Maggie's Farm

bypeacekeeper25©

I never heard a woman say so bluntly what she wanted and wondered if this was real or I had entered an erotic fantasy. She then reached for me, putting her hand on the back of my head and pulled me to her lips. We kissed gently at first then harder, her tongue opening my mouth and our kissing grew fierce with passion. She lay on her back pulling me on top of her, spreading her legs and we began grinding against each other, kissing madly, our lust growing. Suddenly, she pushed me up and off of her, unbuttoned her shorts and squirmed out of them. I quickly stood up, looking at the thick curly hair between her legs then into her eyes, seeing she was stoned and took off my jeans. She smiled seductively at me as she leaned back, spreading her legs again, "Come on, Thom, if you want something wet and juicy."

I could not believe how she was speaking to me but got down on my knees between her legs, moving closer and felt an energy surge through me. "That's it, spread your legs for me," I said, surprised to hear myself talk like that, but I was stoned, my mind and body swirling with lust. "Come on, Thom, eat me," she said, drawing me to her with her hungry eyes.

Her dirty talking was exciting and got me even hotter. I was losing control and didn't care where my adventure was taking me. I wanted to let go of all inhibitions.

On my knees, my hands on her soft smooth thighs, I lifted her legs over my shoulders, the musky aroma of her wetness drew my mouth to her and I started licking her, lapping up the juices, while she moaned and pushed herself against my tongue, "Harder," she said. "Come on, eat me!"

Her words urged me on, my tongue darting as deep into her as I could, swirling around, moving in and out, her hands on my head pulling me into her, her strong legs gripping my shoulders, her ass lifting off the hay bale, trying to get my tongue even deeper, her writhing and loud moaning driving me to move my tongue harder and deeper, my nose pressed against her clit. I then moved my mouth and found her clit and started sucking and licking, causing her to jolt and shudder with each swipe of my tongue and that threw her over the edge. She was out of control, pushing her clit harder against my tongue, panting, making soft guttural sounds as she moved frantically against my mouth and tongue, "Oh, fuck, I'm cumming, I'm cummming, Oh, yesssss!" she screamed, lifting her ass off the hay, her body tensing and trembling before exploding into huge convulsions causing her to scream even louder, writhing on the hay bale, thrusting against my mouth, her ecstatic yelling exciting me, urging me to keep her screaming. Finally, she collapsed on the hay bale while I gave her a few more licks, devouring her juicy wetness, loving the sound of her panting and gasping.

With the taste of her juices on my tongue and lips, I moved up over her body, looking down into her eyes, my mouth just above her lips then kissed her, wanting her to taste herself, my throbbing hardness pressed against her. We kissed passionately then suddenly pulled our mouths apart, gasping. She looked into my eyes, "Come on Thom, fuck my brains out." I got on my knees, hovering over her, moving the head of my cock up and down her dripping pussy, playing with her, loving the intense sensation. She then put her feet down on the hay bale, lifting herself, pushing her pussy against my cock, "Stop teasing me." I liked playing with her, driving her crazy, teasing her, being in control, looking into her eyes, loving the pleasure on her face. "You really want me to fuck you," I said, moving my cock along her pussy lips, "You really want it bad, don't you? I added, enjoying talking to her like that, teasing her. "Beg for it!" I said, surprised at the person I had become. She then wrapped her legs around me, her ankles at my ass and pulled me into her, "Just fuck me!" she yelled.

"Say it again. Beg for it. Tell me what you want," I said, surprised that I was talking this way to her. It was so unlike me, but I liked it, liked having her begging, liked having this hungry sex starved women under me, begging me to fuck her. Suddenly, I felt I was in a porno movie and we were two people--a man and a woman fucking our brains out.

She looked me in the eyes and shouted, "Give it to me. I can't stand this. Don't tease me! Please fuck me!" Maggie was lifting her hips up from the hay bale, her hands grabbing my ass, her legs wrapped around my back trying with all her strength to pull me into her. She looked up at me, her eyes were fierce and it was all I could do not to pounce and thrust my cock into her. I was out of my mind with lust and suddenly plunged into her, driving her back to the hay bale, my cock going deep with one hard thrust, her screaming exciting me, making me want to pull out and thrust again harder and deeper, loving how her warm, wet, tightness gripped my cock.

"Come on, Fuck me harder," she yelled. "Give it to me, harder. Harder! Fuck me harder, damn it. Do me harder!" I loved her words, her screaming, her telling me what she wanted. My cock was like a red hot piston. We were fucking like wild animals. Suddenly, she pushed me off of her. "I want to be on top," she said. "I want to ride you!" I got on my back and she straddled me, managing to stay on the hay bale. She was on her knees, lifting herself then came down hard, impaling herself and screaming. She was sitting straight up, riding me faster and faster, harder and harder, her tits bouncing, her wild hair flailing all over the place. She was riding me like I was a bucking bronco, forcing me deeper, screaming at the top of her lungs, her whole body shaking, her head thrown back looking up and screaming at the sun coming through the barn roof and I sensed she was on the verge of exploding in a huge orgasm.

I then grabbed her by the waist and started lifting her up and bringing her down even harder. I knew I was on the verge of exploding and could feel the tremble coming up my legs, my orgasm building, rising slowly. She was riding me harder and harder and I was thrusting up into her with all of my strength. Maggie was out of control lifting herself up and coming down harder and harder then suddenly tensed, trembled, screaming, her whole body shuddering as a huge orgasm swept over her. She lifted herself up then came down with my cock deep in her and collapsed on top of me. I then quickly flipped her over on her back, got between her legs and rammed my swollen cock into her and pounded her harder, ram, ram, ram, our eyes were fixed on each other, looking deep into our crazed eyes and with that final thrust, my swollen cock erupted into an overwhelming orgasm, shooting my hot sperm into her just as she exploded again in another intense orgasm, both of us writhing in ecstasy as I collapsed on her, my cock deep in her pussy feeling her milking the last of my cum. I was still trembling as the aftershocks swept through me. She hugged me, holding me with her strong arms, her legs trapping me in her wet, juicy pussy, kissing my ears, my cheeks, my nose, my neck, my shoulder and then we lay there panting, gasping for air, looking at each other. "What just happened? I said, smiling down at her.

"We fucked!" she said. "We had an adventure," she laughed. "See what can happen when you just let go."

"Life is full of surprises, isn't it? I said.

"Only if you let it be," she said, looking up at me and then wrapped her arms around me pulling me into a warm embrace. We lay there quietly, panting, and I could feel her breasts crushed under me, loving the warmth of her body.

"So where are you off to, now?" she asked after a few quiet minutes passed.

"I don't know. I'll have to tell you on my way back," I said, looking into her sweet green eyes.

"I'll be here," she said, nodding, looking at me, a smile crossed her lips as if she was thinking but she didn't say anything.

We got up and put ourselves back together and hugged again before walking down to the farm stand. I looked back at the barn and over at the farm house then at the sign, Maggie's Farm, suddenly thinking about the world I had entered, wondering if I should stay or continue on my way. We didn't speak. I picked up my bag of apples and we looked at each other.

Though she was wearing the tight cut offs and her orange shirt and her long auburn hair was disheveled, she looked different, something had changed. Her eyes looked into mine and I sensed sadness and longing. Both of us looked at each other, feeling awkward, suddenly not knowing what to say. She then reached for my hand. "Stay for dinner," she said. "Come on. You haven't anything better to do, do you?"

"Well, not really and that sounds like a good idea, since it's late and I sure worked up an appetite and could use something more than an apple and a juicy peach."

"Cool," she said. "I've got a chicken ready to put in the oven and I got the fixings for a salad. I have some nice delicious wine and it's going to be getting dark in another few hours so I think you'd be smart to stay for dinner."

"Want me to help you with the farm stand--help put things away.

"Nah! I'll just leave it 'til tomorrow. No one will be coming by. No one's going to steal anything." She did pick up a few dollars from the little wicker basket and took the bills, leaving the basket.

I followed Maggie up to the house, glancing around at the farm, noticing the apple orchard on one side and a little further up a hill, a few peach trees, then out behind the house, a large field with corn and sunflowers. I noticed another area with raised beds overflowing with various vegetables--tomatoes, peppers, broccoli, cabbages, carrots and several beds of potatoes. Everything was familiar to me because of my years of gardening and being a frustrated farmer and I admired how lush and productive her little farm was.

In the distance, I could see rolling hills covered with the orange and red leaves of autumn. It seemed that I had entered paradise. It was so beautiful and I suddenly realized as I walked behind her, noticing how she looked in those tight cut-offs, her hips swaying slightly that she was a lot more than a sexy woman and I wondered if I had stumbled into something I did not expect when I suddenly took off earlier in the day.

When we entered the house, she led me into the kitchen and said, "I'm going to put the chicken in the oven then take a quick shower and I'm not inviting you to join me." She laughed. "I don't want you to get the wrong impression of me."

"That's fine. I'll just poke around and make myself comfortable and don't worry about right or wrong impressions. I'm not a judgmental person."

She came over to me and kissed me gently on the lips. "You're a sweet man," she said. "I'll be down in a few minutes and we can get to know each other in a little different way than in the barn."

When she dashed away, I looked around the kitchen, noticing a bowl of apples, pears and peaches on the round oak table and next to it, a vase with cosmos, zinnias and a few flowers I didn't recognize. A loaf of crusty bread sat out on the counter that I assumed she baked and hanging from the ceiling in the pantry were various strands of herbs drying. I also saw a big blue kettle and canning jars next to it and on the shelves, several rows of tomatoes and pickles. I walked into the living room and saw a big stone fire place with a wood stove in front of it. A long green couch with worn cushions, several other soft chairs and an old rocking chair were facing the fire place. I noticed a floor to ceiling book case and went over to browse. It was quite an impressive library with many classics and picking up a few of the books, could see that they were read, certain pages were dog-eared and a few had notes written in the margin.

I then noticed a smaller room, glanced in and saw a small desk with an old typewriter, surprised she didn't have a laptop. I then noticed what looked like a manuscript of easily three hundred pages. I saw an old coffee can filled with pens, pencils and a scissor and wondered if Maggie was a writer.

I then heard her coming down the stairs and I met her in the kitchen. She was wearing a clean pair of faded jeans, sandals, a white low cut blouse covered with a large green flannel shirt, unbuttoned and falling well below her hips. Her auburn hair was still wet and not as soft and fluffy as before but I liked how unselfconscious she seemed.

"It'll be getting chilly soon and this is my favorite shirt--even if it is a little large," she said then picked up the bottle of wine, "This is apple wine my dad made. You're going to love it" and poured it into two juice glasses. "Sorry, I broke the last wine glass about a month ago."

"To life, love and lust," she said clicking my glass.

"I'll drink to that," I said, then added, "To adventure!"

She chuckled and we sipped our wine, standing in the middle of her kitchen then she suddenly said, "Okay, Thom. It's time to make a salad," and she opened the refrigerator and brought out head of lettuce, a cucumber, a green pepper, grabbed a red onion from a basket near the pantry and a large tomato from a basket on the counter. She then handed me a knife. "How about you slicing the onion," she said while she picked up the tomato and started slicing.

"You like to take charge, don't you," I said, impressed with how quickly she organized the salad making.

"Not really," she said. "I just like getting things done and know what I want--also what I don't want," she laughed. "I like working together with someone and being on the same page. That's why our little communal experiment didn't work and why my marriage went south. We weren't on the same page and I would get upset when people wouldn't do what had to get done. It was frustrating as hell."

"You seem like a determined person," I said.

"Kind of, I guess," she answered. "You have to be determined when you have a farm and it's up to you to grow food and get by. There aren't any short cuts and that old farm adage, "You reap what you sow" is true." She looked up at me then shook her head. "I learned that the hard way."

"You did? What do you mean, the hard way?"

She took a deep breath and let out a sigh. "Well, a little over ten years ago, a bunch of friends, my husband, Richard and me decided to get out of they system and grow our own food and live together communally, share everything. We were idealistic and thought we could make it work, but after getting off to a gang-busters start, it didn't take long to see the romantic notion of living off the land turn into hard work. My dad sold us this land to farm, mainly because he was glad I was back in the area and not hitchhiking around the world with Richard--who he never liked, by the way."

I listened, nodding, slicing the onions, my eyes tearing, looking at her with my burning eyes, fascinated by what she was saying and now was the only one left on the farm.

"See, I grew up on a farm and knew it was hard work, but they all grew up in the city and most of them came from well-to do families and got what ever they needed with little effort. I never had it that way and I think that's why I'm still here and they aren't."

"Yes, but you said your husband are squabbling. He wants to sell the farm and you don't."

"Right and there's no way I'll sell this farm and leave it--I'm determined to do what I have to do to stay here. I'll never leave."

While she was speaking, I remembered my first impression of Maggie when I stopped to get some fruit and was captivated by how sexy she looked in the tight cutoffs and skimpy shirt, how seductive she seemed when she asked if I wanted something wet and juicy then got me stoned in the barn and we fucked like wild animals and now, I saw another side of her. I was seeing a determined, serious woman who was not only sexy but smart. I was intrigued by the duality, how she seemed at first, and now, how she was revealing another side of herself. I had never met anyone like her and found myself attracted to her complexity and wondered if this sudden taking off on an adventure was leading me to some place dangerous or some place where I might find a buried treasure and perhaps both. I didn't know.

During dinner, we continued talking, learning about each other, sharing stories, listening, nodding, asking questions. She told me again how she grew up on the farm but couldn't wait to leave and go to college, travel, live in the city, experience other cultures and how she and Richard traveled to Europe, staying in hostels, camping, working on farms in the south of France where she learned the method of farming she uses, how they went to Woodstock and rejected the whole bourgeois scene.

I remember thinking she must be older than she looks because Woodstock was over forty years ago. I was in my late twenties when that event happened and she seemed too young to have gone to it, but when I asked her how she could have gone to Woodstock, she seemed bewildered by my question, "Maybe I'm older than you think, but let's not go there." I was baffled by her statement but let it passed when she suddenly grabbed my hand and said, "Let's go outside and look at the stars."

When we went out on the porch, she took another joint out of shirt pocket and we got high again. We had our shoes off and walked bare footed out onto the cool grass and even though there was a full moon, the sky was brilliant with millions of stars. Neither of us spoke as we gazed into the universe and I remembered a line from a poem of mine and recited it, "something in me glistens at the hugeness of our insignificance."

"Yes, we are, aren't we--huge in our insignificance," she responded, looking at me then back up at the stars and took a deep breath. We were quiet and I glanced at her looking up at the stars and though it was dark in the light of the full moon, she seemed radiant, a faint silver glow on her hair and I remember how she turned to me and looked into my eyes then said, "I'm glad you're here."

"I am, too," I responded, loving the quiet and stillness, feeling amazed at how my sudden taking off earlier in the day brought me to this place. She then took my hand and pulled me into her arms and we kissed, embracing each other and I loved how she felt in my arms, holding each other, not speaking. After several minutes she looked up at me. "I don't know what will happen with us, but we have this night and that's what matters."

"Yes, one day at a time," I said pausing, thinking about her words and remembered an old song and, corny as it sounds, sang in my not very good voice, "for all we know we may never meet again, tomorrow may never come, for all we know."

"I know that song," she said. "I love that song."

While standing there, I looked over at the barn glowing in the moonlight and could see the dark outline of the garden and the fruit trees, the fence around the pasture and the small farm stand by the side of the road. We stood quietly, holding hands, loving how it felt being there with her and wondered what was happening with us, was I falling in love and where would this end, is this a dream; things like this don't happen in real life and especially to me.

When we went back to the house, she opened a drawer in the cupboard and pulled out a deck of cards. "These are tarot cards. I want to read your tarot," she said and sat down at the kitchen table.

"So you know how to read tarot cards," I asked.

"Of course," she said. "I'm a witch."

"You're a witch. Is that so?" I asked, completely surprised at how directly and simply she announced that.

"Don't worry. I'm a good witch not an evil one," she said, patting the cards.

I looked at her thinking about the Salem Witch Trials and the three toil and boil witches in Macbeth but was bewildered by her announcement.

"I'm a white witch," she said, shuffling the cards then dividing them into three piles. "A white witch is one who knows and is a healer, a teacher."

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bypeacekeeper25© 7 comments/ 47043 views/ 10 favorites

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