Salvaging Life on a Back Road

A year after starting work on the house, I was ready to begin doing something outside to get the grounds looking as nice as the house. Now, gardening and landscaping is not something I know a lot about. I know how to plant a tree and cut grass but when it comes to flowering shrubbery and perennials and such, I have a brown thumb. For most of that I ended up relying on a local business over in Dover.

It had to be not much past 6AM one Saturday morning when I awoke to a racket and clatter out in the back yard and a couple people yelling at each other. I pulled a pair of jeans and a tee shirt on before slipping on my boots and brushing my teeth. When I stepped out the back door I just had to stand there and watch.

This great big bear of a man standing at least 6'6" with what had to be a 50 inch gut was leaning on a hoe while scratching his head. A couple of feet or close to it below him was a tiny young lady poking her little finger in the man's great big gut and cursing him out like a drunken lumberjack. If she hit 5' even and weighed more than 90 lbs. it would have been an exaggeration.

She was beet red in the face and letting him have it but before she could finish whatever she was trying to get out the big bear just started roaring with laughter and slowly walked off grinning the whole time. She looked up at me and her persona instantly changed and revealed a very polite and demure young lady ready to make introductions and conduct business at what my watch told me was 6:15AM in my torn up back yard.

"Good morning, Mr. Smythe. I'm Ellen Waterman from Donna's Nursery. I don't think we've met yet." the little miniature girl said.

I'm not being fair in that she wasn't a midget or a dwarf or anything like that. She was just really petite.

"And good morning to you too, Ms. Waterman. You can call me Connor and if you don't mind I'll call you Ellen and we can dispel with the formalities. I trust Donna brought you up to speed with everything we are doing out here?" I asked her.

She nodded affirmatively and I invited her in the house to go over the plans for the day and to have a cup of coffee.

"I apologize for the racket earlier, Mr. Smythe, I mean Connor. Olaf, my jolly green giant, wasn't paying attention like he should have been and he made a mess of some of the stuff we staged for the day. Anyways he's on the right page now." She smiled.

"Think nothing of it. I'm surprised he didn't just stuff you in his sack and carry you off under the bridge ... just kidding." I said in reply while chuckling.

I poured her a cup of coffee and we went over the plans before she excused herself and returned to her work outside. I watched her for a bit through a kitchen window. She was actually damn attractive with long blond hair tied in a tight braid down her backside and a hell of a nice ass filling out a pair of tight work jeans. Her eyes were not blue but more like violet. I don't think I've ever seen the same eyes with anybody else other than in pictures of a couple of women, Elizabeth Taylor being one of them. I guessed her age to be young early twenties.

While Ellen may have been very petite, she was anything but dainty. At some point in the morning I saw her hoisting rocks and throwing dirt around better than her giant Swede who seemed to just take her in stride at his own steady pace. I took a pitcher of lemonade out to the two of them around mid-morning and chatted up to the both of them for a few minutes on one of their breaks.

She was actually 23 and had a degree in Mathematics from the University of Maine at Orono, never married and moved back here to take care of her ailing mother before she passed away a year earlier. The woman running the Nursery she worked for was actually a close friend of her mother's and talked her into staying on to manage their contract landscaping side of the business.

Ellen and Olaf along with a couple other workers at varying times spent much of the next couple weeks finishing up the work they started and when they were done, I had new free standing stone walls, a stone retention wall running along one side of the yard and an assortment of shrubbery and plantings tying the whole place together. In addition I had a date with Ellen for that Saturday night.

The weekend found the two of us at the Bears Den over in Dover sampling a couple of custom Ales and listening to a three piece jug band belting out a local flavor of stoner country. We had a great time and set things up to do it again the following weekend. The locales varied in the evenings over the next couple months but during the day on weekends, we started exploring some of the back country and getting out on the lake when we could.

It was a comfortable routine and after the first couple dates the sex was fantastic. Ellen's ass was definitely better out of those jeans than encased in them. She is a small breasted girl with light, fair pencil eraser nipples that stand solidly erect when aroused or chilled. Ellen was the first woman I ever experienced who I could bring to an orgasm playing with her nipples... fantastic sex.

So, with a regular friend with benefits, an enjoyable job at the plant and a very cool old house, my life seemed to be coming together four years after my divorce. My boss at the plant threw the new vegetables in the pot for good measure.

"Connor, I need a project manager for the new plant up in Island Falls. Would you be interested? More than likely when it's done I'll want you to take on wood buying for the whole company instead of just here in Sangerville." My boss asked me one Monday morning.

John Brooks was a pretty damn good boss as they go, fair to all his employees and as accommodating as you would ever want from a guy. I couldn't see turning him down especially since he had been building my responsibilities as well as my paycheck since I started working for him.

"John, I'd love to. When do you want me to start?" I asked him.

"This morning." was his reply and by early afternoon I had a bag packed and a company trailer behind my truck on the way to Island Falls or more precisely, Pleasant Lake. The company was putting me up at a small resort on the lake while the project was in full swing.

I had stopped by the Nursery to ask Ellen to look after my place while I was gone. We had become good FWB although we were not exclusive but even still we had a close friendship. After all the goodbyes I pointed myself toward my destination. Later that afternoon found me parked on the construction site with the company office trailer set up and taking a tour of the site with the facilities engineer.

"Connor, we are sure to hell happy to have you up here working with us. John has spoken very highly of you and I know the crew and I are looking forward to working with you."

Jimmy Brown was my on-site engineer, a graduate of MIT who moved to the woods of Maine looking for his own personal Nirvana a few years earlier. He was a couple years younger than I with piercing blue eyes and a beard down to his chest with an affectious smile that would light up a room when he entered it. Working with him was a little mousy looking girl named Clara Henderson hired on as a summer student out of UMO. She would stay on through the summer and work weekends after that as needed. The heavy lifting for her would be pretty much complete by the time school started back in.

Jimmy and Clara made introductions all around and I settled into the trailer for a couple hours to get everything I needed set up. Afterwards I set out for what would be my temporary home away from home; Maineland Estates Resort. It wasn't anything real fancy but it was rustic and comfortable as well as convenient to the plant site.

After getting checked in and my stuff to the room, I treated myself to a lobster roll and a couple cold beers from the restaurant and bar on the premises. A kid with nice Martin D6 was trying to crank out cover versions of old Dick Curless songs with a Johnny Cash standard thrown in for good measure. He wasn't going to go far out of the County with what talent he had but he kept good time and the guitar was a fine piece of craftsmanship.

I was sipping an Allagash White when a lady took the bar stool next to me. There were plenty of other seats but she wanted the one next to mine.

"I've heard that's pretty pricy stuff for mouthwash. Donna, can I get a JB on the rocks, dear?" she shouted out at the young barkeep.

She was around mid-forties on a good day although the lines and bumps were doing their best to break out into view. A couple extra open buttons and a killer set of thighs matched with a polished white smile complemented the nicely dyed blond mane. I thought she had on a bit too bright a shade of red on her glossed lips but with little effort it would lusciously smudge off to most men's satisfaction.

Donna the Barkeep brought over the whiskey for the sultry regular letting her know it was on her tab. She extended her small hand with its deep red polished nails and I took it in mine.

"Janey Pelletier." She said when her fingers met mine and she smiled.

"Connor Smythe, pleased to meet you." I replied. "The beer is actually quite good as wheat beers go. How is that JB?"

She just chuckled.

"It was a cheesy pickup line. Yes, we girls have those too." She said when she noticed my quick amusement.

We chatted comfortably while Dick Cash Curless strummed out a few more tunes from his guitar and a couple beers later I was laid back on the comfortable queen size bed in my room thinking of those red painted lips encircling my intensely hard erection. Her nipples were bursting through the fabric of her obscenely opened blouse and that mousy brown pussy was just winking at my lustful predicament.

She didn't come back to my room with me. We parted company with her heading toward her cottage just around the corner and me walking to my rented room in the other direction. I satisfied myself thinking of her older woman charms with my own trusty palm. Janey Pelletier, come to find out, was the manager of the new plant I had arrived to oversee the construction of. I double swallowed my beer when she told me that after I swiped the image of her uncrossing her thighs not once but twice. She was divorced, had a 22 year old daughter and was originally from Madawaska. She liked whiskey, manufacturing and men, not necessarily in that order.

"Goodnight, Mr. Smythe. We'll be doing it again, you can be sure of that." She smiled at me seductively when we left the lounge for the night.

The rest of the week was spent with meetings and updates getting ready for the foundation crews to begin their work. Janey stayed absent from the site for the most part since there was little interaction between our roles at that point. She was focusing on HR staffing issues and project work with the head office.

I had stayed out of the lounge the rest of the week because of workloads but when the weekend came around I decided to stay through rather than drive down to Sangerville. I don't know if that was a good thing or not. Friday evening the resort lounge was packed with vehicles of every description parked on the grassy field behind the place. Instead of a single busker strumming old country songs to a handful of guests, the lounge had transformed into full- fledged honkytonk saloon complete with a big hat country band and several cute waitresses carting around trays full of longnecks. It could have been Texas except for the flannel and accents.

I don't know what it was about Island Falls but it had the finest selection of older women I had ever encountered. That isn't to take away from the girls younger or my own mid-thirties but Janey Pelletier had a lot more completion than I would have ever imagined; until she walked in and I caught a glimpse of her on the dance floor doing a Maine version of a Two-Step. That's his and hers flannel and L.L. Bean boots instead of going cowboy. You have to see it to know what I'm talking about.

Janey and her date, an older fellow named Roger from Houlton up I-95 from here, joined me along with Jimmy and Clara from my project team. We were all drinking longnecks except for Janey who was sipping whisky sours. I had just polished off one when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I turned to look up into the smoky blues eyes of a mid- forties wet dream.

"I need a man to dance with. How about you?" She asked without any hesitation.

I might have held my gaze a bit longer than I should have but I was on my feet as soon as my brain redirected the blood flow to my tongue.

"I'd be honored, ma'am." I replied.

"My name is Nancy, not ma'am. I'll let it pass this time." She said and we were off to the dance floor.

It was an easy dance number and my new found partner and I found our rhythm quickly. We were out there for three straight numbers before I invited her to our table to meet the rest of the group.

"I'll go over to meet them and stay for a bit, Connor, but I'm with a group of friends and I don't want to leave them. However you can bet I'll be dragging your butt out there again and maybe even get you to join us for a little bit. OK?" She asked.

Of course I had no objection and that's what we did. Jimmy bought the table another round and when that was finished, Nancy leaned over, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and headed for her table giving me a wink as she left.

"Now, Connor, you have a thing for the older women?" Janey asked me with a smirk on her face. Her date just laughed but I didn't miss her seductive pursing of the lips. Thoughts of that woman were going to kill me later I recall thinking.

"Janey, I always have a thing for an attractive, confident woman and Nancy, well, she's all that, for sure." I replied.

All the ribbing aside, we pounded another round and while on the way back to the floor after paying my beer rent, I stopped off at Nancy's table only to find she was already on the floor with another guy, this one probably pushing late fifties like Roger. I didn't have to stay disappointed long. One her table mates hopped up and grabbed my hand leading me onto the floor.

She was younger and cute but not in the same league as Nancy. Regardless we had a blast and after a couple more songs, we headed back to her table and joined them for a bit. A few more minutes and I was on the floor again with another one of the friends. That pattern continued for the next hour with an occasional stop at my original table. I hadn't danced that much in years.

"My friends seem to like you." Nancy whispered in my ear while we moved to a slow one.

"You've got a good selection in table mates." I replied.

"Well, I'm claiming you for the rest of the evening." She said.

I didn't object. We were having a good time and we joined my original table for a while. I was in the middle of a swallow of my beer when I felt her hand on my thigh. I didn't need any further invitation.

An hour later and I felt my dancing MILF's lips take the head of my cock in her mouth and bring me to the place called paradise and that was before she pushed down to take all of it in her mouth. Nancy gave me the best blowjob I had in years and over the next hour we tasted, explored and enjoyed every inch of ourselves. Her pussy was like hot butter when I entered her and she was totally consumed in lust. It was by far in excess of my wildest imagination.

When we finished, she lit up a cigarette. I didn't know she even smoked as I never tasted or smelled it on her.

"It's only after I have sex, baby; a holdover from my smoking days. A pack can last me a year." She said almost demurely.

"That long?" I kidded?

"I don't get out much."

When she finished we took a shower together and she dressed to leave rather than spend the night. It was a comfort thing for her to sleep in her own bed at night and I understood. I'm the same way most of the time. Before she left, Nancy left me her business card and I gave her mine with promises to definitely get together again. She was different, something special and I thought of her until I drifted off to sleep.

Saturday night was a repeat of the previous evening for the lounge and a couple hundred other patrons but I stayed out. One night of that kind of living a week is more than enough for me. Maybe it was my getting to middle age that gave me pause. In any event I found more comfort Saturday night walking around the lakeshore than in a bottle and on the dance floor.

The air was cool at 6AM the next morning as I pulled the aluminum canoe over the gravel launch and into the water. The surface of the lake was without a single ripple and when the oar dipped into the calm water it pushed the canoe easily off the shore. It was quiet and a bit of mist hung on the distant shore with only the bump of an oar against the aluminum side breaking the solace and tranquility of the morning still.

I paddled for the next hour and then let myself drift as I lay back to enjoy an awakening day. By the time I returned the ripples had come and gone and small waves were beginning to lap the shore. Sunday in this neck of the woods is a day for contemplation. It has to be because there isn't anything else going on except for what I was already doing.

The grind of the work world returned with a vengeance the next day and with construction crews arriving to begin work on the new plant, my world morphed into an almost endless array of long days connected to periods of sleep. I was making the trip back to Sangerville most weekends and would spend a day or two occasionally with Ellen and once in a while Nancy and I would toss sheets. I didn't keep either relationship from the other and things were acceptable for quite a while, until things got complicated.

"I'm pregnant." She said over the rim of her glass of lemonade.

I didn't know what to say in reply so I let her continue.

"I'm pretty sure it's David's" Ellen added when she saw the surprise upon my brow.

David was one of Ellen's FWBs when I wasn't around. She had told me they were spending more time together and might take it more serious but of course she would let me know when it got to that point. We both thought that was funny at the time but now it appeared that the point had been sharpened.

I liked Ellen a lot, maybe more than I would readily admit at the time but I also knew it wasn't a lifetime love. If we were born to an earlier era where love was 'arranged' I would have been a lucky fellow but we're modern people or so we tell ourselves. We weren't soulmates.

"Anyways, I guess I need to let you go, you sweet adorable knucklehead. David and I are going to take it to the next level." She said.

"It sounds like you already did to the tune of 8 lbs. or more." I said to her with a big goofy grin on my face.

I'd miss her but we'd always be friends and if it didn't work out for her I know right where I could park that tiny little ass of hers. I'd love to say she gave me a wonderful going away fuck but that didn't happen. It would have probably ruined whatever we had if we did it then.

So, nearly five years out from the "The Divorce" another FWB had moved on, work continued getting busier with more responsibilities and I continued enjoying the occasional festivities with Nancy, my mature woman dream come true.

I had built a cottage up on Pleasant Lake to live in when I was working out of Island Falls and Nancy started keeping some of her personal effects there. Neither of us was seeing anybody else and our get-togethers were averaging a couple times a week. She would crack a joke about it being pretty much like man and wife except we never fought over anything. I had to agree. We were comfortable and we weren't looking to do any more than exchange spit and enjoy life.

As the months went by, the comfortable routine started setting roots and the northern Maine experience became pretty much all I cared to have. I had been overly ambitious earlier in life as had Martha and we saw where that led eventually. As much as I tried to avoid it, Martha was still the yardstick in my life. I measured my life by years since 'The Divorce'.