Fields of Pleasure

"Kick back for a bit, John," Rhonda told me after I hoisted the last crate of cukes from my pickup to the table where she and I set up our stall that Saturday morning.

I grabbed two plastic chairs from the truck as well and snapped them into place under the shade of the tent above us.

The farmer's market had yet to open, so I took Rhonda at her heed and sat down.

She turned back to the table, sorting our harvest for early summer. I scanned the park first to see what crowds might be building, but when I looked back at the table, Rhonda had leaned far enough forward to give me a lovely view of her pert, sturdy thigh. She stretched again just enough flash the plain pair of white panties she wore under her light brown shorts.

Smiling lightly, I let her ease back and then looked around again to see if anyone had spotted me.

"Maybe you should just double-check to see that everything looks good," Rhonda said as the turned back to me with a cuke in her hand.

"I trust you. Just don't put anyone's eye out with that thing," I said.

"Same to you," she grinned as I realize I had tented a bit.

Rhonda, who stood about 5 feet 6 inches tall, had strawberry blonde hair that frizzed a bit, and she typically wore it in a ponytail under a blue and green bandana. She started at the farm in late May, after her semester ended. The farm is on a tax-exempt piece of land in our New England town. All 45 acres are owned by a land trust and its supporters also fund two or three jobs a summer. People can live on the land as they work the hell out of it.

Make no mistake, a lot of times it seems like our cash crop is rocks, so many I've come to believe they multiply. So all summer we worked the land, and Rhonda was already proving her ability and endurance as we began working sunup to sundown.

The farmers markets really only took two people to work, so I rotated it through the weeks to give two people the weekend off. This time, Bryce and Darlene had split for an AirBnb on the Cape while we minded the store, or tended the land, that is. Even then, once we were done unloading whatever didn't sell at the market, Rhonda's time would be her own, too.

I stepped close to her and caught that patchouli smell at the nape of her neck. Her blue tank top hung a little loose, showing me glimpses of the red and blue sports bra under it, maybe holding c-cups. I made sure to step around her space at the stand, though, and sure enough, my trust was rewarded by her set-up work.

We worked the day in small shifts, mostly, the three hours was profitable but not overwhelming, and really, I was ready to call it a week well before we packed it up for the day.

"I know it's not the Cape, but there's plenty to wander if you haven't had a chance to get out yet," I said to Rhonda as we drove the 15 miles back to the farm. She had shed the apron and I could enjoy her athletic legs with just a sideward glance.

"I heard the trust has some running trails, I want to see more of the river, too," she answered, gazing out the window at a patch of piney woods.

"Well, it was no easy week, but everyone did great," I said. "That was a terrific set up for the cukes and corn today and we're almost out of garlic for now."

Actually, I felt goofy talking farm (or shop) was the truck jounced its way back to the farm, but something about Rhonda stirred a giddy eagerness that seemed to choke all reasoned and intelligent thoughts from my head as I tried to talk to her.

When we backed up next to the barn, Rhonda bounded out as my chocolate Lab, Buster, trotted over to the truck. She was still scritching his back and neck when I told her I'd take care of the rest and the day was hers.

"Cool, thanks, John," she said, never straightening out from petting Buster. At length she let him go and ambled off to the cabin they shared. I went on to tend to the end of the week business, including settling up bills with some of the sales from the market and updating our website and blog. Run a business long enough and you learn you have to do a lot of stuff that isn't why you wanted to go into business.

About 90 minutes later I looked up from my laptop and saw Rhonda emerge from the cabin in blazing orange yoga shorts that dropped midway to her knees. Her gray tank top dropped to just below the hem of the shorts, giving me an exquisite view of her tight and taut frame. Her hair, which actually turned a bit gold in the sunshine, was still pulled back in a frizzy ponytail.

She stretched into a warmup, pulling up on her left leg, the right. I was mesmerized and then entranced as trotted in place with just enough jiggle to make me wonder what she was like when she really got worked up. Without a gaze toward my house, Rhonda broke into a small trot and veered right for a wooded trail just beyond the cornfield. I watched her stride lengthen and went back to my work.

I had come out for a break about 30 minutes later and was looking over the tomato plants when I hear the gravel scrape a bit and knew she was coming back from her run. I turned to watch her, and almost looked away when she lifted her tank top in a deft motion to show off her sports bra I'd snuck a glimpse of earlier.

"Shit, it gets hot out here in the country," she said. "What, you don't take weekends off? You tell me about this great spot on the river and you don't want to be my tour guide? I know Buster could show me, but you need a break, too."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course. We're adults here. I think," Rhonda answered with a smile that spread her lips warmly and flashed her upper teeth. "I think you need to unwind a bit. I have something I can change into, so grab your suit or just leave those shorts on."

I felt the soft but insistent tug on my left hand and my knees got a bit wobbly. It was just a quick brush as Rhonda made for the cabin, making sure I saw all of her as she walked away.

I pretty much always jumped in the river nude but knew the cut offs and boxers I was wearing would be fine given how much I was already seeing of Rhonda. I was almost disappointed when she came out in a white sundress dappled with daisies, but it flowed over her so well I found myself quickly staring at her again and I knew I'd walk over broken glass barefoot all the way to the river to see what she had on under it.

"Are you just going to stare or do you have some direction in mind for us?" Rhonda asked with a grin.

This was not going to be a long hike, but part of me wanted to sprint to the river with her. I headed for a slight gap in the oak trees as we stayed in stride, arms brushing, her skin feeling electric with her light hairs tingly to my touch.

As we neared the end of the field, the gurgling of the river filled out ears. The path through the woods was worn smooth even to the exposed tree roots. The river appeared as it rounded a gentle bend, a sandy shore with scattered pebbles and water coursing around a long oak tree that dropped into the current and stayed put years ago.

"Here we are, the legendary swimming hole," I said, nearly adding to ask if I could help Rhonda with her dress. There was no need, for as deftly as she could rearrange the veggie displays, she tugged it over her head. I wasn't expecting she'd stay in her shorts and sports bra, but the emergence of her tie-dyed hipster bottoms made my jaw drop. I stared so hard she stopped a second, then slowly pulled the dress up to reveal her tie-dyed bandeau top. She was a splash in circles and blots of yellow, light red, green and sky blue.

"I like your suit, granola girl," I laughed as she pulled the dress over her head, dropped it on the beach and looked at me.

"Are you going to show me why it's so legendary?" Rhonda asked, extending her hand.

"Well, now it seems like it can't live up to your expectations," I said, taking her palm and walking us out ankle deep into a burbling warm current. She clasped my hand as we waded through the river.

I angled us toward a limb that had dropped in a storm so hard it got stuck in the sand like it was glued there. About waist-high depth, the water had worn the timber to a softness and shape that was easy to lean back into, and I took Rhonda by her hips and eased her into place against the log. In doing so, my hips came above water and my hard cock was impossible to hide.

"Oh my God, a sea monster," Rhonda giggled. "An untamed beast here in the wild."

"It's been raging for you since you got here," I said. "You're lucky, I usually swim nude in this spot."

"What's to stop you now," she asked, reaching out and stroking my cock through my shorts. "You afraid this will drag you under? Why don't we switch spots, I can help you out."

She moved from the log into my arms first and we kissed. Our tongues met almost immediately, and Rhonda eased me back to a sitting position and unzipped my shorts. With a determined tug, they came off and out came my cock like it was loaded on a spring.

She caressed it with her fingers, adding slow turns and twists, leaning up to kiss me again. Then her mouth went south, ever so slowly as she kissed my hairy chest, my nipples and flicked her tongue lower and lower. As she licked, tickled and kiss her way down, Rhonda took my cock in her right hand with a touch that made my knees wobble.

She guided it over her breasts embraced by her bandeau top.

"Do you always get this hard when you swim naked?" She looked up at me and tugged lightly, then kissed the crown. Leaning her mouth completely over it, she followed with a quick suck and then she was off to the races.

Never taking her eyes off mine, Rhonda swirled her tongue over the head, then dabbed the tip of it just below on my frenulum. I nearly melted then and there, we both knew the first time would not take long. What she didn't know is that's barely a warmup for me.

I heard a slurp even over the current as she took me deep between her lips, and. When she put her hands on my thighs and kept sucking, I began to thrust into her mouth.

"Now you're getting the idea," Rhonda said between kisses and licks. "You've been wanting this since you saw me that first day, haven't you?"

Before I could answer she glued her lips to my shaft again, and down, down, down she went as she reached under my sac and ran her fingertips on my balls. Moving back up, she let the tip out with a plop and licked more. She looked up after the second lick with a mischievous grin.

"Do it, you know you want to," she said ever so softly. "And I want it, too."

And she got it right then, a thunderous first blast splattered from her lips well over her eyebrows to her forehead. The second shot filled her mouth, then with a deft move Rhonda stroked the remaining shots splattered over her tie-dyed top and swelling tits. She finished with a final tongue bath to clean me off.

"Holy shit," was all I could muster as my quaking stopped. I held the log tight for a moment as I caught my breath. "You made me see stars."

"How long had you been storing that up?" Rhonda asked. She grasped the middle and index fingers on my left hand and ran them through the cum on her forehead before slipping them into her mouth.

"You haven't gotten the last of it yet, but that can wait," I said. Rhonda was not exactly kneeling when she delivered the best blowjob of my life, but I pulled her up from her crouch and shifted her back to the log.

She began dabbing at the cum on her tits and bikini top as I kissed my way to her bottoms, thinking I'd like to see her cum on one of the splashes of color on them, too. Her water droplets inside her thighs were delicious, and as I closed in on her pussy, I could smell her desire.

"Did you get all wet thinking of where my cock is going to end up?" I asked, then kissed her pussy through her bikini. Hooking my fingers in her waist band, I slowly lowered her bottoms, first exposing a finely damped patch of curling red hairs. I kissed them, then blew on them for good measure as I kept peeling her bottoms away.

"Sorry, life on the farm makes it kinda hard to stay trimmed," she said.

"I love it," I answered, nuzzling in for a whiff.

Her pussy was a bit puffy, her labia parted and her musk was a scent of desire that could not be washed away by the current. With a flick of my tongue, I inserted the tip into her pussy, causing her to rock up against me while she gripped the back of my head.

"Oh yes eat my pussy," she cooed. "Lick it right there, don't stop."

Her voice began rising as she mashed my mouth between her legs. I tickled her inside with the tip of my tongue, then lapped up and down over her pussy and clit. I could feel it budding under my tongue, and I nibbled at it as Rhonda settled back into the log and lifted her legs over my shoulders.

As her juices smeared my beard and mustache, she trembled, quaked, shook and spasmed her way to an ear-splitting orgasm, lifting up in her space on the log and clenching my head like she never wanted to give it back.

Nose, lips and tongue pushed against her as she heaved and I slurped on her clit to take her over the edge. I was practically inhaling her wet muff.

"Oh my God, stop," Rhonda said as her orgasm ebbed. "Oh shit, that was so amazing."

"I kinda owed you an amazing," I said and kissed her pussy one last time before straightening back up.

She grabbed the back of my head and pulled me to her for a voracious kiss, still panting.

"Feels like the sea monster's rampage isn't over yet," Rhonda said, giving me a slow, knowing stroke.

"It's on a mission, seeking the passion of a fair maiden," I intoned, stiffening quickly in her grip. "And it shall not be slaked or sated in this mission."

My fingers parted her bottoms as Rhonda tugged me, rubbing over her pussy, then letting go as I penetrated. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she hoisted her legs over mine. In I went, into a velvet canyon, plunging even as I pushed upwards inside her.

"Hold me, fuck me, fuck me deep," Rhonda moaned, legs spread wide and pulling me in at each thrust.

I reached out for handholds on the timber and basically pinned her in place, grinding over her clit.

I won't lie and say Rhonda was the first summer fuck I enjoyed at the farm, but she was quickly becoming one of the most animated. Even as she spread wide, her kegel muscles gripped my shaft. She pulled her left hand off my shoulder and placed it over my right one. Then her right hand covered my left and her hips flared up at me.

"You're a pretty good fuck for an old guy," she breathed. "How long can you last?"

"A young guy could never make you cum like I will," I said with an emphatic thrust pushing my cock head all the way through her. "You pussy is amazing, though."

"Oh God yes, fuck me," moaned Rhonda, her eyes wide, her mouth remaining open, uttering little gasps. I pulled my right hand from under her left, then helped her grip the timber. Once she was holding tight, I rubbed her clit as it began swelling into her bottoms.

I pressed over the fabric with the pad of my thumb, clockwise, then counterclockwise, look straight into her lusty eyes.

"Ohhhhhshhhiiitttttyessss," she cried with a little bounce in her voice getting more urgent with each brush on her bottoms. Reaching under them, I smeared my fingers with her juices, then reached for her mouth. As my two fingers got closer to her thin lips, Rhonda snaked her tongue out, licked them, then sucked them into her mouth.

"Cum for me," I grunted, pinning her hands back again. I pulled back and fucked her quickly with just the head and about half my cock.

"Give it all to me, I'm so close," she pleaded before a wail pushed out. Her legs flared off my hips and she grabbed my ass and pulled us together. It seemed we were glued for hours, her kegels holding me fast.

There was no more holding back for me and Rhonda read it in my face.

"Fill me with your cum. It's safe, do it," she said in a low voice. "Fill me now."

It felt like a torrent of cum, not spurts as I let go full up against her hips, blasting her pussy. Rhonda wrapped her arms around me as I came, draining every drop before one last wobble nearly felled me. I braced myself on the timber and pulled my cock out. With what strength I had left, I turned and leaned back on the wood, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

"Holy shit," was the best I could muster. "I may have to send Bryce and Darlene away every weekend."

"Or invite them for a swim," she answered, her palm flat on my abs.