Orchard Flower (version Alpha)
by Lubrican
Chapter : Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
Chapter Six
Jill was very unhappy, initially. Her mother clamped down on
her, insisting that romance came after college, instead of before
it. Lynne knew that wouldn't hold up, and that once Jill got
to school, where she could do what she wanted, she would most likely
find a boy to be interested in. So she also got her daughter
on birth control.
She didn't banish me from their house. Nor did she try to
impose some irrational rule about Jill not being allowed to come to my
house. She just sat us all down and explained that, while all
this interest in me as a man was normal ... even laudable in her
opinion ... it just wasn't timed right.
"So I can have sex with Bob when I graduate?" asked a very pragmatic
Jill.
Lynne was a bit startled at the boldness of her daughter's question,
but she was caught.
"I suppose you could ... yes."
"Except that you're going to have sex with him while I'm gone," said
Jill, who looked thoughtful, rather than upset about that idea.
"I didn't say that," said Lynne, but she couldn't suppress the rosy
tint that suddenly stained her cheeks.
"I know how you feel about him," said Jill carelessly. "Why
do you think I started thinking about him that way?"
"I never said I was thinking about him that way!" objected Lynne.
I just sat there, fascinated by what I was seeing.
"You didn't have to," said Jill. "I could see it in your face
when we talked about him. You like him a lot, Mom."
"Well ... what's not to like?" objected Lynne. "He's a
thoughtful, nice man."
"Yeah," said Jill. "Right." The sarcastic tone in
her voice caused her mother to look at her sharply and Jill's hands
came up to ward off a scolding. "He is that," she admitted in
a normal tone. "But one of the important parts of that is
that he's a man."
"I don't think that way about just any nice guy," said Lynne, frowning.
"Me either," said Jill. "I might be young, and I know I never
had a boyfriend, but I didn't choose Bob just because he was the only
man handy. I like him too, Mom."
"That's not the point!" barked Lynne. "The point is you need to go to
college and get your degree before you muck up your life with a man."
"I know that," said Jill just as stridently. "What I'm trying
to tell you is that I understand how you feel about him! It's
OK, Mom. I don't mind if you borrow him while I'm gone to
college."
"Borrow him?" Lynne's voice finally suggested she was losing
control. I didn't want this to turn into a shouting
match. I decided to say something.
"Don't I get a say in this?" I asked.
Both women just looked at me, frowning. Neither said a word.
"I'm too old for you," I said bravely, to Jill.
"I know that," she snapped. "That doesn't change the way I
feel about you."
"You'll meet some nice boy at college and fall in love with him," I
said.
"I know that too," she said firmly. "You're the one who
taught me how interesting men can be. I'm quite sure there
will be interesting men at college too. That also doesn't
change the way I feel about you."
"So what do you want then?" I asked, knowing how Lynne must be feeling.
"All I'm trying to say is that I understand how Mom can feel the same
way about you!" she almost yelled. "I have to go to the
bathroom now!" She got up and almost stomped out of the room.
I looked at Lynne, who stared at me. I shrugged and then
spoke.
"Well ... all things considered ... I think that went pretty well."
Lynne just rolled her eyes at me.
The harvest went very well, though there were some odd parts to
it. When all those high school boys showed up to pick apples,
Jill wore work shirts. I could see the impression of the bra
straps through the back of it. She also wore jeans every day,
instead of shorts. The boys looked anyway, of course, and
flirted with her mercilessly. She seemed to take it in
stride, being neither catty about it, or dismissive. She also
managed to rebuff them without causing any dissention. I was
both amazed and impressed.
The boys also stared at Lynne a lot. I understood that
perfectly. Obversly to her daughter, she didn't seem to
notice their attention.
The only sad thing was that Jill's birthday came right in the middle of
harvest, and we couldn't stop to celebrate it. She said she
didn't mind, but it was one of those momentous birthdays and I know
Lynne felt bad about it.
We shipped three truckloads that year. When the last one
rolled out of the yard, and Lynne had paid off the temporary help, the
three of us walked back to the house to have a piece of pecan
pie. The relief of being done with harvest was palpable and I
found myself holding hands with both of them.
Sitting at the table, as I took my first bite I glanced over at
Lynne. She was looking at me, her first bite on the tip of a
fork that was suspended between her plate and partly open
mouth. We just stared for a few seconds.
"Good grief, you two. Get a room!" moaned Jill.
Her mother looked over at her. "I beg your pardon?"
"Harvest is over. I know what you want. And if
you're silly enough not to take it, then I know what I want too."
"What are you talking about?" Lynne tried to bluff.
Jill took a bite of pie and then casually pointed the tines of the fork
at her mother's chest. Lynne looked down. Even in
the heat of summer, her nipples could be seen jutting through the bra
and shirt she was wearing.
"I know what it means when mine do that," said Jill calmly.
Lynne sat back in her chair and slumped.
"Where did my baby girl go?" she moaned.
"To college, Mom," said the girl in question. "In just three
weeks, in fact. Get used to it. Except that I'm not
gone yet and I'm just as glad that harvest is over as you are and just
as horny as you are too. I've been on the pill for over a
month now, so if you're not going to take advantage of the opportunity
..."
"I do not believe this!" moaned Lynne.
"You could just look at it like it's my birthday party," suggested
Jill, looking at me with eyes that were clearly lustful.
I think that first time, when Lynne saw Jill choose to deflower herself
on me, there was so much shock, mixed with so much relief that Jill was
actually interested in men after all, that it got Lynne through the
incident. She had definitely been turned on in the shower and
our lovemaking afterwards, in my bed, had been practically athletic as
suppressed passion exploded from both of us.
But now, after time to reflect on all this, Lynne just wasn't ready to
think about her 'baby girl' being sexually active ... not with me
anyway, and maybe not at all.
At the same time I suspect that older women are aware that all
eighteen-year-old girls are horny, and that they have to do something
to deal with it. At any rate, Lynne didn't seem to be
concerned that her daughter had an itch that needed to be scratched.
"I'm sending you to college for your
birthday," said Lynne archly. "And
it's quite possible to remedy your ... condition
... without having sex."
She stood up as if her knees were made of spring steel. Her
hand reached for my arm and my second bite of pecan pie flipped off the
fork to splat on the table.
"Would you get that please, Jill?" she said, her voice strained.
Then she was pulling me toward her bedroom.
I wanted to giggle as I heard Jill's dour voice softly say
"Do as I say, not as I do!" in a parody of her
mother's voice.
But there was no heat in her comment.
Lynne, it turned out, could have an orgasm simply by having her ski
jump nipples sucked. Or maybe she just had ten years of
sexual neglect to make up for. At any rate, once she got me
into the bedroom she was wild as she got us both stripped. We
were both still sweaty from work, but there was no shower this
time. Instead she seemed to crave the taste of the salt on my
skin. Her kisses were interrupted by tours of my body with
her lips. My prick was included, and got sucked briefly, but
lovingly before she moved on, until I was crazy with my own desire and
manhandled her onto her back. Her eyes went to my prick,
which was hanging an inch above her swollen pussy lips.
"I want that in me," she whispered.
I sagged, until the tip touched those engorged lips.
Her hand went to it and held it steady as I sagged some more.
She groaned as I slid in.
"I want this a lot," she gasped.
Maybe all men are pigs, because what I thought about for just a few
seconds was that another woman in the house had wanted this
too. I wondered what Jill was doing just
then. I later found out she had a hair brush with a
long, fat handle and, ever since feeling my prick in her, she'd been
fucking herself with it regularly. She'd learned to fuck with
one hand, while rubbing her clit with the other, and could get an
orgasm whenever she wanted it. At that time I would have
thought that since she'd only had a prick in her one time in her life,
she didn't yet know what she was missing all that much. I
would also find out, much later, that there were times when Jill
preferred that hairbrush to the real thing. It's not what you
have, but how you use it that really matters, as things turn out.
Anyway, I got back to thinking about the woman I was with, and
commenced to try to wring as many orgasms out of her as I could before
my hard-on wore out.
Lynne was very cooperative in bed. It didn't take her long to
figure out how much I loved knowing I'd made her cum and her natural
reaction was to tell me about it each time she reached
orgasm. She had a bit of a kinky potty mouth about it,
gasping about how my thick prick was making her pussy squirt, and
things like that. And, when she recognized that I was close,
she didn't tell me to stop, or last longer.
"You gonna cum, Bob?" she whined. "You gonna shoot that thing
off in my pussy? Mmmmm I can't wait to feel it,
Bob. I want to feel it! Let me feel it now!"
Her daughter was on the pill. I assumed she had started
taking them too, so it never occurred to me to pull
out. Instead, I went deep and flushed her full of what seemed
like a year's collection of sperm cells.
Jill was nowhere to be found when we finally walked out of the
bedroom. It turned out she'd gone for a ride on her
horse. There was a note on the table, tucked under my now
empty plate.
So Lynne took me back to the bedroom, where she demanded that I help
her strip the bed. She put the sweat-stained sheets in the
washer and then pulled me into the shower again.
This time was even better than the last time, even though her shower
was smaller than mine. Who'd have believed a man in his
forties could still get it up only twenty minutes after he'd
cum? And, since the bed hadn't been made yet, I experimented
with figuring out how to do it in the shower.
That was interesting. It used a heck of a lot of water,
because we could go a very long time standing up like that.
Eventually, though, I was able to give her another dose of my pent up
semen while our lips were welded together in a passionate kiss.
You've heard about the elephant in the room? It wasn't quite
like that at supper, when we were all together at that table
again. Everybody seemed perfectly happy pretending like that
sexual interlude hadn't happened. I had wanted to go on home,
but Lynne asked me to stay, saying she wouldn't know what to say to
Jill if they were alone.
Instead, Jill asked about the financial status of the farm, now that
the apples were gone. Lynne hadn't yet done the books so we
kind of rushed through supper. I followed them to the desk
and watched as Lynne caught the books up to date. We had to
use estimated weights, since the apples hadn't been officially weighed
yet, but even when she estimated low it looked like she'd make a
substantial profit that year.
They say time flies when you're having fun. And Lynne and I
were having fun, now that she'd gotten used to the idea that she could
have a man in her life - intimately - and it wouldn't ruin her
relationship with her daughter. Even so, we tended to wait as
long as possible, until we just couldn't stand it, which meant we only
had sex maybe twice a week. Sometimes she'd come to my
house. My impression that watching me deflower her daughter
... or watching her daughter deflower herself on me ... had gotten her
going was confirmed. Twice, when she dropped in to see me,
she pulled me to the barn, and got her ashes hauled there, on the same
bench Jill and I had used. Or maybe she was marking
her territory or something. In any case, I left blankets all
around the place, because when the mood struck her, she wanted it then
and there, wherever there was. On the other hand, whenever it
was at her house, she always took me to her bed.
And Jill seemed to cope rather well. She still came around,
but she didn't throw herself at me. I can't say she didn't
tease me at all. I remember three times in particular when
she said she had to go home and put her arms around my neck and kissed
me before she left. Those were sizzling kisses. She
gave me another one of those just before she got in the car so Lynne
could drive her to college. That one was right in front of
her mother, and it was obviously not just a friendly little "see you
later and thanks for everything" kiss.
Not to be outdone, Lynne got out of the car and kissed me goodbye
herself.
With both her hands on my ass.
A writer acquaintance of mine says that this is where an epilogue
should logically go, but there's no real transition point in my story
to separate it, so I'll just tell you what happened.
Jill did just fine in college. She was a smart girl to begin
with, and living on a farm had taught her the kind of self discipline
that comes in handy when you need to study instead of party.
For her mother and me it went a little less smoothly, depending on how
you look at things. We were like teenagers ourselves, and
with Jill gone and nobody else to see us we did some goofy things.
Like for instance there was the time that Lynne got on Jill's
horse and rode over to my place wearing only a wig she made
herself out of yarn. She introduced herself to me as Lady
Godiva. I was on top of her in the barn, just fucking her
like crazy when Dennis, the rural route mail man tried to deliver a
package to me. We heard him yelling my name and went
still. Thankfully he just left it on the porch, instead of
coming into the barn.
Not to be outdone, I got one of those plastic swimming pools that are
for kids and filled it up. She was due to come to my house
that night and I was waiting in it, naked, when she got there.
"Wanna go skinny dipping?" I asked, trying to affect a cultured voice.
She did, as it turned out, want to go skinny dipping. She
also wanted to see what it was like in Jill's tree house, and on the
tractor. As I said, she was very inventive.
It was all fun and games for us. We were able to let
ourselves go as if we were young again. The only sadness was
that Jill had gotten a job at school and couldn't come home for
Thanksgiving, though she promised she'd be there for Christmas.
At our private Thanksgiving dinner I tried to cheer Lynne up by asking
her what she wanted for Christmas.
"I already have it," she said softly.
"Besides me," I joked.
Her look was very serious, though, and the grin faded from my face.
"I didn't ask you if I could have it," she said. "I should
have, but I got a little crazy and just ... um ... sort of took
it. Now I'm afraid you'll be mad."
"Anything I have is yours," I said. I was being
honest. She could have asked me for anything and I'd have
given it to her. I had never expected to fall in love again,
and I was on cloud nine most of the time.
"Even your sperm?" she asked quietly.
"Especially my sperm," I joked, leering at her.
She didn't smile.
"This is no laughing matter, Bob. I wish it were, but it's not."
She took a deep breath, let it out in a long sigh, and then took
another smaller lungful of air to speak.
"I'm pregnant, Bob."
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