Doctor of Desire Ch. 09

Chapter 9: The Farmer's Daughter

Dr. Casey Darden was supposed to be off duty, as far from the bustle of Boston as he could get within a half-day's drive; rolling Hills of Western Mass.; the yoga center down the way where he had had a spectacular massage that morning by a sturdy Chinese woman who spoke almost no English.

Now he sat on the porch of his log cabin on the lake sipping a frozen daiquiri just watching the afternoon turn into evening; listening to the crickets. He felt zero need for companionship.

The growl of an engine rose on the other side of the pine forest and after a while a dusty, battered blue pickup crept up the unpaved road. It pulled up in front of his place and stopped. At first no one got out. Behind the glass of the double windshield Casey could make out a couple arguing with each other. Finally, the passenger door burst open and a woman in her fifties, a bit shop-worn but strong and attractive, lurched out and headed straight for Casey. She stopped in front of him, panting a bit.

"Can I help you? Is there some kind of trouble?"

"Might be. You that sex doctor? Got to be, I figure."

Casey nodded.

"Yes, well. She said you'd be up here."

The woman went silent. Casey just waited, rocking in his chair.

"We think, I think maybe you can help us."

Casey shook his head.

"This is my time off. I really hadn't planned ..."

"Figured you might say that. How about ten thousand dollars?"

The woman pulled a sheaf of bills out of her pocket and started counting. Casey noticed that the man in the truck was pounding the steering wheel.

"No. I couldn't."

"Look, Mister doctor. I can't go higher, but this thing has to be done."

"Are you and your husband ... having troubles?"

"Oh, he's always trouble, randy old goat. But he's fine, and I'm fine too, even if I am getting the change. Makes things easier as it is. Nev'mind. That ain't it. It's her."

"I'm sorry. Has your husband taken up with ..."

"Landsakes no. Least, not that I know of. No, it's not him. It's her."

Casey looked around, but there was no one else in the truck.

"Oh, no, she ain't here. She's back to the farm with her animals. All she ever cares about. I said, "I hear there's a nice lookin' doc down the road a piece. She don't even look up. Debeaking chicks. Waves me away like I was a fly."

"So she's happy. How can I ..."

"Sure she looks happy but I figure she ain't complete. She's most thirty-two and ain't got a fella; don't even have one come round for a 'visit'. An' she don't seem to be the kind with a ken for girls. We got some a them around here. Good people if you don't think about what they's doin'. I'm talkin' too much. Wastin' your time."

She dusted off her skirt and headed back toward the truck. Casey stood.

"I can talk to her."

"How much will that cost me? You figure you can get her sexed up with talk? I've heared a that."

Casey smiled.

"Nothing, to start with, though I'll bet you make a fine apple pie. That would do it."

The woman stopped, her skirt in her hands.

"Well, yeah. I could do that. Why don't you come to supper?"

Casey nodded. The woman came back to him, offered her hand.

"I'm Margaret. Margaret Deacons. That there is Abner in the truck. Our girl is Margaret too, but we call her Maggie. Son Billie died in the war."

"I'm sorry to hear it."

"Yes. Well you take your road out to nine. Go north about sixteen mile to twenty-three. West another 10. Off on Old Oak. Left at the end. On till you see a yalla house and a green barn. That's us. Seven o'clock."

"Seven o'clock."

Casey went for a quick swim, put on long pants and picked some flowers, then headed for the Deacons'.

He only got lost three times. Had to ask directions at a crossroads. There was a man, or a boy standing out in a field stuffing a scarecrow with corn shucks. Casey shouted twice but the boyman didn't even look up. It was getting dark and Casey didn't want to wander dark country lanes. He climbed a fence and walked toward the fellow. It wasn't until he got close that he realize the guy was huge. Towered over him. Had a huge forehead.

"Excuse me. I'm lost and need to find the Deacons' place. Can you help me?"

The boyman shook his head.

You don't know?

"Didn't say that."

"You know the Deacons' place?"

"Mmmhmm."

"But you won't help me?"

"Didn't say that."

"So can you ...?"

"'M not so good at directions. I can do, not so good at tellin'."

"You could show me."

"Nope. gotta do this, 'fore I lose ma corn."

"Try something for me, will you. Close your eyes. Tell me how you would walk there."

"OK. I climb the fence. I go thata way till I hit the crick. Take a drink. Swim if'n it's hot. Along the crick to the covered bridge. Go through the bridge and past those apple trees. Eat some apples if they is any. Go to the red barn on the side where you see the cigarettes is Deacons back pasture road. That bumps into the house near the bull paddock.

Get me some pie. Give 'em the corn."

"Now those were fine directions. Don't let anybody tell you you can't give them. Thank you."

"Sure."

"Your name?"

"Dinnie."

"Thanks again, Dinnie."

"Sure."

Casey followed Dinnie's directions to the letter and soon found himself in a barnyard next to a yellow house surrounded by free-range chickens.

Mrs. Deacons had him wash up even though he was clean. The house was clean. Scrubbed. Time and careworn, but clean.

Abner Deacons came in with a pail of warm milk. He poured it into a crock and set it on a low shelf in the refrigerator. Most of the kitchen was right out of a 1940s Norman Rockwell illustration. The refrigerator was new and huge. Mrs. Deacons saw him looking at it.

"We grow a heapa vegetables. Can't sell them all. Can't eat the rest right away. I blanche 'em and freeze or can 'em. Keep a long time. Where is that girl? I don't knock her in the head and make her eat, she'll stay out in that fancy barn of hers a week.

"Maggeee! You come on in! I got biscuits and gravy and we got company."

Abner came back from washing up.

"That was dumb."

Mrs. Deacons nodded, shook her head."

"You're right. If'n she knows she got to get gussied up for strangers she'll hide or bolt. Eat raw eggs from under the chickens, milk from a teat, apple off the tree. Mebbe she didn't hear."

At that moment loud footsteps came down the stairs. Maggie Deacons stepped into the kitchen. She had to duck her head. She was very big; not fat, not chunky, just big. She wore clean overalls and a checkered shirt opened low enough to reveal some serious cleavage. Otherwise, she was all business. She took one look at Casey and shook her head as though to clear it. But then she smiled and the warmth of it filled the room. She put out a hand.

"Dr. Darden, welcome to our little farm."

Casey stood just short of eye to eye with her. Her handshake enclosed his and her palm was a bit rough.

"My pleasure. I don't know many people around here and that pie smells delicious. Whatever else is cooking, too."

"Mama's real good in the kitchen. Some folks blame her for how big I got. Say she feeds me up like I was a pet steer. Only I ain't much good to eat."

Casey smiled. Maggie offered him the quickest wink, but her parents didn't see it.

"I'm sure statuesque women run in your family."

"Well now that's right nice. 'Statuesque', I like that. Ma, the man thinks I resemble a work of art."

"Oh, I'm sure he knows how to talk to the ladies, his line of work."

"Mebbe so, but it sounds good anyways. Hey, let's eat."

It was a fine meal; a fragrant meatloaf, flavored with fresh rosemary. Fat orange yams with their own butter. Thick spears of asparagus that Maggie swallowed in one bite. Biscuits. And the apple pie.

Casey couldn't but admire Maggie as he watched her put away her meal in a hearty, relaxed way. She was all that a man could want in a woman and then some. Her skin glowed with freshness. She had an amazing smile, thick, red-blond hair, and she was smart. This wasn't just some dummy who daydreamed and slopped pigs and fed chickens. She was up on the latest ideas in animal husbandry and seemed to know A-Z about breeding, cows, horses, pigs, sheep, chickens, and goats. Casey was beginning to think he should go back to his cabin and just let time allow some smart, hearty farmer to find Maggie.

"I don't got much use for men." Maggie wiped a slick of butter from her full bottom lip.

Mrs. Deacons put a full basket of biscuits in front of Casey.

"Oh, come on, hon. Don't outright challenge the man. He's here to eat, not sweep you off your feet. Well. I'm a poet and don't know it."

"Doubt if he could sweep me off my feet if he tried. Might work t'other way around, if I'd a mind to it."

"Stubborn, that one." Mr. Deacons grumbled and stabbed himself a slice of ham. "Gets everything in a family way 'cept herself. Never figured I'd cheer for someone to knock her up, but time's wastin' and the Deacon line could go dead. Farm go right back to woods."

"Oh, hush paw, why don't you and me go in the parlor to eat our pie. Let the young folks talk."

"I'm comfortable here and ain't finished my ham and taters."

"Lord, man, you're thicker than a oak stump. Get your big rump in that parlor."

"Woman, you know I ain't dumb. Hesh yourself. I'm comin'."

Casey and Maggie were left sitting over the feast while grumbles came from the next room. Maggie wasn't shy about eating and Casey found it a pleasure to watch those strong lips and teeth make the food disappear. They ate in silence for a while. Finally Maggie spoke up.

"Seems like you and I have sort of similar professions, only you, if I understand right, work with people while I do it with animals."

She gave him a wide grin.

"I don't mean that the way it sounds, although..."

Casey took a bite of pie.

"I thought that animals just "took care of business" when nature rang a little bell. Not a lot of psychology to it."

Maggie shook her head.

"You'd think. But breeding animals isn't just like letting them follow nature's way. You want this one to mate with that one, but they don't always ... well, hell, let me show you. Like Paw would say, "time's a wastin.'"

She grabbed his hand with some force and in a moment he found himself rushing across a big, well-kept barnyard to a large red barn with two silos. Maggie explained as she went.

"You see, Angus McCracken, over Pottersville way brought in this really fine filly he hopes will be a money makin' brood mare. And he is right, she has some fine lines and a solid pedigree. But she ain't never been with a stallion before. And I got Sergeant here, who's about as nice a piece of horse flesh as you'd want to see. He's not shy. But he's just as likely to spook Dovey there and she'll take off a runnin' if she can. So we got to practice some diplomacy here.

"Here's how you can help me out. You OK with horses? Not spooked by 'em or anything?"

Casey shook his head. It was an adventure.

"Alright then. You go over there and stand by Dovey's paddock. I got a hood on her so she won't be so skittish, but she still could rear some once she starts to hear Sergeant get worked up. So you hold her down and pat her nice on her nose. She likes that, especially from a man. Meanwhile, I'm gonna get Sergeant ready to mount this dummy here."

She indicated a large padded barrel with a hole at one end and a cutout horses head at the other.

"The idea is he gets started on this and then we switch him over just as he's ready to let go. So when I tell you, but not before, you bring Dovey over here right next to this thing. You ready? Let's do it!"

Maggie went into Sergeant's paddock and Casey could here the stallion stomping around a bit and Maggie's calming voice. A few moments later, Maggie led the magnificent beast out into the breeding area. Casey noticed that the stallion's thick, black member was hanging down almost to the ground.

Maggie tethered Sergeant to the post next to the mare's stall and positioned the dummy next to it. She began to whisper in the stallion's ear and stroke his neck, then his back, then his flank. She took a tube of lubricant and squeezed a huge dollop into her hand and began gently stroking the animals great black scrotum and then down its cock, now beginning to reach it's full size. Casey had never realized that the penis of a horse ended in a large bell shape. He felt a little shiver up his spine as he imagined that thick flange spreading the tender insides of a mare.

Sergeant began to whinny and stamp. His tail whipped the air. Maggie gentled him with her voice while maintaining her firm stroking of his yard-long rod. It began to drip.

He was ready.

Maggy let him approach the dummy. In a second he had mounted it, his huge haunches lifting the long impressive body now beginning to shine with sweat.

"Hold her tight and bring her around behind me," Maggie murmured.

The mare tossed her head as she was led. It took all of Casey's strength to lead her. Sergeant was beginning to hump with a rhythm.

"Quickly now, lead her up here beside him. Come right at me and stop. If he's got a lick of brains he'll jump her the second her rump brushes his cock. Now!"

The little mare slid up next to the stallion. Maggie tugged the stallion's halter rope and he slid sideways onto the mare. After a couple of false tries he found his mark. The flared bell slid into the mare's pursed opening. Dovey staggered under Sergeant's weight as he began pumping eagerly. His teeth gnawed at her neck. Casey was crushed hard against Maggie as they both held tight to their charges, the fierce motion of horse sex vibrating down the ropes. The night had grown warm and they had both worked up a sweat. Maggie's healthy woman smell mingled with that of hay and horse.

"He's still going. He's going to give her a good load." Maggie smiled. "Hey, I can see all this is getting to you a little bit."

Casey actually turned a little red. Indeed, his own organ, modest by horse standards, was tenting his trousers. Maggie brushed it with her free hand.

'S'OK, it's natural. Happens to the best of us. This is some pretty heady stuff. Little later maybe we can do something about that. Right now it looks like Sarge is done.

The stallion had draped himself on the mare for a bit, wrung out. Now he slipped off, the great penis now limp and dripping. Dovey nuzzled his neck with her soft muzzle.

"You take her back to her stall and give her some fresh hay from the loft above it. I'll stow Sarge and then I got to take care of Dobbin. He always gets jealous and needs a little too, but being as he isn't breeding material we don't keep his stuff.

Casey had the mare bedded down and was about to open her stall gate when he was brought up short by the sight of Maggie with a big-headed chestnut stallion with spots on his rump. Maggie had Dobbin up on the dummy mare and had his short, thick dick in both hands, stroking like crazy. Clearly she wanted to get the old horse off fast, and clearly she had done this many times before. Dobbin started pumping, as Maggie encouraged him, coaxing, "Come, come on now, come on boy."

Just as the stallion let loose Maggie tripped against the dummy, right in the line of fire. Her impressive cleavage was coated with thick ropes of white goo that dribbled down her front onto her legs. At that moment she caught Casey's eye. He was trying hard not to laugh.

He needn't have worried. She beamed her huge smile. "Hey! Grab that hose over there and wash this gunk off me. Not the first time Dobbin has done the deed on me. That's good. Turn it on and just wash me down."

Casey did as he was asked, playing the cool water over her bosom until her blouse was a second skin and her strawberry sized nipples stood up firm.

"A little harder, please. We'll never get this stuff off at this rate. Twist that nozzle. Oh yeah, that's better. Hit this one. That's right. Just play it around some right there. Now the other one. Oh, that's good. Now run it down my belly. Good, wash it all down. Keep on doing that. That's right. Clean up this old skirt."

Maggie was leaning back against the mare dummy with her eyes closed, arms stretched out to the sides. The jet of water had found the hollow just below her pubic bone firmly outlined by the wet cloth.

"Please, please keep that right there until I tell you to stop."

Casey did as he was told and Maggie tilted her hips up and rocked them against the water. Her bud had swollen and Casey could see it was as big as his thumb.

Maggie was smiling a heavenly smile now, peering at him with wet eyes from beneath half closed lids. Something seismic seemed to rock her for a moment. The dummy rattled as her hips jerked against it.

"Come here," she commanded in a low growl. "Turn that thing off and grab that crate over there. Put it right here in front of me."

Casey did it.

"Now please help me. Sit right there. Take your strongest hand and bring your fingers together in a point like the head of a goose. That's good. Let me suck on 'em a little bit.

Casey felt her strong lips surround his fingers and apply real suction. His cock was jealous of his fingers.

"Fine. Now I want you to run that goose up the inside of my leg. That's a good boy. Oh, keep goin'. Now, please, work those fingertips into that soft place."

Casey's fingertips reached the plump nether lips covered with thick curls. They were already soaked with water and Maggie's own slippery juice. The goose's beak pushed them apart and found the more tender lips between. Liquid ran down into his palm. He twisted a little and Maggie spread her knees, lowering herself, pushing down as his knuckles met a bit of resistance. With a 'pop' his whole hand was inside.

"Ahhhhh!"

Maggie's eyes turned up in her head.

"Now make a fist," Maggie urged.

"Are you sure? I don't have small hands"

"Let's give it a try. Oh lord, that's just fine. Now..."

"I know what to do."

Casey let his arm find a natural rhythm as her strong legs did much of the work. He closed his eyes and imagined himself the great black horse plunging into the strong little filly. Maggie began to make a fierce sound, half moan, half growl.

"Yes, oh, yes, oh please. Now, now, pull this off ..."

She was tearing at the wet fabric covering her breast.

"Take it off. Please, now, take it off!"

Casey exposed the puckered purple circle with the thick pink marshmallow in its center. Maggie grabbed her tit almost rudely, squeezing it hard, forcing it against Casey's mouth. He sucked it in hard, pinched it with his lips, bit it some.

Maggie rode his arm, jerking, out of control. Suddenly, her bodly convulsed and he could feel the strong muscles of her vagina contracting and rippling against his hand. She froze, eyes turned up so the pupils were invisible. A great gush pour around his arm and onto the loose hay of the barn adding a rich musk to the other natural odors. In his stall, Sergeant whinnied loudly and beat his hooves against the gate.

Maggie's orgasmic moan went on and on as the aftershocks shook her whole body. She cried out as he slipped his hand from inside her; holding her tight as she shuddered against him. Finally, she nuzzled her face into his neck.

"Whoa! That was seriously fine. I don't think I ever. You got me spoiled now. And I owe you. I got an idea. You set yourself down on that bale of hay there. Here, let me get those trousers down. Oh, you are so pretty. I don't think I've seen me a cock on any critter as pretty as this one here."

She was stroking his cock and balls with all the expertise she had applied to Old Dobbin, but with more gentleness. Casey had never felt himself so hard, the skin was so tight it stung. His nuts were snug up against his body. He needed to blast her with everything in them and yet he never wanted her to stop. For a girl with no experience she was a pro.