The Mistress One Farm Over Pt. 01

The past year has been incredibly challenging for Mark. About eight months ago, he experienced the loss of his beloved grandfather. And more recently, tragedy struck again when his partner, the love of his life, also passed away. The pain and grief he felt were overwhelming, and even now, he continues to battle with deep depression. This emotional turmoil led him to take an extended leave of absence from work, which unfortunately put a strain on his finances.

In search of a solution, Mark carefully considered his options. Ultimately, he made the decision to move in with his recently widowed grandmother and assist her with the operations of her small farm in exchange for financial support. Mark hoped that this change would offer him a quieter and more straightforward lifestyle, allowing him the space and time to navigate the challenging aftermath of these heartbreaking losses and contemplate his future.

As Mark drove up the familiar, lengthy dirt driveway, a wave of nostalgia washed over him. This place held cherished memories from his childhood summers, although he hadn't visited in quite some time. Life had become increasingly hectic, and the distance between his current residence and his grandmother's farm had grown. However, circumstances had changed dramatically, and Mark sought solace and a simpler existence, prompting his return.

Spotting his grandmother outside, engrossed in her gardening, Mark couldn't help but notice her struggle with mobility. Age had taken its toll, which was precisely why she had reached out to him for help. Parking his car in front of the house, he stepped out and warmly greeted his grandmother.

Her response was filled with relief, "Oh, I'm so glad you're here. Things have been tough lately, and your help will make all the difference. Come inside with me, and I'll whip up some lunch."

Over the course of the afternoon, they chatted about various tasks that needed attention around the farm. It was mostly what Mark had anticipated, and he felt fully capable of handling the responsibilities. As their discussion drew to a close, they began discussing the changes that had occurred in the surrounding small, sleepy town.

Mark's grandmother reminisced, "Do you remember old Tom, our neighbor? He passed away a few years ago, and his daughter has taken over the farm. I hope you don't mind, but I shared your cell phone number with her. She may need a helping hand. She's new to this and doesn't have anyone to rely on." Mark welcomed the idea, realizing that connecting with more people and potentially making new friends could be beneficial.

After tidying up from lunch, Mark decided it was a good idea to swing next door and introduce himself. He climbed into his beat-up old car and drove down the long dirt driveway, continuing down the road towards their neighboring farm. As he approached, his attention was drawn to someone emerging from the barn on the opposite end of the property.

Stepping out of his car, Mark walked over, calling out, "Hey, how you doing?"

The person, carrying a bag of grain, gently placed it on the ground, appearing a bit bewildered. "Hi," she called out, her voice tinged with curiosity, "who are you?"

Mark was taken aback by her presence. She stood before him, emanating an air of strength and confidence. Her attire consisted of a fitted tank top and jeans that accentuated her well-defined, muscular legs. The fabric clung to her torso, subtly hinting at the power beneath. Her bright red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing a face of striking beauty--an intriguing blend of fierceness and grace. There was an aura about her that could be described as both captivating and slightly intimidating, as if a misstep in his words could shatter the delicate connection forming between them.

She spoke again, her voice a mixture of curiosity and firmness, "Excuse me, can you hear me?"

Mark snapped out of his daydream, momentarily captivated by her stunning features, "Oh, sorry. My name is Mark. I'm the guy from next door. My grandmother gave you my number in case you have any issues here. I thought I should introduce myself."

Her expression softened, a touch of understanding coloring her face, and a small, melodic laugh escaped her lips, "Oh, I see. Well, nice to meet you, Mark. I'm pretty busy today, so I don't think I can show you around. But I'll give you a call if I need help. Honestly, I'm pretty good over here."

Mark couldn't help but admire her capability and independence, realizing that she was more experienced on the farm than he was. "Yeah, just don't hesitate to text if you need me. I'll get out of your hair," he offered, his gaze lingering for a moment longer before reluctantly taking his leave. As he was just getting back to his car.

He heard the lady calling to him. "Oh hey Mark," he turned to look, "my name is Liz by the way," she picked up the grain bag again got back to work.

The next couple of days passed by in a blur for Mark. He found himself running around, assisting with various tasks on the farm--preparing fields, attempting to fix old tractors by fervently searching for YouTube tutorials, collecting eggs from the chicken coop, and mowing an abundance of grass. Amidst the busyness, his thoughts were constantly occupied by Liz. He anxiously awaited a text from her, hoping for a reason to reconnect and engage in conversation. Each notification on his phone raised his hopes, only to be disappointed when it wasn't from her. He felt somewhat foolish after their last encounter.

One day, as a fierce storm rolled in during the late afternoon, Mark hurriedly completed a couple of outdoor tasks before making a dash to seek shelter from the rain. Checking the forecast, he discovered that the storm was expected to last throughout the night. Realizing that the remaining tasks would have to wait until the following day, he decided to turn in early. However, in the middle of the night, his sleep was abruptly interrupted by the sound of his ringtone. Without even checking the time, he brought the phone to his ear and answered the call. He immediately recognized the voice--it was Liz.

"Hey Mark, sorry for waking you up," she apologized. "I really need an extra set of hands. This storm knocked in part of the barn, and I need help patching the hole. I know it's a mess, and I'm sorry."

Mark's eyes widened, and he sprang out of bed, fully alert. "Yeah, for sure. I'll be there as soon as I can," he assured her, before hanging up. Hastily grabbing the pants he had left on the floor, he rushed through the rain to his car and drove as safely as possible along the now muddied old dirt road. Upon arriving at Liz's farm, he noticed lights emanating from the barn. He quickly got out of his car and jogged over, careful not to slip on the muddy ground.

Inside the barn, Mark saw the extent of the damage. A large tree near the back of the barn had fallen, causing significant damage to the structure. While Mark's farm primarily focused on crops such as wheat and soybeans, Liz's farm centered around animals, particularly sheep for their wool. The barn served as their shelter, and now the relentless downpour was crashing through the damaged section.

Liz stood there, drenched to the bone, wearing the same black tank top and jeans ensemble he had seen before. Her feet were clad in large boots, and she wore gloves. Her hair, once neatly tied up, had come loose and clung to her face. "Thank God you're here!" she called out.

Mark couldn't help but be taken aback. Despite her soaked appearance, her clothes clinging to her skin, she looked even more stunning. He managed to regain his composure, asking, "How do you want me to help?"

Over the next few hours, Liz issued numerous orders as they worked together to resolve the situation. They used a chainsaw to cut off the large branch that had pierced the wall and then pulled it out. With the available materials, they did their best to patch up the wall, albeit in a hasty and imperfect manner. By the time they finished, exhausted, it appeared to be holding against the weather.

Liz sighed, her voice filled with exhaustion and gratitude. "Well, I'll need to get better materials tomorrow and patch it up properly. Tonight was a disaster. I really appreciate your help. Why don't you come inside for a moment? I'll give you a towel, some old sweats, and a hoodie to dry off. Maybe I'll even grab you some food."

As Mark stood in the kitchen, waiting for Liz to return, his mind raced with anticipation. He reminded himself not to read too much into the situation, as it could jeopardize the progress he had made with this intriguing woman she told him to wait there to not soak the whole house and He followed her instructions and patiently waited, wet and cold. As she walked into the rest of the house he couldn't help by admire her body as she walked away, her soaked jeans shifting with her muscular ass with each step. He felt like he was under a spell.

When Liz reappeared, towel-drying her damp hair, Mark nearly had a heart attack. She had mostly dried off, but what caught him off guard was her change of attire. She was now wearing pajama shorts and a sports bra, revealing a glimpse of her toned abs. He had to steady himself, resisting the urge to faint. Her slightly shaking and jiggling movements as she dried her hair were mesmerizing.

She tossed him a towel and a set of old sweatpants and a hoodie, urging him to dry off and change. Still stunned by her appearance, he caught the clothing in the towel and followed her instructions. She informed him that he could leave his wet clothes behind, as she would wash and dry them, returning them once they were done. He stood frozen for a moment before she snapped him out of his trance, pointing him towards the bathroom.

Mark hastily closed the bathroom door, finding solace in front of the mirror as he attempted to regain his composure. There was something about Liz that had a hold on him, both mentally and physically. He dried himself off and looked at his own faintly muscular body in the mirror. He used to work out regularly when he lived in the city, realizing that his new job and the farm's physical demands made a gym membership unnecessary. He neatly folded his shirt and pants, placing them on top of the toilet. He then undressed completely, dried himself off, and donned the warm and dry sweat suit Liz had provided.

Glancing at his soaked boxers, he debated whether to leave them with his pants for Liz to clean. It felt somewhat personal, but at the same time, he didn't want her to think he wasn't wearing any underwear if he didn't leave a pair. Ultimately, he folded them neatly and placed them between his shirt and pants. With a deep breath, he stepped back out into the kitchen.

Liz was bent over, her head in the fridge, providing Mark with a tantalizing glimpse of what lay beneath her shorts. Clearing his throat to announce his presence, she stood up, asking if he was hungry or thirsty. She had a few items in her hands--a bit of meat, cheese, and butter. "I can slap together a sandwich for you," she offered. "I feel bad for dragging you out here this late at night. Do you want a beer?"

Mark wasn't particularly hungry or thirsty, but he figured that if he declined, it might cut short their time together. He accepted both the simple sandwich and the beer. Liz handed him a can of something cheap and began assembling the sandwich--a few slices of cheese, some ham, and a generous smear of butter. "I know it's not much," she said, "but I really do appreciate it. If you ever need a hand from me, just shoot me a text, and I'll be over within an hour."

Mark nodded appreciatively, feeling a mix of gratitude and nervous excitement. "Thank you, Liz. I'll definitely keep that in mind," he replied, taking a bite of the sandwich.

As they sat in the kitchen, sharing a quiet moment together, Mark couldn't help but hope that their connection would continue to grow, fueled by the sparks that seemed to fly between them.

She made them both small sandwiches and began eating, breaking the silence that had settled between them. After a few bites, Liz initiated the conversation. "So, you're new to helping your grandma, huh? Is this your first serious farming experience?"

Mark nervously replied, "Yeah, actually. I found it kind of funny when my grandma offered my help to you because it seems like you're much more knowledgeable than I am."

Liz chuckled lightly and responded, "Yeah, I've been farming for a good chunk of my life. I used to spend summers out here when my old man was around. It's always been a part of my life."

Curiosity got the better of Mark, and he ventured into another topic. "Any chance you know anything about fixing tractors?"

Liz was taken aback for a moment before leaning back in her chair, stretching her body. Her serious expression indicated that she was genuinely considering his question.

Mark tried to downplay it, emphasizing that it wasn't a big deal. "It's just that we have a couple of tractors for harvest that keep kicking the drive belt clean off, and I have no clue what's causing it. I've been watching YouTube videos and trying to figure things out, but tractors are not my expertise."

Liz burst into a deep belly laugh, finding humor in the situation. It was a beautiful sound that resonated with Mark, instantly drawing him closer to her. In that moment, he resolved to cherish the sound of her laughter for as long as possible. "I mean, I don't use tractors much here, but I do have one. I could take a look. Maybe we have a similar issue. I've had my drive belt kicked off a couple of times, so who knows? I'll swing by tomorrow with your dry clothes in the afternoon, and we can figure it out," Liz offered.

Mark's face lit up with gratitude and anticipation. He was thrilled by the prospect of seeing her again so soon. "I'd really appreciate that," he responded sincerely. The rest of the night was filled with perfect moments--light-hearted jokes that led to laughter far beyond their deserving. Mark only had one beer, as did Liz. Eventually, Mark realized it was time for him to take his leave. He bid her goodnight, went back home, and attempted to sleep, though his thoughts of Liz kept him awake.

As the sun rose, Mark acknowledged that he would have to endure a tired day due to his lack of sleep. Despite feeling the effects of exhaustion, he dressed and began tackling his daily chores. He split firewood for the fireplace, tended to the animals, and pulled a few weeds from the garden. He intentionally avoided starting any major tasks until after Liz arrived, wanting to fully concentrate on their time together.

Surprisingly, Liz showed up early in the afternoon, around 1:00. Mark had been expecting to hear her car, but instead, she arrived on a bicycle. They lived relatively close to each other, which explained her mode of transportation. Liz had a bag on her back, and she pulled out a plastic bag tied at the top. "Brought your clothes," she said, handing them to Mark. He briefly went inside to put them away before returning to thank her.

"Thanks," Mark expressed. "I don't think I actually thanked you last night for the sandwich. It was good."

Liz appeared slightly confused. "The sandwich was to thank you for helping me with that whole disaster last night. I don't think you're supposed to thank a thanks," she chuckled. Mark joined in, realizing his unintentional redundancy.

They moved on to the reason Liz had come over--to take a look at the troublesome tractor. Mark nodded, recalling the other half of why she was there. "Oh yeah, come on. It's over here," he motioned, leading her to his small workshop/garage. Inside, there were two small blue tractors. Curiosity got the better of Liz, and she asked why he had two tractors if he was the only one there.

Mark shared an amusing story. "This is kind of a funny story, I guess. The farm used to be even smaller, and my grandfather bought the small tractor. But as they grew a bit bigger, it became really time-consuming to do all the fieldwork with such a crappy little tractor. Instead of buying a bigger one, he just bought a second small one. And whenever different seasons would come around, he would get one of my uncles or someone to come out and give him a hand." Liz laughed, finding the story fitting for Mark's grandfather.

They popped the hood of the tractor and began inspecting it. Almost immediately, Liz identified the issue. "Right here," she pointed out, indicating a small bent piece of metal that was hidden behind the wheel on the drive belt.

"I think we have the same model of tractor, honestly. It's this dumb little piece here. It bends if you hit a rock or anything, and then it hooks the belt every time it goes above a certain speed. You can just bang it flat with a hammer, and you'll be okay. If you have a hammer around, I can do it myself," she suggested.

Mark directed her to the workbench, and she hurriedly fetched a hammer. Crawling mostly inside the hood of the tractor, Liz began hammering away at the problematic area. In that moment, she caught Mark's eye, radiating confidence and grace. It didn't matter how peculiar her position seemed; she always looked perfect to him. He moved around the side of the tractor, pretending to observe her work but truly captivated by her presence. Each forceful blow of the hammer sent a shiver through her body, leaving Mark in awe.

When Liz finished and stood up, Mark found his voice. "I guess I owe you a sandwich now," he said, a slight flush creeping up his face.

Liz giggled before responding, "No, I think I'm still in your debt. You were a real good boy last night." The words "good boy" sent an electrifying sensation through him.

Mark couldn't shake off the effect of being called a "good boy." It had sent a jolt of excitement through him, making him feel alive in the most exhilarating way. Liz paused, creating a momentary suspense as she seemed to contemplate his reaction. Eventually, she assured him that he didn't owe her anything and went on to fix the other tractor.

Before long, Liz was gone again, leaving Mark yearning for the next time he would see her. He hurriedly rushed inside, running up to his bedroom and locking the door behind him. Sitting at the end of his bed, he replayed in his mind the way she had called him a "good boy." It sounded like a melodic song, reverberating in his thoughts.

He held the plastic bag containing his old clothes that Liz had cleaned, ready to put them away. As he sorted through the items, he realized that only his pants and shirt remained; his boxers must have fallen out at some point. Mark brushed it off as insignificant, as they were not particularly new anyway. He neatly stored the clothes in his dresser, but not before taking a moment to lean his head down and inhale deeply. The scent of the clothes carried the essence of Liz's home, likely from the soap she used. He carefully set them aside, not wanting them to lose her touch or the comforting reminder of their encounter.

As Liz pedaled her bike away from Mark's house, a wide smile formed on her face. She couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph, knowing that she had managed to evoke a reaction from him. Though she had played it cool, deep down, she relished in the way he had flushed and reacted to being called a "good boy."

In that moment, Liz made a conscious decision. She wanted more. She wanted to explore the chemistry and connection she felt with Mark. The attraction between them had become undeniable, and the thought of indulging in their desires excited her.

With newfound determination, Liz allowed her thoughts to wander, contemplating the possibilities that lay ahead. She knew that pursuing something with Mark would be a delicious adventure, and she was ready to take that leap.