A Roll in the Hay

"Perhaps. There are other ways so it might not be lying to him. I must dash, bye."

As the pickup roared off Paris said dramatically, "He doesn't love me. He left without kissing me."

"Poof darling. That means nothing. Men are like that," Maggie said, revealing hard-earned wisdom.

Paris told her mother about the hotel fire and aborted sex.

"Oh dear," Maggie said, her shoulders slumping. "Aren't we two in a mess?"

Just as Paris was about to start the final 100-jar run Maggie almost ran into the packing shed, beaming. "A Mrs White from the hotel called a few minutes ago," she said handing Paris a flask of coffee. She wanted to confirm your identity and that you are okay."

Paris shrugged and said thanks.

"Mrs White said all other guests wanted their money back for having a disrupted night and that has been done plus issuing vouchers for two complimentary meals. She said your fiancé demanded two nights in the honeymoon suite and she was pleased to confirm management has agreed to that plus two dinners plus a complimentary bottle of champagne on your first night.

"Fiancé...honeymoon suite?"

"Yes and that's the guy who supposedly doesn't like you. I've decided to do a lamb roast tonight, as he needs building up. The hotel offer commences as soon as the kitchen facilities and restaurant and fully operational again."

Maggie helped her daughter with the final jam bottling run, listening to Paris singing.

CHAPTER 3

Gilman's mother and his two sisters-in-law were disappointed Paris had not come with him as they'd wanted to check out the woman he'd apparently latched on to. When Beth and Suzie went off to dress Gilman spoke to his family and won immediate agreement. Two years ago his parents had built an 800 sq ft family room on to the side of their house incorporating an en-suite for their bedroom adjoining the extension.

Gilman was handed the plans and specification and bothers David and Lenny agreed to spend a week building the extension to the Jenks' house, joining Gilman and a registered builder. Lenny called Sid Monks whom they'd worked with building their parents' extension and he agreed to run the project for $2000 plus all construction materials at cost. The framing would arrive pre-cut and assembled in sections and the roof trusses would also arrive ready to lift into place.

Lenny arriving back at the table had said, "Sid said once suppliers are told it's an emergency project for Reg Jenks the materials and projects will be invoiced at cost or even donated. Reg is a legend around these parts as the greatest footballer in this region's history and also representing the country in skeet shooting and then for what he put back into both sports as a coach and administrator for two decades."

"Are you going to marry Paris," his mom asked softly.

All eyes were on him. Gilman looked at the ceiling and mumbled, "Appears so." The family conference resumed with Bert looking at Jess and she nodded.

"Gilman, your mother and I have agreed to do something for you as it's obvious that Lenny and David have put their backs into improving this farm so it's become their inheritance. Mom and I would like to buy you a good piece of land or give you the cash equivalent."

Gilman looked at his parents and grinned. "Thanks folk, I'll take the cash and buy my way back into my old university."

"Is that Chaplain still there?" his mom asked stonily.

"Oh yes, and his over-sexed daughters."

"In that case I want the money spent on land acquisition."

"Ah mom, you spoiler. I was only pulling your tit. Land would be fine, and thanks, I thought I was the Black Sheep."

Jess rubbed his hair and said he was lovely as a kid. "Any ideas about what land and we'd like to think about it?"

"Well, my mind has been ticking. As you know orchard farming is and up and down business and the Jenks have diversified and are now expanding into olives. The Thompson's on their northern boundary have allowed their farm to rundown but it's still rated as the best property in the district to finish off grass-raised cattle for market. Ted and Olive are both in their mid seventies and have no children. I've been thinking..."

"Good thinking son, " said his father. "Even if you split with the Jenks' girl it would remain a stand-alone operation. But integrate that income with the orchard income and you'd be amid a little gold mine. What say I have a little yarn with Olive and Ted at the club over dinner one night?"

"Yeah, why not? Just remember I have yet to talk romance to Paris"

Gilman's brothers chortled as if Gilman had just told them the joke of the year and even his parents looked at him in disbelief.

"That girl has an unladylike reputation and your reputation is bigger and dirtier," his mom sniffed.

His father topped that. "Is there something wrong with your gear" and everyone including the uncomfortable Gilman joined in the laughter.

On the way home that afternoon Gilman had everything apart from the council sewn up. Lenny had called two concrete workers who were big into skeet shooting and they were recruited as volunteers and David did the same with two former footballers. As Gilman arrived back at the orchard he saw the tractor and trailer half loaded in the doorway of the huge hay barn. Paris had said it was time to start laying out hay bales ready to break open and spread over the roots of the less hardy trees before the frosts and snows arrived. He found Paris asleep on a pile of ruptured hay bales, legs apart. That sent a lusty thought through his mind and he licked his lips. He stretched out beside her and went to sleep.

* * *

Paris awoke and stifling a yawn looked around and saw Dawn and Meg was fast asleep on the dirt floor. God, how long had she been asleep, slackening on the job? She flung out her right hand to help push up and realized she was pushing on a leg bone, a leg in softer trousers than jeans. She looked and smiled: Gilman was home.

Standing and brushing off hay she looked down fondly at Gilman and saw his legs were wide open and that made her think of sex. A Sunday late afternoon roll in the hay with a guy was not a bad idea, especially for a gal who hadn't had one for almost two months.

Grinning, hay in her hair, Paris slipped carefully between Gilman's legs. She didn't want him waking and finding some excuse to say no. Gently she unzipped him and had little difficulty hauling his cock out the side of his underpants because it was so shriveled.

Um, what now? It wasn't erecting or whatever guys called it.

Something inside her, something probably related to mothering instinct, guided her. Paris gently blew on the limp dick.

Nothing.

She blew on her hands, warming them, and grasped the wrinkled white object between two fingers against her warmed palms. Either it moved slightly or she was over-expecting. Paris applied another airstream.

Nothing.

But when she blew air straight on to the end of his dick it began to fatten in her hand. Encouraged she dropped it to rip open her shirt and drop her bra below her tits (yes, Paris though of them as tits when with a man as they liked that word -- well, most of them). She giggled softly at her silent ranting and her audacity. She picked up Mr Limp and placed it between her warm mounds. Mr Limp's color improved and strength began to flow into him.

Paris froze as Gilman stirred and muttered something that sounded like 'fat cattle.' His breathing rate slowed again and Paris resumed her quest to be fucked. She blew on the head, watching it closely. It thickened and the pee-hole became larger. She dabbed her tongue at it and shivered in excitement, feeling her breasts swelling and knowing her nipples would be uptight waiting to be caressed or lashed or even nibbled. Hopefully they'd get the lot. Paris dribbled a dob of saliva aiming right at the pee-hole.

Right on target!.

Well she'd have to be convulsing to have missed hovering that close.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh hello. I'm fucking you. Like to join me? We have been introduced and we are long overdue for this."

Stretching, Gilman laughed and said that was a convincing case. "Go ahead," he said, digging both hands into her short curly hair.

Paris could feel herself warming up and reached between her legs with her free hand to slap her pussy a few times, indicating to it to lube up and wait patiently. With that hand on the way back up she tweaked a nipple hard as confirmation it would not be forgotten. Grasping his dick in both hands, committing to taking the lot although earlier she'd declared it was too big for her, Paris slid her tongue around the helmet and grinned triumphantly as that earned a small groan from the beneficiary. She licked it four times, the last stroked she'd lifted it and continued right down to his hairy balls, earning a much longer groan from him.

She then went to work on to, attempting to perform like a champ, until finishing with a big swallow and with cum running out the sides of her mouth.

"How was that?" she said, pulling up and fluttering her eyelashes.

He looked at her starry-eyed and asked, "What planet am I on?"

God, Paris knew she would really love this man and that expectation would grow once he filled her with that dick.

Gilman stood and undressed, the two dogs eyeing him warily. Paris had the lewd thought of Meg coming in behind him and...she tried to block out that thought, convulsed and enjoyed an orgasm.

Gilman kissed her, licked her face and then kissed her deeply at their tongues touched. He then attended to her breasts and she swelled in pride when he lifted to tell her how beautiful they were.

"Thank you," she half panted. "My pussy..." She didn't finish, a little annoyed she was giving instructions. But he was a good boy and immediately went down on her and soon had his tongue buried, possible farther than any tongue had ever been buried in her. She wet it, but not with pee.

Gilman then sank into her, Paris guiding in his erection that perhaps was now even longer and fatter. She accommodated it with apparent ease, making her wonder what she'd been worried about. Perhaps in her desire for him to have a big one her mind had obligingly magnified it to satisfy her. She began rocking and he began pumping and she imagined Meg licking his balls and erupted.

"I felt that," he said. "Hope there are more left to come."

"Sure, an unlimited supply," she fanaticized.

Missionary was okay. Was it ever anything else? She thought about loaning Gilman to her mom, as she'd be in desperate need with her father incapacitated. That caused her to blow again and Gilman murmured good girl and Paris thought of Mr Samuels who was roughly her mom's age and mom and her friends after a few wines would refer to Mr Samuels as 'stickman'. Women together over liquor tended to become dirty, Paris thought as Gilman pulled out. What was he doing? He hadn't cum? Oh no, was he one of those one-shot guys and then she remembered the Chaplain's daughters and smiled, knowing a one-shot guy wouldn't take on two females simultaneously.

Gilman pulled her on to her side, smiling at her to boost her confidence and perhaps expectations, and lifted her leg high. She grabbed it and pulled it back almost level with her ear, opening herself wide and she smiled noting his pleasure that she had that flexibility. He knelt below her on the pile of hay and Paris gurgled loudly in delight as she was pulled on to his dripping cock to rest partly on his left hip. She puffed and he penetrated so far in that probably only a dildo had preceded him at that distance. He pulled her raised leg towards him to hook an arm around it for balance and leverage and satisfied he had a stable platform began stroking into her, telling her it wasn't necessary for her to move.

"Good. I have hay up my butt."

"I'll hook it out with my dick when we've finished here," he said, grinning evilly.

Gawd, she hadn't been butt-fucked for years. Or was he joking? Well it didn't matter; that was something they could try on the second night in the honeymoon suite.

Gilman began talking to Paris and she listened wide-eyed. He told her he expected to have the house extension completed in two weeks including a concrete ramp that would allow her father to be wheeled straight into the SUV that would be driven up on the extended driveway beside it. Once her father was stronger and more mobile he'd be able to go down the ramp in his wheelchair or walking frame, perhaps unassisted.

"You darling boy. You are so wonderful," she said. "It's miraculous that you have come into the life of my family."

Paris stared at him, thumping back at him. Gilman began sweating and his brow attempted to knot itself. She squeezed on his thrusting cock.

"O-o-o-o-h," Gilman groaned feeling his release coming at him like a runaway train. "Paris my only love. Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" she screamed. "Roll me in the hay like this and I'm yours for life." Paris screamed even louder, almost fainting as she bucked into her biggest release ever. She thought she'd call Mr Samuels in the morning to arrange him to do his annual servicing of the packing machinery and the jam bottling plant. She thought of Mr Samuels also servicing her mother -- she and Gilman should go away from the orchard that day -- and wham, she has hit again and she was wet with sweat. Then just as she fell back to rest, exhausted, Meg came at her licking her chops and nose held high, catching the scent.

"Fuck off Meg," she yelled, and slammed into another release and being swept by the horrible thought she was so tuckered out she'd have to be carried back to the house. But she smiled. At least she was back into getting it regularly again.

Gilman then began, almost mumbling, to tell her about the plan to purchase the farm next door, to integrate the two properties after the retirement of her parents and they must retain the existing name of the Jenks' Family Orchard. Once they were married she should call herself Paris Philips-Jenks.

Paris yawned deeply, eyelids fluttering.

"Oh you are such a lovely boy," she sighed, thinking what a perfect afternoon it had been. But then he asked hopefully, "Ready to go again?"

THE END