Hayin' Time

Euphoric and tired, I fell back, but gently pulled her toward me. She moved back up and leaned against my chest. I tipped her chin up and started to kiss her, but she turned away.

"You don't have to kiss me now," she said, but I gently turned her face back toward me.

"If you can do that for me, yes, I can do this for you," I replied and kissed her long and hard. She smiled and hugged me as we lay there on the bed together, together at last.

***

It was a tough school year after I switched my major that fall. My academic advisor strongly advised against it, saying it would probably take an extra semester, but I didn't care, finally knowing what I wanted to do with my life and with whom I wanted to do it.

"I love you, Rebecca."

She kissed me. "I love you, too, Eric."

Rebecca went home with me at Christmas to meet my mom, and then we made the long trip to visit her parents. It was a great visit, with Mr. and Mrs. Johnson seeming to be very happy about Rebecca and me being together. I spent a lot of time talking with Mr. Johnson, about the farm and about my future. He offered some very good but rather unexpected advice that, after a lot of consideration, would help direct my course for the next few years. He also offered me a summer job, but promised to tailor it a bit to better meet my needs. Rebecca and Mrs. Johnson spent a lot of time together, too, even spending a whole day on a shopping excursion to the city.

The spring semester passed quickly. I took an overload, the first of several in trying to graduate on time with my agri-business degree without the need for that extra semester. Rebecca and I spent as much time together as we could; she frequently helped me by reviewing my work and typing my reports. We played frequently, too, and became quite good at pleasuring each other, but we were always careful to avoid crossing her forbidden line of anything penetrative.

On the last night before the spring semester ended and we had to move out of the dorms, I took Rebecca on a real date. We went to dinner at a nice restaurant since it would be several months before we'd see its like without driving for well over an hour to the city. I was deliberately running a bit early so I stopped by a prof's office to check my posted grade; with the ones I'd already received, I would end the semester with a 3.5. I was so excited I was still grinning when I got out of Ron's car (that I'd borrowed for the evening) and walked toward Rebecca's dorm.

She opened the door to reveal her suitcase and boxes scattered all over her bed; it appeared that she was almost packed for our trip to the farm, but I wasn't wasting time looking at that. She wore a black sundress and heels so she was almost my height, and I could only stare, stammering how beautiful she was while thinking how lucky I was.

She stepped forward and kissed me on the lips, causing my blood to surge. I drew back, not wanting to get too excited in that way, but she pressed forward, sliding her cheek against mine until her lips reached my ear, where she whispered, "I've got a secret." Her tongue flicked my earlobe and I could only take a deep breath and try to relax.

After exhaling, I looked into her eyes and asked, "What's your secret?"

Some would call her look coy, or perhaps flirtatious, but I found it rather irritating when she said, "You'll find out when the time is right." With a wink, she kissed the tip of my nose, stepped back into her room to grab her little purse, and we were off.

After an excellent dinner, we made our way back to my room. The door was barely closed before she was on me, kissing me and pushing me back toward my bed. When I fell back on it, she kicked off her heels, flipped on my little stereo for some music, and climbed atop, straddling me. Grinning, I put my hands at her sides and slid them up to cup and massage her breasts, but she took my wrists and pushed them away as she said, "Uh, uh. Hands over your head, mister. It's my turn to play."

I did as she said, but she surprised me when she didn't let go. Instead, she leaned forward so her boobs hung, straining against the little black dress, just in front of my face. She swayed gently, ever so lightly touching them against my cheek and nose, first on one side, and then on the other, time and again.

"No hands," she warned as I started to try to take control, so I relaxed them and she gave me another soft caress. "But I guess you can use your mouth and tongue, if you'd like."

I liked very much, kissing the side of one breast and then the side of the other in turn, and my goals became to free her nipples from their covering. She giggled when she realized it, and changed up her pace to try to see how long she could keep me from succeeding. As I neared success, she smiled at me and then drew back, kissing me again but giving a little growl when I made the mistake of assuming that her little game was over.

"I'm going to let your hands go for a moment, but only if you promise to do what I tell you. Promise?"

"I promise."

"Good," she said. "Now, reach around behind me and unzip my dress, but don't touch me. That's good. Okay, far enough. Now, put your hands back over your head."

I liked where this seemed to be heading, so I did exactly as she said, receiving my reward a moment later when she pushed the spaghetti straps down with the top of the dress following right behind. Her breasts were free and she used them like before, brushing them against one side and then the other, only now she paused for a few seconds when I captured a nipple in my mouth and sucked lightly on it before she gently popped it free and repeated the cycle.

Needless to say, my penis was as hard as the proverbial rock so I wasn't all that disappointed when she finally drew back and moved down to my waist, unfastening my belt, the button, and my zipper. My breath was shallow in anticipation as I wondered what she was going to do next, whether a hand job or a blow job, a dry rub, or if she'd let us sixty-nine again. She hadn't given me the reminder lecture about the ground rules for that last one, so I assumed it wouldn't be that, but I was still hoping as she threw off my shoes and pulled my pants down and then took my underwear off, too.

That eliminated the chance of us humping, but I didn't have time to be disappointed. She seated herself on the side of the bed and pulled her legs up to her left side so she was practically sitting on her feet before she tucked the dress in, keeping me from getting any errant peeks. I frowned at her but she grinned before taking my cock in both hands and giving me a couple of good pumps. She leaned forward and gave a kiss to the head, before following with an ice cream-like swirl with her tongue. Then, to my great disappointment, she let me go as she dropped her feet off the side of the bed.

"Eric, take off your shirt," she instructed, "but put your hands back up when it's off."

She was grinning when she swung her leg over me and settled her hot crotch against my throbbing penis.

Her panties were soaked and velvety; I could feel her pussy sliding against the length of my dick. Three times she made the moves, before she started rubbing right at my tip. My eyes opened wide as I realized what her secret was.

"Rebecca! You're not wearing panties!" I exclaimed, only then hoping no one had heard that out in the hall. "You're not—"

Shushing me, she captured me then, sliding me just into her entrance, holding still for a second before pushing back against me, a bit at a time.

Her velvety softness captured me against my better judgment, and I started to object but she put a finger to my lips as she stopped moving. "Don't talk, my love. Mom took me to the doctor and put me on birth control pills back at Christmas. I want this."

I couldn't help myself. "Are you sure?"

"Pills since Christmas, Eric? Shaved smooth?" She shook her head in mock frustration at me, before grinning. "More than anything. Oh, your hands are free now, so hush and make love to me."

***

Many years later, we were heading back home to the farm, our farm, following a visit to my mother. Hayin' time was about to start and we'd be busy for the next four months.

After several years working for a national agri-business firm to gain more experience, Rebecca and I moved back to the farm and built our own home. Ralph and I had expanded the operation over the years, switching to larger bales that made the operation more efficient. He'd been cutting back a little in recent years, giving me more responsibility each year. This year, he'd given me complete control; he and Ellie planned to do a summer trip through the Rockies and up into Canada, something they'd wanted to do for many years but had never had the opportunity to do because of haying season.

Rebecca and I had been married for nearly 25 years. She explained to me sometime later that our first tryst was timed as it was because she didn't want to be in a scratchy, itchy hay loft when she'd had too much and decided to that final step in making love to me.

Our eldest daughter was in grad school, our twin boys were college sophomores, and our youngest, Jennie, was 14 and was sitting in the back seat when a new song came on. I was driving and wasn't paying attention until Rebecca and Jennie started giggling.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Is this song about you, Daddy?" asked Jennie, who'd heard it before.

I listened to the words as the country star sang about his experience on a farm, the frustrations he'd felt, how close he'd come to quitting, and how he'd ultimately turned the situation around. I was smiling, too, when it ended, but then I shook my head.

"No, sweetheart, this one isn't about me, but that doesn't matter. I got the farmer's beautiful daughter, too.

The End

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Author's note:

Thanks to everyone for reading and for your votes. They give me some idea of how I'm doing with my writing and may help me improve future works.

Knowing that the summer theme was coming, I came up with the general idea for this story back in the spring but with the pandemic and related family and work issues, I'd just about given up on finishing it when I drove a few miles through the countryside last month. Passing by a number of hayfields, I saw some of the old-style rectangular bales used in this story, the round haybales that became increasingly popular in the late 80s and 90s, and the newer, larger square or rectangular bales (that solve some of the problems inherent with round bales). It reminded me of this work and gave me some time to work out some of the details to be able to finish the last half of it.

Finally, Rodney Atkin's song, The Farmer's Daughter, was released in 2010. It didn't inspire this work, but remembering those long-ago days, I can't keep from smiling every time I hear it.