2017 erotic stories: State of Affair – Chapter 3
Fiction, Blowjob, Consensual Sex, Job/Place-of-work, Romance, Teen Male/Teen Female
Eightteen year olds getting to know one another after an accidental inadvertant consumation of a nonexistant relationship.
Day 2 7/10/??
The sun shining through the window didn’t wake me up.
It was something warm and wet wrapped around 2 inches of my penis again. I whipped the covers off me and found Mitzi smiling at me as best she could with my cock in her mouth.
“You startled me! I thought it was a rerun of yesterday. Turn about fair play Mitzi, put your pussy over my face and we’ll give each other as good as we get.”
She turned her butt toward my face and straddled me. The daylight through the window above the headboard of our bed gave me excellent visibility of her beautiful pussy.
I parted the lips of her vulva and licked from the top to the bottom, which threw Mitzi into serious sucking and tonguing and moaning that caused me to go from half-cocked to full-bore hardon in a split second.
I took it slow under Mitzi with slow licks the length of her channel, tongue probing deep as I could, sucked her clitoris between my lips and licked and nipped it seven or eight times, fingered and found her G-Spot, while the other hand was massaging her breasts and nipples.
The vibrations of her moaning got everything boiling down there, and I lost control. “I’m Cumming!”
Mitzi tightened her lips on my cock and accelerated the moaning, sucking, and tonguing ’til I exploded in her mouth. She didn’t release me, and I sped up what I was doing to her breasts, clitoris, and G-Spot, she had two huge screaming orgasms, and passed out.
I gently rolled her off me, tossed a small blanket over her, put my undershorts on, so I wouldn’t dribble all over the place, went to the bathroom, piddled, then washed my hands.
The ham and hash-browns fried in a skillet, while I scrambled four jumbo eggs in a bowl with a half a cup of milk (the milk helps them fluff up in the skillet).
Flipped the ham and hash-browns, glanced at the clock and waited five minutes, turned the burner off, and put the ham and hash-browns on a plate and set it in the microwave.
I stirred the scrambled eggs a couple turns and poured ’em in the skillet. Turned the burner to medium and waited for the eggs to firm up like a pancake. Flipped the eggs, and turned the burner off.
I cut the egg patty in half like a pizza, and put them on the plate with the ham and hash-browns, back in the microwave.
Mitzi wasn’t on the bed when I walked in, I thought I heard her in the bathroom and found her in the shower.
I drop-kicked my shorts to the side and joined her in the shower. I was a little easier on her this time while lathering her up and scrubbing her.
The shower is a three valve set up: Cold and Hot and the middle valve controls the flow without changing the temperature.
Mitzi turned the flow down to a gentle rain, and put her arms around my neck, “You were stoic and all business-like scrubbing me so aggressively the first time in the shower.
“You made me face you while you soaped my shoulders and each of my arms to the tips of my fingers, then you pulled me against you and put my arms over your shoulders, soaped my back from the top of my shoulders to a little below my waist.
“I thought why isn’t he using a washcloth? “Surely that would be more efficient. “Then I felt my clitoris reacting to what you were doing with your hands at the small of my back, and suddenly I was more aware of your cock standing straight mashed between us, my breasts, my… every part of me was enjoying every pleasure!
“You went down on one knee and scrubbed your way down my legs front and back, picking up each foot, washing, massaging, running your fingers between my toes, reminding me of seeing a brood mare getting her hoofs cleaned, trimmed, and shod.”
“I didn’t think of shoeing you.”
“The nails would have hurt.”
“You already have fine looking nails. “I know I can’t improve on that.”
“I realized you had been multitasking.”
“Under the guise of bathing me, you were learning me. You were as thorough with me as you are with farming.
“You made sure you were between me and the shower door, so I couldn’t get away and miss something good about what we were doing, you were seeking to improve my pleasure with you, because your pleasure comes from pleasing me.”
“I admit I was a little predatory. I imagine it’s the testosterone.”
“You turned my back to you and lathered me from the top of my shoulders to my breasts and belly and pussy.
Working up and down, up and down mainly concentrating on my breasts, which must be a man thing. Obsession might be the right word for it. I didn’t want it to stop.
“You were kissing and nipping my neck on both sides, I loved your gentle pinching and massaging my nipples, rubbing from just outside the edge of the areola to the tips of the nipples over and over, turning me on and on and on. All of this happening less than an hour after we met. Surreal with a capital “S!”
“You scrubbed the crack of my ass so much I was afraid you were going to poke me.”
“I’m not into anal. I’ve read a little bit about it in erotic stories, but there’s no heart-felt love in it, no romance. I’m a die-hard romantic.”
“Thank you, and you saved the best for the last when you scrubbed hard on my twat. I think you nailed my clit a couple dozen times, and I orgasmed so hard I thought I would collapse on the floor, but found myself sitting on your knee. The scalp massage was a heavenly bonus!”
“You’re welcome. Obviously my pleasure. Twat?”
“It’s hard to be prim and proper in the middle of a series of full scale orgasms. Yes I’m tossing twat on the table, so to speak, in the mix with cunt, pussy, vagina, and vulva.
What did you call it? Warm and Fuzzy, that was nice. I like it.”
After breakfast Mitzi checked all the fluid levels in the 240 Tractor, like she had seen me do before she had gone in the cabin to change clothes, and find something for us to eat on the run yesterday.
I still had fifteen minutes of greasing to do.
“May I start it?”
“Sure! Once it’s running adjust the throttle to nine hundred rpm.”
I showed her everything I could, while raking and baling hay yesterday.
She drove the 120T an hour while I worked on my Thesis, and two hours in the 240T, so I wasn’t surprised when the tractor started perfectly.
I noticed Uncle Bill and Sam watching us from the Barn. He gave us a thumbs up.
I put the Grease and Fluids Cart back where it belonged, and climbed up to the cab, Mitzi had the door open for me, and I told her she’s driving. She gave me a deer in the headlights look, almost said something and backed into the driver’s seat.
She got us rolling in first gear with the engine idling, it’s less than two miles an hour.
“I can’t drive this on the road Paul. What if something goes wrong?”
“I hope something does.”
“What! Why would you want something going wrong? That’s, that’s crazy!”
“Sometimes the hard way is the best way to learn. I can’t turn you loose on your own in a field until you’ve dealt with more than a few problems Mitzi.”
“Not if I can help it. I’ll do everything I can to run two-man teams with you as part of the team.”
“How does that work?”
“You’ll be running the seed drill, mower, loader, tedder, rake, or the stack-wagon. While someone else will be in the same field doing the same, or a different job such as baling.”
“That’s a lot to learn.”
“You’ll do great. I’ll show you some videos of women in other countries driving bigger farm equipment than we use, and I’ll try to make the work you do as easy as I can.”
“My Mom drove sixteen hours a day, six days a week, three and a half months, four years ago on tractors far more primitive than the two you’ve driven so far.”
We were at the intersection, and I told her which gear to be in and what rpm we needed to start with. Once she got squared away on the two-lane, I had her bump the rpms up, so we were going twenty miles an hour.
“Mitzi, the tractors we have now will spoil you. There is the three hundred sixty degree visibility eight feet above ground. The power you have at hand, geared like a locomotive at the rear axle can pick this tractor straight up off the ground. All the controls are user friendly.”
“Uncle Bill and I have an almost total intolerance for discomfort in our tractor cabs. Our filtered HVAC units draw a tad bit of makeup air through a pre-filter to pressurize the cab keeping dust from infiltrating through cracks.
“The roof is sixteen inches wider all the way around, insulated, and painted white on top to reduce heat-gain in the cab during the summer.
“Our cabs are isolated from nearly all of the mechanical vibrations, the seat has an adjustable suspension under it, so you can adjust it for your comfort, right now it’s set up for my weight.”
“Sometime soon we’ll look at new tractors at Farm Equipment Dealerships, and you’ll know how much we improved the noise abatement situation in our cabs. One farmer paid an extra thousand for the last tractor we rotated out, he knew what he was getting.”
Mitzi nodded and smiled while keeping her eyes on the road.
I got a clipboard from behind the buddy-seat and happened to have an index card on it. I printed Mitzi Maitham on the card and tucked it in her shirt pocket, and returned the clipboard to it’s place behind the buddy seat.
“When you have adjusted the seat for your ride. Write the settings on the index card I put in your pocket, then clip it with the other index cards on your upper right. “It’ll stay there until we detail the tractor to sell or trade.”
She nodded again. “Thank you.”
I told her about the hazards; mud flats, rough terrain, washouts, fence-rows, and trees.
“One of our sprayers unfolds to eighty feet wide, and we’ve had a couple of mishaps with it.”
“When I was ten, I got a shorter sprayer tangled up in a fence-row. It did a little bit of damage and Grandpa was thankful I wasn’t hurt, but I never want to see him mad at me like that again.”
I talked with Mitzi about my philosophy of using equipment. “You can push your equipment to the limit, and try to save time by bouncing the equipment in each direction you want it to go while carelessly forcing the equipment to work beyond normal wear and tear, but having to repair equipment as a result; is costly, nonproduction time, and cuts into the profitability of using the equipment.
“I would rather spend more time not tearing up equipment, than time repairing equipment. There is normal wear and tear, and preventive maintenance is not a necessary evil. It is a blessing in disguise, because it reduces overhead and downtime for repairs.”
Mitzi did all the baling while I was on the phone four or five times.
One call was from Baler Inc’s Chief Engineer Evan Cole, because they wanted to look at the Pickup we built to replace their weak pickup on a Baler they manufactured.
“I have everything you need on a thumb-drive Mr Cole. You can print the patterns full size on one of your Blue-print size printers. All the parts are drawn in an exploded view with dimensions, plus there is a parts list of everything, right down to part numbers.”
“All we need are waivers signed to protect us from rogue management suing us over design and copyright infringement. You already know our Attorney, and he’s waiting for your call.”
“Goodness, that’s really nice of you Paul. I’ll have Legal call George Maitham, and sign off the waivers. Thanks again.”
I called Mom and arranged for Mitzi to go to the Doctor appointment with Janice.
While passing through town to the next field. We found an empty used car lot to park the tractor-baler rig and talked with the Dealer and was told they were restocking tonight. I handed him a twenty telling him to have lunch on me.
We started across the street to the Courthouse, but I saw a Lot-boy at the Dodge Place, parking a short bed crew-cab that looked like a Dodge Cummins, so we doubled back to take a look at it.
I saw Frank had just finished talking with someone. “Yo! Frank tell me about this rig.”
“It was a three year lease. The guy brought it in this morning and drove a new one out.”
“What do you want for it?”
He rattled off a number.
“That’s what I paid for my five year old, almost three years ago”
“I know, are you gonna take it?”
“Ninety five percent chance, can we test drive it?”
Mitzi drove out to the bypass and to the far end of the city and back through town.
“This rig has been treated well, and maintained in a timely manner. I know it’s a good deal, what do you think?”
“It’s great! I love the visibility, runs quiet in overdrive, and it sounds awesome, like it has balls! You’re right. Driving the tractors spoiled me. I thank you for this truck. I know I don’t want one of those wee wee cars.”
I paid for the pickup, and gathered up the paperwork and Frank gave me a manila envelope, shook hands, and Mitzi and I walked to the Courthouse to get our marriage license.
After lunch, we went to the farthest field and worked three fields back to the Barn.
We got home about 9:30, showered, and went to bed tired.
Sex that night could be best described as; “dead in bed.
I thank the readers for their votes.
State of Affair 4
Day three 7/11/??
I awoke and rolled off the bed, headed for the bathroom. “I need to go too.”
I turned back and gave Mitzi a hand to help her up and out of bed.
She didn’t release my hand as we walked to the bathroom. “You first, I can wait.”
“Thank you.” Mitzi did her thing, then I did my thing, and we brushed our teeth, returned to bed.