It was a typical hot summer in a typical small midwestern town. Dust hung over the fields, stirred up by farm equipment, and drifted over the downtown area. Downtown consisting of a general store, a diner, the town hall/police station and Green’s Hardware and Feed Store where I worked. There were a handful of other small businesses filling the two blocks of Reed Street in downtown Doylesville. Continuing along Reed past the railroad tracks you reach the residential district of Doylesville, a handful of small homes and three larger properties at the west end of town. My name is Adam McKay; my family had a farm north of Reed Street. Most of the properties surrounding the town were family farms.
At 18 I was happy to be done with high school for the year. Farm life wasn’t for me, so my father had helped me find a job with Mr. Green. After years helping on the farm I was fairly strong and able to handle the heavy lifting at Green’s. I was 5-10, muscular, sandy blonde hair and gray eyes. Life in a small town has its advantages, but then there was the downside. By luck of the draw Doylesville didn’t have many teen girls in my age range. Our small local school was mostly farm boys. So, yes, I was lacking in experiences. This brings me back to the summer of 1978. Mr. Green would let me drive the store’s truck to make deliveries to farms knowing I could load and unload as necessary. Towards the end of the second week in June he asked me to load up the truck with bags of dirt and seed and bring it to the Carlson’s out past the tracks.
The Carlsons had one of the bigger homes in town with a large mostly undeveloped lot behind them. Mr. Carlson was a salesman who often traveled, leaving his wife Jackie at home. To occupy her time he’d agreed to develop part of the property into a garden. Mr. Carlson had been in Green’s ordering supplies for the garden and materials to build a fence around a portion of the backyard. I drove up to the Carlson’s home. Classic wrap around porch, well maintained front yard, late model sedan in the driveway. Mr. Carlson showed me where to store everything and explained where the fence would go. He was friendly enough; although just about ten years older than me he tried to project himself as much older. As I transported the heavy bags to the backyard I noticed Jackie Carlson for the first time. Working in the heat my t-shirt was plastered to my chest and my bare arms glistened with sweat. She waved to me from the back deck.
“Adam, would you like something cold to drink? I have lemonade.”
“I’m almost finished, that would be great Mrs. Carlson.” When I’d finished I went to the porch where she had set a tall cold glass of lemonade. She stood watching in a lightweight summer dress. Jackie was maybe 25 or so, but no doubt the prettiest woman I’d ever seen. Not that I’d seen too many pretty young women in boring old Doylesville. I tried not to stare, but I stole a few glances. About 5-5, slim, nice legs showing beneath the hem of her dress, she was a breath of fresh air on a dusty summer afternoon. I finished my drink.
“Thank you Mrs. Carlson.”
“You may call me Jackie. Mrs. Carlson makes me sound OLD.” Then she laughed. Ah what a laugh. Light, sweet, friendly. “Will you be making the other deliveries? This is a big project. We may need some help too.” She cocked an eyebrow when I didn’t answer immediately. She must have known the effect she had on me, probably on most men. I caught myself.
“Oh, um, yes I guess. Mr. Green has me make most deliveries now. It’s easier on his back.”
“Do you do extra work? My husband travels so much this fence and garden will take forever. I like to plant the flowers, but there’s so much dirt to move. I can ask him if he’d hire you.”
“I can always use extra money. I’m saving for a car. Then I can get out of Doylesville sometimes. Mr. Green won’t mind as long as I get my work done at the store.”
“Oh good! I’ll talk to Roger. And it would be nice to have someone to talk to around here.”
Roger seemed satisfied with where everything was stored and said he would speak to Mr. Green. When I got home I headed back towards my room and grabbed a change of clothes for a shower. It had been a long sweaty day and I looked forward rinsing off the dust. As the water cascaded over me I found my thoughts going back to Jackie Carlson. Her lightweight clothes loose and flowing around her. The smile. The bit of her bare lower leg. At 18 it didn’t take much. My cock lengthened and thickened. I looked down. From what I’d seen in the high school showers I had nothing to be ashamed of. I reached down and took hold of my cock, lightly stroking at first as I tried to imagine what was hiding under Jackie’s dress. No luck. I didn’t have enough experience to imagine a real woman. Instead I remembered the time Patty Kent had met me behind the bleachers. She was a grade behind me and we were fumbling and making it up. She let me feel her small breasts through her shirt. She rubbed my cock through my jeans. I increased the pace, the memory of one of my few sexual experiences got me there and I spurted multiple times onto the shower wall. Somewhat satisfied, I cleaned up and joined the family for dinner. Later that night, alone in my room, the windows open to catch any breeze, I again stroked my cock and thought of Jackie. Hey, I was 18.
For the next week I mostly dropped off supplies. Then in late June everything was in place and I started working for the Carlson’s some evenings and on weekends. Roger directed me in how he wanted the fence and gardens laid out and we ran string to mark the boundaries. I mostly saw Jackie from afar, except when she’d offer me a drink. I imagined that she was admiring my strong physique under my sweat soaked t-shirt and gym shorts. I was certainly admiring her as I tried not to be too obvious stealing glances at her legs in shorts or her tanned arms showing from her soft cotton shirts. Then of course there was the magical swell of her breasts in those same shirts. She didn’t appear to have large boobs, but the hint and little jiggle of her modest breasts were enough to cause a swell in my shorts. I think she enjoyed my minor discomfort. She didn’t flirt exactly. More, she was friendly and approachable, not snobby, not treating me like hired help.
The last week of June Mr. Carlson was away. My tasks for the week were to finish spreading the dirt for the garden areas then dig holes for the fence posts. Since this required long hours in the summer sun I arrived at the Carlson house at about 8 am to take advantage of the relatively cooler hours. I was well into my work when Jackie appeared on the back deck in shorts and a light cotton shirt. She asked if I’d like a drink, but I said I’d wait until I’d finished the section I was raking. When I was done I sat on the deck with her to get some shade and cool down. We talked about growing up in Doylesville. Jackie’s experience was coincidentally almost a complete opposite of mine. During her teen years there happened to be mostly girls in town. Then a few years ago when Roger Carlson moved to Doylesville he seemed a perfect catch. Intelligent, hardworking, driven to succeed, he quickly opened a business and was off, travelling to increase business and move up in the world. When he asked Jackie what she wanted, she told him she’d always wanted to live in one of the big homes out the end of Reed Street. When they were married, he drove her to their new home, right where we were sitting. It was fun, but also lonely at times. Some of the girls she knew from high school now considered her snobby. When Jackie reached for my cup her hand touched mine. The electric shock ran through my body. She quickly recovered and picked up the glass. I took a quick sip and got back to my work. When I’d finished another section I went back to the house to get the hose to water over the area so it wouldn’t turn to dust. The hose wasn’t really long enough, another item to add to the future purchases list at Green’s, so I had to turn it all the way up. I was waving it back and forth spraying the garden areas when Jackie walked up behind me. When she spoke it startled me and I jumped, losing control of the hose. It began snaking around drenching both of us.
“I’m sorry Jackie, oh wow, I didn’t”
“No, no it’s my fault walking up behind. Come to the deck and dry off.” I followed her to the deck. The white outfit she was wearing was now skin tight and partially see through. When she turned I could see her breasts. Two perfect upturned breasts topped with hard nipples pressing against the fabric.
“Adam, take your shirt off to dry.”
I did it without thinking. Then caught myself staring at her breasts. When I looked up I saw she was staring at me. With a sharp intake of breath she looked down from my muscular chest.
“You may want to take these off too.” Jackie went down on one knee. She slid my shorts down and looked up at me as her hand felt the obvious erection in my underwear. Now I sucked in a mouthful of air then let a moan escape. Jackie stood and looked me in the eye. Then she removed her sodden shirt and pulled my head down to her shoulder. She whispered in my ear, “You must never tell anyone, ever.”
I could only moan, “MM, hmm” She reached behind and released her bra. When it fell I was now with the first pair of real live naked breasts ever offered to me. I tentatively reached up and held one in my hand. It was heavenly. Soft, firm, light, but heavy, pale, with the dark nipple on the upturned tip.
“Go ahead, touch me. Hold me tight.” I wrapped my arms around her. She sighed as she felt me gripping her tight. I say back on a chair and she sat on my lap. Her beautiful bare breasts were now before me and I sucked at one nipple, kissed around her breast, then the other. Jackie seemed to need to feel me holding her, she ran her hands along my arms, down my chest. “So, strong. Mmm, I like your arms, and chest.” I felt her body, her back, her thin arms, the swell of her hips. She held my face in her hands and brought her lips to mine.
I’d kissed a few girls, but nothing like this. Jackie opened her mouth to mine. I fumbled my way through catching clues from her as she offered her tongue all the while caressing my arms and back. I could feel the warmth from between her legs as my hard cock pressed against her. She moved her hips ever so slightly caressing me with her parts. Parts I’d never seen outside of a magazine or two. My cock was throbbing against her begging for release. Jackie kissed me hard then leaned back.
“Take off your shorts.” I obeyed. She slid off of me onto her knees to get a good look at my cock. She lifted it in her hand. Smiled.
“Just as I expected. It’s big and strong just like you.” She wrapped her hand around it stroking slowly, feeling the veins running down the side and under. She hefted my balls in her hand. Then looked up at me. I was nervous. Nude with a woman. A real woman. Uncertain what to do, afraid to mess up.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/rzvxk9/lost_my_virginity_while_working_at_the_farm_part
Has me at attention!
Nice short story