The Strawberry Tease

Alex was unsure if he was falling love. He hadn't felt so hot for someone in a few years and the last time he did was for a straitlaced Goody-Two-Shoes. But Mary? No. Mary was a bad girl at heart, a bad girl he wanted to taste and kiss and make love to. Everything about her provided him with the rebellious strength that was dormant within himself. They had yet to have sex or even to kiss or touch, but they both thought about it constantly. Funny, but they never really talked about getting together outside of the farm.

One day on the farm, during their big mid-morning break which lasted thirty minutes, he noticed the efforts she took to pack them a nice lunch. The sandwiches and fruit and crackers were in abundance in the picnic basket she had compiled, as were the many drinks: sodas, Gatorade, bottled water, juice. She had always seemed like the unorganized type, but for her to arrange such a basket to please not only herself but him as well showed what a sweet, caring girl she was. She thought about other people, and it was then he decided to confide in her the troubles with his father.

Alex often did not broach this subject with girls, for fear of looking weak or effeminate. But Mary did not take this view at all. He delved deeper into the subject of his mother's death and, again, the young lady's compassion blew him away. She did not think him spineless; just the opposite, in fact: she said he had an overpowering strength that he simply needed to implement instead of hiding. He took to heart her words.

Over the short time that they knew one another, they truly began to care for one another. Sitting beneath the broad limbs of a tree, alone, they spoke quietly, gently to each other.

"How's your sandwich?" she asked cheerfully, tucking her naked feet underneath her bottom.

Alex propped against the bark of the tree, his lean physique exaggerated to the maximum. "Very good. Thank you, baby."

They sat there quietly for a moment, and he studied her. He perceived that they were under the watchful eye of his overbearing father. Alex knew his father would not approve of Mary's rebellious and outspoken nature and this made the young man even hungrier for this teen, who, inexplicably took an interest in him.

As he watched her, she looked over the land, seductively eating a piece of fruit, the juices of it occasionally dripping down her chin. Like a young child, she would take her forearm and wipe her face clean, the two of them having used all the napkins she packed. He smiled. She turned and noticed his grin and spoke to him directly, chomping on her apple, gnashing it between her teeth.

"What are you grinning about?"

She looked like some sort of Midwestern goddess, posed there against the blue sky, wind fingering her hair, her swollen breast rising and falling. "C'mere, baby," he said quietly. When he spoke in that soft, gentle tone, she knew he meant business.

She hesitantly put her apple down and leaned in towards his propped-up body. He took her in his arms and drew her sweet, young face towards him with his rough hand. Anxiously, her tongue ran across her upper lip, their faces just inches from one another. They had not yet touched each other at all, for fear of the hawk's eye of Patrick. Patrick could go to hell. The first time touching each other, their hands wandered passionately, as if their palms were trying to memorize every blemish and line. Alex drew his buxom girl into his arms. He kissed her hungrily on the lips, gathering up her body and curling her curvaceousness into his. She gave him her lips and bit onto his tongue playfully. They erupted into low moans as they held each other and became carried away. His large hands were positioned at her neck, his eyes closed as they enjoyed each other. It was a sensual touch that had been long awaited. Her long, slender fingers stroked his dampened hair away from his face. He was extremely handsome, and she closed her eyes too, following his lead. His tongue, rough, almost like sandpaper, molested hers in wetness. His hand, calloused, rested on the soft curve of her hip.

They lied back like that in each other's arms, necking like two kids in the backseat of a Chevy, unaware of the surroundings outside of each other. It was a soft quiet as they made out, with just a steady buzz of distant conversation and the tree limbs overhead that fluttered with birds and other life.

In the middle of the passion, they almost didn't hear the sharp whistle blow to signify the return to work. They broke their kiss reluctantly and Mary's head fell in frustration, an I'll-be-damned grin crawling across her lips. It was time to return to the fields.

Part Five: The King's Confrontation

Father and son sat down to a quiet supper two days later. The subject of the kiss beneath the tree limbs had not been brought up and Alex wasn't dumb enough to do so - there'd just be hell to pay. Alex knew this. It's not that Patrick minded his son dating; he didn't. It was the type of girls that he felt he always needed to protect his son from.

Though the two of them rarely discussed the subject of women, Patrick gathered the feeling that Alex preferred the choice of bad girls. Rebels, troublemakers, tramps. He may have held hands with Catholic girls but when his child was a teenager Patrick would come home to find Alex necking with a skimpy-clothed girl, probably not even God-fearing. Patrick wanted his son to find a nice Catholic girl like his mother had been.

Alex, for his part, could not stop thinking of Mary. Even when she was not on the farm, he fantasized about her constantly, lost in the thought bubbles and lost in the pleasure that his hand gave him. It was not like a woman, he knew, and he longed for Mary's intimate touch and silky long hair and toothy rows of white teeth that he imagined gently scraping his underside. The beginnings of an erection hardened itself underneath the kitchen table. He knew what his father wanted to talk to him about; a contemptuous silence always preceded a dreaded conversation.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, piercing their pasta and salad in forkfuls, and occasionally sipping their tall glasses of soda, avoiding eye contact. Alex was unsure if his father had witnessed the kiss between him and Mary and, at this point, he no longer cared. It was funny how much unspoken confidence she had in him and how he felt it with such certainty.

Patrick put his fork down with a clang. "Alex, I want you to stay away from that girl." He paused. "You know who I mean."

"I know who you mean," Alex said, meeting his father's gaze. "But I don't intend to listen to you."

"Your mother was a fine woman. She would hate to see you wasting your time with a troublemaker."

Alex swallowed his rounded ball of pasta and took a sip of his soda. "Yeah, mom wouldn't like it. But since she's dead I don't think she'd particularly care."

Patrick shook his finger at his son and glared at him with a scarlet face. "Now listen here, sonny boy, you're free to have that smart mouth, but you won't be so wise if I kick your skinny ass outta here."

Alex knew his father was bluffing. Patrick may have been a strict old bastard, but he wouldn't leave his son out in the middle of nowhere, both figuratively and literally. Even with that thought crossing his mind, Alex wouldn't mind being deserted with Mary. She'd make abandonment taste good. The young man held his grin back and he enjoyed pushing his father; he rarely did it, but it was always satisfying. Alex made no comment and his father continued without being prompted.

"The girl shouldn't be dealt with seriously. I don't have the heart to let her go because she's a damn good worker. Ever since she became a woman," he said, his voice drenched in sarcasm, "she's been nothing but a headache for the male sex. Bad influence. Now you get your mind right, sonny."

Patrick's stern warning only made Alex's erection harder and wetter. It was confirmed by the lips of his own father that this girl was bad. The young man wanted nothing more, at that moment, to punish her in the sweetest way possible and to be her master for an hour. She was a naughty girl for being with so many boys, but he never applied crude names to her for this. Simply put, she was a sexy young woman and he wanted to teach her a lesson or two in the eight years he had on her. He chuckled into his napkin, trying in vain to hide his laughter but not at all succeeding.

"Dad, I don't know what to say," he snickered.

"You don't have to say anything, young man. My house, my rules and you will follow them."

Alex smiled and shook his head, bringing his plates and cup to the kitchen sink and then plopping down in front of the TV in the living room. Somehow, he barely noticed his own quiet rebellion towards his father - it seemed to come so easily. He had not agreed to his father's rule, nor had he denied Mary in the conversation.

On the television a soda commercial popped up onto the screen. A sweating can of Pepsi was clicked open by a feminine, pink fingernail. The camera focused on the face of the thirsty young woman, tilting her head back and drinking in joy. Her long whisps of hair blew gently behind her against the background of a blinding, sunlit beach and flying, colorful beachballs. Alex watched intently. The girl happily wiggled away from the camera, turned her head around, and beckoned the viewer with a curling finger. "Come with me," she seemed to say, and Alex agreed to this prophecy.

Part Six: Strawberry Seduction

In the heat of the sun, Alex's face drew back and paled. He knew what was coming. Mary, with her soft voice, had told him to meet her at the house at 10:30 that morning. All the farmhands were poised, hunched over, picking strawberries, wiping their brow in the blazing light. He felt a hotness in his young body for her, twofold with the summer's mid-morning fever. He wanted her buxom, voluptuous body so badly and he knew she felt the same for him.

Mary, for her part, was tired of waiting for Alex to make his move. Yes, they had kissed a few days ago beneath that old, shady tree, but it needed to be taken further. Every time she eyed his long, lanky body in the fields, sometimes with his shirt on sometimes with it off, her small, tight pussy would ache with a longing to be filled and stretched by his manhood which she had yet to see. She wanted to be taken by him. She wanted to take the bull by the horns and begin things.

Alex's watch read 10:27. Close enough. His heart was racing, as if it were wearing a set of wheels and it was rushing off with him. His body was sweating from the backbreaking toil, but more than that he sweated for her touch. As he leaned over the strawberry plants, a drop of sweat rolled off his nose. He was melting at the thought of having her sweet body and those big, round breasts he had such a fascination with. It was time to have her. He pulled the bag off his big frame and set it on the ground where his work halted for the day. He wiped his dusty, dirty hands off on his shirt and walked gingerly, nearly fearfully towards the house.

He knew that his overbearing father, Patrick, was in the fields somewhere, putting his back into the fruit picking, determined to make a success of his farm like he had every year. He was no longer concerned with his father - if he were to pry into his business, so it would happen. Mary was a sexy, taboo piece of fruit for Alex's mouth, and he wasn't going to waste a chance to taste her lovely flesh. He approached the house. It became bigger and bigger as it neared, and he trembled. Again, he wiped his sweaty, dirty hands on the tail of his shirt.

And then he saw her. He stopped in dead surprise: she was lying on her side beneath the shade of a tree, completely nude and basking in the natural elements. His erection doubled in pain and size at the sight of this girl. In the shade, a stiff, reluctant wind blew and tossed her long brown hair away from her teenage body. Her breasts were full and grabbable, and her thighs were plentiful in their sweet lusciousness. In between her soft, supple thighs lied a trimmed, upside-down triangle of brown hair. It looked so soft, and he wanted to feel the girlish hairs tickle the inside of his nostrils.

But what caught his eye - what really made him stare - is that she had a basket of strawberries next to her body, and she was sucking the juicy tip of one. Her wet, pink tongue escaped the trap of her mouth, curling at the tip of the fruit and sucking at it seductively. She did not greet him in her usual friendly manner; she looked at him sexily above her thick lashes and invited him over wordlessly. He obeyed her command.

Alex admitted to himself that his overcautious father was right: Mary was a dangerous girl. She was a bad girl. God, she was a sweet little baby, and he wanted to have her right then, but he could wait patiently and play her tiny adolescent games. He may have been a full-grown man of 26, but he was ready to fall to his knees in complete submission for a taste of her juices and skin. Her barely legal body of 18 years could not be more tempting at this moment and all the warnings his father had given him were washed away with the sight of her moist, licking tongue.

Alex swept his damp, sun-streaked hair out of his face to see his girl better. He was in love. He knew he was. He loved her bold sexuality. How a girl her age became so sexually confident was a mystery to him, but he adored her for it. Taking in the sight of her voluptuous nakedness, he was nearly scared stiff. After this long, shocked pause, he began walking to her again and lounged next to her body on the grass. Without a word exchanged, they breathed into one another, their eyes darting across each other's faces, never able to settle on one place: wide, excited eyes, little glimpses of a smile. After a moment, he gently spoke to her, tucking her long hair behind her ear.

"How are you, baby?"

She smiled slightly, knowing that she had him. "I'm wonderful. How are you?"

"I'm so good, my darling girl. I'm happy to see you."

She took her small hands and started to take his shirt off, lifting it up over his head. He cooperated fully and kissed her. His tongue found hers and they nastily played with each other, eyelids half-drawn, small whimpers and moans escaping from their lips. Mary loved his chest. It was so stern and hard with very little hair on it. She had admired it many times as she worked afar from him in the fields. She loved the ripples of his stomach, almost like a washboard. She raked her polished nails along his skin and as they neared the waist of his shorts, his stomach instinctively gapped in, wanting her to touch him intimately.

Alex, with his rough farmer's hand, softly rubbed her smooth, petite shoulders as they curved into themselves with smallness. They were round and young. And his hands went lower, down to her breasts. As they kissed, he held her big tits in his hands, stroking the sweet, pink nipples that quietly demanded his attention. Her breasts were so big and natural; they had a natural firmness to them. He loved touching her body and felt he could molest it forever. It was his.

He reluctantly broke their kiss and took a strawberry out of the basket. Holding the green cap of the fruit with his thick fingers, he fed it to her. The sight of her mouth at work was more than he could bear. She bit off the tip slowly, sensually, the juices running down her chin. It reminded him of filthy things. The snakelike curls of her tongue, so sinful and tempting, made his erection harden to a point of pain, a most delicious pain. And he knew she was excited too; he could smell her moist pussy juices in the thick summer air.

In contrast to his dirty, sweaty body, hers was clean and looked like it had been freshly washed though he knew she had been in the fields since dawn with the rest of the strawberry pickers. He almost - almost - hated the idea of tainting such a pretty girl. But when she asked him if he'd like to go inside the house, he quietly agreed, nodding his head, grabbing the basket of fruit.

Once inside the house, the air conditioning hit them like a most wonderful punch in the face. He took her hand and led her from the kitchen into the living room where they plopped down on the couch. His long legs and big body provided a generous lap for her small and curvaceous frame. Naked, she sat on the couch next to him, her feet curled beneath her soft bottom. Not wanting to interrupt their rhythm, he patted his lap, urging her to make a place on himself. It was as if he was urging a sweet kitten to make herself comfortable and she was a sweet sex kitten. His.

Now in the privacy of a cooled home and out of the sweating and melting sun, their kisses were even more urgent and powerful; there was no such thing as a close-mouthed kiss. They kissed one another and into each other, hungry for the stuff on the inside. Mary, sitting on his lap, felt his long, hard log pressing into her soft butt. He stroked her most private of skin and she was so wet and eager for him. This young lady splayed herself to his prying fingers like an improper flower. God, they were both in heaven.

Mary giggled into his mouth and Alex smiled at her laugh; it was so soft and feminine, so melting of a man's strength. He stroked the softness of her cheek, and she climbed off his lap and stripped him from the waist down. Now he was completely nude, and his cock gagged her eyes. She did not know how many inches he was, but she knew it was more than enough to please and satisfy any woman. Mary couldn't help but stare; he was a big boy. She stood on the carpet, naked and wide-eyed, biting her bottom lip.

"C'mere, baby," he whispered. "I want to feel you on me." And his penis dripped visibly. He was creamy with desire.

She sat sideways on his lap once more, compact and soft, and he kissed the side of her face. He had made a decision: she would have to be punished, only slightly, for teasing him on the farm. Her skimpy little clothes that tormented him in bed at night, making his mouth as dry as cotton. Her slight touches that drove him crazy with hot desire. Those sexy boobs that always looked so easy to grab and split with the wet edge of his dick.

Next to them on the couch sat the basket of strawberries. He quietly commanded her to situate herself on him thus: on her hands and knees across his lap, readying herself for his punishment. Her pert butt stuck up proudly, and he rubbed it. It was free of blemish and glowed in the sunlight that filtered in through the curtains. He smiled at her precious face that screwed into a perverted smile.

"What are you going to do?" she asked him sweetly, putting on her best schoolgirl act.

"I'm going to do what I should've done a long time ago, sweetheart. I'm going to punish you for teasing me all this time." He rubbed her ass and gave it a slap. She let out a yelp and giggled. "Let's see how you like to be teased, baby."

"I can take anything you dish out, Alex. I'm ready for you."

"Oh, I know you're ready, baby. That's why I like you so much." He rubbed her sweet pussy from behind, feeling the soft hairs needling his skin, her desire wet and dripping onto his naked thigh. "Do you like this?"

"Yes," she said, squeaking out her answer.

"I do too, baby. But I've been much too lenient with you."

After a slight pause, he smacked her bottom again. "Oh my," she breathed.

"That's for slapping me in the face. Doesn't feel too good, does it, baby?"

"No, it does," she answered submissively, her long dark hair falling to the middle of her back and down her elbows.

He slapped her bottom for a third time. "And that's for teasing me with that body of yours. You like showing off your big tits, don't you baby?"