by Jordan Shay
HARVEST OF SIN
Author
Copyright © 2017 AUTHORS NAME GOES HERE
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter One
His hands had felt smoother than the butter my Grandmama churns every spring. Not like Amish hands. The mere touch of his skin on mine, sent tremors throughout my body, and thoughts through my mind. Dirty thoughts. Inappropriate thoughts.
My memories are wonderful and painful at the same time. I want more.
He had ripped the back of my dress as he aggressively ravished my body with his lips and hands. I was in heaven. My brain told me Mom was going to wonder about my dress. My heart said, ‘Who fucking cares. Keep going.’
His clean-shaven face sent shivers down my spine as he caressed my neck with his face and lips. My body was overtaken by goose bumps. He made his way down my breasts with his tongue, kissing my body everywhere. Slowly, and gently, one hand made its way under my dress, up my thigh, wrapping a couple fingers around my underwear and tugging them off my hips. He was smooth. Clearly he had done this before.
My bonnet had flown off (or had he tossed it?). I had found it later several feet away in the mud. Yet another explanation to Mama I might have to endure.
I ended up almost naked, nipples exposed and erect in the cool air; panties around my ankles. We probably would have gone all the way, had we not heard the buggy approaching. Papa. Fuck.
***
My blankets were cozy and warm as I laid in bed, remembering that day. It was a week ago, and Derek was still consuming my mind even though I had not seen him since. He had touched me in places I had never been touched in my 26 years. And I liked it. I really liked it.
“Anna!” My brother’s voice carried through the house and I heard his footsteps thunder up the stairs. “Anna!”
His voice jerked me out of my memory and back to reality. Damn. I sighed and rolled over, wondering if I could just pull the blankets over my face and pretend to be invisible. Why can’t I ever sleep in?
My door flew open without so much as a knock, and my little brother, Abe, stood there, hair disheveled, fully dressed but still in bare feet. Typical Abe. “C’mon Anna! Everyone’s going to be here soon. Mom said to get downstairs now!” He turned and disappeared down the steps about as quickly as he had come up them. And left my door wide open. Damn kid. Never a moment of privacy here.
Today was the day we had several families coming over for a harvesting day. I would oversee the kids, as always. Abe would have to help, but he himself was just a child at only 12 years old. My other brother, Jeb, at age 18, would have to help with the harvesting.
The Amish community is tight-knit, and while there are things I love about it, I can’t help but wonder if I should have left during Rumspringa ten years ago. Oddly enough, that thought had never truly crossed my mind before Derek. What have I missed out on?
Derek was not Amish, and any relationship with an English man is forbidden in my community for any woman. I had never broken any church rules until I met him. Well, except for swearing. Which I seemed to do more and more as I got older.
I’ve had some moments of clarity since that day and guilt sweeps over me like storm cloud. The hurt that my family would feel. The punishment I would suffer from the church. All of it is overwhelming. But I can’t help it. My heart yearns for him. My body craves him. His touch, his smell, his whole being.
Derek was a friend of the Miller’s, an English family that my cousin Betty cleans for. Derek was handy, and looking for some extra work. Betty ended up introducing him to my father, a cabinet maker. He came over often, helping my father. His dark hair, piercing green eyes, and all around chiseled good looks made my insides melt the very second I laid eyes on him. I had never met anyone that looked like him before. I felt physical reactions in my body like I had never experienced in my life. His eyes looked not only at me, but into me. I just knew he could see into my soul from that very first moment we met, and my face suddenly felt on fire. I was afraid to speak to him for a while, certain that I wouldn’t be able to form a sentence. My fears did not go unfounded. I was a blubbering idiot for the first five minutes.
“Anna!” This time it was my Mom’s voice. And she sounded serious.
“I’m coming!” I chose a light blue dress and white bonnet from my closet and started to get dressed. Then I grabbed my black apron, because God forbid I get dressed without that damn black apron. As I buttoned my dress over my breasts, I wondered if Derek would ever touch them again. Why had I waited 26 years to experience that? What was wrong with me?
I knew lots of other girls in the Amish community had slept around. Hell, even some of my friends. Sometimes they talked about it when we were all together. I never had much to contribute. But, now...
I slipped on my black traditional Amish shoes and headed to the window to see how many people were already here. There was quite a crowd of adults standing around, talking, and several kids running about the place. Great. Pain in the ass little kids. I was about to turn around and head downstairs when I saw a red pickup truck pull into the drive. Did someone take a ride from an Englishman? It was possible. The truck didn’t simply pull in however, it veered off to the side of the barn where the buggies were lined up. The truck parked next to the last buggy in line, and a man got out. He was alone.
I leaned closer to the window to see who it was. An Englishman. The man wore a pair of fitted blue jeans, boots, a white t-shirt and a baseball hat. He was certainly out of place in my yard full of Amish families.
Suddenly my stomach filled with butterflies and my knees felt wobbly. My hand without warning flew to my mouth as I gasped. His head had turned towards me and it was a face I would recognize anywhere.
Derek.
He was here. At my house. I looked at my dress, and thought, shit. I can’t wear this. Light blue? No, I need something prettier. More feminine. Sexier. Yeah, right. There is nothing sexy about Amish dresses. I chose pink. My mom will be pissed for bringing attention to myself. She didn’t approve of my pink dress. But I don’t care. I did want attention. From Derek.
I ran down the steps, two at a time, and busted through the screen door, before coming to a complete stop on the porch. My heart was pounding and my breathing was labored. My nerves were taking over. I looked over to my left. My mother was cutting corn off the cob into a basket. Her eyes, wide with surprise, no doubt at my hasty arrival on the porch, met mine. Quickly, the surprised look switched to disapproval. Her face looked fierce. I was wearing pink. I looked away. Partly in shame, partly in embarrassment. What could she say? Nothing. There were too many Amish families in our yard for her to open her loud mouth. Finally, something to thank God for!
Derek was just ahead. Down four steps, and about 20 feet away from the porch, talking to my father. Should I go talk to him? No. I can’t. I’m not allowed. Such bullshit. Twenty-six years old and stuck on this fucking porch. I could still feel my mother’s eyes on me.
“Go tend to the children,” my mother directs me.
“Yes, ma’am.” I head over to the wooden playground that my father and uncles had built. Four swings, one slide, and monkey bars. And, completely in the opposite direction of where my father and Derek are st
anding. As I walk over, I glanced over my left shoulder. Keep it cool, Anna. My eyes meet Derek’s and I feel instant fluttering in my stomach. Quickly, he takes his eyes off me. Did someone see? I hope not. He won’t be allowed over if someone saw that.
Why was he here? Did he come to help harvest? No way. He doesn’t farm, does he? He fixes things.
And that was it. His hands. It took me right back to that moment where those masculine but soft, sensual hands, were touching my quivering, almost naked body. Damn. The thoughts. I wanted him to keep touching me. I yearned for him to take me to a place I have never been before. The place where you moan, and groan, and feel the climax of a man’s hard throbbing dick. That is what I wanted from Derek.
Inappropriate thoughts for an unmarried Amish girl. In fact, probably inappropriate for a married Amish woman. I know. Clearly I am the black sheep of the family. The community too. It’s hard to keep my thoughts on the straight and narrow. And for Amish women...the straight and narrow is super straight, and ridiculously narrow.
“Anna! ANNA!” Shit. Aunt Cheryl is screaming at me. What else is new? She screams at everyone. You know how chickens have a mother hen, and that mother hen is one bossy bitch? That pretty much describes Aunt Cheryl. She thinks the world revolves around her. My mother’s sister, and she is married to Uncle Henry. Nicest man you’ll ever meet. Why he stays with that bitch of a woman, I’ll never know. Obligation of this religion, I guess.
I hollered over, “What do you need Aunt Cheryl?”
She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Get those youngin’ up to the porch. Time for them to read an Arthur Maxwell book.” I don’t know why she just didn’t say read a book. Aunt Cheryl is so odd. She always has to reference a book by the author’s name. Arthur Maxwell books are the ONLY books Amish kids are allowed to read. Most of Maxwell’s books reference the Bible.
I called the snotty-nosed kids up to the porch. Okay, a couple are cute little kids...but many of them...are snotty-nosed. They obediently and quietly gather in a circle. Most of them are barely 6 years old. They know to quickly sit in a circle, or their mama’s will tan their hides. One thing about an Amish woman, she may not have much say in the world, but by God, she can use a stick like no other. Sometimes more fierce than any man.
Finally, I’m on the porch, which is much closer to Derek. His presence made me nervous and I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I wonder, what is he talking to my father about? Harvest? Cabinets? Asking my father if he can court me? Well, I know the last one isn’t true. My father would have Derek’s head if he knew an Englishman had any interest in me.
Elizabeth has the book in her hands from Aunt Cheryl and begins to read. She’s a confident little lady. Oldest of the group, turning 7 on Tuesday. Daughter of Aunt Lela; my father’s sister. Sweet lady, best baker I know. Trust me when I say, all Amish women bake. And they bake good. But none bake as well as Aunt Lela. Her cinnamon rolls ooze with sweet goodness. They’re soft and literally melt in your mouth. Maybe I should make some cinnamon rolls with Aunt Lela sometime, and take them over to Derek’s place.
Would he like the cinnamon rolls? Would he eat them? Would he let the sweet sugary topping drizzle all over my breasts, and then lick it off? God, I hope so.
The book is like many of the other books that Amish kids read. Talks about God, good choices and values. This particular book, Jesus, Friend of Children, was perfect for this little group. The children listened intently to Elizabeth.
I tried to pay attention, but my mind kept wandering. Fuck, who am I kidding? I didn’t want to pay attention. I wanted to send my mind to thoughts of Derek. I wanted my mind to wander. Wander back to the day Derek touched me, wander to what else I wanted Derek to do to me. I realized I need to get to him while he was here. But, how? There were so many people around.
I’m daydreaming, and in doing so, I didn’t even realize my father and Derek were now on the porch. I can’t breath. I feel flushed. My cheeks were burning as I fought to keep them from turning red and alerting my father to anything inappropriate. I didn’t even know what chapter Elizabeth is on. I can no longer hear the corn kernels being ripped off the cobs. In fact, I don’t think I can hear anything. I am frozen.
A deep voice says, “Hello Mrs. Yoder. Hello Anna.” My mother doesn’t miss a beat and in her jolly, best-behavior-for-guests-voice, answers, “Hello Derek, so nice of you to come over and fix the wagon. We are certainly gonna need it to finish the harvest.” I look up, and force a smile. I couldn’t say anything. If I did, my mother may hear the guilt in my voice. She would know what I had done. She finds out everything.
I dart my eyes into the yard to avoid looking at him for too long. I focus on a tree, all the while telling myself to keep it together. I want to look at him so bad, but I can’t.
Derek and my father then turn around and head to the shed. We call it the shed, but it’s actually a big ass barn. I need to get to the shed. I need to see Derek. Somehow, I have to get him away from my father. I was stuck with the kids, though, and that fucking sucked. They were still engrossed in Elizabeth’s reading. Maybe they wouldn’t notice if I snuck away.
I didn’t have to wonder that for too long. The perfect solution just strutted up to the porch.
By the grace of God, my cousin, Heather, showed up to help me with the children. Heather is 18, thin, tall, and has a gorgeous smile. I’m thankful she is here to help. All I could think of was getting to that damn shed.
I knew I was acting crazy. There are too many people here for me to go to the shed. Even if we are just talking, I would be in trouble. Serious trouble. Nearly unforgivable by the church. I don’t care. I have to get to the shed. Fuck.
I tell Heather that I have to go check on our does. Our does just dropped their kids, so we have goats everywhere. I head over to the barn and take a quick look at the does. They’re fine. Now, I have to get to the shed. Perfect time. Everyone is busy.
I bust ass. I seriously ran so fast, I could barely catch my breath. But, I made it into the shed. He must be here somewhere. And my father? Is he in here too? Shit. Now what. “Hello?” Derek’s voice rang through the silence. I should leave. No, I can’t. He’s in here. I have to see him. Shit. Fuck. I should get out of here. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Anna, is that you?” I look up slowly, and it’s Derek. Damn, he is just as hot as I remembered. Tall, handsome, that chiseled face. Sparkling green eyes. Exactly how I remembered him.
I squeaked out an answer in a voice that didn’t sound like me, “Yes, it’s me. I can’t stay. I just came to say hi.”
“It’s good to see you, Anna. I haven’t stopped thinking about the last time we were together.”
“Me either,” I replied and then hesitated. “I better go.”
“No. Don’t go.”
My brain was telling me to leave, but I couldn’t. I was mesmerized looking at Derek. Oh shit, he’s coming closer. Run! I couldn’t.
Derek looked deep into my eyes. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I let him. ‘God, I hope nobody finds us. I should break away.’ I thought. I couldn’t. He kissed me, I kissed him back. That feeling, it’s coming back. I need to get out of here.
I held Derek, and he held me. The tighter he squeezed his arms around my waist, the more intense the kissing became. I felt myself getting wet. Oh my God, I wanted him to touch me so bad. Would he? I hoped so, and he read my mind.
Slowly, he reached under my pink dress and caressed my inner thigh. I was nervous and excited. He continued upward, to that God-forsaken area that I dreamed that he would touch. His fingers move back and forth over my pussy lips. Teasing me. Exciting me even more.
Derek’s bulge was getting big in his pants. I could feel his excitement growing. I wanted to touch him. He knew it. He unbuttoned his jeans. Holy shit. It was swollen and large, smooth, and throbbing ever so slightly.
He gently led me behind a stack of straw bales and lowered me to the soft straw that covered the dir
t floor. His lips never left mine as we moved. My heart was ready to explode and for a second I wondered if he could feel it. He must. I’m sure it was pounding visibly through my dress. My mind didn’t give another thought to the sin I knew we were committing.
Within moments my dress was hiked up over my hips. My panties were slipped down to my ankles and before I could react to what was happening, he had buried his face in my pussy. His tongue sent shocks of pleasure through my entire body and a moan escaped my lips. Derek’s hand shot up to my mouth to stifle any more sound. He knew the risk.
He licked my pussy all over, up and down, nibbling on my clit and exploring with his fingers. It felt so good, even my eyes began to water. I was in heaven.
I spread my legs wider to and put my hand on the back of Derek’s head, pushing his face into me. I didn’t want him to stop. My fingers wove through his hair, while he gently pushed a finger into my pussy. I felt him inside of me, and I moaned as his he went deeper.
“Have you ever…” Derek brought his face up to look at me long enough to ask. I knew what he was getting at, shook my head slightly, and pushed his face back to my pussy.
