Soybeans, Hay, Maddy, and Stacey

There’s an old saying that you can take a farm boy off the farm but you can never take the farm out of the farm boy.  That saying is very true in my case.  There’s just something about growing up on a farm that never leaves you.  I’m not sure what it is.  Maybe it was watching the rich, black Illinois soil roll off a mirror polished plow moldboard.  Maybe it was watching as individual kernels of corn planted in rows grew almost overnight into fields of tall green corn stalks bearing ears that would end up becoming somebody’s morning cornflakes.  Maybe it was walking out to the cattle on a spring morning and watching a newborn calf struggle to get to its feet so it could nurse.

My dad quit farming when I was thirteen and I went on to a career in engineering, but I still watch what the farmers are doing every year.  Things have changed a lot.  Nobody plows anymore.  Farmers all use what they call “no-till” methods.  They’ll run a field cultivator through a field to break up the soil, then disk down the top and then plant.  Leaving what farmers used to plow under, the stalks and roots from last year’s crop, holds the soil in place over the winter so the wind doesn’t blow it away.  I’ve seen enough topsoil blown off fields to make piles of dust along the roads, so that’s a good thing.

Another thing that’s changed is most farmers used to raise some livestock as well as field crops.  Farmers get paid when they sell their crop, so having some livestock to take to the sale barn every few months was a source of immediate cash.  It also gave them a steer to slaughter in the fall for meat for the year.  If the farmer had a few hogs, he’d have ham for Christmas and bacon for breakfast too.

Farmers also had big gardens and farm wives canned or froze a whole year’s worth of vegetables, fruits, and jam over the summer.  Nowadays, you either raise crops or you raise cattle or hogs.  You might keep a few chickens around for eggs and a steer for meat, but that’s about it.  Either way, a lot of farm wives buy most of their groceries just like city wives.  That’s probably a good thing for farm wives because it saves them a lot of work.

When a farmer doesn’t have a herd of cattle, he doesn’t need to set aside part of his acreage for hay and feed corn.  That land gets planted in corn or wheat or soybeans that bring in money in the fall.  Even if he does raise a steer for beef, it’s cheaper to buy hay and cattle feed than to grow them.

There are farmers who raise hay for sale rather than for their own livestock, but that’s changed too.  When my dad raised hay, he mowed it and raked it into rows, but he didn’t own a hay baler.  He paid so much a bale to a man who did have a baler to pick up the hay and process it into bales.

The hay baler picked up the hay and compressed it into blocks of hay about a foot and a half square by three feet long that weighed about fifty pounds each and then tied that block together with two lengths of binder twine.  The bale then came out of the back end of the baler on a chute and either dropped to the ground, or was grabbed by a man on a rack wagon pulled behind the baler.

When the rack wagon was full, it was pulled to the barn and unloaded into the second story “haymow” of the barn.  That was done by a man on the wagon putting the bales onto a conveyor called a corn dump that went from the ground up to the hay mow and more men inside the haymow who carried each bale from the corn dump and stacked it for the winter.

Usually, the guys doing all that lifting and carrying in the field and at the barn were young guys between the ages of fifteen and eighteen.  Putting up hay took a lot of manual labor and young guys were strong, had a lot of stamina, and most importantly, didn’t have a wife and kids to support so they’d work for a dollar an hour plus lunch at the local diner.

The last hay field I drove by on my way to work didn’t have square bales sitting on the ground with young guys tossing them onto a rack wagon where other young guys stacked them up.  Instead, there were huge round bales sitting there, bales that weigh about six hundred pounds.  A man on a tractor with a long spike on the front-end loader stabbed each bale and then loaded it onto a fifth-wheel trailer pulled by his pickup that he’d later drive to his farm.  There, he’d use another tractor with a spike to unload the bales.

Those round bales were more economical to produce, but they ended an income stream for guys who could only work from June through August because they were in school the rest of the year.

That left the only other job opportunity for young guys - hand weeding soybeans, though every farmer I knew called it “walking beans”.  Soybeans are planted in rows just like corn, and once they were about six inches tall, the farmer would make a pass through them with a cultivator mounted on a tractor.  After that first pass, the bean plants would grow pretty fast and would turn into bushes about waist high and would almost cover the space between the rows.  A tractor and cultivator would have damaged a lot of bean plants, so the weeding was done by young guys walking through the field with a hoe.  The hoe was just for show.  I never once weeded beans for any farmer who didn’t say, “Don’t go cutting off those weed with the hoe.  They’ll just grow back.  You pull every weed out by the roots.”

Well, that’s gone today too, replaced by herbicides that kill weeds but not beans.  It’s a shame really, because baling hay and walking beans were the ways most young guys got introduced to what a job was all about.  If you worked hard, you’d get called back every day until the field was finished.  Farmers also told each other which boys did an honest days work and which didn’t.  It wasn’t unusual for me to get a call from a farmer when he had hay to bale or beans to walk.

It also gave young boys the opportunity to earn a little money and then learn about being careful how you spent that money.  It was the first step in understanding budgeting.  It was also a first step in learning what an employer expected of an employee and how to contend with what life threw at you.

If I was baling hay, I’d show up at the farm at seven, climb on a rack wagon and ride to the field, and then spend the next five hours throwing bales from the ground to the rack wagon or stacking them on the wagon.  Then we’d all pile into the back of a pickup truck and go to town for lunch.  At one, we’d be back at it, though most farmers would let us switch from the field to the barn and vice versa.  

Quitting time was usually five, but if there were just a few bales left or if there was rain in the forecast, those bales had to be in the barn or they’d start to rot.  It might be six before the field was empty and then another hour before all the hay was in the barn.  If you finished early, you just went home.  There was no getting paid for eight hours when you only worked six and no saying that you had to leave right at five unless you were going to be paid time and a half for the extra hours.

If I was walking beans, the day still started at seven.  Usually four of us and the farmer would get in his pickup and he’d take us to the field.  We’d weed four rows at a time, half a mile from the start of the rows to the end, then turn around and weed four rows coming back.  That could take an hour or better.  Once we got back to the truck, we’d get a drink from the big cooler filled with half ice and half water, rest a few minutes and then start back on another four rows.

Just like with baling hay, at noon we’d ride the truck to the local diner for lunch, and then be back at it at one.  Quitting time was usually five unless one more pass would finish the field.

I baled hay and walked soybeans from the time I was fifteen until the summer I graduated from high school.  I was eighteen and could have gone to work in a local factory if I’d wanted that as a career, but nobody was interested in hiring me for just three months before I started college.  Instead, I kept doing farm work just like the summers before.

Starting in June, I worked baling hay for several different farmers.  Most of those jobs lasted just a couple days, but there were enough farmers with livestock I still worked baling hay for a couple weeks.  After that, the grass and clover needed time to grow before it could be cut again.  That worked out fine most years because after that first cutting, there would be some soybeans ready to walk.

That year was about the time farmers started experimenting with herbicides instead of hand weeding, so there weren’t as many jobs in the bean fields.  Thankfully, I’d built sort of a reputation, so I still got a few calls.  Most were from farmers I’d worked for before.  One of those calls was to a farm I’d worked before, but it had changed hands.  That wasn’t a surprise.  Mr. Donaldson had decided it was time to retire when he turned seventy and had passed the farm along to his only heir, his daughter.

I didn’t know Madeline Speers because I was still a little kid when she married a guy from Springfield and they moved there for his job.  I only heard about her from Mr. Donaldson when I helped him bale hay and hoe his beans.  He told me that Maddy, as he called her, had been as good a farmer as any man around because he taught her everything he’d have taught a boy if he and his wife had been able to have one.

Well, Madeline called me one evening and explained that she and her husband had moved to the Donaldson farm right after Christmas and had started farming it as more of a hobby farm.  Her husband drove back and forth to Springfield to his job every day and she did most of the farm work.  She said her beans needed to be weeded and asked if I was available. I wasn’t about to turn down any job, so I said I’d be there at seven the next morning.

I knew a lot of farm girls in high school and I couldn’t imagine any of them riding a tractor and plowing or disking or planting, so I figured Madeline must be kind of different.  When I got to the Donaldson farm the next morning, I found out she was, but not different like I’d expected.

I knew Madeline would have to be at least forty and I expected her to be a little on the heavy side and not really very pretty.  The woman who was filling up the pickup truck from the bulk tank beside the garage wasn’t heavy and she wasn’t plain.  She had long, dark brown hair pulled back in a pony tail that stuck out through the back of her baseball cap.  She wasn’t wearing jeans and a shirt either like I’d expected.  She was wearing shorts and a tank top that fit well enough I was wondering if she’d look as hot when she was naked.  The only thing she was wearing that was even remotely farmer-like was a pair of work boots with white socks.

Madeline smiled when I walked up and said I was Roger Mays and she’d called me to help her weed her beans.

“Hi, Roger.  I’m Madeline, but please call me Maddy.  Madeline sounds like an old woman and I don’t like feeling old.  You ready to work?  Daddy said you’re the one I should call because you always did a good job for him.  I filled a cooler with ice and water and it’s sitting on the back porch.  Why don’t you go get it while I finish filling up my truck?  It’ll be just the two of us today, but we’ll have another helper in a few days.”

The bean field was behind the barn so we didn’t have far to drive.  Madeline parked at the gate into the field and when we got out she handed me a hoe.

“Daddy said you’d already know, but don’t use the hoe unless you can’t pull the weeds.  He didn’t leave many weeds to go to seed every year and I want to keep it that way.”

I’d done this so many times weeds growing in between the bean plants stuck out like a sore thumb.  I’d see the different leaves or stem, pull the weed by the roots, and move on.  It didn’t take long before I was about twenty feet ahead of Madeline.  When I looked back to see what she was doing, what I saw was she was trying to pull up a big button weed.  What I also saw was how her tank top had fallen away from her breasts enough I could see her white bra and how her heavy breasts jiggled when she pulled on the button weed.

I dropped my hoe so I could find where I’d left off and then walked back to help her.  She grinned when I said if she’d back up a little, I’d pull the weed.

“Have at it.  I can usually pull them, but this one must have a root that goes all the way to China.”

I bent over and grabbed the thick stem and pulled.  Madeline was right.  It was stuck pretty fast in the ground and that’s not usual for a button weed.  They have just one main root so they usually come out pretty easily even when they’re big.  For some reason, this one was being stubborn.  I did get it pulled but it took some effort.  

When I tossed it between the rows, I told Madeline if she got any more that were too hard to pull to just yell at me and I’d come do it.  Part of the reason I told her that was if she was going to have trouble pulling many weeds, I’d be back at the truck before she got to the far end of the field.  The other reason was I’d been taught that a man should help a woman do things she wasn’t strong enough to do.

I had to help Madeline a few more times on that first pass, and each time the weed was tough to pull.  The worst were the milkweeds and thistles.  It was impossible to pull up a milkweed without getting the white sticky sap on your hands and pulling thistles was like pulling a porcupine.  Madeline had brought a pair of leather gloves like I had, and they helped with the sap and the stickers on the thistles, but if the thistle was very big, you still got stuck on the arms.

Soybeans are bushy plants and the leaves collect a lot of dew during the night.  That dew stays on the leaves until the sun is hot enough to evaporate it.  That usually doesn’t happen for an hour or so, so the first pass or two through a field anytime you brush up against a soybean plant, that dew comes off and soaks into your pants.  By the time we’d finished that first round, both Madeline and I were soaked from the waist down.

When Madeline got a drink from the big cooler, she drank the paper cup in one gulp and then filled it up again.  She took a smaller gulp and then laughed.

“I don’t remember getting this wet when I walked beans as a kid.  I feel like I took a bath in these clothes.”

I shrugged.

“It’s about like I remember it from every other year at this time.  You’ll dry out in a couple hours.  Then you’ll be wishing you were wet again because it’ll get hot.”

Madeline took another drink and then smiled.

“I do remember the sun.  That’s why I put suntan lotion on this morning.  I’ll bet it’s all washed off now though.  I better go put more on.”

With that, she walked up to the cab of the truck and got a bottle of suntan lotion from under the front seat.  

Well, Madeline may have been in her forties, but she still had great legs, and watching her smear suntan lotion all over them was having an effect on me.  My cock wasn’t hard, but it was thinking about getting that way.  When she started putting suntan lotion on her shoulders and down inside her tank top, there was no stopping it.  I just sat there on the ground in the shade of the truck and hoped she didn’t notice.

When she finished, she put the suntan lotion back in the truck and said we should probably get started again.  She didn’t have to say it twice.  I was in the next four rows and five feet ahead of her before she got started.  About twenty feet and a bunch of weeds later, my cock was back to soft.

That’s how it went for the next four hours or so.  We’d walk the half-mile to the end of the field, turn around and come back, and then get a drink.  Madeline would put on more suntan lotion and I’d try not to watch.  That was impossible though.  She’d sit down and spread her legs wide to put the lotion on the inside of her thighs, and when she moved her hand up to the leg of her shorts, they’d sort of open enough I could get a brief glimpse of her pink panties.

Madeline drove us to town for lunch, and about one we were back to hoeing soybeans.  It was hot as hell then because the sun was still almost overhead and I’d sweat through my T-shirt by the time we finished one round.  If I’d been with a bunch of guys, I’d have taken it off for the rest of the day.  Since it was just me and Madeline, I wasn’t sure if I should or not.

Madeline answered that question for me.

“”Roger, your shirt is soaked with sweat.  Why don’t you take it off?  If you do, you’ll be cooler.”

I said I’d thought about it but didn’t know what she’d think.  She just laughed.

“Roger, I’ve been married twice and I’ve seen a man without his shirt on before.  You won’t shock me or anything.”

Well, I peeled that T-shirt off over my head and draped it over the truck bed so it would dry out by the time we quit for the day.  Madeline didn’t say anything other than we should get back to the field.

I was cooler without the shirt.  I was still sweating, but there was enough of a breeze I was cooler.  I could tell that Madeline was struggling though.  I’d never though about a woman sweating because none of the women I’d known ever did anything that could make them sweat.  Madeline had sweat stains on her tank top under her arms and under her breasts.

When we got back to the truck after that round, Madeline looked at me and frowned.

“Roger, I’m about to melt and run out my shoes.  If I take of this tank top, can you behave yourself?”

Well, how do you answer something like that?  I knew what would happen if I saw her in just her bra and she probably wouldn’t like that.  If I said I didn’t think I could behave myself, she’d think I was probably dangerous to be around.  If I said I could, she’d think I probably didn’t like the way she looked.

All I could think of was to say that I’d seen girls at the beach wearing bikinis so it wouldn’t bother me.

Well, I had seen girls at the beach in bikinis, but they didn’t look like Madeline in just her white bra.  Madeline had a lot bigger breasts for one thing, and for another, her bra didn’t cover them up very well.  She had a lot of cleavage showing and the tops of her breasts were bare too.

It got worse when she got her bottle of suntan lotion again and put it on her breasts, and then tried to put it on her back.  I was going nuts watching the way her heavy breasts moved around when she rubbed in the suntan lotion.  I wasn’t at all ready when she asked me if I’d put some on her back.  

“I can’t reach back far enough.  Could you… I mean, if you don’t want to I’ll understand, but I don’t want to get sunburned either.”

I couldn’t really tell her no, because I knew if I didn’t help her, she’d be burned to a crisp by the end of the day.  I already had a good tan from baling hay, but Madeline was as white as a sheet.

Now, Madeline wasn’t the first woman I’d helped with her suntan lotion.  Most girls who went to the local beach wanted a guy to do it for them.  I think it was their way of fishing for the guy they wanted to get to know better.  I’d done it and it was fun.  Putting lotion on Madeline was an entirely different story.

If we hadn’t been alone in that field, it might have felt the same, but I doubt it.  After watching her smooth suntan lotion up the inside of her thighs and inside her shorts for most of the day and then seeing her heavy breasts nestled in her bra, as soon as I touched her my cock got hard.

I was doing all right with her shoulders, but when I got below her bra band, Madeline sighed.

“Roger, you have nice hands.  Your girlfriend probably thinks so too.”

I said I didn’t have a girlfriend and she said she didn’t believe me.  When I told her I was telling the truth, she asked my why I didn’t have one.

The truth was that all the girls I thought I might like were into the sports guys.  I wasn’t good at any sport.  I was good at math and science, and the girls all thought I was weird.  When I told Madeline that, she laughed.

“Give them about five years and they’ll change their tune.  I was like that when I was in high school, and I ended up marrying the captain of the football team.  I thought it would be fun, but it wasn’t.  He never got over not being the star player, not even after he got fired from three different jobs for not working with the other people.  It was always only about him.  I didn’t count.  

“The daughter we had together didn’t seem to count either.  I ended up divorcing him after three years.  He drives a semi now so he doesn’t have to work with anybody else.  According to Stacey, he’s doing OK.  Stacey doesn’t like his wife, but she says they drive together and seem to be happy.

“I did better in some ways.  I married a man with a great job who makes enough money we can afford for me to take care of the farm and not really worry about if the farm is making a profit.  If it doesn’t one year, that just becomes a tax deduction.  The problem with his job is he’s gone a lot.  He’s a Regional Sales Manager for a farm equipment company who oversees the dealerships all over the Midwest that carry his company’s products.  He leaves home on Sunday afternoon and doesn’t get home until late Friday night.

“That was OK as long as Stacey was living at home.  She started college two years ago though, and now I’m by myself most of the time.”

Madeline chuckled then.

“I have some really interesting conversations with Brucey.  He’s our cat.  Brucey doesn’t ever say much back, but he’s a very good listener if I rub his back while I’m talking to him.  I guess he’s like any male.  He’ll put up with anything if a woman touches him once in a while.”

I didn’t quite know what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything.  I’d also finished putting the suntan lotion on Madeline’s back, so I stood up and said the weeds were waiting for us.  Without waiting for her to say anything, I picked up my hoe and started toward the field.

Madeline didn’t say much when we took a water break on the next few rounds.  In fact, she didn’t say much of anything until she looked at her watch and said the next round would be all we’d do for the day.  She was pretty quiet when she put her tank top back on and then drove us back to the house.  When she parked the truck, she looked over at me and asked if I’d be back in the morning.

I said I’d be there as long as it took for us to finish up her beans, and that made her smile.

“I thought maybe seeing an old woman in just her bra might have scared you enough you’d quit.  I really do need your help.  Same time, OK?”

That night, I was thinking about what Madeline had said about being an old woman.  She didn’t seem exactly old to me.  My grandmother was old.  Mrs. Bailey who ran the cash register at the grocery store was old.  Madeline was…

I don’t quite know how to explain what Madeline was.  She was certainly mature and she didn’t have the body of a young woman, but she wasn’t fat like my grandmother and Mrs. Bailey.  She was just really erotic in a lot of ways that I hadn’t experienced before.  

The girls I went to high school with had breasts that looked firm and sat pretty high on their chests, but they weren’t very big.  Their butts were round, but pretty small compared to Madeline’s butt.  I never got the chance to see or feel either when I was in high school, but when I saw them at the beach in their bikini’s that’s how their breasts and butts looked.  

Madeline had breasts that looked really big in comparison, and though I couldn’t really see her butt, in her shorts it looked wide and soft.  I’d spent a whole day getting a stiff cock every time we stopped for a drink and a rest, and Madeline hadn’t really been any less dressed than the girls at the beach.

The next morning at ten till seven I drove up to Madeline’s farm.  She was already out by her truck and waiting for me.  Like the day before, I carried to cooler from her back porch to the truck.

Madeline didn’t seem very talkative when we stopped for a drink after that first round through the field.  She just got a cup of water from the cooler and then sat down.  It looked to me like she had something on her mind because she just stared off into the distance.  She didn’t say anything when she finished her cup of water.  The just got her suntan lotion from the truck and put it on her legs and shoulders again.

By the time we finished a third round through the field, I’d had all I could take.  When Madeline was getting her drink I asked her what was wrong.

“Maddy, you haven’t said two words all morning.  Have I done something that made you mad at me?”

Madeline shook her head and she was frowning.

“No, Roger, you haven’t done anything wrong.  I just…well…you probably wouldn’t understand even if I told you, so I won’t.”

At that point in my life I hadn’t yet learned much about women.  I hadn’t even had many dates with girls my own age.  One thing I did know from Mom was that women often keep things bottled up inside them until they can’t anymore and that results in them being depressed until they can let it out to somebody.  

I figured the best way for Madeline to feel better was to talk about it, and that’s what I told her.

“Madeline, when I have something bothering me, it always helps me if I can tell somebody what it is.  They can’t fix it usually, but just explaining it seems to help.  I may not understand, but I’ll listen.”

Madeline looked at me for what seemed like a long time before she said anything.  When she did, I was sorry I’d pushed her into doing it.

“Roger, do you think I’m a woman most men would like?”

Looking back now, my answer was dumb, but like I said, I didn’t have much experience with women then.

“Sure.  You seem to be a nice woman.”

Madeline frowned.

“That’s not what I mean.  What I mean is would …would a man like to be with me?”

I still didn’t understand what Madeline was really asking me.

“I’m a man and I’ve liked being with you so far.”

Madeline looked at the ground for a few seconds and then looked at me with a really strange look on her face.  It was like she was afraid of hearing the answer I was going to give her.

“Roger, what I’m asking is…God, I never thought I’d ever ask a boy something like this.  You’ll think I’m horrible.  Would a man want to sleep with me?”

Well, it dawned on me then what Madeline really wanted to know.  I didn’t know why she’d ask me that question, but she had.  If I told her what I’d been thinking all day the day before, she’d think I was some sex pervert and probably fire me.  I chose my words as carefully as I could.

“Well, Maddy, yes, I think most men would like that.  You’re a pretty woman.”

She smiled a little then.

“You’re not telling me what you really think are you?  I saw what happened to you yesterday after I took off my top.  Don’t worry about that.  It was just Nature doing what Nature does.  I want you to be honest with me.  Did you think about…about having sex with me?”

So, she had seen me trying to hide my stiff cock.  I couldn’t think of any way to deny that.

“I’m sorry, Maddy.  I couldn’t help it.  It just happened all by itself and it kept happening every time I got close to you.”

Maddy sighed then.

“I wish my husband felt like that.  I mean, I know I don’t look like I did when I was twenty four, but I didn’t think I was that bad.  I used to think it was because Stacey was still living at home, but she’s been away at college all year and he still hasn’t touched me.  All I could think of was it must be me.  If I could make you want that though, then maybe it isn’t me.  Maybe it’s just him.  Do you think he might have another woman somewhere?”

Like I would know that since I didn’t know her husband at all.  I said what I thought would make Madeline feel better.  I said I doubted it since he had her to come home to.  That made her smile.

“I don’t know if I believe you or not, but I do feel a little better.  Now, we’ve been sitting her for almost half an hour.  We need to get back to those beans.”

Madeline seemed to be happier the next time we took a break, and she seemed happy with we went to the diner for lunch.  When we came back, she parked her truck under a big tree that stood next to the field, she said so we’d have some shade when we took a break.  When we got out, she reached behind the seat and took out a blanket.  After she spread it out in the shade beside the truck, she looked up at me and grinned.

“Today, I’m not gonna get all sweaty like yesterday.  I wore a bikini so I could strip down and be cool.  I’ll need your help with my suntan lotion again.”

Well, I just stood there and let my cock get stiff when Madeline pulled the tank top over her head and then unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts and let them fall to her feet.  

Her bikini wasn’t as skimpy as what I’d seen girls wearing at the beach, but then, Madeline had a lot more to cover than any of those girls did.  When she stepped out of her shorts and put them on the seat of the truck, she looked at me and grinned again.

“I bought this hoping it would convince Jason that I was still sexy.  It didn’t work, but I still feel sexy when I put it on.  Come do my back for me now.”

I thought Madeline would sit on the blanket but instead, she laid down on her stomach.  Believe me when I say that putting suntan lotion on Madeline when she was laying down in a bikini was a lot different than the day before.  For one thing, there was a lot more of her back to do because her bikini bottoms didn’t come up as high on her waist as her shorts had.  For another, those bikini bottoms had sort of slipped into her butt crack so it was almost like she was naked.

I started at her shoulders and Madeline sighed again.

“God that feels good.”

She didn’t say anything else until I got down to the band of the bikini to that went around her chest.  I was staying away from it so I wouldn’t get suntan lotion all over it.  After a while Madeline giggled.

“If you’re having trouble, just undo the hooks, put the lotion on me and then fasten them again.”

I’m sure my hands were shaking when I unfastened the two hooks and let the band fall to her sides.  I know they were shaking when I smoothed suntan lotion over the place where that band had been.  I also had to change how I was sitting because my cock was so stiff it was starting to hurt.

I forgot to fasten that band back after that, and started on Madeline’s lower back.  I was doing all right until I got down to the swell of her hips.  That’s when Madeline murmured, “While you’re down there, would you do the back of my legs I was down to the start of her bikini bottom when she quietly asked, “Would you do the back of my legs too?  It’s hard for me to tell if I’ve gotten lotion everywhere because I can’t see them.”

I was having second thoughts about that.  I mean, doing Madeline’s back was one thing, but to do her legs, I’d be getting really close to the butt cheeks that her bikini bottom didn’t cover all the way and there was no way I could avoid touching the inside of her thighs.  Just thinking about that seemed to make my cock a little harder.  I started at her ankles to be safe and to give myself time to think.  That lasted until I got to Madeline’s right knee.  As soon as I touched the soft skin on the back side of that knee, Madeline moaned and opened up her legs.

Before that, I’d been looking at her butt.  After that I was looking at the little pouch thing that covered the lips between her thighs and it looked like that little pouch was full.  I could also see a few dark brown hairs sticking out from that little pouch.  I had to rearrange my cock again.

Madeline didn’t say anything when I stopped to do that.  She just stayed still.  When I started back up her right leg again, she moaned again and spread her legs apart a little more.

By then, it was obvious to me that I wasn’t just putting suntan lotion on Madeline.  What was really happening was she was letting me arouse her.  There was a popular saying among the guy in high school that once a woman has had sex, she wants to have sex all the time and the longer she goes without having sex, the hornier she gets.  As the saying went, all you had to do was touch her somewhere and she’d be hot to trot.

I’d never really believed that, not until that day, but I was believing it when I was working on the back of Madeline’s thighs.  She kept making these little moans like women were supposed to make when they were excited and once in a while, she’d sort of close her legs and then open them up again.

I finished the back of Madeline’s legs and remembered I hadn’t fastened her top again.  When I started to do that, Madeline just rolled over and looked at me with a look I’d never seen before.  Her eyes were half closed and her lips were parted a little.  Her voice was soft and husky when she said, “Why don’t you do my front too?  I’d love it if you would.”

I knew where she was going with this.  I just didn’t have much of an idea about how to start.  Madeline fixed that too.  I’d started putting lotion on her shoulders when she pulled the bikini top down her arms and then gently guided my hands to her breasts.

The way her breasts sort of just slipped away when I stroked the suntan lotion over them was amazing.  What was more amazing was the way Madeline’s nipples swelled up.  They got a lot longer and thicker and there were little ridges on the sides.  When I touched one with a fingertip, Madeline caught her breath and then whispered, “I like that.  Do it some more.”

I did do it more.  I did it a lot more.  It was fun to push Madeline’s stiff nipple to the side and then hear her moan when my finger slipped off and her nipple snapped back up.  

I was really enjoying what I was doing to Madeline too.  It was the first time I’d actually touched a bare breast and the first time I’d heard a woman moan when I did.  It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

I’d never experienced a woman sliding her hand inside my jeans either, but that’s what Madeline did a little later.  I wasn’t in a position where she could get her hand very far though.  She tried, and then opened her eyes and looked at me.

“Roger, I want this to happen.  If you don’t I can understand, but I hope you want me as much as I want you.  If you do, take off your clothes so I can touch you too.”

Well, when you’re a young guy and you have a half naked woman lying in front of you, you’ll do things you wouldn’t even consider when you’re older.  It was easy to strip off my T-shirt, but harder to take off my jeans.  If Madeline hadn’t smiled when I got my jeans off and then hooked her thumbs in her bikini bottoms and pulled them off her legs, I might have chickened out with my underwear.  Once she did that and I saw the bush of brown hair on her mound, there was no turning back.  I stripped off my underwear and laid down beside her.

Madeline looked at me, smiled, and then whispered, “Kiss me Roger”.  

I didn’t have the slightest idea about how to kiss a woman, but I tried, and Madeline did the rest.  I put my lips on hers and felt a zing race down my spine.  She pushed her tongue between my lips then and I felt another zing that collided with the sensation of her small, soft hand closing around my rigid cock.  That caused me to gasp a little, and as soon as I opened my mouth, Madeline pushed her tongue inside and found my tongue.  I’d though that first zing was something else, but it wasn’t anything like when she started gently stroking my cock.

When she gently pushed my away, Madeline took my hand and moved it down until I felt hair under my fingertips.  She didn’t have to tell me what she wanted.  Dad had explained all that.  What he hadn’t explained is what sliding my finger inside Madeline would make her do.  I had it in only about half way when Madeline gasped, raised herself up enough to make my finger slide all the way inside her wet depths, and then murmered, “Oh God, I’ve missed this so much.”

Once I was sliding my finger in and out, Madeline put her hand on the back of my head and pulled me down to kiss her again.  Between that kiss and her hand stroking my cock, things were getting out of hand.  I mean, Dad had told me what to do, but he’d also said if I went any further I needed a rubber so the girl wouldn’t get pregnant.  I was ready, except I wasn’t because I didn’t have a rubber.

I didn’t say anything until Madeline whispered, “I need you and I’m ready”, and tried to get me between her thighs.  I said I wanted to but I didn’t have anything.  Madeline just smiled.  

“I already took care of that, so don’t worry about it.  Just make me feel like a woman again."

I don’t know how Madeline felt when my cock entered her, but I know it was the most exquisite feeling I’d ever had.  It was like sliding my cock into a snug, but warm and slippery place that sort of wrapped itself around my shaft.  That first stroke was so fantastic I groaned.  

Madeline moaned when my cock went in, and moved her hips a little.  My cock had been at a weird angle before she did that, but once she had, moving my cock in and out was pure heaven.  In fact, it was so exciting, I could probably have shot my load after a couple strokes.

Somewhere I’d read that women take longer than men and that it was better if both came at about the same time, so I concentrated on letting myself feel what was going on, but not enough to tip me over the edge.

I was almost successful in doing that.  Madeline was a snug fit but slippery enough I could manage if I stopped once in a while.  That lasted until she pulled my face down so she could kiss me again, and at the same time our tongues met, she moaned into my mouth and jerked her hips up.  I was stroking in at the time, and that thrust of her hips buried my cock in her enough my balls bumped her butt cheeks.

Madeline held herself up with her legs for a few seconds, then gasped and fell back down on the blanket.  That made my cock slip out, so I pushed it back inside her.  When I did that, Madeline made a little cry and raised us both up that time.  She closed her thighs around my waist when she started to quiver, and that was all I could take.  I pushed my cock inside her as far as it would go just as the first spurt of cum raced up my shaft.

I don’t know if she felt that, but she knew somehow because she whispered, “I’m right behind you.  Don’t stop.”

Well, I didn’t stop, not even after I’d gasped at each of the four spurts that I pumped into Madeline.  I think it was about six strokes after that that Madeline dug her nails into my back, raised up a little higher, and then hung there shaking and moaning while I stroked my cock in and out.

It took Madeline a while to ease back down on the blanket, and when she did, she pulled me down on top of her.  She didn’t say anything.  She just nestled her cheek against mine and kissed me on the neck a couple times.  When my cock finally slipped out of her, she chuckled.

“If I’d known this was gonna be this good, I’d have done it yesterday.  Maybe you’d like to do it again, after we quit for the day?”

Madeline cleaned herself up a little while I put my clothes back on, and then got dressed.  Just before she picked up her hoe, she looked at her watch, and then grinned at me.

“We have time for two more rounds.  After that, can you make me feel this way again?”

Well, after that two rounds, I did, and this time it was better.  I knew now what Madeline liked so I did that.  She did surprise me by pushing my face down to her breast after I’d kissed her.  She didn’t say anything when she did that.  She just held my face there with one hand and lifted her breast with the other until her rigid nipple was brushing my lips.  I found out that sucking on a woman’s nipple is really neat because of what it does to her.

Like the time before, I came a little before Madeline did, but she didn’t seem to mind.  I think she might have cum harder the second time.

I went to bed that night feeling like I’d really done something.  I was a man now in every sense of the word because I’d had sex with a woman and I’d made her cum.  I wondered if that would be just the start.  I figured we had about another four day’s work to get through Madeline’s beans.  I was hoping at least a few of those days she’d lay her blanket out on the ground and we’d have sex again.

The next morning all those hopes evaporated because Madeline had another woman with her.  The woman was younger, maybe about my age, and she looked a lot like Madeline.  Madeline introduced her as her daughter Stacey.

“Roger, this is my daughter Stacey.  She had a few things to do at college, but now she’s home with me and she’s going to help us finish up that field of beans.”

To me, what that meant was I wouldn’t be having sex with Madeline again.  I was disappointed, but I still shook Stacey’s hand and said I was happy to have some help.  She just grinned and said she didn’t know much about weeding soybeans, but she’d try.

Stacey did need some help on that first round.  I took the four rows on the left, Madeline took the four rows on the left and Stacey took two rows between us.  She kept up with us both, but that was mostly because she kept asking me if she was looking at a weed or a bean plant.  By the time we’d finished that round, she’d stopped asking me and was pulling weeds just like Madeline and I were.

When we stopped for a water break, I learned more about Stacey.  She was going to be a junior at the U of I, the same college where I’d been accepted for the next semester, and her major was Pre-Vet.  When I said I’d never thought a woman would go into that field, she just smiled.

“I guess I take after Grandpa Donaldson.  He farmed corn and soybeans, but he kept some cattle and a few horses too just because he liked animals.  When I came to visit them, he’d take me out to the barn and teach me all about how to take care of them.  The cows were OK, but I loved the horses.  

I was there when he called out a vet to help one of his horses have her foal.  She’d been trying for most of the morning and Grandpa was worried he’d lose both the mare and the foal.  I got to watch the vet pull that foal out of the mare and it was still alive.  I got to help him rub the foal down with straw and then watched the mare coax the foal up to nurse.  I thought it was fantastic how that all worked.

I decided that was something I’d like to do.  By the way, half my class are women.  It seems that a lot of guys don’t want to put in the eight years it takes to become a vet.”

We talked a little about me too.  I told her I was going to be a mechanical engineer and had been accepted at the U of I, and maybe we’d run into each other the next semester.  She said she’d like that.

The rest of the day was pretty much the same.  I was disappointed but couldn’t show it.  When I went home that night, I’d given up all hope of ever having sex with Madeline again.

That made the next day a little easier.  I wasn’t expecting anything, so I concentrated on getting through that field as fast as possible.  I figured if I wasn’t just with Madeline, I wouldn’t be thinking about what we done, and the fastest way to get there was to finish that field.

It was working until after lunch.  We ate at the diner in town, but Madeline didn’t drive back to the field.  Instead she stopped in the barn lot.

“Stacey, I have to go to town to get some things, so you and Roger will have to go it alone this afternoon.  You take the truck to the field and I’ll take my car into town.  I’ll be back with you tomorrow.”

That afternoon started out about normal.  Stacey said she could weed four rows now, so that’s how the first round went.  I was checking on the way back through the field and it didn’t look like she’d missed any weeds.  It was when we stopped for a water break that things changed.

Stacey got a cup of water like I did, and then sat down in the shade of the truck.  When I did the same thing, she asked me what I thought of her mother.

Well, I couldn’t very well tell Stacey that her mother had introduced me to sex and that I thought her mother was the most erotic woman I’d ever met.  Instead I just shrugged.

“She’s a nice woman and she works hard.”

Stacey gave me a knowing grin.

“That’s not what I asked you.”

I tried to play dumb.

“Well, what were you really asking me then.”

Stacey smiled.

“What I was really asking is if you liked screwing my mother?  She said she really liked it.  She said the second time was better than the first, but the first was really nice too.”

“She told you that?”

Stacey grinned again.

“Not at first.  I had to drag it out of her, but she finally did tell me because I’m the only one she could tell something like that to.  Don’t be upset.  I think it’s great that she got screwed.  Jason hasn’t touched her in years.  She must have been wound up tight as a two dollar watch.  She’s a lot more relaxed now.  That’s how I knew.”

Well, to say I was embarrassed would be the understatement of the year.  It was embarrassing enough that somebody else knew, let alone Madeline’s daughter.  I tried to explain.

“Stacey, it wasn’t something I set out to do.  It just sort of happened. I’m not sorry it did, but that’s about the extent of it.  It just happened, that’s all, and I doubt it will ever happen again.”

Stacey frowned then.

“If it doesn’t, Mom’s going to turn back into the bundle of nerves she was at Christmas.  I don’t know why Jason can’t do her when he’s home, but he doesn’t seem interested, or at least that what Mom tells me.  I think she’s pretty sexy for her age.  She’s not fat and she has big boobs like all you guys seem to like.”

I was astonished.

“You want me to keep having sex with your mother?”

Stacey smiled.

“You need to understand some things about my mother.  Mom married my dad because she thought he was a real man.  She told me they had sex twice a day and she loved it.  Mom divorced him because he couldn’t hold a steady job and she married Jason because he could, but it wasn’t the same.  Jason is…well, he makes a lot of money and he gives Mom everything she wants, but he never really had much of a sex drive.  I keep telling Mom there’s nothing wrong with her and that it’s just how Jason is, but she thinks she’s getting old and fat and she’s not desirable anymore.

“I just want Mom to be happy, and she’s the happiest I’ve seen her in years.  The only thing that’s changed is you.”

I said I didn’t think I wanted to be around if Madeline’s husband found out, and Stacey just laughed.

“I’m not gonna tell him and Mom isn’t either, but I don’t think he’d really care.  He likes to take Mom to company stuff because she looks great in a dress and heels  and she’s a perfect lady in public.  I think that’s really the reason he married her.  She’s like the icing on his cake.”

I shook my head then.

“Even if you don’t care and he doesn’t, I don’t know how I’d keep doing it.  We’ll finish this field in a day or so with you helping, and after that, I probably won’t be coming back here.”

Stacey just smiled.

“Do you ever bale hay?”

Well, it turned out that what Stacey had been doing at the U of I at the end of the semester was buying a two-year old Arabian gelding that the Ag department had for sale.  Madeline knew she was going to do that, so she’d planted an acre in timothy so she’d have hay for the winter.  She’d already made one cutting and had hired a local farmer to cut and bale it and put it in the barn but that had cost her more than she wanted to pay.  What Madeline had been doing in town while Stacey and I were hoeing beans was buying a used sicklebar mower and a hay rake.

The rest of that summer was a lot different than the ones before.  Madeline’s acre of hay was ready for the second cutting a day after we finished up her beans.  She mowed it using her mower and raked it into windrows.  A couple days later, she turned it over with her hay rake to let the bottom of the windrow dry out.  During that week, I’d baled hay for another farmer, so I was still making money.  

Madeline called me Sunday afternoon and said she’d called the baler and he’d be there on Monday and could I come out and help her.

One acre only yields about a hundred bales of hay, so with Madeline pulling a rack wagon behind her tractor, Stacey staking bales on the wagon, and me on the ground picking up bales and putting them on the wagon, we cleared the field in a day.  The next day, we started to put them in Madeline’s haymow using her dad’s old corn dump.  

A corn dump is a sort of conveyor that farmers used to put ear corn in a corn crib to dry.  It’s a metal trough about fifty feet or so long with a special chain on each side with metal plates connected to the chains.  Those chains and plates go up the trough and then come back down on the underside.  The ears of corn get dumped into the trough and the metal plates catch it and convey it up to the top of the corn crib where it falls inside.  Corn dumps have a system of wire rope, pulleys and a winch to crank them up to the top of the corn crib.

Corn dumps also happen to be about the right width to hold a bale of hay, and the flights, the metal plates between the chains on each side, will drag the bale along with them.  Most were driven by a shaft connected to the corn dump and the PTO of the tractor with universal joints on each end.  The problem with Madeline’s corn dump was that her dad hadn’t used it in at least five years.  That was when the last corn sheller within twenty miles had at last broken something that couldn’t be fixed.  With no way to shell the ear corn, picking the corn with a combine was the only answer.  The combine did the jobs of both the corn picker and the sheller.

I got the corn dump backed up and cranked up to the door in the haymow and then tried to hook up the shaft between the corn dump and the tractor PTO, but both universal joints were frozen solid with rust.  Madeline went to the local farm equipment dealer for parts while I beat the universal joints apart and polished up the crosses for the new bearings.

Stacey sat and watched me for a while, but then asked me if I’d thought any more about her mother.

“Mom’s getting cranky again.  If I was to need to do something this afternoon, could you fix her?”

I was tapping a bearing out of its yoke with a punch and hammer, and almost hit my hand.  I stopped and looked up at Stacey.  She was smiling.

“I just thought maybe if you had a little time alone with her, you two could…you know.  Mom told me doing it on some fresh hay is pretty nice.”

I had to shake my head.

“Is there anything your mother doesn’t tell you?”

Stacey grinned.

“Not much.  What do you think?  Should I go to town this afternoon?”

I didn’t really know what to say.  I mean, what had happened in that bean field just sort of happened.  I hadn’t planned on it, though I always thought Madeline had.  I looked at Stacey.

“That kind of depends on your mother, doesn’t it?  I’m not about to go asking her if she wants to have sex on a hay bale.  A man shouldn’t put a woman in that position where she has to say yes or no.”

Stacey grinned.

“I don’t think you’ll have to ask her.  All you’ll have to do is be here.  I think I’ll tell her I need some stuff for my horse and ask if she can do without me this afternoon.  Whatever happens, happens.  Just don’t make her feel bad about herself, OK?”

Well, I got the universal joints put back together and greased about eleven.  When I hooked up the corn dump to the tractor PTO, that corn dump sounded like it was going to fly apart, but a little oil on the chains fixed that.  I tried one bale and it made it all the way to the haymow door.  I said I thought it would work for the hundred or so bales on the wagon.

Madeline drove us to the diner for lunch, and she and Stacey talked about the gelding she’d bought.  A guy with a horse trailer was supposed to haul it from the U of I barn to the farm in a week.  That’s when Stacey said she had to find time to buy a curry comb and a brush and a hoof pick.  Madeline smiled and said since we were just putting the hay in the haymow, two could do that as fast as three, so why didn’t she do that today.

Stacey changed clothes as soon as we got back to the farm.  When she walked out to the barn, she told Madeline she’d be back in about two hours.  When Madeline smiled and told Stacey not to hurry, I got the feeling I’d been set up.

After Stacey left, Madeline said she didn’t think she could stack the bales in the barn high enough that there would be enough room left for the next two cuttings of hay.  She said she wouldn’t have trouble unloading the bales from the rack wagon and onto the corn dump if I’d do he work in he barn.  That made sense to me, so I started the tractor and made sure everything was still working and then climbed the ladder to the haymow.

For about half an hour, things went as planned.  Madeline wasn’t as fast as the young guys I usually baled hay with, but she was consistent.  I’d pull a bale off the corn dump with my hay hook, sink my other hook into the other end of the bale and then walk it over to the stack of bales from the first cutting.  

The guy who’d baled her first cutting knew what he was doing and I made sure to leave some space between the bales for air circulation.  More than one barn has burned down because the hay had too much moisture when it was baled.  Moist hay will start to rot and when it does, it generates heat.  If the bales are packed tight, the bales will insulate that spot and the heat can get high enough the hay catches fire.  Leaving a little space between bales lets the moisture get out so that doesn’t happen.

By the time I got back to the corn dump, there would be another bale just about at the top.  That happened for twenty or so bales, but when I went back after that for another bale, the tractor wasn’t running and I didn’t see Madeline on the rack wagon.

I started for the ladder so see if something had broken, and when I looked down, I saw Madeline coming up.  When she stepped onto the haymow floor, she smiled.

“I thought I’d come up and see how you’re doing.  God, it’s hot up here.”

I chuckled.

“Yeah, haymows are always hot in summer.  It’s because most barns have corrugated iron roofs.  That’s good though.  The heat bakes out any moisture that might still be in the bales.”

She walked over to where I’d been stacking bales.  I was taking the bales to the ceiling beams of the barn, so I’d been stair-stepping the stack.  Madeline sat down on the second layer from the floor.

“When I was a little girl, I used to come up her and play that I was a princess and the hay was my castle.  Sounds stupid, right?  It was real to me though, at least I could imagine being a real princess in a real castle.  The only thing I was missing was a Prince Charming.  I dreamed about one, but he never came.”

Madeline looked up at me then and smiled.

“Roger, could you be the Prince Charming who comes to my castle today?”

Well, there it was.  I’d been rehearsing my speech since I stacked the first bale in the haymow.  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to and I figured Stacey and Madeline had planned for this to happen, but what would her husband do if he found out?  It was probably better if we just let that day in the bean field be just something that happened and leave it at that.

All I got out was, “Madeline, it isn’t that I don’t want to”, before Madeline put her face in her hands.

“Roger, you must think I’m a really horrible person, but you don’t understand how it is to live with a man who doesn’t pay any attention to you.  I’ve tried everything I can think of and more than one thing I've read about and nothing works.  I’ve tried dressing in sexy clothes, I’ve tried walking around in my bra and panties, I’ve tried walking around naked…I even tried to get him drunk.  All that happened was I got myself drunk and went to sleep.  I had a hangover the next day.  He was happy as a clam.

“It’s just that a woman need to think a man wants her.  Every woman wants to be wanted by somebody.  When we’re little girls we don’t understand what that means, but it’s something we know we want. That’s why there are fairy tales about princesses in castles waiting for Prince Charming like Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty.  We fantasize about it when we play with our dolls and once we do understand, we fantasize about the real thing.  I’d fantasized about my Prince Charming for years before that day in the bean field.

“I just thought after that day in the bean field, you might want me again.  Roger, I don’t expect you to love me.  All I want is for you to want me, even if it’s just a little.”

I didn’t tell Madeline that boys have the same fantasies once they learn what sex is all about.  I didn’t tell her that that day in the bean field was the best day of my life, the day when I finally understood what can happen between a man and a woman.  All I said was, “Madeline, I don’t think you’re a bad person.  I wanted you that day and it was more than just a little.  I just didn’t know if it was just something that happened or if there was more to it.”

She looked up at me with a half smile.

“Do you really mean that?”

I didn’t answer her.  I just kissed her.  After I pulled away, Madeline started taking off her clothes.  When she was naked, she climbed back up on that second tier of hay bales, laid down on her back, and held out her arms.

Well, if I’d been telling this to one of the guys on a baling crew, I’d probably have said it was good, but no better than the other times.  Guys tend to keep their emotions to themselves and try to convince other guys they know everything about sex.  Actually, I wouldn’t have said anything about having sex with Madeline in the bean field or in the barn.  It was just too special for me to share my feelings with anybody.

I knew more about Madeline’s body and what she liked and what got her the most aroused, so that’s what I did.  I knew she liked to kiss, kisses where our tongues touched, so I did that.  I knew she liked having her big breasts fondled and her nipples stroked so I did that too.  Sucking her nipples worked really good, so I did that until Madeline was moaning every time I sucked one in.

She was already a little wet when I slipped my middle finger inside her, and the low moan and little lurch she made told me I was doing the right thing.  I started moving that finger in and out, and Madeline got wetter and slipperier inside. After a while, she was so slippery that when I slipped my finger out right after she’d arched up a little and then started easing back down, my finger slipped out all the way.  I couldn’t follow her fast enough so my fingertip stroked over her inner lips and then up to a little stiff nub I hadn’t felt before.  

When I brushed that little nub, Madeline lurched and whispered, “Oh God, right there and don’t stop.”  I didn’t really know what I’d touched, but I kept gently rubbing it.  What happened about a minute later took me by surprise.  Madeline started to pant, then held her breath and lifted her hips up.  I kept rubbing that little stiff nub, and about ten seconds later, she let out the breath she’d been holding and started jerking her hips up and down.  A second after that, she cried out and arched up and stayed there while her legs shook and she made these little mewing noises.

A little later she grabbed my hand and whispered, “I need you to stop for a while, Roger.  Just wait a couple minutes and then we’ll take care of you.”

Well, I knew Madeline had just had an orgasm.  I just didn’t know that rubbing that little nub would cause her to do that.  Dad hadn’t said anything about a woman having a place like that.  It was pretty fascinating.  

Madeline just lay there on the hay bales with her eyes closed for a while.  When she opened them again, she smiled.

“Now it’s your turn, but do what you were doing before too.”

I nibbled Madeline’s right nipple and slipped my finger inside her then.  When she didn’t tell me to stop, I started moving my finger in and out like before, but about every fourth stroke, I’d move up and rub that little button again.  I knew it was working when Madeline started rocking her body up and down again.  

She started stroking my rigid cock then, but not to hard or too fast.  It was just enough to drive me crazy with the need to put my cock inside her again.  It wasn’t very long before Madeline said she wanted that too.  She opened her thighs wide and pulled gently on my cock, then whispered, “I’m ready again.”

I don’t know if it was because she’d already had an orgasm or what, but it didn’t take many strokes of my cock until Madeline was either digging her nails into my back or pulling on my hips to get me deeper inside her.  I was trying to slow down because it felt too good to just make a few strokes and then cum, but Madeline wasn’t helping me do that.  

It got harder to hold on when she rolled her face to the side and murmured, “I’m so close.  Don’t stop.”

I couldn’t have stopped if my life had depended on it.  I was still trying to go slow and that was working until Madeline said what she said.  The next few strokes were pretty slow, but then Madeline started lifting herself up every time I stroked inside her and then dropped again before I could pull all the way out.  I’d get my cock about half way out of her when she’d moan and jerk her body up again and bury my cock inside her.  

I sped up to keep pace with her, and she just got faster and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer.  She was just too tight and all those little moans were getting to me.  Just when I was ready to let go, Madeline gasped, murmured, “Oh, God, now”, and dug her nails into my butt cheeks.  I don’t remember stroking much after that.  All I remember is the sensation of cum racing up my cock and inside Madeline while her whole body writhed under me.

When I stopped gasping for air, I tried to pull my cock out of Madeline, but she held onto my butt cheeks.

“Just stay like this for a while, Roger.  I like how it feels to have you inside me.”

I did stay there with my cock inside Madeline, but it fell out a minute or so later.  When it did, Madeline stroked my back and whispered, “Thank you, Roger, for making me feel this way.  We should probably get back to work though.  Stacey will be back soon.”

Stacey showed up about an hour later, and in that hour, Madeline and I had unloaded about half of the rack wagon.  Stacy went to the house first, and when she came back, she was dressed in her working jeans and T-shirt again.  

She looked at the rack wagon and then at me.

“God you two are slow.  I think I better help you or it’ll be midnight before you finish.  Roger, I’ll help Mom.  You stack the barn.”

She winked at me then, and I knew she knew.

I spent most of the rest of the summer working for Madeline.  Once the guy brought Stacey’s gelding to the farm, she had about a hundred things she wanted changed in the barn.  She wanted a feed bin in one of the box stalls, so I built one.  Then she wanted a rack built with slats to put hay in so I built that.  We also made two more cuttings of hay off that one acre and the three of us did all the work of getting it into the barn.

It seemed as if about once a week, Stacey would have to go to town to do something while I was working there.  On those days, Madeline would come out to wherever I was working and ask how I was doing.  I’d say I was doing fine and she’d ask if I was too busy to help her with something.

That something always ended up with Madeline having one orgasm I caused with my fingertip on her clit and then another with my cock buried inside her.  Usually, it was in the haymow, but a couple times, she said she couldn’t wait.  One of those times I was fixing the door on the box stall and Madeline just took off her clothes and bent over and held on to the side of the stall.

It was fun playing with her breasts when they hung down.  It was fun having to almost hold her up when she had that first orgasm with my finger.  It was really exciting to see her arch her back and spread her legs when she was ready for me to enter her.  Her hair-fringed lips would spread open then and I could see how wet she was.  Entering her that way was another experience in sensations because the angle was different.  It was also different because right before Madeline came, her legs started to give way.  I had to hold her up while she panted and shook out the orgasm while I was cumming hard inside her.

Well, like all summers do, that summer came to an end.  I started my first semester at the U of I right after Labor Day as did Stacey.  She’d turned twenty-one over the summer so she’d rented an apartment, and she’d already arranged for a phone.  She gave me the address and her phone number, and said when I got my dorm room and phone number to give her a call.

I did make that call and gave Stacey my own phone number.  I also went to her apartment for a pizza one Saturday night after my second week of classes.  Stacey said she wanted us to stay close because she didn’t have many friends.  I could understand that because I didn’t either.  I was studying my ass off and I figured she was too because neither of us were taking courses that could ever be considered easy.

That Saturday night was pretty neat.  Stacey bought a frozen pizza and I brought a six-pack of sodas.  We talked while the pizza was baking, and I asked how Madeline was doing.  Stacey frowned.

“About like always.  She misses you.  She’ll call me tomorrow and ask how our date went.”

I was a little astonished by that.

“She thinks we’re having a date?”

Stacey grinned.

“Mom called me last night and that’s when I told her you were coming over.  She’s the one who called it a date.  I didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t.  She wants me to find a guy and get married, but she wants me to find a nice guy who’ll care about me, not a guy like the two she married.  She thinks you’re that kind of guy.  I couldn’t just say I was asking you over to be nice, so I didn’t tell her any different.

“Besides, you’re a safe date.  I know you and I know you wouldn’t do anything to me.  That’s more than I can say about half the guys here.  The others wouldn’t do anything to me either, but they’re all nerds.  You’re a pretty nice guy and you can make and fix things.”

After that Saturday, Stacey and I got together every Saturday or Sunday, sometimes both.  Sometimes we’d just stay at her apartment and watch TV.  Sometimes we'd do something that didn’t cost much, like walk through a flea market or go shopping for things we couldn’t afford to buy.  Little by little, I was starting to really like Stacey.  She was a lot like her mother in that she was really nice, but she also had a sort of free spirit she didn’t show to anybody but me.  I liked that a lot.

I suppose I should have expected it, but it was still a surprise when Stacey called me the next Friday night and asked if I was busy on Saturday at lunchtime.

“Mom wants to come see me, and she asked if I could ask you to come over too.  She wants to take us to lunch and then come back and see my apartment.  I uh…I told her that would work except that I have to go do some research at the library right after lunch.  I know it’s a lot to ask, but I can’t take Mom to the library with me.  Could you stay with her while I’m gone?”

That started two semesters of Madeline coming to visit Stacey once a month or so on days when Stacey just happened to have something else to do.  That left me and Madeline alone in Stacey’s apartment for at least two hours, usually three.  

I knew they were setting things up so I could have sex with Madeline again, but it didn’t bother me.  I liked Madeline and the more I was with her, the more I liked her.  It wasn’t what I’d call love, at least not like I thought my dad loved my mom.  It was more of just a strong like for a woman who was a real lady in public and fantastic at sex in private.

By the end of the first semester, I was getting pretty sure of three things.  

Becoming an engineer was going to mean studying hard six days a week, but it was very satisfying to finally understand why things worked like they did.  I knew I’d made the right choice for my career.

I was also sure that I really liked having sex with Madeline because she never asked anything more of me.  She never said anything about wanting more time with me or that she’d thought about leaving her husband for me.  All she wanted was sex with no strings from either of us.  

The last thing I was getting sure of is that Stacey was becoming a lot more than just Madeline’s daughter and a good friend.  She was very smart, a quality I hadn’t found in many girls before, and she was a real lady just like her mother.  I started looking forward to weekends with her and not just the weekends when Madeline came to visit.  Those weekends were fantastic, but it was great to just go somewhere with Stacey or just stay in her apartment and watch TV.  A few times, we even stayed in her apartment and studied.  

I was taking a chemistry class and was finding it hard to understand.  Stacey had already taken the class and had a way of explaining reactions that I wasn’t getting from either the professor of the TA.  I helped her out with her statistics class because I understood math better than she did.

It was Thanksgiving when I found out that Stacey felt the same way about me.  We were both going home for Thanksgiving day, but coming back that night because we both had some serious tests to study for.  

I ate Thanksgiving dinner with Mom and Dad, visited a little, and then drove back to my dorm room.  About eight that night, Stacey called me.

“Roger, Mom cooked the whole works including a huge turkey and dressing and a bunch of other stuff.  She sent half of the leftovers home with me.  Would you like to come over on Friday and have another Thanksgiving dinner?  I probably have enough for dinner on Saturday and Sunday too.”

Dinner on Friday night went about like all the other times we’d had dinner together.  When we finished, I helped Stacey put everything away and then wash the dishes.  She was wiping down her table when she looked up and said, “I liked tonight better than yesterday at Mom’s.”

I asked her why and she frowned.

“I don’t know why Mom married Jason except that he makes a lot of money.  I don’t like him.  He’s not loving in any way and he might as well have not been there for Thanksgiving dinner.  He didn’t talk to either of us.  He just ate and then went to take a nap and left Mom and me in the kitchen.  I could never live with a man like that and that’s what I told Mom.  She said she’s too old to find another man, but I wasn’t and I should look for a man like you.”

Stacey rinsed out her dishrag, hung it over the sink faucet to dry, and then turned around to face me.  She had half a smile on her face.

“Roger, I’m a lot like my mother in more ways than you know.  There are things I need…the same things you do for my mother.  I’ve had one other man, and he couldn’t make me feel like she says she feels with you.  I told her I was already looking at you and I thought I could be happy with you, but I still had to find out one thing.  I needed to find out if you can make me feel like you make her feel.  She said she understood and that I should find out before you and I go any further so I wouldn’t make the same mistake she made with Jason.”

Since the more I learned about Stacey the more she was indeed like her mother, I probably should have expected her to be pretty direct.  I was both happy that she wanted what she wanted and a little nervous.

“Stacey, are you sure about this?  I mean, you want to even though you know about me and your mother?”

Stacey walked over and put her arms around my neck.

“I want to enough that I’ve been taking birth control pills since I met you that first day.  Mom said if I liked you like I said, I should be prepared.  As for you and Mom, I know what that is.  It’s not love.  It’s just sex, and I think you two should keep doing it.  She does too.  All she said when I told her what I was going to do was to save some of you for her.”

Well, that night I learned that it’s possible for a man to love two different women in two different ways, because with Stacey it was definitely different.  With Madeline, it was always about her.  Other than stroking my cock a little, she just waited for me to bring her to the edge and then tip us both over.  I didn’t mind that because it was as great making her cum as cumming myself.

With Stacey, I felt different somehow, like having sex was about us instead of just her or me.  Part of that was Stacey didn’t take off her clothes first.  She draped her arms around my neck and stood on her tiptoes so we could kiss, and when we did, she pushed her breasts into my chest.  When we got around to getting undressed, Stacey started unbuttoning my shirt, so I figured she wanted me to return the favor.

I’d thought watching Madeline take off her clothes was arousing, but it wasn’t half as arousing as when I took off Stacey’s top and saw her there in her black bra.  Her breasts weren’t as big as Madeline’s, but they looked full and firm sitting there in her bra cups.

It took some coordination for her to get my shirt off while I was unhooking her bra, but once her bra band was unhooked, Stacey slipped it from her shoulders and then pressed her breasts into my bare chest.  

I was trying to unfasten her jeans at the time, and when I couldn’t, Stacey giggled.

“You do yours and I’ll do mine.”

It was easy to get my jeans off.  I just unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned and unzipped, and my jeans slipped down around my ankles.  After I kicked my shoes off, all I was wearing was my underwear.

It took Stacey longer, but that was a good thing.  Like most girls, Stacey liked her jeans tight, so she had to move her hips from sided to side in order to get them down to her thighs.  Watching her do that and watching how her breasts swayed from side to side would have stiffened my cock if feeling her breasts against my chest hadn’t already done it.

When Stacey got her jeans down to her thighs, she laid back on her bed, lifted her legs, and said, “Pull”.  

Pulling Stacey’s jeans down was like opening a package on Christmas day.  Little by little I pulled the jeans down and revealed more and more of her satin skin.  When I pulled them all the way off, Stacey hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, lifted her legs, and then pulled them off.  I was in the process of taking off my underwear but I had to stop when I saw the puffy lips between her thighs and the bush on her mound.  Once Stacey tossed her panties onto the floor, she opened those satin thighs and her lips opened a little, enough I could see they were glistening with wetness.

I did what I’d always done with Madeline, and Stacey seemed to like it all.  I know I did.  I liked fondling Madeline’s big breasts and sucking her nipples.  Stacey’s breasts were smaller, but they didn’t flatten out when she was on her back like Madeline's did.  Stacey’s nipples were bigger to begin with, and once I’d sucked them, they got a lot thicker and longer than Madeline’s.

The real difference was when I slipped a finger inside Stacey.  Madeline was pretty snug, but Stacey was tight enough I had to work that finger in and out a few times.  I moved my fingertip up to her clit and found it, and Stacey moaned, “Oh God, Mom said it would feel like this.”

Like with Madeline, I was more than ready when Stacey opened her thighs wide so I could kneel between them.  She pulled her feet up against her hips and that opened her lips.  She reached down and opened them a little more when I probed for her entrance with my cock head.  When I found it and pushed in, Stacey caught her breath and quickly put her hands on my back.

Stacey was all soft, puffy lips that slipped around my cock head and tight enough I had to push in a little and then pull back a couple times to get her wetness on my cock head.  After my second short stroke, Stacey moved a little up and down, and on my next stroke, my cock went half way inside her.  Stacey jerked at the same time she gasped, and then moved her hands from my back to my hips.  On my next stroke, she lifted herself up a little and than gasped again as my cock slipped all the way inside her.

After that, I started slowly stroking my cock in and out of Stacey’s snug passage, but that was different too.  For a while, she just rocked her body up into each stroke, but when she started to breathe faster, I felt her hands stroking my back.  A little later, I felt her wrap her legs around my waist and sort of pull herself up into each stroke.  That pushed my cock inside her really deep, deep enough I felt something that sucked at my cock head when I went to pull back out.

I was trying to hold back the inevitable, but Stacey was just way too responsive.  With every stroke, she’d either moan or gasp and she’d use one hand to pull my face to kiss her.  I’ll tell you that feeling her tongue wrapping around mine at the same time my cock went into her clasping depths was almost more than I could take.  

It wasn’t long before she stopped kissing me and rolled her face to the side.  She started to pant then and I felt little contractions squeeze my shaft once in a while.  I knew Stacey was close when she put her feet back on the bed and then held her breath while she lifted herself into my stroking cock.  A few seconds later, she made a little mewing sound, bucked into my stroke, and then cried out.  It was hard to keep up with how fast her body was rocking up and down on my cock.  I was still trying when she cried out again and dug her nails into my butt cheeks.  I felt the first spurt fly up my cock and splatter inside Stacey.  After that, I couldn’t do much besides groan at each spurt and try to keep my cock inside Stacey.

After I’d shot four spurts inside her, Stacey was still writhing out the orgasm.  I felt little contractions massaging my cock and her silky thighs gripping my sides.  When she stopped panting, she pulled me down on top of her body, kissed me on the shoulder, and stroked my back until my cock slipped out of her.

When it did, Stacey kissed my shoulder again and then whispered, “Now I know how Mom feels.”

I drove back to the dorm that night, but all I did was pick up my books and then drive back to Stacey’s apartment.  On Saturday and Sunday, we studied for our tests the next week from after breakfast until noon.  Stacey would tease me to death while we ate lunch by not wearing anything except her panties.  

After lunch, we studied some more, though I didn’t know how much good it did either of us.  I’d be studying away at Analytic Geometry and feel Stacey stroking my cock through my jeans.  That would result in some long, tongue tangling kisses and then Stacey grinning when I stroked her nipples.

We studied, sort of, until dinner, and after dinner, we went straight to bed.  I found out that just like Madeline, Stacey liked to be fingered to one orgasm and then have another where we came at the same time.  By the end of that weekend, I was convinced that when I could afford it, I’d ask Stacey to marry me.  

It wasn’t the sex exactly.  It was how I felt about her both when we were having sex and the times we weren’t.  It was hard for me to drive back to the dorm on Sunday night knowing I wouldn’t be with her again until at least Friday night.  I’d grown to love the way she laughed and how she always asked me how I was feeling about something.  That was how Mom treated Dad, and Mom had called that love.  I knew it was the same with Stacey and me.

We did have some serious conversations over the rest of the semester.  I had three and a half years before I graduated and could get a job that would let me take care of Stacey.  She had a year and a half before she graduated, and then another four years in Vet school before she could get a job.  We didn’t want to wait that long to get married, but we didn’t want to starve either.

I fixed part of that problem when I found a job working in one of the Engineering labs.  I could work about twenty hours a week and make enough money to pay for enough food to feed us both.  Stacey’s apartment wasn’t a problem because her dad had agreed to pay for that.  That left tuition and books that we needed to pay for, and Stacey thought we could handle that if she got a job during the year.  

What she found was a job taking care of the animals in the Ag barns.  She loved it and it gave her some experience she’d need in her career.

The only question left was what to do about Madeline.  They both answered that question one afternoon when Madeline came to visit.  They spent an hour together in the kitchen making lunch, and after lunch Stacey said she had to go buy some milk.  

I figured that was so Madeline and I could be alone and I was right, except Madeline and I didn’t have sex that afternoon.  We just talked, or rather, Madeline talked and I listened.

“Roger, Stacey thinks the world of you and I know you feel the same way about here.  I want you two to get married because I’ve never seen two people so much in love.  The only thing that’s worrying Stacey is what will happen between you and me if you marry her.  To understand that, you need to understand what our life was like before you came along.

“When I married Jason, Stacey was six so she knew some of what marriage was about.  After that first year, she asked me why Jason didn’t like me.  I told her Jason wouldn’t have asked me to marry him if he didn’t like me, but Stacey said he didn’t act like he did.  She didn’t say much more after that.  She’d just curl up on my lap at night and tell me that she loved me even if Jason didn’t.

“When she was ten, I started explaining what it meant to be a woman.  By the time she was eleven, I’d told her all about sex and what it means when a man and a woman have sex.  I told her that having sex was the way two people showed each other that they loved each other more than anyone else in the world.  That’s when she asked me if Jason and I had sex.  She said she’d never seen us having sex or even touching each other.

“I explained that sex was something private so she wouldn’t have seen us.  She wouldn’t let it go though.  She wanted to know when we had sex and how it felt.  I finally had to tell her that Jason and I weren’t intimate that way, but it was all right because Jason took care of us both.  She said if sex was what I’d told her it was, it wasn’t all right that Jason didn’t have sex with me.  I just said people sometimes have to live their lives in spite of having things that weren’t like they wanted.

“When I told Stacey I hired you to help me with the beans that summer, I hadn’t decided to do what I did.  Stacey sort of talked me into it.  She said if I kept being depressed like I was I’d probably do something dumb and she wouldn’t stand for that.  I asked her how I’d ever talk a boy into doing anything like that, and she said if I didn’t try, I’d never know.

“Well, I tried and you did what I wanted you to do.  Roger, you can’t even imagine what you did for me that day.  I went from wondering how much longer I was going to have to live to hoping you’d keep doing it with me until I was too old to do it anymore.  Stacey figured out that we had, and she told me she was happy.

“She told me about the night you two made love in her apartment, and said she understood how I felt.  We talked it over a lot after that.  Stacey was the only person I could talk to about how I felt and I was the only person she could talk to about how she felt.  She said she couldn’t let me slip back into being depressed all the time.  I said I only knew of one way to keep that from happening and that I wasn’t going to go seducing another boy.

“Roger, as strange as this sounds, Stacey wants us to keep seeing each other.  I know you don’t love me and that doesn’t matter.  I love you, but not like I’d love a husband.  It’s more like I love you like a very close friend.  Stacey understands that, and she told me she could never be jealous of me.  What we hope is that you’ll understand how we both feel about you.  Stacey wants to be your wife and have your children.  I just want to be that very close friend who gets to be with you once in a while.”

Well, that was twenty-three years ago.  Stacey and I got married the summer before I started my junior year.  It was tougher than either of us thought it would be, but Madeline helped us when we needed help.  After I graduated, I decided I’d stay in school and get a Masters while Stacey was going through Vet school.  As a TA, I made pretty good money, enough that Madeline didn’t have to help us anymore.  After I got my Masters, I got a job within a sane driving distance and that pretty much ended our financial concerns.

Once Stacey got her vet license, she worked for another vet for five years and then bought him out when he retired.  A year later, we bought five acres from Madeline and Jason and built a house.  Like I said before, you can take the boy off the farm, but you can’t take the farm out of the boy.  We built a house to live in, but we now have six horses, a dozen cows, and about twenty hens for eggs.  They’re all in Madeline’s barn and the twenty acres we fenced off for a pasture.  The Herford cows are mine and the horses are Stacey’s.  Madeline takes care of the chickens.

Madeline was ecstatic when Stacey told her she was pregnant.  Jason didn’t seem to share that emotion.  He just said he’d had enough of kids after helping Madeline raise Stacey.  As it was, he didn’t have to endure anything.  He had a heart attack and passed before little Johnny was born.  Madeline acted like she was sad, but I think it was more a relief than anything else.  Once Johnny was born, she appointed herself as the chief babysitter so Stacey could go back to work.  

Two more grandkids later, Debby and Marsha, Madeline is happier than I’ve seen her since we first met that first day we hoed beans together.  She hasn’t forgotten that day either.  About once a week, usually on a Saturday afternoon, she’ll ask me to come over and “see if the hay is doing all right”.  

We don’t really climb up to the haymow.  Once we had more than one horse, we needed a place to keep feed and tack so I turned two box stalls into a tack room.  It’s air conditioned for the summer and heated for winter in order to be comfortable while Stacey is waiting for a mare to foal.  That means there has to be a place to sit or lay down, and the big couch is there for just that purpose.  It’s also the place where Madeline and I go to make her happy.

She’s changed a little as she got older, but at sixty-five, she hasn’t lost the desire for a man.  I haven’t lost my desire for her either.  I’d never even think of giving up Stacey, but Madeline is a pretty unique woman and I don’t think I could ever give her up either.  She’s sort of a preview of what I can expect when Stacey is that age.  At forty-six, Stacey is certainly like her mother was at that age.  I just hope I can keep up with what Stacey needs.

I know there are some people who’d think our relationship should be illegal, but they don’t understand that that relationship brings the three of us closer together.  Madeline and Stacey lived basically alone with each other for so many years, they’re more like sisters than mother and daughter.  Where I fit in is as the man who keeps them both happy.  I really like being that man.

 








 

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