Orchard Flower (Version Bravo)

by Lubrican

Chapter : Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Chapter Fifteen

I woke with a bladder so full and painful that it demanded instant attention. There was no choice but to extricate myself from her arms and get to the john quickly. She mumbled, but then just rolled onto her face when I left the bed. Her naked backside seemed to rise a bit, as if she was trying to wiggle to her knees for some reason.

When I returned, she hadn't moved. I stared at her soft butt and thought about what to do. I was sure, at this point, that if I played with her, she'd be more than happy to make love. I would too, for that matter. I looked at the clock. It was eight thirty, almost criminally late in the day to be getting up.

I slapped her ass, trying to make it sting, but not leave a mark and she yelped.

"Get up!" I said loudly. "Your mother's probably at the back door getting ready to come in after you!"

She yelped again and flailed in the bed, bouncing out of it to stand, wild eyed, looking around. Then her eyes cleared and went to my face. I realized I'd made a mistake by not getting dressed first, but then found out I was wrong when she slapped my shoulder.

"That hurt!" she complained. "I thought you loved me!"

"I do love you," I said. "It's eight-thirty in the morning and you never went home last night."

"So?" She was unrepentant. "I'm on vacation."

"Well your mother isn't, and neither am I," I said.

"So go do your chores," she said indifferently. "I'm a mess, and it will give me a chance to get cleaned up before we go over for breakfast."

"Breakfast is probably long over," I said.

"I know how to cook," she said, sticking her tongue out at me.

She looked good, and my pecker reacted. I looked down at the half hard thing.

"Ohhhhh," she cooed. "You do love me." Then she amazed me by stepping back. "Is sex all you think about? Go do your chores so I can clean up."

"Sex isn't all I think about," I complained.

"Then why are you wagging that thing at me?" she asked. She pushed a hand between her legs. I watched as she slid a finger inside herself and pulled it out. "I'm still slippery from last night," she said. "Didn't you get enough last night?"

"Um ..." I stopped when she looked up at me.

"If you say you did you're in big trouble, mister!" she barked.

"What am I supposed to say then?" I croaked.

"Say you love me," she said firmly.

"I love you," I responded.

"Good," she said. "Do your chores, and then we'll eat breakfast, and maybe then I'll let you chase me around and wag that naughty thing at me some more."

Lynne woke in a state of almost, but not quite shock. Imagine the shock of being told you won the lottery, and are a millionaire. You know it's true, but you can't quite believe it. Then you wake up the next day and that shock is still there.

She felt his arm against her nose, where she'd pushed her face against him. They were lying side by side, but pressed together. She lifted her head carefully, only to find his head turned sideways. He was wide awake, and staring right at her.

"Hi," he said. He wasn't smiling ... exactly ... but his mouth looked satisfied.

"Good morning," she returned.

"I confess I've never been in this situation before, and have no idea what to do right now," he said.

His honesty about it made her feel a little bit better, because she wasn't sure what to say or do either.

"Well ... it's morning," she said. "What do you normally do in the morning?"

"Oh there is no way in the world I can think of this as a normal morning," he sighed. He did smile gently then.

The sudden awareness that she was stark naked sent blood rushing to her face. What made it so odd was that she wasn't used to being naked with a man, particularly a man she didn't know all that well, and that if felt completely normal to be naked in this situation, with this man.

"I know what I'd like to do," he said. His eyes changed and she saw in them what she'd heard in his voice in the dark, hours before. She almost shivered.

"Again?" she whispered, unbelieving.

"Do you remember what I said after supper last night?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"I said I could get used to that."

"Yes, I remember now." She smiled.

He rolled onto his side. His hand came to slide up her flank, onto her back, and behind her head as his fingers tangled in her hair. He kissed her lips gently and then pulled back.

"I could get used to last night too."

Her heart thudded in her chest and she felt hot all over. The memories of last night were all tangled up in her mind. She remembered it all, but not in order. Instead it was more like a jigsaw puzzle. She knew what it would look like assembled, and she recognized where each piece went, but right now they were just bright bits of memory.

He kissed her again and his hand slid up to cup a breast. He wiggled down to suck at the nipple gently. She felt the lust explode in her again, and realized she'd felt that way almost all night long. But it had been dark then, and it was light now. With shock she realized it was daytime.

"Jill!" she gasped, looking around.

He let the nipple go and smiled. "I don't think she came home last night."

Lynne looked past her stiffened nipple at his eyes. "She didn't?"

"I'm pretty sure she didn't," he said. "I never heard her, and the police never showed up."

"The police?" Lynne frowned and blinked her eyes.

He grinned. "Anybody who came within fifty yards of this house last night would have called the cops and reported a murder in progress."

She blushed and pushed at him. "No they wouldn't!" she said.

"Did you ever see that old move called Porky's?" asked Zack.

She shook her head, looking confused at the change of subject.

"You didn't miss anything, except if you'd seen it, you'd know why my new nickname for you is Lassie." He grinned widely. She frowned, but there was a questioning look on her face too, so he went on. "I knew you'd be passionate. I just didn't know you'd be passionate and loud."

She blushed. "I wasn't loud!"

He howled, like a coyote, and she slapped at him, yelling at him to stop, which made him howl even louder, until she was pushing and pinching. She got her feet into play and pushed hard. He slid off the edge of the bed and hit the floor hard as she gasped.

She was trying to get to the edge of the bed to see if he was all right when he stood up. His hard penis was right there, in front of her eyes. She'd felt it with her hands, and her mouth, in the dark. She'd felt it inside her, making her feel fantastic over and over again in the night. Now she knew what it looked like. She realized she was staring and craned her neck to see him grinning.

"You must be punished for that," he said, an exaggerated growl in his voice.

She squealed and tried to roll away, but he was on her in a flash and she knew she wouldn't have a chance. He'd been that young lion last night, once he'd figured out why she was there, and she'd been almost weak with the joy of submission, once he took over. Then, when it had ended much too soon, she'd become demanding, taunting him and teasing him, making him give her more of what she'd come for. Their roles had reversed four more times during the night as she found out what made a young man in his physical prime such a perfect match for a woman in her sexual prime.

Now, as she was overpowered and manhandled into position under him, his knees forced themselves between hers. She resisted, but not too hard. She bit, but only to inflame him. Her growl matched his as, uncharacteristically, she forced a hand between them and grasped his hard prong, bringing it expertly to her opening. When he lunged forward, skewering her, she hissed in his ear and her blunt nails dug into his back. Her legs wrapped around him, squeezing hard as his hips jabbed frantically and rapidly in short jerks.

She was sure he was going to pop quickly, when suddenly he pushed hard and stopped. She was delighted when he started the slow circular grind her hands had taught him in the night. Briefly she wondered where she'd learned that herself, but then the joy of what he was doing pushed that out of her mind, and she just welcomed the waves of pleasure he was bringing to her.

She reached with virtual open arms for the orgasm he brought her, straining out to reach it and pull it close to her, to be cherished. She wanted to laugh, because he was still howling, making high pitched keening sounds. But she couldn't laugh, because her throat was already busy somehow.

When the first orgasm was followed by another one she realized it wasn't him who was making coyote sounds now, but if felt too good to shame her.

"Oh yeah," she heard him grunt into her ear, as his penis spat streams of heat into her yet again. "I could definitely get used to this."

Jill and I did, in fact, hear the noise while we were still outside.

"What's that?" she asked, concern in her voice.

I was in the midst of deciding what "that" was when Jill opened the back door, at which time the sound got louder.

"Wait!" I called.

"Something's wrong!" she gasped.

"No!" I said, trying to make it into a loud whisper.

"Somebody's hurt!" she cried.

"Not hurt!" I gasped, reaching for the sleeve of her jacket. I was trying not to laugh.

"Bob!" she yelled, trying to break my grip.

"You sound like that!" I said, unable to keep the laughter out of my voice.

"What?" she looked confused.

"Last night," I laughed. "You sounded just like that. I think maybe your plan with Zack worked after all."

The wailing died away. There were other noises, but they weren't clear at all. The temptation to go closer ... to eavesdrop ... was strong in me. I realized my unused morning erection was back again, and started to feel guilty for envisioning Lynne, on all fours, howling at the ceiling, with a strong young man pounding into her from behind.

Jill whirled to face me. "I did not!" she gasped, scandalized and looking almost upset. Then her face changed and she whirled back around to face where the noises were no longer coming from. "Mommy!" she gasped.

I reached her as she started to take a step forward.

"You can't go in there!" I said firmly. "Think about this, Jill!"

"But she's hurt!" she said, straining against me. She stopped suddenly and turned to face me again. "I sounded like that?" Her eyebrows rose an inch.

"Pretty close," I said. "You made it really clear that you were having a good time."

Her face got red, as if the room was too hot after the cold of December outside. "I sounded like that?"

I hugged her, thinking it was really too bad we still had winter coats on, because she could have felt my boner against her otherwise.

"You made me feel like a young man again," I said, kissing her nose.

She blinked.

"Oh my gosh! They're ... they're ... they're ... Oh my gosh!" She stiffened and wiggled.

"Isn't that what you intended?" I asked, grinning.

"Yes, but ... I didn't think they'd ... I mean I didn't think anything would really happen!" she gasped.

"Well she's not yelling for help, so let's leave them alone," I said. "I believe you said you could cook?"

There was a short, sharp barking sound and a long whine. Jill's face got so red I thought she might have a stroke. A sudden wail, clearly of joy, reverberated in the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

"Oh damn," moaned Jill and got her hands free to clamp them over her ears. "I don't think I can take this!" She closed her eyes. "That's my mother, Bob!"

I grinned. "Now you know how she felt when she knew what you and I were doing together."

Her eyes popped open, and her mouth went to form an o, but no sound came out. The wailing from down the hall died down slowly, and there was a short sobbing gasp as someone - a female - dragged in air after that long howling wail.

Her hands came away from her ears and her eyes steadied. She pushed herself loose and started taking off her jacket. She hung it over the back of a chair. She wrung her hands, but only a few times. Maybe she was warming them up. She stepped toward the refrigerator, reaching for it and then stopped with her hand on the handle, to turn and look over her shoulder at me.

"I did not sound like that last night!" she said sternly.

"Whatever you say, Darling," I said, smiling.

Zack was the first person to appear in the doorway of the kitchen. He was almost fully dressed, in jeans and a long sleeved checkered shirt, but had on only white socks on his feet.

"Something smells good," he said tentatively.

He was referring to the entire pound of bacon Jill had put in a skillet. It was unlikely that there were two molecules of air in the entire house that didn't have bacon odor clinging to them. She'd nuked potatoes in the microwave while the bacon cooked and was letting them cool so they wouldn't fall apart when she sliced them to fry after the bacon was done. Eggs sat on the counter waiting their turn and I was kneading biscuit dough while the oven pre-heated.

"We ... I mean I didn't know anybody was up."

Jill didn't turn around, but her shoulders stiffened as she giggled. Apparently she'd gotten over the shock of realizing her mother could have ... and pursue ... sexual desires, and was trying to adjust her world so that might fit into it.

"Pull up a chair," I said, knowing that Jill was going to be worthless for a while longer until she got control of herself. "We've only been here a few minutes."

Jill burst into a fit of giggles, almost laughing out loud.

"Be right back," said Zack, and he ducked back down the hall.

He was gone for a long time. He came back alone, looking exactly the same, except maybe he was a little embarrassed.

"Um ... I guess Lynne isn't up yet," he said. "I ... um ... tapped on her door ... but she didn't answer."

Jill turned around. I still can't describe the look that was on her face at that moment. There were elements of humor there, but there were some very negative things there as well. I saw a little disgust for sure, but couldn't tell why. She shoved the spatula in her hand at Zack.

"Don't let it burn," she snapped. Then she stalked down the hallway toward her mother's room.

"Jill!" Zack called out, but she ignored him.

"Let it go," I said. "When it comes to those two women, you just have to let them work things out."

"You're telling me," he sighed, and then looked embarrassed again. "How long have you really been here?" he asked.

"Way longer than will make Lynne happy," I said, grinning.

"Oh man," he sighed, looking down.

"She'll get over it," I said. "She's a strong woman."

"You got that right," he said. Then, with the brashness of youth, assuming everything really will work out, he approached the stove and started stirring the mess of bacon in the pan.

I don't actually know what went on between Jill and her mother that morning before breakfast. I do know that Jill actually went to her mother's room first and, not finding Lynne there, went to the bathroom and Jill's bedroom before she thought to look in the guest room, and the bathroom that serviced that room.

While Lynne was perfectly comfortable giving me the blow by blow (no pun intended) on what she and Zack did and talked about, the only thing she said about that morning was that Jill wouldn't let her hide in the bathroom.

And Jill wouldn't talk about it either, even in later years. Whatever they said to each other, it normalized things, because maybe half an hour later, just when the eggs were done, both women came into the kitchen like nothing was wrong and it was any other day. Zack, smart young man that he was, accepted that at face value and tried his best to act normal too. As for me? Well, I'd been through much worse. I think I actually FELT normal.

Breakfast was mundane in the extreme. The only thing Lynne actually addressed to Zack was about what remained to be seen around the farm, with a polite inquiry as to whether he was interested in seeing that. His response was also polite, not overstated, and affirmative. As it turned out, Jill wanted to go to town to do some Christmas shopping, so we weren't there that afternoon.

I don't think Lynne showed him anything. I checked. There were no footprints in the snow except for mine and Jill's. But both of them looked inordinately happy when we got home late that afternoon.

We had picked up pizza in town and after dropping Jill off at her house I went home to heat it up, figuring that Lynne had hosted meals pretty much exclusively since the kids got there, and that I should do my share. Jill said she'd be along with them, but wanted to "wrap some presents" first, which meant she didn't want me to see what she'd gotten me for Christmas.

They all showed up, all jolly and throwing snowballs at each other in my yard. It was a good thing I had a mud room, based on all the snow they dragged in with them.

Then it was pizza and hot chocolate and potato wedges I had put in the oven. They were that shake and bake stuff, but they weren't bad. "It's A Wonderful Life" was on TV that night, and we all watched it while the wind howled outside and I loaded up the wood stove. It was a nice evening.

When the movie was over Jill suggested cards. There was mild interest in a game of Hearts, and the cards were dealt out by Jill. Right in the middle of the hand, though, Lynne looked over at Zack and asked:

"So what, exactly, is a milf?"

It went dead silent for about five seconds, and then there was some gasping and giggling and eye rolling. Long story short, Zack finally leaned over and whispered in Lynne's ear. Her eyes got huge and she blushed bright red.

"That's awful!" she gasped.

"Probably so," agreed Zack, who was trying not to smile now. "It's rude, crude and socially unacceptable, but it pretty well nails down the concept."

Lynne wouldn't look at anybody, and the game went on, but it wasn't more than a couple of hands later that Lynne announced she was too tired to keep playing. The only reason we knew that was bull was because her cheeks got dark when she said it and she darted a look at Zack.

Jill, having a teasing streak, suggested that I had a guest bedroom too, and that if Zack didn't want to get out in the cold again he could just sleep there that night. Zack said somebody had to make sure Lynne got home all right, seeing as how slippery it was with fresh snow coming down.

Before they left, Lynne turned to me and said, "Would you make waffles in the morning?"

"Sure," I said. "You want regular or Belgian? I have strawberries in the freezer."

"Surprise us," she said. Then, to my astonishment, she winked at me. "Thank you," she said.

Jill collapsed on my chest, gasping for air.

"I do howl like a coyote!" she moaned into my ear.

"I love it," I panted back. "You have no idea how great that makes a guy feel."

"My mother is over there howling just like that," she sighed. "It feels so weird, but I'm also really happy for her."

"Me too," I said.

"And Zack is helpless around her," she said, sitting back up, only to lean over and press a nipple to my lips. "He's like a little puppy, following her around."

Twenty minutes later I was on top of her, trying to press her through the mattress and springs as my prick fountained into her.

"Mmmm," she hummed. "Nasty old Bob is trying to knock poor little me all up again. Just wait until I tell my mommy!"

I let my full weight down on her, pinning her to the bed. She was helpless and she knew it. I kept my prick firmly in her and licked her ear.

"And nasty young Zack is over there trying to knock up poor old Lynne right now," I whispered. "So she can't help you."

Jill stiffened under me, arching hard and lifting me a surprising amount. "No he's not!" she panted.

"Of course he is," I said. "It's what we horrible men do."

"My mother is on the pill ... or something," gasped Jill.

"Why on earth would you think that?" I asked. "She didn't know why Zack was coming here."

"But Dennis ..." she panted. I let up a little so she could breathe easier.

"According to what she told me about that, it wasn't planned," I said. "And she said she wasn't going out with him any more."

"But she's too old!" moaned Jill. "And she's my ... mother!"

"She became a mother by having you, didn't she?" I teased.

"Bob, this is no laughing matter," she said, pushing at my chest.

"Oh trust me," I said, letting my weight down on her again. "Zack's not laughing."

Well that actually got me a respite, as she pushed me off of her and bounced up off the bed, putting on my robe while she went to call her mother ... at almost midnight. She came back looking disgusted.

"Nobody answered. I know they're there."

"Ten minutes ago I wouldn't have answered either," I said, grinning.

The next morning, when Lynne and Zack arrived, Jill dragged her mother off into another part of the house while I dished out Belgian waffles, with strawberries on them, covered by whipped cream and sprinkled with powdered sugar. I put more strawberries and milk in the blender and made up strawberry milk to go with them.

The women came back. Jill looked confused, but Lynne looked like her old self again. Breakfast was great, except that it left all of us feeling bloated.

We dealt with that by taking some of the horses out to exercise them. They didn't mind the snow and the only hard part for us was getting the tack on them with bare hands. We probably only spent forty-five minutes out in the cold, and then were back, rubbing the horses down in the barn, which felt warm by comparison to the outside.

When I asked Lynne what she wanted for lunch, she said she and Zack were going to eat at her house. The way she said it was delivered in a voice that, to a stranger, would have seemed like it was only imparting information about where two people were going to take a meal. To Jill and me, of course, it meant much more, but she didn't blush or get nervous about it.

I think that was the moment where Lynne finally just accepted that something new was happening in her life, and that was the way it was going to be for a while. After that, all four of us got together every day for a while, and usually for one meal, but other than that, we spent time as if Zack were visiting Lynne and Jill was visiting me.

The rest of the break was like that. Even on Christmas Day we had breakfast and opened presents at Lynne's, but after a morning spent in quiet domesticity, and Christmas Dinner, Jill and I returned to what I thought of now as our house, both to be together ourselves, and to give Lynne and Zack time to do whatever they wanted to do.

And, as it turned out, what they wanted to do was pretty much what Jill and I wanted to do. Lynne and I were making up for lost time. Jill and Zack were just being young.

It was a perfect match.

Epilogue

The kids - even now I can't call them anything but kids - were only home for three weeks, but even after they went back there were a lot of weekends that they came home again. To get ready for mid terms and finals, they even brought the rest of the study group with them.

Somewhere along the way Jill and her mother decided that June was a good month for a wedding. I wasn't asked if I had anything else going in June. In truth, all I was doing then were the tax returns that extensions had been requested on. There weren't all that many. I had everybody who used my services pretty well trained by then. It doesn't take much for a man to get ready for a wedding anyway. Not in my case, anyway.

Zack, on the other hand, had a bit more of a challenge. That's because his parents objected when he broke the news to them that he'd proposed to a woman fourteen years older than he was, and only six years younger than his mother.

Lynne had warned him that would happen, and suggested that marriage wasn't really necessary. He was of a different opinion. It might have had something to do with the fact that she was just starting to show. She had that roundness of belly that didn't fit, and caused people to look at her and wonder.

Which was another thing I had gotten embroiled in. Jill called me one night all excited and confessed that she'd killed the rabbit, but that I was not, under any circumstances, allowed to tell her mother yet.

Which was fairly ironic since two days earlier Lynne had come over to the house for supper and confessed that she was pregnant, and made me swear not to tell Jill. She made me swear not to tell Zack either, as if I ever talked to him. He hadn't asked her to marry him yet, but that only lasted until spring break when he did it at supper one night. He got down on his knee and everything and asked Jill and me to be witnesses.

Lynne got all teary eyed and sniffly and said she needed to talk to him privately before she answered him, which wasn't quite what he had in mind, but didn't surprise either Jill or me. We hadn't expected her to just get all giggly and say yes right away.

Neither woman was showing at that point, and neither one knew about the other one's pregnancy. I was the official keeper of the secrets that spring, which didn't bother me, really.

They were gone for maybe fifteen minutes and when they came back there was just an electric feel to the air in the room. Zack was grinning, and Lynne had a confused sort of "I can't believe this is happening" look on her face that made it obvious she'd said yes.

Jill got all weepy and giggly, and then said she so happy, and that she had a secret, but couldn't keep it any more, and confessed that she was preggers.

Now I've heard of situations like this where the woman who had just accepted a proposal of marriage got all ticked off because her daughter (or whoever) tried to upstage her. But of course that wasn't the case then. That's because Lynne had her own secret to disclose and, within thirty seconds Zack and I were just grinning at each other while our women hugged and squealed and cried and laughed and generally had an emotional melt down.

A week later Zack's parents drove in unannounced from Nebraska. Mrs. Anderson basically sat in the kitchen and did the interrogation, while her husband had a look around the farm. I saw him walking through the orchard and went over to see who he was. When I found out, I showed him around. I didn't tell him I was part owner until I remembered that if this double wedding came off like planned, he'd be there and see me getting married to his new daughter-in-law's daughter, which might be said would make me his grandson-in-law, or something strange like that.

"She run all this by herself?" he asked. I could tell he was impressed.

"Her daughter and I help out all year, and she has some hired help too during harvest," I said. "She's still expanding the operation."

Long story short, Lynne passed muster with Mrs. Anderson, and the farm passed muster with Mr. Anderson, and they left a lot happier than they'd arrived.

The wedding planning really kicked into high gear then. Lynne wanted things to be perfect for her daughter, and Jill kept trying to save money and they snarled at each other a few times until I told them that I was paying for everything. Then it was Lynne who started putting on the brakes, as my intended got used to spending my money. Truth be told she calmed down mostly by the time the money actually started being spent.

The part I had the most trouble with, though, was when, without warning, Lynne and Jill, through some pre-arranged but secret sorority signal or something, would whoop, squeal, and raise their shirts up to stand, belly to belly, almost showing their breasts, while they compared how much each was showing. They didn't care who was around when they did it, either.

They argued about who was bigger of course, whereupon they turned to me or Zack, if he happened to be there, to display themselves demanding that one of us decide who was ahead. What made it hard on both Zack and me was that both women were braless about half the time, and shameless enough to flash a breast in an attempt to bribe the judge.

The wedding went off without a hitch. All things considered it was small and simple, with about sixty guests. The women were gorgeous and the sight of both of them walking arm in arm down the aisle to meet Zack and me, was enough to get even me all teary eyed. The fact that both were six months pregnant was impossible to hide, and neither had tried to do so in choosing a gown, which made the whole thing just a little crazy for most of those guests.

Zack was there for harvest that year, which was good, because both women had slowed down quite a bit, being heavy with child. The high school boys still ogled them, which was just shocking to Jill, but which Lynne laughed about. We had to hire more of them, but we got more picked and shipped, so it worked out well.

It also worked out well that Zack was there, because he was just enough older than the high schoolers that they looked up to him. By the end of the harvest they were all calling him "B.T." for some reason. I asked him what was up with that but he just got agitated and told me it was a stupid nickhame Lynne had given him and the boys had picked up on it. When he wouldn't tell me I asked Lynne, who laughed and said "It stands for Boy Toy, of course. I call him that all the time and I guess they just picked up on it."

The timing of the births wasn't good for Zack, who had promised his parents he'd go back and finish his last year of school. Jill was, in fact, taking a year off. I said I'd do double duty in the labor and delivery rooms if he couldn't get back for the birth. Lynne made him promise he wouldn't speed by saying that if she thought he would, she just wasn't going to tell him when she went into labor. That got his attention.

Lynne's due date was actually a week before Jill's, which Jill lorded over her mother mercilessly, saying that Zack's nefarious plan must have worked the very first night he stayed in Lynne's house, and preening, saying "I was a good girl with Bob!"

Lynne knew what a load of crap that was, of course, but I think secretly she relished the fact that she was going to have her baby first.

Which is why, when her due date came and went, and nothing happened, she was irritable. A week later she was hard to be around. And a week after that when both women were overdue and Jill's water broke, the doctor, who had both women as patients, simply called in some help and induced labor in Lynne.

I called Zack and reminded him to take his time, and that he had plenty of it.

Two hours later, fully an hour before Zack walked in, Lynne practically squirted out a nine pound seven ounce little boy. Once he got started he couldn't wait to see the big, wide world.

Fourteen hours after that my poor bedraggled Jill cursed me for the third time but gave one more push and our daughter was born. Jill's mood improved significantly almost immediately as the baby was brought and laid on her chest.

Since Jill's water had broken around ten at night, even with the time differential, both babies were born on the same day. The uproar in the little hospital was significant, and they even made the front page of the local paper.

All in all, it took Jill seven more years to get her degree. She did about half of it online, and at one point told me the only reason she was doing it at all was because her father had been so intent that she go to college and get a degree.

We expanded the orchard onto my land, and now our families each own a fifty percent share of the business. Jill still climbs around in the trees like a monkey, which amuses our three children no end as they compete with her, trying to climb higher. She ignores them, except to tell them how to properly prune an apple branch, of course.

Lynne had three more children. She told me one time that when they'd had Jill, it had been difficult and a strain on her. But having babies when she was financially secure was a whole different matter and she loved being a mom.

So between the four of us we have seven full time apple pickers, at least until they go off to college. They all act like one big happy family, and our kids sleep at their house as often as theirs sleep at ours.

Me? I'm almost sixty now. Jill keeps teasing me about the white hair that's creeping into my temples and beard. She spends extra time pulling at the hairs around my penis, as she sucks it all the way down into her throat and her nose presses into those hairs. She hasn't found a white one down there yet.

I'm not surprised. I might be almost sixty, but I'm in better shape than I ever was at forty.

Hard work, love, and a house full of kids will do that to you, I guess.

The End

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