by Candy Quinn
I’d let Jason take the guest room. He was as crude as I could have imagined at dinner, but I couldn’t help but think about whether he was down there sleeping or still up, thinking I’d be coming back down there for what I knew I wanted more of.
Another wave of guilt hit me—why did I feel this way about some low-down criminal?
I touched a marking on the windowsill where an old crush and I had carved our initials. I’d been grounded for a week for bringing a boy up into my room, and another week for putting a permanent mark on a fine piece of carpentry.
There wasn’t anyone around to ground me, but this time, I’d fucked up way more than that.
Quiet as I was when I was a kid, I pushed my way out the window and crept down the rooftop by a way I’d learned well. I didn’t want Jason to hear me leaving the house, just like I didn’t want my parents hearing me when I snuck out as a kid.
I padded out to the barn through the wet grass, footsteps shrouded by the light rainfall. My gown was short enough to keep from getting drenched in the wet grass.
The barn door creaked as I pushed it open, and I moved past the moonshine-filled truck to the ladder that led to the hayloft. I clambered up, careful not to nick myself on a splinter in the dark.
I hadn’t been up here in years. Not since my parents had passed. It hadn’t really occurred to me that with the whole house to myself, I didn’t have to hide what I’d stashed away up here.
In the corner of the loft, there was a little box next to a lamp that I kept. I opened it up, and inside were scores of papers full of my awkward handwriting. I flicked the lamp on and shuffled through a few of them.
They were poems. Most of them I’d written when I was ‘becoming a woman,’ as Ma said, and I didn’t have much of anyone to talk to about that kind of thing. New feelings, including the kind of shame I was feeling now, I realized.
I’d never shared anything I’d written, and as far as I knew, I was the only one who even knew I’d written them. Maybe they weren’t as good as being able to talk through some of those feelings, but they were better than nothing…and I sure as hell needed some guidance right now.
But I only had about five minutes to myself with my old scribbles before I heard a creak from the ladder behind me, and I whipped around as my heart leapt to my throat.
The faint lamplight illuminated the top half of Jason. We locked eyes for a few moments.
“Hey,” he said at last, as if he’d been invited up here. I swallowed.
“What are you doing here, Jason?”
For the first time, I thought I saw those ravenous eyes soften sheepishly for a second. “I uh…,” he rubbed the back of his neck and climbed the rest of the way up to the loft.
“Heard the roof creaking when you left the house, saw you headed for the barn. Thought you were going for the truck,” he gestured down to the truck full of valuable alcohol down below. “Figured you was—”
“—Gonna steal your moonshine, take off down the highway in a nightgown and leave the farm behind for one truck of bootleg?” I couldn’t help but laugh, crossing my legs as I tried to be discrete about putting my poems away.
Jason didn’t look amused. Even as he stooped to move towards me, he seemed as tall and intimidating as ever, the light from my lantern flickering on his nose as though he were a bull striding towards me. I saw his hand leaving his back, and a chill ran up my back.
How close did he come to pulling a gun on me over some booze?
His look softened as he approached, though, and I realized his eyes were on my box.
“What’s that?” he asked suddenly, and I instinctively I put my hand over it—the worst possible decision, I realized a moment later.
Immediately, his arm reached around me, and he had snatched the box of my deepest feelings.
“It’s nothing! Hey, give it back!”
“What’s the problem if it’s ‘nothing’?” He was laughing at me, and I felt my face flush red. I yanked it back from him while he was laughing and hit him with a sharp elbow to the stomach.
“That personal, huh?” he coughed, rubbing where I’d hit him and settling down.
“Yeah,” I grumbled, carefully opening the box and picking out a somewhat less embarrassing poem, knowing he’d grab for it a moment later. “You’re right, it gets a little too quiet here from time to time. I write a little to let it all out. When I get a chance, you know. Here and there. Not so much these days.”
I winced preemptively, expecting him to scoff, but it never came. I only felt a gentle tug at the paper as he tried to take it from me, and swallowing my pride, I let him have it.
There’s no way not to feel embarrassed when someone is reading something of yours in front of you, but this was one of the most personal things I’d ever put on paper.
My face burned hotter than the lamp that was letting those sharp green eyes scan the little sheet of verse. Every moment passed like an hour.
“I uh…I’m not much of a poetry guy,” he started reluctantly, and my heart plummeted hard. Oh god what if this turns into just an awkward weird thing and he leaves? Why did I let him look at that?!
“…but this is pretty great, Heather.” He looked back up at me and gave me the first sincere smile I’d seen from him in my grand total of eight hours of knowing him.
My heart soared.
“You’re lyin’.” I tried to hold back a beaming smile, and even I wanted to laugh at my own drawl as it came out, more pronounced than if my grandma had spoken.
“No, no,” he insisted, smacking me playfully with the paper, “I mean it!”
We were laughing together now; half of it was my feeling lightheaded at a stranger taking a liking to something so private, so personal. The other half was the simple fact that I realized just how comfortable I felt with his being next to me.
Here he was in the most private hideaway I’d had in my entire life, and now I knew I wanted him to touch me like nobody ever had.
The lantern light flickered in his eyes, and I saw the familiar hunger in him—now genuine, where it had been just lustful before.
I was surprised to feel his hand on my side—not because it was unwanted, but because I thought I’d only been fantasizing about it. We met each other’s mouths halfway and he dug his tongue into mine as I climbed into his lap and wrapped my bare legs around his waist.
Without even realizing what I was doing, my hips started grinding against his body even as I clung to him, fully clothed. A moan was coming from my throat, but it couldn’t have been me—it was some animalistic desire inside me that this criminal from out of town was awakening.
“Please,” I sighed as I felt his scruff on my face and his mouth sucking at my neck, “fuck, Jason, I’ve been working this place so long on my own, I need—ahh!” His hand was already up my gown and searching for my breasts.
“You just need a hand,” he husked, pulling his head away long enough to lock eyes with me. My mouth was agape as I looked at him, and I realized that I couldn’t do anything but give in to the desire that had been coiled up in me so long. I needed this. Now.
“Fuck me, Jason,” I begged him, my hips still grinding up against him, “I need this. I need you.”
The next thing I knew, I was on my back on the hay, and my gown was flung up high enough to show everything it tried to hide. I brushed my hair out of my eyes, and I realized his shirt was already drifting to the ground below, revealing an incredible body beneath.
He was cut like a hiker, all rock-hard abs and pecs that I wanted to throw myself onto. No, I wanted him on top of me.
No sooner than I’d finished the thought did it become reality.
He loomed over me like a predator about to devour its prey, savoring the look of mixed arousal and shock on my face as his pillar-like arms imprisoned me under him on either side. He was an animal, and I wanted him to fuck me like one.
I’d hardly let my hand wander over his mass of well-toned muscles before he reached down to tear my g
own off me, leaving me completely exposed.
I let out a little yelp when his mouth touched my nipple, a rough hand going to the other. I felt his nose ring cold against my skin while he sucked at my breasts hungrily.
One of my hands grasped at the hay, looking for anything to grab onto, while the other tended to my slick womanhood. Even as it did, my hips were rocking forward, begging the bulk of masculinity above me to come closer, to give me the satisfaction I wanted so badly.
“You fucking moonshiner,” I cursed, “coming in here like you own the place, ruining a perfectly—ahh!—honest business!”
“Ain’t your business I want to ruin,” he growled, “there’s only one thing I’ve wanted since I saw you, all legs and curls.”
I heard a rustling as he reached down to his crotch, and my heart raced as I realized what he was doing. I bit my lip and looked up to him with wide eyes while I touched myself, eagerly waiting for him.
“God, I wanted to fuck you right there in the middle of the road, for the whole goddamn town to see.”
Then I saw him unzip his jeans and reveal his cock, the first one I’d ever seen in my life.
Desire washed over me and up through my body like an electric shock as I looked at the huge hard mass that came from his pants. It was gorgeous, purple-crowned and massive as his hand stroked it and a deep murmur came from his throat.
At that point, any shame that was left over was promptly shoved away in the back of my mind. I felt it, I knew I should push him away and go back to my bed and say my prayers like I’d always been taught…but I had to have Jason’s cock in me.
He brought the tip to my nether lips, and I pushed myself up against it and gasped. He rubbed it up against me just like he did before with his tongue, but there was so much more mass to his manhood that the sensation was totally different, and I loved it.
“I didn’t know anything about this stuff before you,” I groaned as he started grinding against my cunt, “give me everything I’ve been missing out on!”
“I’ll give you what you’ve been working so hard for,” he cooed in a voice that was both aggressively demanding yet so reassuring that I spread my legs wide, desperate for him to sink himself inside me.
And he did.
Jason shoved himself into my wet, yearning cunt, and I let out a shriek of absolute ecstasy that was lost in the rain that pattered against the barn roof.
He was in me, rocking his hips gently at first, and the warmth that filled my whole body was a feeling of satisfaction that I wanted to last forever.
“Ohhhhh,” I groaned, “fuck me, Jason! God, fuck me like I’m yours!”
He didn’t need instruction. The rocking of his hips, the feeling of his cock’s girth inside me, filling me, the feeling of his hands on my breasts and his mouth on my neck, it was all so overwhelming that my eyes rolled up into my head and I could hardly even tell what my body was doing.
I grasped at his sides, trying to get a grip, but he really was like a bull, plowing into me now faster. His hands went to my hips, gripping the toned yet soft flesh there and pulling me into him.
“Yes, fuck, just like that,” I urged him on. I don’t know how long his pumping went on, but each thrust was like a wave of comforting warmth and excitement that surged through my body.
Before I knew what had happened, a rush of pleasure crested in me, and I screamed as an orgasm crashed through me, warmth and honey dousing his cock as my fingernails dug into his broad, muscular back. I felt scars back there, and even in the rush of the orgasm I thought of the fights he might have been in, the other women he might have been with, the other danger he’d put himself through.
Then I felt suddenly empty, and I looked down to realize he’d yanked his cock out of me. I looked up at him, almost hurt by the emptiness inside me.
“No, not yet,” I whimpered, “just a little mo—“
I was cut off as he seized me by the waist and spun me over, and I yelped as I was face down in the hay.
“What’re you doing?!” I gasped before I felt that familiar mass cram itself inside me again, and my head fell forward as a whole new sensation rippled through me.
My face was paralyzed at the sensation, like the pain of someone twisting your arm, but as pure ecstasy that I wanted to stop out of fear, but at the same time, an animal instinct in me begged me to let it go on.
His cock was hitting something deep inside me, something even my fingers hadn’t reached. The sensation was like a spring uncoiling after so, so many years of being wound up.
My round ass pressed up against his crotch as he pounded me in that golden spot, and only a few squeaks escaped my lips before I lost track of how much I felt my abdomen tense and relax as orgasm after orgasm burned up through me.
“You are mine,” came his wolfish growl, “just like anything else I want to take.”
“You…you really want me?” I managed, looking back at him, my toes clenching as I tried to repress the overwhelming desire I had for him long enough to speak, “prove it, fucking come in me, Jason.”
I never thought the things I said like that could have power over a guy like Jason, but the words were hardly out of my mouth before his motions started to lose control. Was he getting tired?
Just as his bucking went farther and deeper with each irregular thrust and a powerful orgasm drew a scream of pleasure from me, I heard a much deeper, even more satisfying cry come from Jason behind me, and warmth shot into my cunt.
I collapsed, a doll in his arms as I felt his hot seed shoot into me, stream after stream making me wince in unmitigated lust for more of the pearly fluid. I was utterly helpless as I felt myself getting so wonderfully stuffed with come, each throb of his cock in me releasing more of it. Is there supposed to be that much?!
Like the dirty dreams I’d had in the past, I hardly realized when it was over, and we lay there together breathing heavily as the storm subsided.
He was still in me, cock still stiff as I felt some of the warm fluid run out of my pussy. I felt a hand going up and down my side. He was stroking me, I realized.
“Good girl,” I heard his gravelly voice. I answered with an utterly satisfied hum, and I found my hand going to where his manhood met my mound and bringing some of the come up to my lips.
I hesitated a moment, but looked him in the eye as I put it into my mouth and licked my fingers clean of it.
He finally drew himself out of me, carefully, leaving a string of his seed trailing out as he did. I still don’t know how to put that feeling of wholeness into words, I just knew that I wanted it as much as I could get it.
He took me in his thick arms, getting down beside me and wrapping me in his embrace. I would be drifting off to sleep soon, I knew—I’d never felt this relaxed in my entire life.
He pushed his nose into my curly hair and put a hand on my ass, holding me tight and breathing slowly.
“I could just steal you away,” he husked into my ear. “The booze is alright, but a guy only gets a haul like you once in a lifetime.”
“Steal me, y’damn bandit?” I giggled back, cuddling into his chest, “we’ll see about that…but for now, I reckon you’ve earned breakfast, at least.”
Chapter 4
Jason stayed past breakfast, as it turned out. Past the rest of the day, in fact. I’d start cooking a meal, but before I could get it to the table, I found myself being spread out on top of it. I was hardly able to keep up with the farm work in between getting fucked brainless for the next few days.
The week slipped by as if it were nothing—and it wasn’t until the end of it that I realized I hadn’t sent Jason away, and he sure didn’t show any signs of being in a big hurry.
We ended up drinking most of the moonshine together, laughing over some of my old poetry under the starlight at night, and soon, he even picked up some tools and got to helping me out around the farm.
For the first time in a long while, the farm didn’t feel lonely anymore. Jason felt so comforting when he wa
s inside me, and it wasn’t long before I felt that way when he was just out and around the house with me. Waking up next to his pierced face in the morning made me want to roll around in the sheets with him for hours—and I didn’t regret a thing. I almost laughed at the guilt I’d felt a few days ago. Or was it weeks?
It wasn’t long before he had packed up and moved onto the farm with me, and it wasn’t much longer after that that I started feeling sick in the mornings. I hadn’t been able to resist feeling him fill me up every day, and within several weeks, it was showing in the form of a round belly.
Folks probably talked, this being the small county that it was, but neither of us thought much of it at all. We had each other, and that was all we needed never to feel alone again.
One thing Jason never did shake completely was the moonshining. Both of us had a taste for it, but it was the thrill that didn’t wear off. I even went on him for most of the runs, after he’d moved in with me. As it turned out, a bandit and his pregnant girlfriend running booze could turn a pretty tidy profit.
Tidy enough, I found out, to buy a damn fine engagement ring, too.
The Fertile Farm: Lucy
Chapter 1
Valentine's Day weren't a big deal on our farm, my ma and pa passed away long ago and there weren't a lick of romance happenin' since. It was just me and Uncle John. Well, I always called him Uncle John, but truth is that he was just my pa's best friend, my godfather I reckon.
Uncle John moved on in and raised me ever since, he was the only one who knew how to run the farm anyhow. He had worked with my pa for years, runnin' the place for my pa when he got sick. I mean, it's a lotta sad memories but it was so long ago that I don't rightly get worked up about it no more when my mind gets to wanderin'.
But like I was sayin' anyhow, Valentine's Day weren't never a big thing on our farm for as long as I can remember. When I still went for schoolin', they'd have us pass out cards to girls and boys alike, but it weren't nothin' romantic. Frankly, though I was like any other young woman, with feelin's and urges, I never rightly understood 'em, least of all what to do with 'em.
