress for heaven’s sake!
He had never met a woman so unashamed of her body, so unafraid to accentuate her curves and stoke the desires of a man. Sure, she was no longer “technically” a married woman, but was it alright for her to be so forward with him? Was it alright for him to go along with it? If she doesn’t straighten up and stop smiling at me, he thought, I am going to explode in my pants.
Swiveling on the balls of her feet, she did something of a pirouette as she rose to a standing position. It was at once graceful and alluring. The movement caused her blouse to shift over, revealing the black piping of lace around her bra. As her body came to a halt, her chest giggled a bit causing Andy to breathe deep. Noticing his excitement sent Jane’s heart racing.
Did he suspect what she was doing, that she is using all of the tricks she learned in high school all those years ago back in southern California to get the boys all wound up? She didn’t care what he thought- she relished the fact that she could still make a man hot. She felt a rush of heat spill over her body as she saw what she was doing to him. Now it was she that had to avert her eyes as she felt the wave washing down through her belly. I need a cold drink before I do something crazy, she thought to herself as she poured a glass of lemonade and dropped in several cubes of ice.
Turning so that he would see her profile, she arched her back and raised the glass to her lips and drank in deeply, moaning loudly with satisfaction. Turning to face him, she licked her lips suggestively working her tongue slowly as she allowed a hint of a wicked smile to escape. Just then she took two slow steps in his direction and handed him the half empty glass, the rim painted with her lipstick. “I hope you like it. I made it myself. It’s tart- just like I like it,” she said with seduction dripping from her lips.
Andy sat up and took the glass. He rotated it so that when he raised it to his mouth, his lips were on her lipstick. He cocked his head back and swallowed deeply, finishing the glass in two huge gulps, his eyes never leaving hers. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand as Jane imagined a field hand would do, a working man. The sight of his veins popping out from under his skin, strong and virile, made her legs weak. She wanted to touch him, to feel şişli escort the warmth of his skin, to run her hands over the thick muscles of his forearms, feeling his blood coursing through his veins.
She wanted to feel the weight of a man on her body, the heft of a real man pinning her down. She wanted to feel the tickle of his whiskers on her neck and behind her ear. She longed to feel the strength of his hands grabbing her, squeezing her breasts, her thighs, her ass. She imaged his thick hands scanning over her whole body, touching and caressing every inch of her, greedy like a kid in a candy store. She could almost feel him on her in that moment. The closeness felt like magnetism, like she was being drawn in, powerless to resist, as though she might fall into him if she didn’t step back.
He extended the glass back to her, the ice cubes clanging against the inside of the glass. Her hand touched his as she grabbed the glass. It was like electricity between them, like they had been struck by lightning. They held the glass together for a long moment, their eyes locked, neither of them wanting to be the first to break away.
Without breaking the stare, Andy rose to his feet. He stood 8 inches taller than her. Now only a hair’s breadth away from her, he had to bend his neck down as far as he could to maintain eye contact, pushing their bodies dangerously close together. She could feel the heat radiating off his skin onto hers. A sheen of sweat appeared over both of them in the waning afternoon light in the corner of the living room. Jane could feel herself now wet with more than sweat as he refused to let go of the glass.
She let out an involuntary chuckle at this and was about to say something when Andy released the glass and drew her in with both arms and squeezed her as his mouth pressed against hers. His lips were soft and full and hot and wet and sweet with lemonade. She nearly burst in ecstasy under the pressure of his embrace and the weight of his kiss. Jane awkwardly tried for a few seconds to place the glass on the table before finally dropping it.
The crash of the glass on the floor heightened the tension of the moment. Jane raised herself to meet the force of his mouth, pushing her tongue through his lips. The tart of the lemonade and the chill of the ice was still on his tongue as she sucked hard on his mouth and thrust her tongue in deep. She pressed her hips hard onto him, gripping the back pockets of his pants in order to drive his hard cock against her body. She nearly came as she imagined its actual length and girth as she felt it on her through his jeans.
Andy couldn’t believe what he was doing. He had never even so much as held a girl’s bare hand before and now he was dry humping a full-grown woman. His fantasies felt like child’s play compared to the way she commanded his tongue with hers, how she grabbed ahold of him and thrust her body on his. Her hips grinded on him rhythmically, her breasts smashed against his chest, his pulsing erection feeling like it would impale her abdomen. Her body moved divinely past the point of resistance, casting a spell on him, rendering him powerless to hold back.
When he knew he could not hold off any longer, her reached up and grabbed a chunk of her hair, cocking her head to the side just a bit and thrusting his tongue into her mouth as deep as he could. As he did this, she sucked it deeper into her mouth as she imagined it was his pulsing cock. She felt the hot, wet mess through her dress after a few seconds of this. Wow, I’ve still got it, she thought.
When his spasms died down, she pulled her mouth off of his and loosened her grip on his pants. She smiled and admired the shit-eatin’ grin that was plastered on his face. She backed up a step to assess the wet stain and thought he must’ve been storing that up for a good long while because it was more than just a little. He may be a virgin, but he is all man. And while she may not be a virgin, she was not going to be left wanting.
Realizing that she knew that he had shot his wad, Andy felt a pang of embarrassment. What was supposed to happen now? He had never had sex with an actual woman before. By his accounting, that statement still remained factual. Isn’t there something he could for her since he had finished before she got started? He knew that he could get it back up again, but it might be 5 or 10 minutes before he would be recharged.
“I’m sorry,” he said reflexively. “Is there,” she stopped him with a wet kiss on his lips before he could finish. Lips still locked, she backed up a few steps in the direction of the hallway. “Oh, no. We’re not done yet,” she said confidently. She took him by the hand and led him down the hallway to the bedroom.
Opening the door, the sheer lavender curtains painted the walls a soothing purple. The bed was so tall it had a stepping stool Jane needed to climb up to get in. Turning to face him, she pulled her sun dress off in one fluid motion leaving her standing there with nothing but a bra and an anklet. The sight of her nearly naked body was like a jump start to his cock. He felt the tingling between his legs he had come to know during those nights when he imagined Emma or Holly in this same scenario. But unlike Emma or Holly, Jane was more demanding.
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