Orchard Flower (version Alpha)
Chapter : Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
I admit that the first time I shot at a coyote I got off my horse to do
it. Jill had made me practice shooting on horseback, and on
the tractor too. I had carried the rifle on my back so often
that it no longer seemed odd to do it. But when I saw the
brown flash of movement off in the distance, I just wasn't willing to
explore it from up on the horse.
After I got down and spent five fruitless minutes trying to spot the
critter again, I almost gave up. Then he trotted out from
behind a bush I'd examined a dozen times, and just looked
around. He didn't suspect a thing, despite all the gunfire
that had gone on around the place in the last few weeks. I'd
hoped that just the noise of me learning how to shoot would convince
them to go live somewhere else. No such luck, though.
The kick surprised me completely. I hadn't even 'decided' to
pull the trigger. The first thing I thought of was that I
hadn't evaluated what was likely to be down range if I
missed. That was a bad thing and I felt stupid. As
I felt a stab of shame though, the brown body in the field of my sight
did an almost magical backwards somersault and landed flat on the
ground. Then it didn't move any more.
I was astonished.
It took me a few minutes to get to the body. I was so out of
it that I didn't pay any attention to how far it had been or any of
that. I just went to the body with the dreadful curiosity of
someone who thinks he has just killed something for the first time in
Hunting is a complicated endeavor. Aiming is easy, and
squeezing the trigger is simple too. It's what happens after
that that makes things complicated.
I stood, looking down at a shaggy, dusty, multi-colored
coyote. It's mouth was partly open and I could see its teeth
... perhaps the very teeth that had savaged that colt's leg.
At the same time I knew that up until a few minutes ago this had been a
living creature. I had assumed the role of God, deciding what
would live and what would die, and I didn't like that role. I
knew the poor thing lying at my feet had to die, because of the
priorities that existed in my world. But that
didn't mean I was proud of having killed it. It occurred to
me that I had learned this killing skill very well, considering that I
was successful on my very first shot off the practice range.
That made me feel good, except that my success had been the doom of
another living creature, which robbed me of that good
feeling. And the whole time all this was going on in my brain
I was hopped up on adrenaline and hyperventilating.
I thought about what to do with the body. Jill had told me
not to leave anything for the others to eat unless I wanted to use it
as bait and wait for them to come feed. I'd thought that was
cold then, and it felt even more distasteful now. I picked up the
carcass by the tail and tried to figure out how to put it on my
horse. The horse wasn't impressed. He had taken the
rifle shot calmly, but didn't like a coyote to be that close to him,
even if it was dead. In the end I put the body in a tree
until I could get on the horse, and just carried it by the tail.
Based on some strange urge that I still don't understand, I rode
through the apple orchard to show Jill what I'd done. She was
delighted, of course, and took the body from me, asking me if I wanted
to learn how to skin it. I declined, feeling sick at my
stomach. I said I had something to do and left her leaning
over the still warm body of my first kill, a knife in her right hand.
The next day I found the stiff skin of the coyote nailed to the side of
my barn. To be honest, I didn't quite know how to feel about
It only took me six months to resolve the coyote problem. By
then I had fourteen hides nailed up on the side of the barn and I no
longer felt guilty about killing them. There was a farm two
miles down the road where I got fresh eggs and I saw what coyotes had
done to some of her hens. It wasn't like they had nothing
else to eat. There was plenty of game around. They
just went for the easy stuff, which usually mean they went for what
While I played great white hunter, Lynne and Jill put a lot of work
into the orchard, taking it much more seriously than they ever had
before. Lynne studied the common problems, like apple scab
and aphids and such, and the ways that organic farmers dealt with
them. In the past there had been plenty of apples for all the
critters to share in. That changed when she got serious about
making a profit on them.
Jill put a lot of time into developing further markets and by the time
we started picking, instead of driving a pickup load of apples to the
farmer's market (something Jill had been dreaming of doing for years)
she had to settle for being ogled by the men who showed up in an
eighteen wheeler to pick up the six hundred crates of apples it had
almost killed us to pick and pack in a one-week period.
And those six hundred crates had come from only four acres of orchard.
Three of her customers called and said they'd want even more apples
next year. That was when she started talking about hiring
high school kids to help pick, and estimating we could ship three
truckloads if all went well.
In the off season, meaning when we weren't actually picking apples,
Jill and I still spent hours and hours together. I had gotten
good enough at shooting that we could have competitions. I
loved shooting in the summer time, because Jill usually wore halter
tops, or tank tops, and even sometimes a T shirt that was cut off short
so her stomach showed. I'd glue my eyes to her breasts,
waiting for that special jiggle they'd display when her rifle went
off. Shooting excited her too, and her nipples would get
hard. There were a number of times I suspected she wasn't
wearing a bra, but her breasts were so firm that it was hard to tell
unless a nipple popped up.
I had given up feeling guilty about lusting after her. She
paid no attention to me at all in the sense she was completely
comfortable around me. If she caught me staring at her she
might say "What?!" but always shrugged it off if I said "Nothing," or
something like "I was just LOOKING at you! Can't I even LOOK
And I had finally come to peace with the thought that Vicky would
probably have scolded me up one side and down the other for simply
arresting my social life, as far as women went. Still, it was
one thing to gaze fondly at this girl, or her mother, for that matter,
and have distinctly naughty thoughts about them. It was
another completely to translate those thoughts into actions.
Besides, I liked them both too much to screw things up if I did
something that made either of them uncomfortable around me.
In the years I had known her Jill had taught me things like welding,
most of what I knew about fixing the tractor, all about gardening and
things like that, while I had taught her woodcarving, and
sketching. They didn't have a suitable tree on their
property, so I had let her help me build her a tree house in an elm out
behind my house. In all the years I'd known her I'd never
known her to take any interest in boys. She never talked
about them to me, and never seemed frustrated about them or any of
that. And several times Lynne bemoaned the fact that her
daughter didn't have a boyfriend. She was around boys at
school. They just didn't impress her or something.
Of course I loved that part of things, in one sense, because I firmly
believed she was a virgin and that made my fantasies so much the
I'm not rambling here. I tell you all this because you really
need to understand where my mind was, at this time of my life, because
shortly before Jill's eighteenth birthday everything kind of went crazy.
It was a Saturday, and it was late July. There was an air of
anticipation in the air, but only part of that had to do with the apple
harvest. The trees were heavy with fruit, but it still needed
some time to get to the picking point. The other part of it
was that in the fall Jill would be going off to college. It
seemed like somehow that would change everything.
On this particular day I knew that Lynne was in town doing the weekly
shopping, and was looking for just the right birthday present for
Jill. She had asked me to distract Jill so that she wouldn't
want to go with her, and had assigned us the task of inspecting the
tops of the trees for signs of pests. We were concentrating
on the trees that had been the best producers the year
before. I used a ladder. Jill still just climbed
like a monkey.
I finished a tree and went looking for Jill. She had the list
of which trees were done and which still needed to be
inspected. I was walking under a tree when an apple whizzed
by my shoulder, missing me by inches. It hit the ground by my foot with
a thump. I looked up to see a grinning Jill standing in the
I only noticed the grin for a few seconds though, and the
"HEY! Watch it!" that came out of my mouth was purely
reflexive. That's because I was distracted rather quickly by things I
could see other than her grin. She was wearing one of those T
shirts that had been cut off above her belly button. Her
breasts ... her braless breasts by the way ... were pushing that shirt
out so that I had a clear view of the undersides of creamy looking
swells. She was also, for some obtuse reason, wearing a faded jeans
skirt that day, instead of the shorts she usually wore in the
summer. Looking up her tanned legs I saw white panties
clinging lovingly to a bubble butt and a pronounced mound of Venus.
I know. Panties don't cling lovingly to anything.
But if I were those panties I'd be clinging to her soft skin, and it
would be very lovingly!
"What are you looking at?" she popped off.
I had to lick my lips before I could speak. "Nothing."
"Liar!" she taunted. "You were looking up my skirt, you dirty
"I was not!" I lied weakly and tried to go on the offensive.
"And you should be wearing a bra too, young lady!"
I had blown it, exposing myself as being, in fact, a dirty old man.
"Mom never wears them," she said lightly. "And now I know you
were looking up my shirt too." She put the back of one hand
to her forehead in a theatrical way and looked up. "I feel so
violated!" she moaned.
"Sorry," I mumbled automatically. I finally looked
away. I worked on my muscles, which had kind of frozen up
when I gazed on all that loveliness, and started to walk away.
"Wait!" she said. "I was kidding!"
That made me look up again. This was a new Jill, one I had
never met. She was climbing down a few branches, and making
no effort to avoid letting me look at whatever I wanted to look at.
"I know you look at me," she said, when her bare feet were on a branch
that was even with my head. "I've seen you looking at me for
"Oh," I said, feeling foolish. All these years I'd thought
she was unaware of my oafish behavior.
"Don't look so guilty," she said, squatting down. Her skirt
lay on her thighs in the front, and hung down in the back.
With her knees spread like that the front of her panties were on
display right in front of my face. I almost thought she was
aware of what she was doing. "I like it."
"What?" My eyes popped up to her face. She had
amber eyes, brown, but with flecks of yellow in them.
"It makes me feel good when you look at me like that."
"Like what?" I have no idea why I asked the
question. I was off balance and just making noises, I think.
"Like I'm a woman and you're a man who is interested."
Well that little revelation about unhinged me, but years of self
control sought to make another appearance.
"I'm way too old to be interested in a girl like you," I
said. "I shouldn't look, but I appreciate you cutting me some
"Why shouldn't you look? I like it. Mom likes it
when you look at her too."
"What?" I think my eyes might have bugged out a bit.
"We talk about you sometimes." She said it as if she'd said
something like "Apples get red when they ripen, you know."
"Of course. You're the only man in our life, for all intents
and purposes. Why wouldn't we talk about you? And
you make us both feel good ... like we're pretty, maybe."
I felt like I was in a dream, so I said something I'd probably say in a
"That's because you are both very pretty."
"Thank you, Sir," she said, grinning.
"Would you please close your legs?" I have no idea what part of my
brain thought to say that.
"Why?" She sounded actually curious.
"Because I can see your panties," I said.
She tilted her head and then giggled. "That reminds me of a
joke I heard a long time ago when I was in, like, the fourth grade or
She stood up and, like she had done it a hundred times before, reached
under her skirt and slid her panties down to her knees. She
had superb balance when she was in a tree - she was half monkey - and
she bent over to lift one foot. The panties dropped off that
foot and fell to the ankle of the foot that was still standing on the
branch. She reached for them, changed feet and stood up
wadding the white cloth into a small ball that fit in her hands.
Then she squatted again, with her knees spread.
"I fixed it," she said softly. "Now you can't see my panties
I felt the blood rushing from my face, headed south, no doubt, and had
the errant thought that in a few seconds I was going to have a truly
magnificent erection, except that I was also going to pass
out. Dimly, as if from a great distance, I heard Jill's soft
voice still speaking.
"Is that better? I like it when you look at me like that too."
You've heard of alcoholic blackouts, where somebody does things they
can't remember later. What happened next was exactly like
that ... only completely different.
I "awoke" to find my nose buried in soft teenage pussy hair and my lips
sucking at her feminine nectar. My tongue was drilling
against her clitty and I was making a lot of noise. While I
could not, for the life of me, remember deciding to shove my face
between her legs, I was aware that she wasn't unhappy that I had done
so. She was cursing softly, using words I'd never heard her
lips utter, but both of her hands were on the top back of my head and
her legs were still spread wide. I felt her push against me
and realized she was balanced, leaning into my mouth, and that I was
actually holding her on the branch.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, I knew it would be good," she
moaned. "I knew it, oh please don't stop, Bob, oh fuck if you
keep doing that I'm gonna cum!"
If all this seems sudden to you, reading this, just try to imagine what
it was like for me. This was a completely new Jill, a part of
her that was obviously there, but that I'd never seen, despite all that
time we spent together. I was acting on autopilot, which is
the only reason I ended up doing what I was doing. It's hard
I do remember vaguely thinking "Well ... in for a penny, in for a
pound," and that I might end up in the back of a police car for this,
but I was going to know I had given her a good time.
I circled her clit with my lips. Not having seen it yet, I
was working by feel alone. It had been ten years since I'd
done this to Vicky, and she had just been getting comfortable with it,
having grown up in a conservative family where something like this
wasn't even thought of, much less practiced. So I knew I
wasn't all that good at it. Then again, I was also sure Jill
had never had this done to her before, so she wouldn't know the
Her clit wasn't huge, but I was able to nip at it with my teeth and
squeeze it gently between them as I sucked.
"Oh fuck yes!" she gasped, and one of her hands left my head as she leaned
too hard and pushed me back. Just at the crucial moment I had
to decide whether to keep pushing with my face, or catch her as she
fell. She wouldn't remember that orgasm if she had a
concussion, so I opted for putting my hands on her waist and stepping
"Noooo," she whined as she tried to hold herself up in the tree with
"Let go," I ordered.
She did and her body slid down mine. We didn't mow the grass
under the trees, because the limbs hung too low, and there was a soft
green blanket probably fourteen inches thick. I laid her back
on it, flipped the front of her skirt up and dove back in.
When she figured out what I was doing her legs sprang open again and
her hands came back.
"Yesssss," she hissed.
I couldn't fuck her, but I could eat the heck out of that sweet
pussy. I made up for lack of experience with an almost
frantic gusto, probing her pussy with my tongue, and licking and
sucking her clit over and over again. I didn't seem to be
able to get her as close as I had that one time, even when I used my
teeth in the same way. I found the answer by accident as my
face slid in her slippery juices and my chin, with the barest hint of
stubble on it, scraped over her clit.
"Ohhh!" she gasped.
Damned if I didn't give her her first orgasm with my chin, just
pressing it hard against her clit and making little chewing motions.
I had a vague memory that things were really sensitive down there after
an orgasm. I realized I should probably stop rubbing her
clitty raw, but I didn't want this to end. So I crawled up to
Of course, along the way, I ran into breasts that were no longer
covered by half a T shirt, and just had to linger there and get to know
a couple of stiff, pink nipples. While I was doing that she
must have found the shirt constrictive or something, because she pulled
it over her head and lay, half naked, holding my head to her breasts.
Then I had to kiss her. Don't ask me why, but it was important to
me. My face was still wet from eating her pussy, but she
didn't seem to mind. My moisturized lips tenderly touched hers.
Jill's response was to mold her lips against mine and kiss me
back. The tension in her lips suggested she hadn't done this
too much either. By softening my lips and using them to "eat"
hers, I taught her to relax. Within seconds my tongue was
teasing her teeth. She was a quick learner, she was.
Then her hand slid to the front of my pants, where all that blood went
that had left my brain, and which I blamed for my "blackout." Her hand
found the long lump of my rock hard penis and squeezed it as she
explored this new and fascinating thing that she was experiencing.
That got my attention in a very sobering way, because I wanted nothing
more than to use what she was squeezing for its intended purpose.
But I knew I couldn't.
"Oh man Jill, we have to stop this!" I finally managed to say. "Girlie
girl, if you were older than you are ..." I panted as she
squeezed hard. "We can't!" I gasped. "Listen
here. I'm going to make you cum one more time and then I'm
going someplace else. Afterwards, we both have to forget this ever
Paying no attention to the defiant look on Jill's rebellious face, I
got back down between her sweet thighs and wildly attacked the young
pussy between her legs. My mouth kissed, my lips sucked, and my
flicking tongue licked. I nibbled her clitty and her hips
This sweet, pleasurable chore didn't take as long as I thought it
would. After a mere five minutes of furious pussy consumption, I heard
the girl cry out as another orgasm grabbed hold of her. Her body jerked
against my face and sprayed me with feminine cum.
Still, I continued licking, sticking my tongue as deep as I could into
her pussy hole and slurping up all her juices. Her whines and
whimpers were such music to my ears.
It was too much. I had to do something. I was
determined not to fuck her, but I had to do something. I
elected to jerk off right then and there. I rolled over,
shoved my pants down, and gripped my little friend.
I was so engrossed in jerking the cum out of my balls that I didn't see
her sit up and examine what I was doing. She apparently
wanted to help, because her hand came to stop mine and then push it
away, to be replaced by hers.
I was pretty sure Jill didn't really know what to do. Her
slim, long fingers were wrapped around my thick, pulsating
cockshaft! But did she know how to give a hand job?
Part of me hoped she did, but part of me wanted her to never have
touched a cock before.
The answer was: 'apparently not'. She made several clumsy attempts at
fondling and groping. She squeezed my semen-filled testicles
experimentally. She pulled and tugged on my pubic hair. It was all
quite fun, but not very satisfying.
I'd already blown it - no pun intended - and I supposed it couldn't be
so terrible if I adopted the idea that right now was as good a time as
any other for this girl to learn about hand jobs and what they
produced. Using one of my hands, I guided Jill's hand in the
time honored movements that induced semen to squirt from a penis.
Inexperienced she might be, but she caught on to the manual mechanics
of pumping a cock in a very short time. At first, she timidly stroked
with slow movements. Gaining confidence, she increased the tempo.
I knew I couldn't last long before blowing my wad. I'd been hard and
ready for quite a while. My mouth was still full of the delicious taste
of young pussy flesh. My nose was still filled with the intoxicating
scent of musky turned-on girl juice.
With just a few more strokes of her soft hand my swollen erection
decided it was time to jump on the orgasm bandwagon.
I should have warned her, but I was too involved in the anticipation
and the feel of that first pressurized stream rocketing through my
prick. Hot, creamy cum shot out and struck Jill's chin. She
jerked, but didn't let go. Her jerk changed the
trajectory of the next spurt and it hit her right nipple. Then she got
it aimed upward and a two foot arc of white landed on the grass to my
right. She continued to jerk until I stopped her when it got
She finally spoke actual words for the first time since I had lost
control and stepped blithely off the cliff.
"Oh no!" she suddenly moaned. "It's shrinking! I
thought it was supposed to stay hard so you could ... you know ... do
it with me."
I took some really deep breaths, trying to settle down.
"Jill, sweetie," I finally answered. "This is what happens to a man's
cock after he's had a good hand job and cum all over the place! And I'm
not going to do it with you. You are my best friend's too-young
daughter! Now girl, get dressed and run on home. I shouldn't have done
this in the first place. Please just forget it
happened. Now, go on home. We will never ever do
anything like this again!"
Jill lowered her head and smiled demurely, "We might do it again," she
said coyly. "I think anything is possible, don't you agree?"
"No I don't!" I answered adamantly. "It's not possible for this to
happen again. Besides, you're not interested in this kind of
thing. You don't even have a boyfriend!"
"I've always been interested in it," she said calmly. "Just
not with the boys my friends at school are interested in it
with." She stood up, scooping my cum off of her breast and
examining it closely. "I was pretty sure it had to be fun,
but I had no idea it would be that much fun. And I'm almost
eighteen. I'm pretty sure this is going to happen again,
Bob." She rubbed spermy fingers together and then, to my
astonishment, dropped them to her puffy vulva and rubbed the sperm into
her pussy lips. "Mmmmmm."
"Stop that!" I snapped. "In there is the last place you want
my sperm, young lady!"
"Feels good to me," she sighed. Her rubbing went on
"Will it feel good if your belly swells up with a baby in it?
Don't be an idiot, Jill."
"I'm not an idiot," she complained, finally pulling her fingers away
from her pussy lips. "I just know what I like. I
liked that, Bob. I liked it a lot."
"This is wrong, sweetheart," I moaned. "Remember that," I
said. "Because it's not going to happen again. Your mother
would take a shotgun to me if she found out I even touched you!"
As I turned my back and walked away from the promise of further taboo
temptation, I heard Jill's voice defiantly declare, "Don't bet on it,
Bob. You might lose!"
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