Fertile Farms Bundle

by Candy Quinn

  “Well,” he began, lickin’ at his lips, thinkin’ it over, “I really liked playin’ house with you there for a while.” He made it sound like a game, but when he pushed off the bike, he came to her, reached out his free hand towards one of hers as he bent one knee and lowered himself down. “Thought maybe you’d like to do it some more… y’know. Forever maybe.”

  He was grinnin’ at her as she still stared, dumbfounded.

  “But you never said word one before you took off,” she said, shocked. Flabbergasted, the old Mr. Drake would say.

  “Well, when a man puts his mind to somethin’, he gets kinda singularly focussed, Brit. And well… I had to go shop for somethin’ real special,” he said, as he pushed a small, velvety box into her palm.

  “So how’s about it, babe?” he asked again, the bouquet of fragrant flowers in one hand as he smiled up at her. “Marry me and I’ll make sure ya never regret it,” he declared, his voice deep and confident.

  She didn’t need to flip open the ring box, examine what was inside, to know her answer. Her face lit up and before she could think a single thought she blurted out:

  “Yes!”

  And with that, Damien rose up, wrapped his one arm about her, lifted her up off the sidewalk and kissed her so damn hard as he swung her about. All the loneliness and fear of the week just slipped away, and she forgave him for his abrupt exit. It wasn’t like she knew what to make of their time together, of their relationship, and could hardly blame him for wantin’ to do his thing in private.

  But when ‘his thing’ was really shoppin’ for a ring, tryin’ to find a way to surprise her, joy bubbled up within her, and into their kiss. It was electric, and when they finally parted, laughing and united once more, she knew that her life had just perfectly fallen into place.

  Punished

  The Innocent Tease - Book 1

  Book Themes:

  Barely Legal (18-year-old woman), Older Man/Young Woman, Spanking, Flogging, Religious Themes, Priest Sex, Oral Sex, and Creampie

  Word Count:

  8,071

  * * *

  The schoolhouse stood as one of the oldest buildings in the center of town, a large wood structure that dominated the intersection of the dirt roads that led off down the country routes, towards farms in four directions. It was silhouetted by the forest behind, while in front of it was the local shops that provided just about all the town’s needs. Few people actually lived in the town itself; most were farmers out on their plots of lands, somewhat isolated from one another except when they gathered at the center.

  Amy adored the schoolhouse though, it was her favourite place to be, for even though many of the other kids didn’t take it seriously, it was where she was exposed to worlds and ideas that just dazzled her.

  That was why it was so hard to say goodbye.

  She’d stayed longer than most of the other children, who mainly gave up the moment they were allowed to go back and work on the family farm full time. But she had graduated, and it’d be all official very soon.

  It was her last day, and she had an appointment to meet with her teacher bright and early before class began.

  Amy tugged up her tight, navy skirt, the pleated bottoms brushing against her mid-thigh. She was fit, her legs tanned and lean and far too long, the socks pulled up to her knees and black maryjanes scuffed and worn. Her white blouse was translucent, the outline of her simple white bra visible as her large breasts threatened to pop open the buttons.

  Her bra offered no real support or comfort, other than hiding her chest from beneath her shirt, and she pulled on her navy jacket over her shoulders. That, too, didn’t fit well and wouldn’t button in front, but it was required as part of the uniform.

  Besides, with as cold as that June had been, she needed the little extra warmth it provided.

  Her brown hair was pulled back in a french braid, leaving her tanned face free of the wisps, her blue eyes all the more startling because of it.

  She didn’t bother to wake her father from his slumber, as there was still frost in the air and he needed the extra sleep. Her breath curled from her lips, nipples stiffening beneath her blouse, so apparent from beneath her sheer bra.

  Amy didn’t know what her teacher expected of her, but she hoped it was good news. News of a job, of a future. She couldn’t procrastinate any longer, not with her father getting up there in years and her mother passing two summers before.

  She walked the five miles to school, watching as the sun crested over the forest, slowly illuminating the glittering world, and easing the chill in Amy’s body. She walked quickly, satchel slung around her back, as she listened to the birds wake and chirp their song.

  When she arrived inside the schoolhouse, she found her teacher there. The dashing middle aged man was the finest bachelor in town, many said, and that was strange because he was well past the point he should have settled down.

  With a pair of glasses perched upon his nose, and a thick head of blonde hair, he was always smiling. His strong jaw prominent as he glanced over at her, head lifted from his work the moment she entered.

  She was cold, shivering a bit as she shut the door after her, grateful for the warmth as she set down her bag.

  “Amy!” he exclaimed happily, rising up from his desk to come around and meet her. “Thanks so much for comin’ in early,” he said, his tweed jacket open, showing his crisp shirt and tie beyond. It was a simple outfit, which marked him as the town’s teacher as if that was even necessary in such a small place.

  She lived in a town with only 400 other people, and most of them were farmers with rough hands and year round tans.

  “Hey, Mr. Muran,” she smiled in return, her cheeks flushed from the early morning chill, walking towards his desk. He’d taught her for so long, since the next nearest town was over an hour away and there were so few students. It was glorified home schooling, but she wouldn’t have traded a minute of it.

  Especially since she got to see him five days a week.

  He reached out and clasped her hand in his, before he did a very peculiar thing and pulled her in for an embrace. It was a chaste sort of thing, proper, but all the same… to be pressed into his tall, hard body was an experience she had trouble complaining about.

  “Congratulations,” he said before pulling back, a big smile upon his face. “I know it’s not official until the end of the day, but… I’m just so excited for you. And the possibilities that may come for my brightest student.” He said it all with such conviction, so proud of her. It was hard to believe.

  But she was trembling and hoped he’d think it was only due to the cold, then keep her in his arms just a little bit longer. He was so warm and smelled so clean. Not of hay and manure like so many of the farmers around.

  “Thank you,” she managed, breathily, as her eyes fluttered up at him.

  “But I don’t know what I can do next. My father needs help on the farm and...” she trailed off, trying not to let her morose mood sour his celebration for her.

  He rubbed her slender arm through her jacket and nodded.

  “I understand you’ve got some obligations at home. You need a paying job, right?” he said, with a faint smile. “That’s just where I might have some good news,” he said, then gestured around him. “How’d you feel about being a teacher?” he asked, brow raised, an expectant, burgeoning smile upon his face.

  “A teacher?” she asked, her nose crinkling as she looked up at him, head tilted to the side. Her french braid ran over her shoulder, along the navy blazer and grazing over his fingers.

  “I don’t have any college, though.”

  Her teacher shrugged his shoulders.

  “This is a small country school, college isn’t necessarily required…” he explained, “especially not for a teacher’s assistant.” He cracked a smile at her, looking quite excited by it all. “The school’s small, you know that, but we don’t have any teachers good with handling the youngest children, right? That’s where you could come
in, Amy.”

  He sat back upon the corner of his desk and folded his arms, he looked so confident and sure, like he’d solved all her problems. Her saviour.

  She tried not to part her lips in her excitement, not get too caught up in it, but it was difficult not to let her excitement bubble over. She was thrilled, and quickly threw her arms around his neck, her large breasts pressing into his chest as she almost crawled up in his lap.

  Her sudden lunge set him off balance but he managed to regain his position and balance back out as he touched his big, strong hands to her waist.

  “Hey now Amy, just a sec,” he said, unable to fight his grin as he grasped her rather firmly, a tight, comforting sort of hold around her waist. “There’s just one thing you have to do,” he said to her in that calm, instructional tone he’d used to teach her all her life.

  She backed away from him, just a little, her vibrant blue eyes seeking his out as she tilted her head curiously.

  “Anything, Mr. Muran,” she said, and meant it with every fiber of her being.

  His handsome face contorted and he stood back up. With a slow once-over, he seemed to inspect her, a mischievous look crossed his face.

  “As you know of course, the school’s budget is tight. We’re funded almost entirely by the township, and the local parish. So though we have tentative approval for a new teacher’s assistant, there are two people you need to meet with first, to convince you’re the right candidate,” he said with a proper amount of gravity to the statement.

  “Okay,” she agreed, without hesitation. A way out of being a farmer and still able to provide for her father? There wasn’t any question in her mind that she’d do what she had to in order to convince them.

  “You’re going to have to meet with Father Mackay at the parish church. He’s the first one you’ll have to convince. I’m sure it shouldn’t be a problem, right? How could anyone not fall for you upon first sight?” he remarked with a grin.

  “Sure,” she nodded easily, her heart thumping louder as she realized she was still standing so near to him, chest brushing against his with her eager breaths.

  “Who else?”

  Her teacher gave her a momentary look before he spoke, as if bracing to deliver the news.

  “The mayor,” he said softly. “And I know he’s been a bit of a nuisance for your father in the past, but hopefully he doesn’t hold their feud against you. Which he shouldn’t. That was ancient even when it started, had no business exploding up like that.”

  Amy had never quite learned the reason for why the mayor and her father had such an ongoing rivalry, though it had all started shortly after her mother passed away. Her father had always been a gentle man, so it didn’t make sense to her that he became so enraged towards the man who ran the town.

  But for all her curiosity and enthusiasm at school, she understood her father’s desire not to talk about it or let it hurt their time together so she’d never pried.

  Still, she let out a soft sigh and nodded at her teacher, fingers lightly brushing over her braided hair.

  “What should I say, then?”

  He gave a shrug but smiled reassuringly down at her, the angle causing his glasses to slip a bit and he had to push them back up the bridge of his well-shaped nose.

  “I trust you know how best to warm a man’s heart, Amy. You’ve never had any issue winning my admiration or appreciation, after all,” he stated, reaching a hand out to place upon her slender shoulder and squeeze it gently.

  Those words warmed her heart, then swam into her loins as her breath caught for just a moment. How long had she had a crush on him? She was only just a girl, so awkward and shy. But he’d had no small hand in bringing out the woman in her, and she nearly soared at his compliments.

  “And then we’d work together? Every day?”

  “Every day,” he repeated cheerfully, letting his hand slide down her arm to grasp her hand with his. Those long fingers of his wrapped about her dainty digits as he squeezed. “I’d very much like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked, brow raised. “No longer have to be teacher and student, it’tll be a real, adult kind of working relationship. We could even go to lunch or dinner together.”

  Her knees trembled and her head was bobbing up and down stupidly before she even realized it.

  “I’d love that,” she stressed, her breath so warm as she looked up on him affectionately. “I mean, I’d do anything,” she continued, her smile growing with every passing moment as excitement filled her. There was no way she’d let either of them turn her down.

  She needed that job more than life itself.

  His own smile showed he was almost as excited himself. A big toothy grin upon his face, bigger than she’d ever seen it. And her Mr. Muran was not shy of smiling! He gave her hand another squeeze.

  “Good. So Father Mackay wishes to meet with you this very morning, and hear exactly why it is you feel you’re up for the task of being assistant teacher. Then once he gives you the approval… it’s down to the mayor.”

  He gave her such a warm, confident smile.

  “I know you can do this, Amy,” he said softly.

  There was no part of her that wouldn’t make it happen, and she gave him a firm, resolute nod, her face serious.

  “Would it be too early to go now, Mr. Muran?”

  He smiled so handsomely down at her and shook his head.

  “No, Father Mackay is an early bird sort of guy. Up before anyone in this town, I’m sure he’d appreciate punctuality. That’s why I asked you to meet me so early today.” He leaned in and spoke to her in a conspiratorial sort of tone, “We gotta get these fellas in their weak spots and get ‘em hard.” He winked at her, that act alone so... adult so… strange.

  He then inspected her outfit, ran his hands along her arms and tried to adjust it just a little, though the tightness of that undersized outfit gave little wiggle room.

  But the feel of his warm hands on her, it elicited a very obvious reaction; her nipples tightened between the thin fabric of the top and the sheer material of her barely-there bra. Her cheeks flushed bright as she looked at his face, praying he hadn’t noticed.

  “I’ll go right now, then,” she half asked, half stated.

  “It’s best you do,” he said to her with a nod. “Go on then,” he remarked, and did a very special thing altogether. He leaned in and kissed her forehead softly. “I know you won’t disappoint. You never have,” he said, just before he turned and walked back behind his desk. Leaving her to stand there, overwhelmed.

  Her blood burned hot as she turned and picked up her backpack, her heart stuck in her throat.

  She couldn’t disappoint him. Not after that tender kiss.

  Outside the cool air nipped at Amy again, but it was a relief with how hot and flushed she felt. She made her way on over towards the parish church, which stood almost as big as the school house. It was a little ways away from the center of town, but it was nowhere near the distance of her walk from home, so she hardly felt it was a big deal at all.

  She pushed in through the big front doors of the church and looked into its great, cavernous hall. No sight of the Father about as she walked on down the carpeted aisle.

  Her father and her hadn’t attended since her mother passed on, and she’d assumed it was simply too painful for her dad.

  Before then, though, they’d gone together as a family, once a week like clockwork, and she made her way towards where she remembered the office to be. She let down her satchel outside, heart pounding as she sucked in a deep breath, petting over her outfit.

  She knocked on the door, hoping it was loud enough, but her nerves and shyness turned it into soft little pulses against the wood.

  “Come in!” came a voice from inside, and she opened the door and moved on in. Instantly a wave of heat blasted her, the Father having a cozy fireplace lit high to keep the cold at bay.

  He sat by the fire with a book in his lap, but upon seeing her his eyes widened and he shut it closed.
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  “Young Amy,” he said with much surprise. He was an older man, with ruddy hair that had silver streaks through it. He was undoubtedly handsome, though he had the build of a farmer himself. A strong looking man, he filled his frock rather well.

  “It has been so long since you have been in the Lord’s house,” he said as he rose up and smiled at her warmly.

  She shut the door behind her so as not to let out the heat, but instantly she felt the desire to take off her jacket, the warmth almost overbearing.

  Still, Amy smiled brightly in the face of her discomfort, doing her absolute best to seem chipper and cheery.

  “Father,” she said, walking towards him, bowing her head just so.

  “It’s been too long,” she agreed.

  “Oh, you sweet child,” he said as he reached out, and placed his hands upon her arms just beneath her shoulders. He rubbed her thoroughly there as he sized her up. “You’ve grown so much in so few years,” he stated, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. He was nearly as tall as Mr. Muran, and an imposing figure next to her. “I really wish I saw you more often, child.”

  Amy looked up at him from beneath her dark lashes, her braid rested along her neck.

  “Me too,” she said truthfully. It was her father’s decision, after all, that she not attend on Sundays, and she was, if nothing else, obedient.

  “Mr. Muran told me you were expecting me?”

  “Am I needed?” he said, his head tilted to the side as he sized her up once more. Then realization sank into his emerald eyes, and they widened. “Ahh, it’s you then, isn’t it?” he asked, eyes alight with some strange fascination. “Take off your jacket, and come sit, child,” he beckoned her, gesturing to the small sofa across from his seat, next to the fire.

  She was relieved at the opportunity to remove the navy jacket, placing it on the coat rack next to the door. The heat had already flushed her cheeks as she went to the sofa, scooping up her too short skirt as she sat down.