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It had been almost twenty years since winning the state lottery and I was still being hounded, especially after my wife’s death had briefly put my name back in the news. So I explained why to my k**s, sold the house and vanished for six months before buying a piece of property I had had my eye on for several years. That was five years ago. That was five years before she walked back into my life. Age was now wandering at the edge of the forest of doubt where youth had once rushed in.
It was seventy miles from where my wife and I had raised our family, from where I had lived half my life raising three k**s. It was thirty acres of exalting excitement, imagination inducement, absolving anonymity. It was thirty acres square, still zoned agriculture.
The original farmhouse sat eight hundred feet back off the main highway facing due south. It was an old highway, one for the history books. But the interstate twelve miles to the south always whittled the heavy traffic away for several years until of late as the crawling suburban creep brought a s**ttering of unwanted work-day rush hour traffic. The old farmhouse was a two and a half story affair complete with a widows-walk up on its flat roof. It had a large walk around porch on its south and west walls with the front door jutting out halfway down on the west side but facing south. The porch was large with columns and gentle sloping tin and tar roof. The house was large with a twenty foot square bedroom downstairs and four near equally sized bedrooms upstairs. I had chosen to sleep in the second story southwestern bedroom my first year at the property. It had two windows facing west and two facing south. Gentle summer rains, with all windows opened wide, sang a siren’s songs of c***dhood memories to me as I fell off to sleep with the pitter patter of rain drops on that old tin roof.
Though it was of 1800’s vintage, it was a good house and had been well taken care of. I had drawn up plans and set about having a new house raised about three hundred feet east of it. It was a thirty by sixty ranch which had earth bermed up on three sides with a cedar log front all situated facing southeast. Running a line due east from the farmhouse’s south wall, the new home’s north wall stood perpendicular to it.
After completion of all construction, including a large unattached twenty-two deep by thirty-two wide three car garage complete with utility shed, I had the original drive, that drove straight in allowing the house to be viewed from the highway, plowed and planted, replacing it with serpentine brick pavement that entered from the highway further west before ending in a big circle drive behind the house. In the middle of the circle was planted a 300 foot deep well and its original large block limestone pump house. It supplied fresh water for both houses. There were at least a dozen large oaks and shagbark hickory trees that yet remained in the circle despite all the damage that had occurred at the building and berming the new one. It was largely impossible for one house to spy the other unobstructed.
Thankfully, twenty of the thirty acres were equally wooded. Roughly three acres had been cleared for the buildings both old and new. Along the northern rim of the property, five acres were farmed. The new serpentine drive had taken another acre leaving one acre unaccounted for.
At first I thought one of the k**s and their family could stay in the new house when visiting. That way it was sort of like a mini-getaway for them with having grandpa’s weird hours and mannerism stifling their own. But they came rarely and never for long. So I told them I was going to rent it out to help pay for some of the bills.
I had never owned a piece of property before which I intended in renting out. Still being outside the zone of development and factory work, I didn’t know what to expect in the way of applicants. Farmhands needed for planting and harvest were always looking for a place but usually they didn’t need something as nice as what was being offered or at the price being advertised. And though there was a small college in the neighboring town, I didn’t really expect much response from there either.
The summer came and went. Fall was now in full bloom with its hot one day, chilly the next all tempered with much needed rain plucking one leaf after another of my slowly denuding forest cover. It was Wednesday, hump day as now referred to when the gray Toyota pulled slowly back behind the house. I had installed a sensor at the end of the drive which rang an old gas station bell letting me know I had company.
“Is this the place with a house for rent,” the young blonde girl asked upon seeing me step out from the back door.
“That would be me. But not this big old house. It’s the one over there,” I said pointing down the lane.
She was young. I would have guessed her at being eighteen but something told me she was more like twenty-eight. kaçak bahis She had a common yet pretty face. Full cheeks, comforting smile and she had a quiet way about her which was unassuming and completely disarming. No one would mistake her for a marathon runner. Still, she wasn’t carrying any extra baggage other than a well rounded rump and two healthy looking bumps on her chest. Straight blonde hair falling just across the top of her shoulders and pale white skin that apparently hadn’t seen much of the summer’s sun.
“It’s all new. But its not your typical house as it has dirt bermed around it so you only have the one side open. Its got nice windows, cool in the summer heat and because this is the first winter it will see, I’m sure it will be nice and comfy when the winter winds begin to blow. Would you like to look at it?”
“Sure,” a soft, quiet, some would say reserved voice replied.
“Is it just you or do you have a family? It’s not a big place. I had built thinking my k**s might want to come stay occasionally but I guess they’re at that point in life where they’re just too busy get down here as often as I had hoped. So, I suppose if you like and want to give it a go, you’ll be the first to occupy her. By the way, everyone calls me Ted.”
The young girl smiled then as if it pained her offered, “I’m Jessica. People usually call me Jessie.”
I watched as the short black skirt with a worn ivory colored satin blouse surveyed the house. I sensed her reluctance at having no windows on three sides of the house but the day was sunny and the southeast facing windows were working their magic. Regardless of what others thought, I was much pleased it.
“Well I have to confess, this is a bit further out of town than I imagined and a bit back off the road. I imagine its very quiet out here,” she commented without looking at me.
“Oh, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I lived on a busy state highway for 30 yrs with the interstate only a half mile away. This is heaven for me now. But I could see where a young lady like yourself might have second thoughts at its remoteness.”
She pulled back a corner of her hair and looped it behind her ear, turning to look at me as she spoke, “No. Not at all. I was raised on a farm in Nebraska. I hate a lot of traffic and people everywhere. I’m attending Rayford and even that sort of makes me feel uncomfortable. It’s not a big school, as you probably know, but I guess I’m just a country girl at heart and miss what I have at home.”
“Your parents are farmers?” I asked.
“Yes. My brothers, both older than me, are doing most of the work now. Daddy’s got a little over four thousand acres now and still stays busy but he’s slowing down. He wasn’t really happy with me leaving to go out of state to go to school but sometimes you have spread your wings.”
“You’re not just a pretty face, are you little lady?” I smiled at her, beginning to change my first assessment of her. “Well, this isn’t exactly a farm any more. All the barns have been torn down and these blasted houses keep popping up all over the place instead of miles and miles of uninterrupted corn, cattle, wheat and bean fields. If you’re a horse lover, there’s Rice’s Stables just a few miles south. I’ll put in a good word for you with Marvin and Shirley. They’re always complaining about people boarding their horses there and then never coming to ride them.”
I could tell that had sealed the deal for her. Her body seemed to relax. She had a more casual, unconcerned way settle over her as one hip slouched over to one side as she played with her hair, giving me a shy smile before saying she’d take it.
At first I didn’t see much of Jessie. I suppose school kept her busy. She was up early and home late. Weekends sometimes were for football. Sunday’s were for church. And she had taken me up on my offer to introduce her to Marvin and Shirley. From their report she would make it over to them once or twice a week to ride either out on the farm or inside in the arena. They were thankful for her help and had said they started paying her a little something for all she did for them while she was there.
And that was the way it went until the first snows began blowing. The tree, even without their leaves now, largely kept the drive open. I had purchased a mower that summer, complete with a blade attachment for the front and a twin fan blower for the rear. I liked my solitude but I also liked not being held captive. And now there was a renter which needed to go to school every morning.
I couldn’t have asked for a better renter. She was always a day ahead of paying me rent. And occasionally would have me over when she wanted to cook something for more than just herself. It wasn’t difficult to tell she had been raised on a farm. She knew how to cook even though it wasn’t anything fancy. She kept the house clean. Drank a beer with her grilled burgers and wine with steaks. There was only kaçak iddaa one thing that I began to worry about. I was beginning to fall for her.
Though I hadn’t asked and she hadn’t volunteered any specifics, I had come to the conclusion that having worked the farm for two years after high school while attending a nearby junior college, that Jessica was only just old enough to buy hard liquor. I, on the other hand, had finally applied for my long overdue social security. Nearly fifty years her senior, Jessie had never made me feel like age was a barrier.
We had gotten into the routine of having supper together at least once a week, sometimes more. About once a month I would drive north to visit the grandk**s. While there I made it a point to do grocery runs. Jessie seemed to look forward to my return and what I was going to introduce her to next. I guess Nebraska farm life didn’t have much in the way of wide ranging cuisine offerings. Personally, I had an affinity for Chicago style deep dish pizza and just about anything Mexican.
“Ohhhhh, Ted! You’ve out done yourself this time, ” Jessie enthusiastically commented as she quickly put another spoonful in her beautiful mouth.
“You like it? Not too hot for you?”
“Noooo! Perfect for a cold winter’s day.” She laughed. “I’ll have to cook this when I go home for Christmas. I guarantee you, my mother won’t even try it and my dad will take a spoonful and laugh but say ‘thanks but no thanks.’ I’m not sure about my brothers. They’ll eat just about anything but I know their girlfriends will think I’m an alien.”
I had grown quite fond of her laugh and the easy way she had about herself. I watched as she ate my tortilla soup with almost a c***d like glee. It was totally new for her and she seemed to gravitate to things that my own c***dren didn’t. Jessie was taking on a dimension I had never before entertained.
Helping me put everything away, drying dishes as I washed them, knowing where everything went in this cupboard or that, it finally happened. As I sat the last dish in the rack as she reached to take it to dry, our hands touched. Her giggling and carefree chatter suddenly stopped as she continued holding my hand as I held the plate.
I could divine no shock or repulsiveness in either her body language or her eyes. Then again, neither did she make a gesture indicating any of the emotions that were racing within me. She just curled her blonde hair behind her ear while a c***d like smile crept across her face.
Neither one of us were of the nature to presume. Though she had become more open and talkative over the last couple of month, she was still reserved and unassuming. I had done my level best not stare at her though I took increasing pleasure in doing so —especially when wearing certain articles of clothing. Today she wore a familiar green, deep v-neck lamb’s wool sweater along with boot cut jeans. Heavy woolen socks skated across the wooden kitchen floor while her boots sat discarded by the back door.
Jessica put the last plate in pantry while I wiped off the counters and table before letting the wash water find its way down the drain. My mind was at war. She had never brought anybody home with her that I was ever aware of. She never talked of anyone special at school. It seemed going to school, doing schoolwork, riding horses and occasionally cooking for me was all she needed in her life at the moment. She exuded contentment. Nor was there a single high maintenance bone in her body. I confess, I had never met a sweeter, more selfless young lady in my life. Thus, as I turned around, expecting to be putting on her boots before thanking me for the meal and returning to her own residence, my breath was taken from me to see naked fingers and left arm clinging to the pantry curtain with two wide and bright blue eyes and a cautious yet mischievous smile.
Slowly she stepped out into the kitchen, shyly playing with her hair, wearing only her jeans and a light blue lacy bra. The color of her large areola matched her lips. I then noticed that her jeans had be unbuttoned and unzipped, riding on her hips. It was a sight that eclipsed everything I had ever encountered to that point in my life. I could tell she was teetering between hope and sudden regret.
“Wow!” I said with as much approval as I could muster. “Wow!” I heard myself say a second time.
Mostly through genetics but also through hard work and discipline throughout my life, I knew that if you chopped my balding head off along with its white goatee, my body could pass for a man easily half my age. And as with many, my thought life, my u*********s way of being, I had never become what I imaged people my age becoming.
“Jessica.” I said her name but it was the tone in which it was said that both questioned her intent while at the same time expressing my deep appreciation of having done it. “Wow!”
Jessica continued to remain silent as she slowly and güvenilir bahis without gaining much confidence, made her way of to me. Twirling her hair she just smiled, granting my eyes permission to wander.
Her breasts were ample and the skin of her naked stomach was smooth and spotless. Only two dark hairs could be witnessed poking out from her unbuttoned jeans. My eyes returned to hers, each questioning the other before closing and leaning in.
I had kissed many, many women in my life but only two of whom the earth had turned. It is one of those indescribable events. Though perhaps physical makeup of the lips played some part in it, that wasn’t the true distinguishing aspect of it. There is an unquantifiableness to that special kind of kiss which draws you in and tells you all is right in the world. And though Jessica was ten years younger than my youngest c***d, there was no mistaking what that kiss was a prelude to.
I suppose in romance novels and Hollywood movies, the script would have had me scooping Jessica up and in my arms and rushing headlong up the stairs like Rhett Butler had scooped up Miss Scarlett O’Hara and carried her up those red velvet stairs. However, Jessica was made of farm stock. I might have been able to get her over my shoulder but there was no way I could have made it up to the second floor bed which awaited us. So I pulled her in close to me, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back all the while looking deep within her lost blue eyes. Her flesh was as soft as a babies behind. And though I wanted to reach behind her and unfasten that lovely bra, I decided to wait as I drank in yet another kiss.
Half a century! Half a century ago since I had last kissed her like. Yet in a blink, in the closing of my eyes, I time traveled back to the time when desires ran deep and everything was new.
Jessica’s kiss was had an odd mixture to it. It was both perfect and yet unpracticed. Maybe Missy Farm Girl hadn’t done much of it before. Even now there remained a shy reserve about her, unprotected yet being freely offered. And though I felt like that boy of ages past, there was growing in me a mature hunger to ravish every pore of her body.
We made it to the top of the stair without further questioning. Hand in hand I had led her up the stairs and into my bedroom. She had yet to speak a word other than twice breathing deep sighs as I pulled away from kissing her full on the mouth. A lamb being led to its slaughter. How long had it been since I laid with a woman? Even longer, how long had I laid with a woman with this much passion surging within me?
Kissing did not end quickly. They included face palming, hair pulling, earlobe nibbling, necking sucking before lip locking once more as backs arched and breathing became labored. My hands could not get their fill of touching her skin. Soft as a flower petal, my hands were allowed to glide freely over any and all of her. Eventually I unfastened her bra as she slid of her pants before she took pleasure in unbuttoning my shirt and before sliding my own pants off on to the floor. We each smiled as we surveyed each others nakedness before pulling back the sheets and laying down on the bed.
Jessica’s breasts were like Tesla’s electrical coils, sending shock waves down through her body each time they were caressed and suckled. Her sighs and ooo’s were as a c***d’s first visit to a candy or toy store. It seemed as if each and every fleshy sensation were new to her, as if she were an angel suddenly incarnate experiencing touch and being touched.
Magic and miracles. I made love to Jessica that night over and over. God be praised for her patience and those little blue pills which were years expired. We slept little. Mostly we dozed off while making love, awaking to smile and laugh quietly as we each continued to enjoy where we had left off. By morning’s light, it was a slow grind, stopping repeatedly as we conversed, sharing little secrets and confessing that there was nothing either of us regretted. Her smile never left her face. There were times when she would just collapse and fall down beside me, clinging tightly as her body continued to quiver. Fifty years difference and it mattered not to either of us.
As winter winds grew colder and the snow deeper, I moved in to stay with Jessica rather than trying to heat my old drafty farmhouse. Of course I no longer charged rent. It was a delightful winter of watching her do homework. As often as it was needed, we cleared snow together while taking turns cooking for each other. We agreed not to inform her parents or my c***dren of our arrangement. Perhaps Marv and Shirley had gathered something was going on but they never said anything. As she took her last final in May, we said our good-byes many times before I watched her pull down the lane and drive out of sight.
I drove to Nebraska once that summer. She couldn’t stay long for fear that family would think something was up. But it was a fun and wild reunion with promises of returning that fall to stay with me once again. Oh how I no longer look at the end of summer with regret. Come my sweet Jessica. I long to have you to myself again.
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