Love on the Farm

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Sue was carrying a dozen eggs that she insisted Diana take, and Di pestered them to come in for coffee. This was yet another side of her Jeanne hadn't seen before, and she thought it was really cute. It suited her.

They sat at the kitchen table and talked about things that Jeanne wouldn't have thought Diana could pronounce, much less care about. The level of the well. Some health problem with a cow. As Diana made coffee and chatted, she would sometimes touch Jeanne's shoulder as she walked by, or make some other gesture to let her know she hadn't forgotten about her.

After one of these little touches, Jeanne noticed that Sue was looking at her differently. It was subtle, but Sue was studying her. And suddenly she understood: Sue was wondering if she and Diana were lovers! She told herself that that was understandable; they were awfully close. But there was more to what she felt, and she realized that down deep she kind of enjoyed that speculation. Wow, she thought, where did that come from?

Jeanne noticed that Dale's gaze lingered just too long on her breasts when he addressed her. She began to think nasty thoughts about men being pigs right in front of their wives, when she remembered belatedly that she wasn't wearing a bra. He was looking at her nipples, which were doing their best to poke a pair of holes in her top. She blushed, but she had the second strange feeling in as many minutes as she remembered Diana telling her that she liked her like this. And strangely, that outweighed the embarrassment she felt at Dale's looks.

* * * * *

By the time Sue and Dale left, dusk was falling, and the girls decided that they were ready to put some dinner together. As she chopped vegetables for a stir-fry, Jeanne said, "You enjoyed that visit, didn't you?"

Diana lowered the spoon she had been tasting with, and said "Well, sure. They're nice people, don't you think?"

"They do seem nice. But I'll bet you didn't know your neighbor's name in the city."

Diana thought about that for a second, and said, "You're right, I didn't. But here...it just seems right, you know?"

Jeanne smiled and said softly, "You've changed, Di."

Diana was a little defensive when she replied, "I suppose I have, a little. But that's kind of what I came up here for. You too, I thought."

"Oh, no, Di! I didn't mean it was a bad thing. I like seeing you like this, in fact. You're...at home here, aren't you?"

Another few seconds of thought, and then, "I guess I am, now." Hadn't she been thinking that very thing earlier this afternoon? "I wasn't always."

"Yeah, I'm sure it was a bit of an adjustment."

"That's not exactly what I meant." Diana hadn't intended to talk about any of this, but Jeanne gave her the "go on" look, and, again, Di reminded herself not to run from her feelings. "It wasn't the same when I was alone here. The last few days..." and her voice trailed off.

"Aww, that's sweet, Di. They have been nice, haven't they?"

They moved on to dinner, but that conversation hung in the air around them.

* * * * *

The following morning, when Jeanne came back to her room to dress, she found a light, summery dress and a pair of sandals. The dress was white, with a camisole sort of top, spaghetti straps, and a "V" of lace between her breasts. Those breasts might not have been much, but this thing sure drew attention to them. She would never wear something like this to hang around a farm. It had been fun, in a way, letting Diana pick out her clothes, but she decided that she was just going to have to say something.

Of course, she didn't realize that Diana had stared into her closet for almost half an hour this morning, thinking about what to give Jeanne to wear. Well, thinking about more than what to give Jeanne to wear. Thinking, too, about how they might spend their day, and how she would like to see Jeanne dressed for that. And tied up in all of this was a complicated bunch of feelings that she didn't entirely understand, but she knew that the fact that it mattered to her so much what she gave Jeanne to wear was important.

As usual, Diana was waiting for Jeanne when she got downstairs.

When she was installed at the table with her coffee, Jeanne worked up her nerve and said, "Di, this has been fun, letting you surprise me with the clothes you lay out for me, but I can't go around like this."

Diana slid into the chair across from her, and said, "I thing you should. You look terrific in it."

Why was this even a conflict, Jeanne wondered? It was silly to dress like this. Why did it matter that Diana thought she should? But it did.

"You look really sexy like that," Diana said.

"I'm not shooting for sexy, Di. Nobody is going to see me but you."

"And I'm chopped liver?" Diana grinned. "Actually, I thought I would take you into town today."

"Into town?"

"Yep. You've been raving about how much you like my hair. I thought you should see the girl who cut it."

"See, as in let her cut my hair?"

"You told me you needed to get it cut. She's really good."

"I do need it cut. But just like that? And Di, I can't go there like this."

Diana was looking into Jeanne's eyes as she said quietly but steadily, "Of course you can. You should. I want you to."

Jeanne said nothing for a moment. She wanted to say no. And she wanted not to.

"But I won't push you," Diana said.

Silence hung in the air like a curtain between them for a full ten seconds. Jeanne had no idea why this was important to Diana, but she slowly realized that it was. But it also became clear that Diana had given her all the help she was going to.

Without consciously realizing that she had made a decision, she heard herself say quietly, "Okay, I'll wear it."

Diana beamed at her, and said, "I'm glad. Thank you, Jeanne." Then, as if they had been discussing the weather, "Let's have some breakfast."

That sudden jolt of normalcy jarred Jeanne as much as the conflict had. But Diana was happy, and although that didn't relieve Jeanne's embarrassment one bit, it somehow justified it.

* * * * *

Jeanne had assumed that they would go to town immediately after breakfast, but Diana had other plans. She told Jeanne that she had a few things to do in the garden, and that Jeanne should just relax for a bit.

As if Jeanne could relax. She couldn't believe that Diana was behaving as if nothing had happened, as if this was all normal. And then she realized that it wasn't "as if." Diana wanted this tobe normal. Jeanne's head was swimming and she had no idea if she could do this, or even if she wanted to. Or for that matter, even what "this" meant.

As she dug in the garden, Diana thought about what was happening between them. Somehow, getting Jeanne to wear that dress had been a turn of a corner for them. Even though she didn't really understand why, that relieved her incredibly. She had feared that at any moment, Jeanne was going to shy away from letting their relationship grow any more intimate. For some reason that incident made her think that was less likely now.

Diana came into the house after a few hours, dirty and sweaty from gardening. And suddenly Jeanne was much calmer. Being in Di's presence made all the difference. Alone, she would drive herself crazy with questions. But when Diana was with her, things were different.

"I'm going to shower before we go anywhere," Diana said. "Would you be a sweetheart and bring me something cold to drink?"

As Diana headed up the stairs, Jeanne went to the fridge and stared into it for a while, trying to think of the perfect thing. Beer? Too early. Soda? Iced tea? No, she wanted to take Diana something more...what? More special, she realized. Finally she remembered the lemons in the produce tray, and she got out lemon, sugar, ice, and one of Diana's best glasses, and made what she hoped was the perfect glass of lemonade. She found a tray and a cloth napkin, put everything together, and paused to make sure she liked the way it looked. She knew she was being silly, but she wanted to do something special for Diana. Jeanne wondered if she should go out to the garden and cut a flower to put on the tray, but even as she thought it she laughed at herself, and she headed for the stairs. Then she stopped, and stood there for a few seconds. She went back to the kitchen, found a bud vase, and went out into the garden, to cut a flower.

She took the tray up to Diana's room. She could hear the shower running, so she put the tray on the bed and said loudly, "There's a drink for you when you get out."

The sound of the shower stopped, and Diana said, "Hang on a second, I'll be right out." And she came into the bedroom wrapping herself in a towel.

When she saw the tray, with the lemonade and napkin and flower arranged just so, she gave Jeanne a broad smile and said, "Jeanne. That is just perfect. Thank you. I'll be down in a few minutes."

As she descended the stairs, Jeanne had a grin on her face. She was pleased beyond reason that Diana had liked the lemonade.

* * * * *

Jeanne made them some more lemonade and got out some fruit and things for lunch. When she heard Diana's tread on the stairs, she realized that she had been staring off into space, and wondered how much time had passed.

They had a very pleasant lunch, just as if this was just how everybody spent their days, and then Diana was ready to head into town.

It was a quiet ride. Jeanne felt as if every nerve in her body was on its tenth cup of coffee, and most of them had migrated to her nipples. Every time she moved she felt like the light dress was caressing her nipples, keeping them erect, and keeping Jeanne from anything remotely like relaxing.

It dawned on her, though, as they rode along the quiet country roads, that she was over-reacting terribly. Yes, this dress was a little more revealing than she would normally wear, but she had certainly gone without a bra plenty of times before this. She should have been mildly self-conscious, at worst.

Now that she thought about it, that was really only part of what had her so ridiculously keyed up, and a fairly small part at that. What really made this such a charged trip was the fact that she was dressed like this because Diana had asked her to. Obviously, Diana had had this trip in mind when she laid out Jeanne's clothes this morning.

* * * * *

Improbably, there was a girl named Marsha in the little burg closest to the farm who was a real artist with hair. But because she was so good, she was also busy.

"Diana!" Marsha said. "I wasn't expecting to see you."

"I know," Diana replied. "But I brought my friend Jeanne in for a cut. She liked mine so much she wanted you to cut hers."

Jeanne thought that that was stretching it a bit, but bit her tongue.

"Gosh, Diana," Marsha said. "She has great hair, I'd love to cut it, but I wish you'd made an appointment. I'm booked for another hour or so."

"That's okay, Marsha. We can wait."

Jeanne found a magazine and a seat, hoping people would ignore her, but that hope was dashed pretty quickly. Marsha kept up a running conversation with her customers and with Diana, but it seemed like every time there was a lull she would try to draw Jeanne into the conversation. Where was she from? How did she know Diana? How long was she staying? It was nice of her to try, Jeanne thought, but it also had the effect of drawing the attention of every single customer to her.

Eventually, Jeanne softened a little, and joined in a bit. But in a way the dichotomy between the attempt at normalcy and the feeling that every customer who came or went was staring at the way she was dressed kept her more on edge than swinging to one extreme or the other would have. Certainly her nipples were no less sensitive, and no less prominent.

An hour and a little more passed like this, before Marsha interrupted her thoughts with, "Okay Jeanne. I'm ready for you."

Jeanne was a little nervous as she settled into Marsha's chair. After all, she didn't know this woman, and she had no inkling when she woke up this morning that she would be getting her hair cut before the day was over.

"What are we doing today?" Marsha asked.

Jeanne hadn't really thought about that. But as she searched for the answer, it was quickly obvious that Diana had. She jumped right up and went over to the chair, and started lifting sections of Jeanne's hair, pointing to this and that, and saying things like, "Well, what would you think about..."

And Marsha would counter with things like, "No, I don't think that would work with her hair. What if..."

Jeanne finally had to say, "Hello! Do I get a vote on this?"

They all laughed, and Diana and Marsha assured her that she could call the shots. But the fact was that Jeanne did do pretty much whatever Diana thought she should.

Jeanne wasn't a vain person, but she did allow herself a little pride in her hair. She thought that she had really nice hair, and she hadn't changed how she wore it for ages. But she sat there and let Diana direct things, terrified when occasionally the scissors would snip and a big hunk if it would fall into her lap.

When Marsha finally finished and turned the chair back to the mirror, Jeanne hardly recognized what she saw there. It was much shorter than she would have cut it on her own, and it fell entirely differently. But Diana and Marsha fussed over it and said how good it looked, and as a minute or so passed and the shock started to wear off, Jeanne had to admit that it was more flattering than the way she had been wearing it. It would take some getting used to; a lot of getting used to, in fact, but she could start to imagine liking it. But Dianareally liked it, and against all reason, that meant as much to Jeanne as what she thought herself.

When they were back in the car, Diana took Jeanne's hand and said, "You look incredible. I'm so proud of you!"

It had to mean something good, she thought, that Jeanne beamed at hearing those words.

* * * * *

Diana wanted to run some errands as long as they were in town; the bank, the dry cleaners, and a few stores, and before they knew it, everything was closing.

"It's getting late. How about if we eat out tonight? I can show you off." Diana laughed as though she was kidding, but Jeanne thought that she wasn't, entirely.

Diana took them to the nicest restaurant in town. That wasn't saying a lot - it wouldn't have impressed anybody in the city. They did have wine, and candles, but not terribly good wine, or particularly pretty candles. But it was the best she could do and Jeanne appreciated the thought.

As they ate, Diana wondered if she was pushing Jeanne further than she wanted to go. She had promised herself she wouldn't. "How has your day been, Jeanne?"

"It was..." Jeanne thought for a second, and said with a soft smile, "different. For one thing, this morning seems like a week ago."

"Mmm. Or a lifetime, maybe. Good different?"

"Different different. I'm exhausted. But yes."

"People are looking at you."

Jeanne glanced down quickly to indicate her dress, and said sardonically, "No kidding."

Diana paused, and then said, "It's not the dress, Jeanne. Do you honestly not realize that you're gorgeous?"

Jeanne blushed and said, "It's just a haircut, Di."

"It's not the haircut. You were gorgeous before the haircut. You're even more gorgeous now. You're radiant. You're lighting up the room."

Jeanne was blushing furiously. "Stop it. I'm having a great time; I'm glad you think it shows."

Diana smiled softly and shook her head the slightest bit. "You are such a nut. Ready to go?"

The car cut through the darkness along the country roads, with the windows opened a crack, filling the car with a rich, night time earth and hay smell. That wasn't really registering with either of them, though. They were both thinking about that conversation in the restaurant, although their thoughts about it were very different. The subject of Jeanne's leaving hadn't come up once. And Jeanne's bags were still in her car. How they had taken on such significance, she had no idea, but they represented something now, and unpacking would have been turning her back on...whatever was going on here. She thought Diana had really enjoyed taking her to town, and fussing over her, and she had to admit she found it awfully nice herself. And the next thing she knew, she woke up in the driveway.

* * * * *

Sometime in the middle of the night Jeanne woke with a start. She couldn't remember exactly what she had been dreaming, but it had involved Diana, and it obviously had been sexy as hell, since her hand was between her legs and she was more than a little aroused. She lay in bed and tried to get back to sleep, but her mind was racing. What were they doing? They had gone way, way past a point where she could even pretend to herself that this was just how great friends behaved. Was this some sort of game, pushing an envelope that they knew they would ultimately not break? No. Whatever was going on, it was no game. But if they kept it up, it had to eventually come to an awkward point where they would have to back off. Diana wasn't gay. Jeanne certainly wasn't. There had to be a limit somewhere. What would happen when they reached it? Would it screw up their friendship? And would it be better to just tell herself she had reached it now, rather than later? But even as she thought that, she realized that she absolutely did not want to.

As these thoughts chased each other around and around in her head, Jeanne realized that her fingers between her legs were stroking softly. She thought she should remove them, but she didn't - couldn't, maybe. She let herself go, and, biting on the pillow to keep from making noise, found a release. It wasn't as satisfying as she had hoped, but it was something. As she finally slipped into sleep, she was wondering if Diana had done that.

She couldn't have known that Diana wasn't sleeping either. She had been lying in bed, thinking about how much she wanted to cross the hall and climb into bed with Jeanne. She could hardly believe she felt like this, but there was no longer any doubt about it. She didn't even have a clear picture in her head of what would happen if she climbed into that bed, but she knew she wanted Jeanne. She thought about what that meant. Did she want to kiss her? Yes, she realized. More? Yes. Suckle her breast? Touch her pussy? Kiss it? She knew, in the abstract, that those were the kinds of things that women did in bed. But even though she was letting herself acknowledge that she wanted a romantic relationship with Jeanne, those all seemed like alien concepts. Alien, yet she couldn't stop thinking about them, as her own fingers found their way between her legs, and brought her a release of her own.

* * * * *

"How did you sleep?" Diana asked when Jeanne walked into the kitchen the next morning.

"Oh, I've done better."

Bringing coffee and setting it in front of Jeanne, Diana said, "Really? You've been sleeping so well since you've been here."

"I had some things on my mind, I guess."

As Diana brought her own coffee and slid in to a chair across from Jeanne, she said, "Like what? You're supposed to be relaxing here, remember?"

"Yeah, well...it's not that simple."

"Tell me."

"Di; I don't know what's going on here. Pretending we're a couple, or whatever we're doing."

"Oh. Do you feel like you're pretending?"

Jeanne gave Diana a wry smile, and said, "Of course not. That would be too easy."

Diana returned the smile, and, looking into Jeanne's eyes, said, "Me either."

This was getting Jeanne nowhere. "I know this has been fun, Di, but really, what are we doing?"

"I don't know, Jeanne. But it seems to be what we both need right now. Why is it important to you to get the right label on it?"

Jeanne struggled with that one. "Well, because...I need to know...well..."