Night of the Strawberries

"Not open?"

I shook my head. "No. Not until Tuesday morning." There was nothing for it. "May I impose on you for another favor?"

"What?"

"Would you mind terribly if I camped in your yard for a couple of days? I'll be happy to pay you. I'll order the part first thing Tuesday morning, have it overnighted to your house, and once I install it, I'll be on my way."

She laughed. "First off, FedEx can have a package delivered anywhere in the world overnight except Montevista, Mississippi. If you want it overnight you'll probably have to have it shipped here, to someplace in Calhoun City. But sure, you can stay at our place." She smiled again. "Maybe we'll put you to work in the fields."

"You're sure you don't mind?"

She shook her head. "Not at all. It'll be nice to have company. We don't get many visitors."

"Thank you, Helen. Thank you very much."

"You're welcome. Need anything while we're in town?"

"I don't want to impose."

"It's not a problem. We're here."

I smiled. "No, that's okay. What I'd really like is a shower." I forced myself to look away in case my face gave away what I was thinking, which was I'd like to have a shower with her.

"I think we can manage that."

She clunked the truck into gear and we began the trip back the way we came. Monday I'd use her phone to call around Calhoun City and try to find a place that would accept a delivery of my replacement shock. As we rode back, we talked about this and that and I found out her husband had died in a farming accident. That answered my question about why she was still on the farm. I wondered what happened, but she didn't volunteer, and I didn't press. I expressed my condolences, but she claimed the accident had been so long ago, the pain of his loss had morphed into nothing but good memories.

Finding out she was available, I secretly hoped she was lonely and would like some male company. Watching her breasts jiggle after we turned off the pavement onto the gravel road that ran in front of her house was hugely distracting, and her slow, honey thick southern drawl was incredibly sexy as well, so I spent a lot of time gazing at the passing cotton fields and thinking about motorcycles so my cock wouldn't get any harder than it already was.

She turned the truck into the drive and drove past my bike with a crash of gears, returning the vehicle to the barn. It was almost four by the time I stepped out of the truck, and I heard a faint rumble of distant thunder. The sun was still as bright and hot as ever, but clouds were building dark and threatening in the distance.

"You want that shower now?"

I swear to God she purred. It seemed like she might be coming on to me, but I wasn't sure, and decided to err on the side of caution. I'd gladly fuck her, but I wanted to stay in her good graces, and I didn't want to embarrass myself if I was misreading the situation.

"I'd like to setup camp first, if that's okay?" If she wanted to sleep with me, this was her chance to make her desire clear. She'd only have to invite me to stay inside once. After five months, I'd gladly fuck her, or her daughter, or both of them at the same time.

"Sure." Despite my efforts to not get my hopes up, I was slightly disappointed she agreed so readily. "You'll join us for dinner, won't you?"

Hope sprang eternal. "You're sure you don't mind? I have supplies on—"

"Perish the thought," she interrupted with a dismissive wave. "We'd love to have you." Her slow sexy smile appeared again. "Margie makes the most amazing strawberry cobbler, and I'd like you to try our strawberry jelly."

I'd love to have you too... over and over again. "Thank you. I accept."

"Have you ever had a home cooked southern meal?"

"I can't say I have."

Her smile spread. "Dinner will be at six. Fried chicken okay?"

"I love fried chicken."

Her smile spread even more before she turned toward her house. I stood and watched her ass as she swayed away. When she reached the front porch, she turned to look over her shoulder, caught me watching her ass, and smiled as I quickly diverted my gaze in embarrassment.

I started my motorcycle and moved it onto the grass, and then began assembling my camp under the large oak in the front yard. Touring on a motorcycle meant I had to pack light, so it didn't take long. Finished, I debated what to do, but the heat, and the thought of the air conditioning in Helen's house finally drove me to her front door. Holding my nicest clothes, I rapped softly on the thin and slightly wavy glass in the door.

After a moment Margie opened the door. "Come in." She glanced at the clothes in my hand. "Ready for your shower?"

"If the offer's still good. I haven't had a real shower in three days. I probably smell like a goat."

She looked me over as she closed the door. "You smell like a man... and freedom. I kind of like it."

My damned cock tried to embarrass me. "So freedom smells like a sweaty guy?" I asked while trying to will my stiffening cock down. She held my gaze for a fraction to long, and it took every bit of my willpower to not think of Margie riding my face as Helen rode my cock. Or the other way around.

"Bathroom's back here," she said with a smile told me she knew what I was thinking. She led me through the kitchen and stopped in the hall just past the door to the bathroom. Beyond the bath were two more doors, one of which was clearly for a bedroom, and a third door that opened onto some type of enclosed porch. "If you need anything..." she paused just long enough for her meaning to become clear, "just ask."

I need to fuck you. You and your mother. "Thank you, I will."

The bathroom was tiny, its space apparently carved out of the nearer bedroom, with the old cast iron, claw footed tub taking up most of the available space. The tub had a showerhead attached to the spigot, and a semi-clear shower curtain on a rod that circled the tub. I stepped into the room and closed the door. The moment I released the door it slowly began to open. I pushed it shut again, making sure it latched. It stayed closed that time, but as I started to undress, I heard a creak. When my head popped out of my shirt, the door was slowly swinging open. I pushed it shut a third time, giving it a good shove, but as soon as I released the knob, it slowly drifted open. With Margie, and probably Helen, only a few feet away in the kitchen, I couldn't very well leave it open, so I pushed it shut one more time and dropped my shirt on the floor in front of it. The door stayed closed.

As I finished undressing, my cock became achingly hard when, despite my best efforts, I thought of the three of us standing in the tub having some soapy fun as the water sprayed over us. I considered rubbing one out, to give me some relief, but I was afraid the damn door would open again, and with the nearly clear shower curtain, Helen or Margie would catch me in the act.

When I stayed in a motel, I took my time and luxuriated in the water, but this time I showered rapidly. Even though I bathed as quickly as possible, the tiny room had steamed up. With no exhaust fan there was little I could do about it. I dried myself as much as possible, slipped on my pants, and then opened the door, sighing in relief as cool air flooded into the room. Standing shirtless in front of the sink, I shaved, brushed my teeth, and combed my mop of hair. I needed another haircut.

By the time I finished, the room had vented enough it no longer felt like a sauna, and I quickly shrugged into my shirt. I gathered my gear, slipped on my shoes, and stepped into the hall.

"Finished?" Helen asked the moment I appeared.

"Yes. It was wonderful. Thank you."

"If you'll leave your clothes, I'll wash them for you."

"No need for that."

She rolled her eyes. "You're going to be here for a few days. Why don't you bring in your stuff and I'll throw them in with our laundry. It's no bother."

As I hesitated, Margie peeked around her mother. "Oh, for Pete's sake," she said with a smile as she stepped from behind Helen and pulled my clothes from my hands. "Now, go get the rest of your stuff, and when you get back, I'll give you something you'll really like."

Margie was definitely flirting. I decided to go with it. "With an offer like that, how can I refuse?"

"That's better," Helen agreed.

As I walked to my bike, I adjusted myself to release the pressure on my folded cock. Maybe I should have taken the chance and jacked off in the shower. These two women were so sexy, the first one I fucked was going to make me go off like a damned rocket. If I fucked them, I reminded myself, not wanting to take anything for granted.

I gathered my clothes. I'd washed everything Thursday, so they weren't reeking yet, but they didn't exactly smell like roses either. I carried my bundle to the door and then rapped softly. Helen appeared, opened the door, and took the clothes.

"Was that so hard?" she asked with a smile.

No... but my cock is. "No."

"Go see Margie."

I followed Helen into the kitchen, pausing as she continued to the rear porch with my clothes. Margie turned from the counter to face me. "You said you were going to give me something I'd like?" I asked with my best smile.

"What do you want?" she cooed.

"Whatever you're willing to give me."

She smiled as she dipped a spoon into a bowl of sliced strawberries. "Try this."

She held the spoon for me to taste. I opened my mouth and she slowly inserted the utensil. The berries were sweet, juicy, and tasted amazing. I moaned softly. "Fantastic."

"Wait until they're baked in the cobbler."

Helen reappeared and I stood aside as the two women moved in the kitchen with practiced ease. "Can I help?"

Helen glanced over her shoulder as she peeled and sliced potatoes. "No, we've got this. I've never been out of Mississippi. Why don't you tell me more about what you've seen on your travels?"

As the women worked, I talked about the things I'd seen, sprinkling the tale with my various misadventures. I led with unwittingly pitching my tent on an anthill and the resulting chaos, and finished with me freezing my ass off for forty-five minutes in a cold northern lake where I was bathing while a bear took it upon itself to investigate my campsite. They listened intently, asked a few questions, and laughed at my jokes as they prepared our meal. Soon the kitchen was full of the smells of frying chicken and potatoes, and the baking cobbler.

"So, then I saw your barn, and here I am," I said, wrapping up my extended monologue as Helen pulled the bubbling cobbler from the oven.

"So you crashed your bike today?" Margie asked.

I nodded. "Only forty or fifty miles from here."

"No wonder you were so dirty," Helen said with a smile of her own.

"Yeah. I had dust in my mouth, in my eyes, and probably other places I didn't want it. When I started dusting myself off, I made my own dust cloud."

The two women snickered. "At least you weren't hurt."

I rapped on my head with my knuckles. "Head's too hard for that." I saw Margie glance at my package and I smiled to myself.

"Ready?" Helen asked as she began forking chicken onto a paper towel covered plate while Margie first poured beans, and then the fried potatoes, into two serving bowls.

"It smells wonderful," I said honestly as I carried the potatoes to the table.

We settled at the table where we held hands as Helen said grace. Helen and Margie insisted on serving me first. "That's enough, really!" I exclaimed as Helen dipped potatoes onto my plate beside the beans and chicken.

She handed me the dish with a smile. When their plates were served, I tucked in as an involuntary smile touched my lips. It was heaven on a plate. "Oh my God! This is just fantastic!"

The women smiled at each other. "It's nice to have someone to cook for."

"If I buy the groceries, will you cook for me again?" I asked, only partially teasing.

"Of course," Helen agreed with a small, pleased smile.

We finished the meal, and I ate far more than I should have, stuffing myself on chicken, beans, potatoes, and fresh biscuits with strawberry jam. "I can't..." I grunted as I pushed the plate away.

"Did you save room for my cobbler?" Margie asked.

"I can't. I'm stuffed."

"Just a little taste?" she asked with a playful pout.

I smiled. "Okay, just a taste." When Margie hopped up from the table and moved to the stove, I turned my attention to Helen. "That was terrific. Thank you."

She placed her hand on mine. "You're welcome. I, we, enjoyed doing it."

Margie appeared with the cobbler and Helen drew her hand back. After placing the still steaming cobbler on the table, she returned to the kitchen before reappearing with three dessert plates. She dipped a spoonful onto the first plate, which I knew would be handed to me, but when the spoon went in for a second load, and she was still holding plate, I gently took the dish from her hand.

"That's plenty."

I waited until the ladies had theirs and then took a bite. I'm a guy, so I don't swoon, but I nearly swooned. I only had enough on my plate for three bites, but when they were gone, I held my plate out again.

"Maybe a little more," I said. I was probably going to regret asking for more later, but Margie's pleased smile was worth it.

After dinner I insisted on helping wash dishes as there was no dishwasher. I washed while Helen dried and Margie put away. I was fascinated when Helen refused to allow me to wash the two cast iron skillets she'd used to fry the chicken and potatoes. She didn't place them in the soapy water I'd used to wash the rest of the dishes. She simply wiped them clean with a paper towel, rinsed them under running water while wiping with a soft scrub brush, and then dried them on the stove. It was almost like there was a ritual to it and she didn't trust me to do it right.

Kitchen cleaned and dishes put away, we settled in the small living room. Helen and Margie took the couch near the entrance to the kitchen, forcing me to sit in the matching chair by the phone, and I was slightly disappointed that I wasn't sitting by one or the other of them. I'd run out of tales about my adventures, so we talked a little about ourselves. About nine Helen produced a bottle of strawberry wine, made from their own strawberries, and we all had a small glass.

I was finishing my glass as thunder rumbled closer than it had all evening. I was feeling a bit out of sorts, like maybe I was coming down with something. It was probably the food. I'd likely packed in more calories with that one meal than I normally did in four or five meals when on the road. Topping it off with a glass of wine probably didn't help. Thunder rumbled again, and I hoped one of the women would ask me to stay inside. Not that I minded sleeping in my tent in the rain. I'd done it many times, but there was more to staying inside than not having to sleep outside in the rain. At least, I hoped there would be.

"I guess I should go, before it starts raining," I hinted.

I saw Margie glance at her mother, and I wasn't sure, but she looked hopeful. "You'll join us for breakfast?" Helen asked as she rose.

Fuck. "What time?"

"About seven?"

I wanted to groan. I was more of a sleep late, work late kind of guy. Even on the road I rarely rose before eight. "Thank you. I don't know how hungry I'll be after stuffing myself tonight, but I could eat something," I said, holding Margie's gaze.

Both Margie and Helen smiled at me. I could tell by Margie's smile she'd picked up on what I'd said, and the way Helen was looking at me, I suspected she had as well.

"We'll see you bright and early then."

Fuck. "Yes, okay, and thank you again for letting me stay in your yard and for dinner."

"You're welcome," Helen said. A heavy roll of thunder rattled the house and I waited a moment to see if an offer of shelter was forthcoming. It wasn't.

"Sleep well," I said as I turned to the door. I thought about making a comment about sleeping in the barn to avoid the storm but decided that was childish and petulant. Helen and Margie had helped me so much already I should be grateful.

I stepped onto the porch. Lightening flickered in the distance and a cool but clammy wind was picking up. I stepped off the porch as the door clicked shut behind me. I glanced back and saw Margie watching through the window. I waved casually, silently urging her to invite me back inside, but she turned away.

I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to clear my head. I was still feeling a bit wooly, but with each breath I began to feel better, and Goddamn did I want to fuck Helen and Margie, but I needed some indication from them they were interested before I came on too strong. I didn't want to ruin their hospitality, and I still wasn't certain that my own horniness wasn't making me read the situation incorrectly. I'd hinted, but neither of them gave any clear indication they'd have welcomed my touch.

The night air was clearing my head as I walked across the yard to my camp. I crawled into my one-man tent and began to undress. If the weather got too rough I'd go to the barn, but for now I was going to stay in my tent. I always slept commando, if it was warm enough, and though it had cooled considerably since this afternoon, by the time I was undressed and lying on my sleeping bag, I was damp with sweat.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I was achingly hard, but I didn't want to wank off in my tent unless I had something to catch my seed. I didn't want that shit in my tent, and I didn't have anything handy. Alternately, I didn't want to do it in Helen's yard because... well... if she caught me, I was afraid it'd freak her out. Even if she didn't immediately order me off her land it would probably destroy any chance I might have of fucking her.

I was still debating going to my bike to find something to catch my semen when I heard the first fat raindrops hit the nylon, making the decision for me. "Dammit," I grumbled as I closed my eyes.

I lay in the tent as the rain began in earnest. The wind picked up, causing the rain to slash at the fabric. I wasn't worried the tent would blow away as it had endured worse storms than this, but the noise of the wind and rain made it hard to sleep. Lightening flickered close, the large oak's limbs casting claw like shadows on my shelter as thunder rumbled slow, close, and heavy.

"Dan! You in there?"

The voice made me jump. It was Helen. "Yes. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Come inside out of the rain."

I quickly unzipped the tent. Helen was standing there holding a robe closed in a clenched fist. "You sure?"

"Yes. Hurry. The weather is going to get worse."

Another heavy rumble of thunder thumped against my chest. "Go inside. I'll be right there."

She turned and hurried to her house as I quickly jerked on my pants, not bothering with a shirt, underwear, or shoes. I crawled out of my tent as the sky flashed bright with the heaviest roll of thunder yet following close on its heels. I hurried across the grass to where Helen was waiting for me under the shelter of the porch.

"Thanks," I said as I bounded up the three steps to join her. We were both soaked, but I'd never seen a sexier woman.

"The radio said the weather was going to get a lot worse, and we didn't want you out there... just in case."

I smiled. "Then doubly thank you."

She opened the door and led me inside. The moment the door closed, the feeling I had before, the fuzzy headedness, started coming back. I'd had only the one glass of the strawberry wine, and that on a full stomach, but I felt like I was slightly drunk. Except I didn't. It was difficult to describe the feeling, and I wondered if I'd been poisoned, or if something I ate was making me feel this way.

"You're welcome."