Twinkle, Twinkle My Wishing Star

PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

She screamed as loud as she could. With her skirt bunched up around her waist, her panties pulled down to her ankles, her trimmed blonde pussy exposed, her blouse torn open, and her bra pushed up to her shoulders, had his secretary not walked in on them and had this not already happened to her, too, without a witness, she wouldn't have had a sexual harassment case. Only, this time, unlike his secretary, who didn't bite down on his cock and who was forced to swallow all of his cum, Audrey had his DNA evidence all over her stained and ruined silk blouse, in the way that Monica Lewinski had Bill Clinton's DNA all over her famed, blue dress.

With the other sexually harassed women, five in total, joining in the civil lawsuit to sue Multinational Bank and their Senior Vice-President, settling out of court, each of the plaintiffs won an undisclosed settlement from the bank and, personally, from Mr. Wilson. Because of his money and influence, his importance with the bank, and his team of defense attorney's at his disposal, a rape charge against him was dropped, when the sex was oxymoronically judged inappropriately sexually harassing, but somehow consensual. Accepting the out of court settlement he and the bank paid her enough money for her to buy a new car, pay off her debts, and start a new life elsewhere. Unable to fire her, after her sexual harassment lawsuit and with the bank admitting no guilt or wrongdoing, but for her to keep her job, as the bank's payback, they transferred her from the corporate home office in the city to a small branch office in farm country. After mildly disciplining their moneymaking Vice President, by having him take a sexual harassment course, the bank blamed her for embarrassing them.

* * * * *

With a reason for everything and with none of us knowing why, Audrey and Paul met more by chance than by circumstance, when he walked in her small bank, one day. A man beholding and indebted to no one, but willing to give a helping hand and a handout to a stranger in need, he had come to her small branch bank to finance a loan on a parcel of land he wanted to buy, after the farmer next to him was ready to retire and sell. Being that she worked at the bank, as the assistant bank manager, she helped him navigate through the myriad of paperwork. Normally, personally and practically knowing every resident in the county, the branch manager would have helped him with the loan, but he was on vacation. When his loan was approved the next week, she was rewarded with a dozen long, stemmed roses, the first and last time he ever bought her flowers. Having never met anyone like him, kindly sincere, and uniquely different from the rudely impatient and needy men she dated in the city, she thought he was her sweet, strong, dream man, until discovering that he was just a hick farmer.

The flowers led to drinks and dinner and then an invitation to see his farm the next day. It was when she drove through the scenic countryside, especially after learning her bank was having financial difficulties and needed to lay off several dozen employees, possibly even having to close her small branch office and replace it with an ATM station, for customer convenience, of course, that she wondered what it would be like to give up working at the bank to work on Paul's farm. After he gave her a tour of his main house, his land, and the farm, he showed her the barn. Once she hit the barn, she never left.

"Well, here it is. This is it. This is the barn," he said pushing back his John Deere baseball cap, rolling up his sleeves, and putting a hand to his hip, as if getting ready to wrestle a hog or plow a field. Then, discarding a strand of hay that he had been mindlessly chewing, he gave her an amorous look that made her wonder if she should stay or flee.

She recognized that look, the look that all men have, when seeing her in the light of day for the first time. Strikingly so blonde and stunningly so beautiful, as if seeing a field of fragrant heather for the first time, a born and bred city girl, she looked like no farm girl ever looked. With the long lustful look that he gave her, she could tell that he was smitten with her. He had that look, the look of sexual desire that men have, when being away at sea too long or after just having come home from war.

Staring at her with sexual interest, he had the look that a man has before making his intentions clear and his feelings for her known. Just as several men have done to her, when living in the big city, after she had a little too much to drink at a club, when out with her girlfriends, they touched and felt her everywhere, while trying to kiss her and convince her to go home with them. She resisted them then, as she figured she'd resist Paul now. Just as she tried to fight off her boss, when he groped her and practically stripped her naked, while forcing her down to her knees to suck him, before trying to fuck her up the ass, she didn't need for another man to have his wicked way with her. A bit leery of his intentions, if it came to that, she'd fight this farmer off, too. Yet, tired of fighting arrogant and ill mannered city men, eager to embrace her new life with a real man, a country boy, suddenly and inexplicably with him, she was ready for love.

"I've never been inside a barn before," she said looking around, while noticing the growing bulge he had in his overalls, before looking up at him with flirty eyes and giving him her best innuendo. "It's so big, even bigger than it appears from the outside."

With her head up and her eyes cast to the rafters, as if looking up at a ceiling in a cathedral, when she turned to focus her look on him, he put an arm around her waist, pulled her to him, and kissed her. As if testing her, the kiss was a not much more than a peck. Different from the time when Mr. Wilson grabbed her about the waist and kissed her, somehow she felt safe with Paul.

Not expecting to be kissed by him, especially now and especially in a barn, of all places, shocked by his forwardness, after he had been so politely shy and so well mannered during their business dealings at the bank, when she pulled away and their eyes connected and locked, her heart fluttered. As if her look was his go ahead invitation, he took a step forward and kissed her again, this time longer. With a hand around her waist and another around her back, he slipped her his tongue this time, but she delayed the return of his passion.

A bit gun shy, after having been sexually assaulted by Mr. Wilson, resisting his advances at first, she raised her hands and pressed them against his strong shoulders. Unsure if she should push him away or pull him forward, torn if she should stay or flee, already knowing where his actions would surely go, she wondered where else this would lead. Then, once she wrapped her arms around his strong neck and surrendered him her tongue, her decision was already made up in her mind to stay.

As if checking a heifer, before buying her at auction, he touched and felt her everywhere through her clothes, while kissing her and, excited by his touch, she let him. A man who knew what he wanted, not one to be denied, she liked the feel of his strong hands, as well as his confidence. Obviously, he thought that he could seduce someone like her, as if he already knew that he could. With one kiss leading to another and another, still emotionally hurting from having been raped, she surprised even herself, when she allowed him to strip off her clothes.

Always a bit adventurous, having had sex in a car before with her college date, on a beach at sunrise with a surfer, in the water with her scuba diving instructor, even having sex in an open field with a naturalist, a first time for everything, she never had sex in a barn with a farmer before. While still kissing her, he pushed her up against the horse stall and slowly unbuttoned her blouse. With each unbuttoned button, she looked down with him to see what he could see of her. Never had she felt such excitement from being only partially exposed. Suddenly wanting him, as much as he wanted her, after trying to act like a man in making her way in a man's world with the bank, never has she felt like such a woman.

With him having already worked half the day, before she met him at his farm, smelling differently than any white collared man she ever dated, smelling of dried sweat, he smelled the way that a man should smell. Preferring this new smell over one masked by overpowering cologne, she liked the musky, manly aroma of him. Like rough rawhide and worn leather, reminding her of her worn, rough textured scrubbing loofah, before tossing it out, after buying a new one, his calloused hands felt good against her soft skin.

Her excitement grew, when he flayed open her blouse and touched, cupped, and fondled her breast, while gently fingering and pulling out her nipples through her bra. It excited her for him to not only see her body but also to touch and feel her body. Then, when he reached down and unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, struggling to pull them down with one hand, while still kissing her, she stopped him, not to deny him his pleasure with her but, in an anticipated act of mutual delight, to help him.

"Let me," she said excitedly in the way she feels, when just about to take a rollercoaster ride.

"No," he said kissing her, before falling to his knees and looking up at her with soulful eyes. "I want to do this. I need to do this. After my wife died, it's been a long time, since I've been with a woman," he said looking up at her.

Slowly with great delicacy and respect, he pulled down her jeans to exposed her pink belly, her pink, bikini panty clad pussy, and her long, shapely legs. Supporting her with one hand, with a gentle hand to her panty clad buttocks, allowing her to lean on his strong back, he removed her jeans with his other hand. Still on his knees and inhaling, as if checking the freshness of a stack of hay, he placed two hands to her buttocks and pulled her to him. With his face buried in her panty clad pussy, she gasped, as he licked her through the thin material of her panties, before he slowly removed them. Now, lapping up her sweet, warm wetness with his tongue, he probed and explored the depth of her with his long, strong fingers.

Dressed in only her unbuttoned blouse and bra, he licked and fingered her, while she stood over him and watched. When the intensity of his tongue became too much, she supported herself with her hands to his broad shoulders, before putting a hand to the back of his head and pulling his face closer towards her, while closing her eyes. Slowly, gently, and rhythmically humping his mouth with her hips, she toyed with his chestnut brown hair with her fingers, in the way that he toyed with her clit with his fingers and tongue. Having only just met the man twice, something she ordinarily would never do, until after several dates, she couldn't believe she allowed him to strip her nearly naked and go down on her.

"Don't stop. Please, don't stop, Paul," she said with panicked desperation, as if he wouldn't complete the act, before finishing.

Only, whether baling hay, plowing fields in readiness for planting, and stringing new wire on fence posts that ran for a mile, farmer Paul always finished everything that he started out to do.

"You have a beautiful pussy, Audrey," he said fingering her faster and deeper, while licking her longer. "I love the taste of you," he said stopping only long enough to speak.

"Oh, my God. I'm going to cum, Paul. You're going to make me have an orgasm. Oh, my God. I'm going to cum. I'm going cum. Don't stop. Please, don't stop licking me and fingering me. Just don't stop."

Teasing her with subtle flicks and hard licks, the intensity of his tongue increased with the depth and speed of his finger. Finger fucking her, while licking her clit, she was on the verge of cumming in his mouth and when she did, she screamed her excitement loud enough to disturb her audience of farm animals. With the cows mooing, the mule braying, and the horses whinnying, never having had such a draining orgasm as that, she crumpled in his arms. As if picking up a new born calf or colt to hose down, he carried her to lay her upon a fresh stack of fragrant hay, before removing his overalls and underwear. With his cock sticking straight out and at the ready, giving his banker more than a friendly customer handshake, this country farmer was ready to seal the deal with a good long, hard fucking.

She reached out, took him in her hand, and stroked him, while he looked down at her to watch. Looking up at him with her big, blue eyes, wanting to give him the pleasure that he just gave her, she leaned forward to take him in her mouth. Stroking him, while sucking him, making him harder with her lips, tongue, and mouth, while stroking him faster and sucking him deeper, wanting him to cum in her mouth, when she cupped his balls, he pulled away from her.

"Dang woman, if you suck on me like that any longer, I won't be able to satisfy you, too."

"I don't mind, Paul, really I don't. You've already give me a beautiful orgasm. I want you to cum in my mouth," she said wrapping her hand around his cock again, while fondling the head of his penis with her fingers and before taking him in her mouth again.

"No," he said, taking a step back. "I want to make love to you, Audrey," he whispered, while lowering himself down to her and pushing her back in the soft hay. "It's been a long while, since I've been intimate with a woman," he said taking a condom from his pocket and protecting her from him.

"I can't believe how wet I am for you, Paul," she said reaching down to position and guide his cock inside of her, when he mounted her.

That was the beginning of Paul's sexual relationship with this big city, bank employee and Audrey's first time making love to a country farmer.

* * * * *

"La, di, dum, dum, doe, doe, doe. La, di, dum, dum, doe, doe, dee. Fa, so, la, la, la, la, la. De, de, de."

"Did you hear that? That was so beautiful," said Henry, the junior traveling salesman to his senior partner, John. "As if it was coming from Heaven above, I just heard an Angel singing in the far distance."

"That's no Angel," chuckled John. "That's Audrey. She's Paul's wife, the farmer up the road."

"Wow! She has a beautiful voice. I never heard anyone sing like that, not even Carrie Underwood sings like that. She should be making records instead of--"

"Listen," said John stopping the car by the side of the road and putting the gear in park, before grabbing Henry by the arm.

"What? What did I say?"

"You can't continue down this dead end road in the way that you do by meddling in other people's business. This isn't the big city. Shooting your mouth off about someone else's woman is not only bad for our business but also may get you killed. Audrey's another man's woman, Paul's wife, and unless you want a butt full of buckshot, best you mind your own damn business and not comment on her singing or anything else about her. Best you keep your mouth shut, your eyes focused on farmer Paul, and your mind on the business of selling farm tools, and not on his wife or his wife's singing voice."

"Why?" Filled with an I know more than you attitude, Henry made a sour face that made John roll his eyes.

"Why?" John looked at his student with exasperation. "Son, I can teach you how to sell farm tools, but I can't teach you what your Daddy should have, but didn't. Now if you don't have sense enough to stay away from another man's woman, then your time on this Earth will be short. Only, if you have eyes for another man's wife, then it's best we part our ways now. I'll drive you back to town, so that you can take the bus home."

John shot Henry a look that spanned two generations of experiences he had with belligerent and untrusting farmers chasing him off their property for misspoken words and/or furtive glances at their womenfolk. As it was, after all the stories about farmers' daughters, farmers don't take too kindly to traveling salesman and, other than being courteously polite, John learned long ago to keep his eyes to himself and his mind on selling farm tools.

"Okay, okay, just tell me why must I treat these shit kicking farmers with kid gloves? I don't see how complimenting a woman's singing voice is being disrespectful"

"You don't, huh?" John looked at his partner and slowly shook his head. "Just you being a stranger is enough to rile some of these farmers not to trust you enough to buy anything from you. In the case of farmer Paul, suffice to say that Audrey's singing is a festering sore that he hopes will scab over one day and heal their broken marriage. If it was up to him, she'd stop singing and get the crazy ideas she has about leaving him for a Hollywood singing career. Now, for you to add fuel to their fire with a comment and a compliment, well..."

"Okay, okay. I get it. I was only going to tell her that she has a beautiful voice, but if you'd rather I not then--"

"Other than hello, goodbye, and thank you very much, with farm tool details and prices in between, I'd rather you not say anything to farmer Paul, and especially not to his wife. It takes a long time for the folks around here to warm up to and trust a stranger and even longer, when some young man compliments their woman. Unaccustomed to receiving very many compliments, even their men folk don't compliment their womenfolk, other than to compliment them on their cooking or the quilt they made for the sofa. An unspoken bond, what's between a man and a woman out here is behind closed doors.

"I wouldn't have meant anything by my compliment," said Henry.

"A seemingly innocent compliment to you is a serious insult to them. You can't be meddling in people's business in these parts of the county. Just another unsolved crime statistic, with all this farmland with nothing in between but fields and ponds, with no neighbor and no sheriff for miles, years from now, some hunter's dog will find your decomposed remains buried in a shallow grave."

"Okay, okay," said Henry. "I get it. I do. I get it. I understand. I promise that I won't say nothing to no one."

"Do you really promise? I don't think you do get it, Henry," said John shooting him another cross look.

"Why? Is there something else I should know?"

"Yeah, actually, there is and I'm glad we're having this conversation now," said John trying to put things in a perspective that his junior partner would understand. "Did you ever read the book, The Postman Always Rings Twice?"

"No. I didn't know there was a book, but I saw the movie?"

"Which one? The one with John Garfield and Lana Turner or the remake with Jack Nicholson and Jessica Lange."

"The one with Jack Nicholson. I didn't know there was a first one. Wow, that scene where Jack knocks the bowl of flour to the floor and has sex on the kitchen table with Jessica--"

"Don't be thinking about having sex with another man's woman because The Postman Always Rings Twice, undoubtedly, is their unfinished story and it's a story that you don't want to be playing a starring role. Audrey is a good looking woman, the most beautiful woman in the county, maybe even in the whole state. Truthfully, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and I've seen some real beauties in my sixty-five years on the planet. A city girl that's, no doubt, feeling stuck in her marriage and stranded here, she'll be looking for a way off her farm and out of Paul's life. Best you not be the cornerstone in their little love triangle and show her the road to leave or you'll find yourself dead."

"Good looking?" John looked at Henry with renewed interest. "How good looking?"

"Is that the only thing you heard me say, is that she's good looking? Don't be going there, Henry. I have a mind to leave you here in the road and pick you up on my way back. Matter of fact, now that I think about it, when we drive up on the house, best you stay in the car," said John.