We were grocery shopping the third week of October, and I was wheeling the shopping buggy while my wife picked items from the shelves and put them in the basket. When we got to the produce section, there were four big crates of pumpkins sitting there. Most were the big pumpkins you take home, carve a face into, and then sit it on the porch with a candle inside. One crate was filled with small pumpkins, the kind you use to make pumpkin pie. I stopped and picked one up because they reminded me of Charity’s pumpkin patch.
Back in the day, it wasn’t like now where your parents give you an allowance to spend however you want. There wasn’t any such thing as an allowance for most of us guys. That wasn’t too bad before we discovered girls weren’t just soft boys. We usually got the ball glove we wanted and the bike we wanted though sometimes the bike was used.
It was when we decided Julie Michaels or Vicky Johnson or some other girl was somebody we wanted to take out for a burger and hopefully, a little exploring of what she was hiding under her clothes that things got to be a problem. You might be able to talk Dad into giving you a few bucks for a date, but you had to endure the questions about where were you going to go and what were you going to do. There would also be the inevitable question from Mom – “You remember when we talked about not trying to get a girl to do anything until you’re married to her, don’t you”.
Since the primary goal was to do as much with the girl as she’d let us get away with, we needed some money of our own to spend. That way we could just say we were taking the girl out for a burger and a movie and could we borrow the car for the evening. We still had to get the question from Mom, but at least we didn’t have to beg for money when we lied and said we’d be perfect gentlemen with the girl.
The problem was, when you’re still in your teens, money is hard to come by. You’re still in school so you can’t have a full time job. You have to settle for working what jobs you can find during the summer and what you can find on Saturdays during the school year. For most of us, that meant baling hay and weeding soybeans during the summer, and then whatever we could find on Saturday during the fall harvest. Winters were a famine as far as jobs were concerned unless you were twelve and walked around the neighborhood asking if you could shovel the snow off people’s walks and drives.
I baled hay and weeded soybeans every summer through high school and I did find a job for fall. That job was picking pumpkins for Charity Anderson’s dad. He had about ten acres down inside a bunch of trees that was good land. It was too small to plant in corn or soybeans, so he planted half of it in pumpkins every year and baled hay on the other half. Every year, he’d switch halves. Those pumpkins ended up in the cans of pumpkin sold in the grocery stores. The variety of pumpkin used for that is small – about four or five pounds each - and there were thousands of them that had to be picked and put into carts. Then the carts had to be rolled to the truck and the pumpkins loaded into bins that would be picked up by trucks from the canning factory. I spent the Saturdays in late September and early October picking pumpkins, and I got paid for doing that in two ways.
I didn’t get paid a lot, just a couple dollars an hour, but the twenty dollars I earned each Saturday went a long way back then. Four weeks of picking pumpkins would set me up for dates every other weekend or so for most of the winter.
The second way I got paid was I got to see Charity all day on those Saturdays, because Charity picked pumpkins too. I’d liked Charity since sixth grade. She was one of those girls who was a little bit of a tomboy, and she wasn’t one to shy away from anything. Talking to her was a match of wits, because Charity was a pretty smart girl as well as a pretty girl.
The weather was still pretty warm when the pumpkins were ready to pick, and Charity dressed to stay cool. Pumpkin vines tend to be scratchy, so Charity always wore jeans to protect her legs. It was the tops she wore to keep cool that were fun to watch.
Her mother, like most mothers back then, wouldn’t let Charity wear anything that showed much skin, so Charity usually wore T-shirts. She didn’t tuck them into her jeans though, so when she bent over to cut a pumpkin from the vine, the front of her T-shirt would fall down. If I was in the right place when it did, I could see up her shirt and get a look at her bra.
When we were freshmen in school, Charity didn’t have much in her bras or her jeans. By the time we were seniors, she filled out her bras enough I could sometimes see the seams in her bra cups make lines on the front of her
T-shirts. The way she filled out her jeans was also pretty neat. She had a nice round ass, and when she bent over, well, that was a sight that never failed to raise my cock. Her jeans would pull up in her ass crack a little and her shirt would fall down and show me her boobs hanging there in her bra cups. I’d have to work with my back to her until my cock went back down.
As much as I wanted to find out what was in her bras and jeans, I couldn’t. Her dad was always out there with us and I didn’t think he’d appreciate my slipping my hand inside Charity’s shirt and giving her boobs a squeeze or two. All I could do was look up her shirts during the day and then at night, close my eyes, remember how her big boobs hung down, and jack off.
The fall after I graduated, I entered the local junior college in pre-engineering. Because I wasn’t in classes every hour of the day, I found a job with pretty flexible hours washing dishes and pots and pans at a local chain restaurant. I still worked Saturdays for Charity’s dad picking pumpkins though. It was fairly hard work, but I got to see Charity’s ass and boobs.
It was the second Saturday of picking season that year when Charity’s dad didn’t join us in the pumpkin patch. When I asked her about that, Charity grinned and said her dad had strained his back.
“He hurt so bad he couldn’t get out of bed. I told him it would take a little longer without him, but you and I could handle it. So…I’m your boss today and I’m going to make sure you earn your pay.”
If she hadn’t been grinning, I’d have thought she was serious about bossing me around. I never thought she’d do what she did.
Probably since young guys have been young guys, we’ve been horny as hell and wanting to fix that in some available girl’s pussy. Being able to do that was a rare happening for almost all of us. As a result, there were stories passed around after school about things you could screw that were almost the same. One of those stories was that if you got a ripe pumpkin on a warm afternoon and cut the right size hole in it, it would feel like you were screwing a girl.
I’d never tried it because I didn’t believe it. In my mind, screwing a vegetable wasn’t erotic at all. Besides, if I’d brought a pumpkin home, Dad would have asked me why. I’m sure he knew the reason because those stories had been around for ages. Most guys who told them heard them from their older brothers or cousins who’d heard them from other older brothers or cousins.
I had thought a lot about getting Charity to have sex, not because I’d been looking at her boobs and ass for four years, but because I really liked her. She’d grown up from a gangly girl with not much of a figure into a very sensuous woman, a woman I’d though a lot about. Her personality hadn’t changed either except for tempering her old tom-boy ways a little, and that was the main reason I liked her so much. If I hadn’t been in school, I’d have tried to get to know her a lot better, but I was, and I didn’t have enough money to take her out like I wanted to.
Well, Charity and I were picking pumpkins that Saturday and then loading them into the bins in the back of the big farm truck she’d driven us out to the field in. That was even better than when we picked together. Charity wasn’t tall enough to hand the pumpkins up to the top of the bin, so she climbed up on the truck and loaded the pumpkins into the bins after I handed them up to her. She had to bend over to do that, and when she did, the front of her T-shirt would fall open. When she picked pumpkins and did that, I’d see the bottoms of her bra cups. When she was on the truck and bent over, I’d see her naked boobs, well, part of them anyway.
I’d have get close to the truck with the next pumpkin before I turned around so Charity wouldn’t see my stiff cock when I handed it up to her. I think she must have seen the tent in my jeans at least a couple of times because she grinned at me.
It took too long to drive somewhere for lunch, so we’d always take our lunch and eat in the shade of the truck. That day, Charity said it was time to stop for lunch, so I got my ham sandwich, chips, and thermos out of the truck and sat down against the back tire to eat. She sat down beside me with her fried chicken.
We’d finished eating and were finishing our drinks, when she looked at me and said, “Jerry, is it true what guys say about pumpkins?”
I said I wasn’t sure what she meant, and she giggled.
“I heard a guy last year say if you cut a hole in a pumpkin it feels like having sex with a woman. I just wondered if that was true or not.”
“Well, I’m not the one to ask. I’ve heard that too, but I’ve never done it, so I don’t know.”
“Do you think it might?”
I’m sure I blushed.
“I can’t say. I uh…I’ve never done the other either.”
“Not even once?”
“No, not even once.”
She giggled again.
“Well, I’d like to know if it’s true or not. Why don’t you try it and tell me how it feels?”
“Well, sure. Where else would you do it?”
I shook my head.
“Even if I wanted to, somebody might see me.”
“There’s nobody else here but me, and the trees will hide us from anybody else.”
I shook my head again.
“I don’t think I’d like you watching me either if I was going to do it, which I’m not.”
“Afraid you can’t…get it hard, I mean?”
“Well, you have to admit, a pumpkin isn’t very sexy.”
“What if I show you my boobs? Would that help?”
Well, since I’d been looking at them every time Charity bent over, just thinking about seeing all of them made my cock stiffen a little. It got stiffer when Charity raised her T-shirt up enough I could see the band on her bra. She noticed and giggled again.
“You aren’t even looking at them yet and you’re getting hard. I’ll go find a pumpkin.”
When she came back she was carrying a small pumpkin in one hand and her picking knife in the other. She sat down, looked at me and smiled.
“How big should I make the hole?”
“Charity, I haven’t said I was going to do this yet.”
She just grinned and pulled her T-shirt over her head.
“How about now?”
Well, if her bra had been covering up more of her or if her boobs hadn’t jiggled when she tossed the shirt to the side, I might have told her I wasn’t going to do it. Her bra was one of those half-bra things and while I couldn’t see her nipples, I could see the darker skin of her nipple beds. In seconds, my cock was straining to get out of my jeans.
“Thought that might do it. Now, how big should the hole be…as big as my finger?”
“No, bigger than that.”
Charity wrinkled up her forehead for a second.
“One finger is big enough for me. You’re bigger than that?”
“Yeah, two fingers at least.”
Charity put two fingers on the pumpkin and marked each side of them with her knife, then turned her fingers sideways and marked them again. Then, she stuck the knife into the pumpkin and started cutting a circle inside the box she’d marked. When she got done, she looked at it, then turned it so I could see the hole.
Well, it wasn’t. I’d never have gotten my cock in the hole.
“Uh…no, it needs to be bigger yet.”
Charity raised her eyebrows, but then started trimming the edges of the hole to make it larger. When she finished, she held it up so I could see it.
“How about now?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t believe you. You’re just trying to get me to make it so big it doesn’t feel like anything.”
“No, I’m telling you the truth.”
She looked at me and smiled.
“Then you have to prove it to me. Let me see it.”
“Let you see what?”
“That thing that’s pushing out the front of your jeans. I want to see if it’ll go in the hole or not. Take it out and try it.”
“Charity, I don’t think this is a good idea. What if your dad should come check up on us?”
She smiled and shook her head.
“Dad couldn’t even get out of bed this morning. When he finally does, Mom’s going to take him to the chiropractor, so he won’t be coming out here. Come on. I’ve never seen one. Take it out.”
Her voice got a little lower and softer then.
“If you take it out and show me, I’ll take off my jeans.”
When you’re young, horny, and stupid, there’s only so much resisting you can do. I unbuckled my belt, unzipped, and pulled my jeans down to my knees, then pulled my underwear down too. Charity gasped when my cock jumped free of my underwear.
“God, Jerry,…it is big.”
“I told you.”
“Let’s try it anyway.”
She didn’t actually let me try. She just put the hole in the pumpkin over my cock head and pushed. I yelped because it hurt.
“Ouch. I told you the hole wasn’t big enough. The edges of the hole are kind of rough too.”
Charity pulled the pumpkin off me and then grinned.
“I know what to do to fix that.”
She started carving away at the pumpkin, and a couple minutes later, she showed me what she’d done.
She’d made the hole about the right size and she’d also carved the rind away in a long oval around the hole. She grinned.
“I made it look like me. Let’s try it again.”
That time, my cock did slide inside the pumpkin and it didn’t hurt. It was a little tight but the soft flesh of the ripe pumpkin sort of fitted itself around my cock. When Charity pushed the pumpkin down until it touched my belly and whispered, “Here, you take it.”
When I grabbed the pumpkin, Charity stood up and wiggled out of her jeans. She put them on the ground in front of me and then sat down on them.
If my cock hadn’t been hard yet, it would have gotten that way. Charity had dark brown hair, and her bush was the same color. I knew that because I could see the dark out line through her panties. I also could see the fringe of hair that stuck out the legs of her panties.
She saw me staring and grinned.
“OK, I showed you me. Now show me what it feels like to screw a pumpkin.”
I started moving the pumpkin up and down over my stiff cock, and it surprised me how it felt. The thick flesh of the pumpkin was warm from the sun and kind of wet and slippery and felt pretty good rubbing my cock. When my cock head hit the mass of fibers and seeds in the middle, that was pretty unbelievable.
After a few more strokes, I stopped and looked at Charity.
“It feels good, I guess.”
I noticed that her mouth was open a little and she had one hand stroking her thigh. She didn’t smile. She just said in that low, throaty voice, “Keep going until you shoot.”
She slipped her hand from her thigh to the waistband of her panties then, and I started stroking the pumpkin over my cock when that hand disappeared into her crotch. I saw her panties moving as she fingered herself. That caused a whole new set of feelings in my cock.
I sort of let my imagination take me away then. Charity was slowly rubbing her pussy while she watched me fuck that pumpkin, and once in a while, her hips would sort of rock. I couldn’t really see anything except the crotch of her panties moving in and out and up and down, but that was enough.
When she moaned a little, I started stroking the pumpkin faster, and when she moaned and lifted up her hips, I stroked faster yet. It was coming, I knew it, and I couldn’t stop it. It happened when Charity arched up and made a little cry, and then started shaking her hips up and down. I groaned and spurted my load inside the pumpkin.
It took Charity a little while to calm down, but once she did, she got up, walked over to where I sat and said, “Let me see.”
I pulled the pumpkin off my cock and handed it to her. She looked down the hole and grinned.
“There’s a lot more than I thought there’d be. Is it always this much?”
“Yeah, pretty much, unless I’ve already done it once or twice.”
Charity stuck a finger in the hole in the pumpkin, frowned and then stuck in another, then frowned again and stuck in a third.
“Damn…three fingers and the hole still isn’t very tight. That must be why Mom said it would hurt the first time. You’d split me up the middle.”
I had to chuckle.
“I think you’re suppose to stretch.”
Charity shook her head.
“God, I’d hope so. I wonder how that feels. I’ll have to try three fingers tonight and see.”
She looked at me then and smiled.
“We should probably get back to picking pumpkins now.”
That night it took me a while to go to sleep. I kept thinking of Charity sitting there fingering herself while she watched me jack off in a pumpkin. I knew girls probably did that just like I did, but I’d never suspected Charity would do it in front of me. I’d never suspected she wanted to watch me either. Then I thought of the way her boobs shook when she came and how she’d lifted her hips up into her hand. There was also that little cry she’d made. It wasn’t a word and it wasn’t like she was hurting. It was something else.
I finally gave up, went to the bathroom and jacked off. I did go to sleep after that, but I was still thinking about Charity.
The next Saturday I drove out to Charity’s house and she was already waiting for me in the truck.
“Dad’s back still hurts, so we’re on our own again today. Hop in.”
It was hotter than hell that Saturday, hot enough that after an hour, I’d sweat enough my T-shirt was sticking to me. I’d handed the last of that cart of pumpkins up to Charity when she said, “Jerry, you look like you’re going to melt. Why don’t you take off your shirt and cool down?”
She grinned then.
“If you take off your shirt, I’ll take off mine.”
About three second later, I tossed my shirt into the truck bed. Charity grinned again, and pulled the T-shirt over her head and hung it over the side of a bin. Her bra was different, but still just as revealing. She let me stare at her for a while, and then said, “Those pumpkins aren’t going to pick themselves. Back to work.”
I picked pumpkins as fast as I could. That made the time before lunch pass quicker. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen then, not until I handed Charity the last pumpkin of that cart. She didn’t put it in the bin. She kept it and jumped down from the truck.
“Let’s eat”, she said. “After that we’ll relax a little.”
When Charity started carving on the pumpkin again, I pretty much knew what she meant by relaxing, and I wasn’t wrong. I just underestimated how far she’d go to relax.
She put down her knife and turned her pumpkin so I could see the hole. Like before, she’d carved an oval around the hole. She stuck three fingers in the hole and then grinned.
“That oughta be about right. We need to get ready now.”
I figured she’d just take off her jeans and then sit down on them like the Saturday before. Instead, she opened the truck door and pulled out a blanket, then spread it out beside me and patted it.
“Come on over here and show me what’s making that bulge in your jeans.”
It was true. Charity hadn’t put her shirt back on before we ate, so I’d spent the time watching her boobs roll around in her bra cups. My cock was hard as a rock.
I moved onto the blanket, then pulled my jeans and underwear down to my knees. Charity licked her lips a couple times and then peeled the jeans off her legs. I figured she’d sit down then, just like the Saturday before, but she didn’t. She slipped the bra straps from her shoulders and pulled the cups down. Her boobs looked bigger naked than they’d looked in her bra and I felt my cock lurch a little.
Charity grinned and then hooked her thumbs in her panties and pulled them off too. I was staring at her bush when she handed me the pumpkin.
“Time for you to do your thing, Jerry, so I can do mine.”
It was easier this time, because Charity was so close. I could hear the way she caught her breath when she stroked her pussy the first time, and a little later, I could hear little wet sounds coming from between her thighs. All that was taking me closer and closer to what would eventually happen. It got closer when Charity rolled her face toward me and whispered, “Play with my boobies.”
“Uh…I have both hands holding on to this pumpkin.”
“Use your mouth. I read that’s supposed to be great.”
I rolled to my side enough I could reach her left boob, then opened my mouth and closed it on Charity’s nipple. She gasped, “Oh God…the book was right. Don’t stop doing that.”
It didn’t take Charity as long that Saturday. As soon as I started sucking on her nipple, she started to pant. It was hard to keep her nipple in my mouth then, because she started rubbing her pussy a lot faster and her boob kept bouncing away from he. I didn’t think I bit down that hard when I caught it the next time, but Charity shrieked and started bouncing all over the blanket. She groaned a little and then arched up into her hand. That did it for me. I slammed that pumpkin down over my cock, groaned, and my cock spurted four times before it stopped.
Charity giggled when she stopped panting.
“Wow, I didn’t know it would do that.”
“What would do what?”
“Well, over the last week, I worked my self up to two of my fingers. I think I must have torn something, because on Tuesday night, I felt a little pain and I bled a little. By last night, two would fit and it was really great. I figured it would be the same today and it was until you bit my nipple.”
I knew I’d screwed up and tried to apologize.
“Charity, I’m sorry about doing that. I was just trying to hold on.”
She giggled again.
“I didn’t say it hurt. What it did was make me orgasm so hard I couldn’t see for a while. It was fabulous.”
“Well, you made it better for me too.”
Charity stretched and her big boobs rolled around when she did.
“Mmm…I’d love to do this again, but if we don’t fill the truck, Dad will know something’s going on.”
That night was the same as the Saturday before, only worse. Instead of imagining what Charity’s boobs looked like, I could close my eyes and see them wobbling on her chest when she came. I could almost feel her nipple in my mouth. I was also sure the faint scent I’d caught when she stroked my cheek was from her pussy, and for some reason, my cock had started to get hard again. It took another trip to the bathroom before I finally went to sleep.
I figured the next Saturday would be my last day of picking pumpkins, but it was going to be a long ass day. Pumpkins don’t all ripen at the same time, so what was left in the field was a pumpkin here, another there, and a couple more a few feet away. I was going to have to walk my ass off.
When I drove up beside the farm truck, Charity was waiting for me.
“Dad’s back is better, but he’s going back to the chiropractor today, so we’ll be all alone again.”
She was grinning at the time, so I knew what she meant. Sure enough, about twelve, Charity said it was time to eat. She didn’t say we’d relax afterward, but I figured she knew I understood that.
She took the last pumpkin I handed her when she jumped down from the truck, and before we ate, she spread her blanket out on the ground. She didn’t say much while we ate lunch. It looked like she was thinking about something. I was wondering what that was when she looked at me and smiled.
“We’re about done with the field, and that means you won’t be coming out anymore, doesn’t it?”
“Well, I guess so. I don’t know what else your dad would hire me to do. He’s done with the corn and soybeans.”
“Jerry, I wish you could keep coming out. I’ve liked having you here.”
“That sounds like you want me to keep screwing pumpkins while you watch. Is that what you want?”
“No. What I want is…I can’t say it. I’ll have to show you.”
Charity pulled off her T-shirt, took off her bra, then pulled off her jeans and panties. She reached for the pumpkin and her knife then, so I pulled my jeans and underwear down to my knees. When I looked up then, Charity wasn’t carving a hole in the pumpkin. She’d cut off the top, like when you make a jack-o-lantern.
She rubbed her finger around inside the pumpkin and then leaned back, spread her legs, and stroked that finger between her hair covered pussy lips. She looked up at me and smiled a shy little smile.
“That’s to help you find where I want you to put it this time.”
I shook my head.
“Charity, as much as I’d like to do that, I still have four years of school left and I barely have enough money to get by. I can’t risk you getting pregnant. That would ruin both our lives.”
Charity leaned over and put her hand on my chest.
“Jerry, I know all that. That’s why I went to the doctor a month ago when Dad said you were coming back. I’ve been on the pill for a month, and I’m safe now.”
I don’t know if I’d have done what she wanted if she hadn’t wrapped her fingers around my cock then, but she did, so I’ll never know. What I do know is I wanted Charity more than I’d ever wanted anything else.
She wispered, “Take your clothes off all the way and then make love to me.”
For two people who didn’t know what they were doing, we managed pretty well. I knew enough to not move too fast, and I knew she liked her boobs played with. After I kissed her, that’s what I did, but I sort of got lost while doing it. I’d dreamed about holding a real breast in my hand, but the real thing was more than I’d ever imagined.
I’d had one of Charity’s nipples in my mouth, but I’d never really looked at them to see what happened. When I did look, it was amazing. Charity’s nipples weren’t very big, but when I stroked a finger over them, they got a lot longer and a lot thicker, and the sides were full of stiff little ridges. Her nipple beds reacted too, and got all wrinkled up with little bumps all over them. After a little of that, Charity was moaning a lot and trying to find my cock.
She did find it and started stroking it. She stopped for a while when I cupped her pussy in my hand and then curled a finger up between her lips. She started stroking again after she’d caught her breath, but stopped when I slipped that finger into her entrance. She moaned then and whispered, “Jerry, use two and open me for you”.
Two fingers were pretty snug, but by the time I got the second one in, Charity was so slippery inside I knew I wasn’t hurting her. She gasped and arched up into my hand, then pulled my face down to hers and kissed me again. She was rocking her pussy into my stroking fingers and as soon as I broke the kiss, she pushed my face down to her boobs. She moaned when I sucked her right nipple, and after I’d sucked it for a while, she started pulling on my shoulders. When my face was even with hers, Charity whispered, “I’m ready for you. Put it in now.”
That first Saturday we were alone, Charity has asked if fucking a pumpkin felt like fucking a woman. After the first stroke, I had an answer for her. Comparing a pumpkin to her was like comparing a firecracker to a stick of dynamite. Most of what I’d felt with the pumpkin was because I’d been watching Charity. Actually having my cock inside her and hearing and feeling her body respond with little tightenings and a lot of little moans were beyond description.
I knew I should wait until she was there, but it was becoming a very hard thing to do. I was looking down at her face, at the little “O” her mouth made and the way she had her eyes closed and the way her breath flowed into my own face when she moaned. It was the way her hands were on my back, stroking one second, and then digging her nails into me when she caught her breath. It was the way her legs brushed my sides when she tried to lift her pussy and push my cock in deeper.
I was almost ready to give up trying to hold back when Charity gasped, dug her nails into my back again, and then lifted herself up off the blanked. She hung there, then cried out, and started rocking her pussy over my cock so fast I couldn’t hold back any more. I rammed my cock into her and spurted the first of four shots deep inside her.
When Charity stopped gasping for air, she pulled me down on top of her, kissed me on the cheek, and whispered, “I don’t want to ever stop doing this with you”.
We were finishing up the field when a pickup truck drove up beside the farm truck. Charity’s dad looked stiff when he got out, and he was bent over when he walked up to us.
He looked over the field and nodded.
“You two did a good job. I see a couple here and there, but I’ll get them as soon as this back stops hurting. They’ll make good pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
He turned to Charity then.
“Charity, Honey, take the truck back to the house. Jerry and I’ll be back to unload it in a couple of minutes.”
Charity looked at me, raised her eyebrows, and then got in the truck and drove off. Her dad waited until she left the trees and then put his hand on my shoulder.
“Jerry, my wife tells me Charity’s been really happy the last few weeks. I’m thinking you’ve been picking more than my pumpkins out here. My wife says that’s the only reason she can think of.”
I started to stammer out a lie I hoped he’d believe but he stopped me.
“Jerry, don’t go trying to tell me something I’m not gonna believe anyway. I was your age once, and I remember how I thought back then. Charity’s old enough to make her own decisions, and it’s not up to me or her mother to tell her what to do anymore. All I’m going to say is if you’re just doing it for you, you’re not the man I thought you were and I don’t want you back on my farm. If you’re doing it because you love her, you ought to be thinking about making it legal.”
I’d expected him to at least kick me off his farm if not beat me within an inch of my life. I didn’t quite know what to say for a second. I didn’t know if I loved Charity or not, and the only reason I’d done it at all was because she’d talked me into it. When I thought a little more though, I realized that’s what I’d been telling myself as an excuse for why I did it. After that last Saturday, in my heart I knew she wouldn’t have had to say anything except yes because I wanted her that much.
“Mr. Anderson, if you’re saying I should marry Charity, well, I like Charity a lot, but I don’t have enough money to really support myself, let alone a wife.”
“Well, now that we know you at least like her, I can tell you that she loves you. She told her mother that. As for supporting her, I don’t think Charity would ever be happy being supported. She’ll want to do her part. She didn’t grow up getting everything she wanted either, so she knows how to be happy with what she has.”
“She loves me?”
“That’s what she told her mother. Charity doesn’t usually lie.”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know if I love her.”
“I didn’t know if I loved her mother when we got married either. I knew I liked her and I liked being with her though. She told me that meant I loved her, so I asked her to marry me. That about how you feel about Charity?”
“Well, yes, but…I can’t give her much of a life, not until I get out of school and that’ll be four more years.”
“Well, they say time flies when you’re having fun. The last truck to the cannery is coming tomorrow. I’d load it if it wasn’t for this back. You think about what I said and come back tomorrow to drive the lift truck. We’ll talk some more then.”
Charity put the bunch of bananas in the cart and then chuckled.
“You gonna take one of those home and see if it still feels the same?”
I grinned at her as I put the pumpkin back in the crate.
“No, I was just remembering, that’s all.”
“Well, let’s get a couple and I’ll make us a pumpkin pie like Mom always does. If you’re good, I’ll even put a little pumpkin on my pumpkin patch to show you the way again.”
I patted Charity on her ass. It’s a little bigger than it was thirty years ago, but it’s still a nice ass.
“After all these years, I think I know the way to your pumpkin patch.”
“Yeah, you seem to…although you only pick my pumpkins about every other day lately.”
“Well, I’ll be done with this design job by the weekend so I won’t be so tired. Maybe we’ll go pumpkin picking a couple times on Saturday and Sunday. Would you like that?”
“Are you sure your pumpkin picker is up to that?”
“There’s more than one way to pick a pumpkin, you know.”
“Yes, I do. Denise told me about one when we talked on the phone last night, a way we’ve never tried.”
“Denise is only nineteen. How would she know about something like that?”
“I was only nineteen, remember? It didn’t seem to bother you then.”
“Well, you weren’t my daughter. What did she tell you?”
Charity patted my arm.
“I can’t tell you. I’ll have to show you.”
Well, like I said, Charity isn’t one to shy away from anything. I don’t know what Denise told her, but Denise is a carbon copy of her mother, so I’ll bet it’s going to be fun finding out.