The Adult Story Hub

Postings to free sites is permitted, all rights reserved. Copyright (c) 2004 Janna Leonard
By Janna Leonard (sensuscribe3@yahoo.com)
Author's note: There's a lot of sexual things that women do that aren't usually mentioned in stories, unless the story focuses on that particular fetish, like watersports. However, I've included a few in this story, nothing major, but when people love each other, they do certain things. Everybody pees in the shower, right?

Likewise asses, everybody has one and some people like having them played with and licked, touched, penetrated....it's part of love play. Sex should be FUN, and that's part of it. Lastly, women's feet are pretty, why else would they spend the money on ankle bracelets and toe rings if they didn't want to bring attention to them? Plus the thousands of dollars spent each week on nail polish... For some there is a direct (and I mean direct!) connection between a woman's toes and her plumbing, causing giant orgasms. Personally speaking, when I have one like that I can feel it in my kneecaps 2 days later. Unexplainable perhaps, but true.

The story that follows contains some of these things and if that offends your warped sense of morality, please read no further. The two women in the story are average women doing what average women do, no more, no less. Yes, I've had my shirt pulled down at 70 miles an hour, and no, I wasn't wearing a bra. Enjoy, Janna :)


We all have the image of ourselves that we project to the world, whether it be good, bad or indifferent, the one that we allow others to see. The projected self doesn't allow the others in, to know our innermost secrets and desires. Sometimes we think that if the world and our friends knew what we were really thinking or dreaming, they would think less of us. In some cases, I found that to be true.

The outer me was a dutiful daughter, carrying on after my father's death, raising the horses that had been our family's living for several generations. The inner me was crying for relief, someone to understand me, help me know myself, to love me and share my wildest thoughts and dreams, the things I hadn't ever dared speak aloud. I had tried, but the infrequent visits to the bars and sometimes bedrooms left me feeling dirty and empty, ashamed of my desires.

Home was the High Plains, that plateau of ground between the Red River valley and the Badlands of North Dakota, a featureless but beautiful landscape. Harsh in winter and summer alike, it gave no quarter to the unprepared or weak. Somewhere near the middle was the town of Chandler, a few miles from the Interstate and a century behind in its thinking. I lived 6 miles north of town on a gravel road, in the farm house where I was born. Bismarck was 100 miles away in one direction, Fargo 100 miles in the other.

My Mother died when I was very young, my only memories are of caring hands and faint perfume. Pop was a pragmatic soul, when he realized that he wasn't going to have sons to help on the farm, he taught me what he knew. How to hunt and shoot, how to ride, how to protect myself. I can take a deer at 250 yards, survive a blizzard and drive a tractor in a straight line, my problem lies with people.

Protected from everything except my emotions, those forbidden thoughts that kept surfacing in my head, those itchy feelings in my belly and breasts, the videos I played in my head. Guys have always been friends, I get along better with most guys than anyone I know. They're easy to talk to, joke with and be around.

It's the girls I get tongue-tied over, especially the average looking ones like me. Raised on a farm, I never lacked for food or exercise, and my body shows it. 5'10" and 150 pounds, I've been teased about my ample ass and childbearing hips. My breasts are firm and bullet shaped, the dark nipples puffy and prominent. I wear my hair just below shoulder length, a medium brown like everywhere else.


I prepared for the storm like I always did, closing the shutters on the upstairs windows and securing the pasture gate. I'd seen it building since early afternoon in the west and the thunder was audible in the distance as I finished.

I saw the shape walking down the road a few minutes later, the silhouette of the back pack and cap going north. Too far away for me to tell who or what it was, I knew they were lost. The road ended some 500 yards past my driveway, becoming a rutted track between the fields. I opened a beer and sat under the deep overhang of the porch, waiting.

It started to sprinkle, the main part of the storm still off to the west. The shape returned, jogging south on the road and turning into my drive. As it got closer I could see bare midriff and shorts, the white sneakers a blur as she ran toward the house. The rain began in earnest, the wind rising with it, hammering the drops on the tin roof of the porch.

100 yards away she slipped and fell, then got up and walked, head down in resignation, trudging toward me through the pouring rain. She reached the steps and climbed up, smiling with her hand out. Taking off her cap, she shook her hair and said "Hi, I'm Lisa Ferguson."

"Hi, Carolyn Schuler."

"It's a little wet out," she giggled.

"Come on in and dry off."

"I don't want to mess up your floor, you sure?"

"It's ok, come on in," I said, opening the door.

She stepped into the living room and took off her pack, leaning it against the wall. Soaked to the skin, she shivered as she took off her shirt, revealing a sports bra beneath. She had a pierced navel, the blue stone nestled in the dimple matching her eyes. Her shorts were muddy, the scratch on her knee still bleeding a little, her once white shoes filthy.

"Take off your shoes," I said.

"I don't want to bother you, if you have someplace I can change I'll be on my way as soon as it lets up."

"You aren't going anywhere soon, it's going to rain like this all night," I replied.

"What?!" she asked.

"Yep, it's only the end of May, it could still snow," I said.

"You're kidding!" she exclaimed, opening her pack. She pulled out a few items of clothing, most of which was as wet as what she was wearing.

"Shit!" she said disgustedly, "its ALL wet!"


"Have you eaten yet?" I asked.

"No, not since breakfast," she replied.

"I made stew for supper, the bathroom's right through there," I said pointing, "I'll get you something to wear and we can dry your things while we eat."

She took off her socks and walked to the bathroom with me behind her. She smelled like all hitchhikers do, the bland sour odor of too many hours between showers.

"Why don't you take a shower while you're in there, I'll get you a robe," I said.

"You sure?" she asked, looking at me dubiously.

"Positive, go ahead," I replied.

She closed the door and I imagined her body nude under the spray as I went to my bedroom and picked up an old robe. Long and fuzzy, it would keep her warm.

I tapped on the door and said "The robe is hanging on the door handle."

I heard a muffled "Ok" in reply as I walked away.

I heard the water stop after awhile and checked the stew, setting the table for two. She came out with her clothes in her hands and asked "Where should I put these?"

"Give them to me," I replied, holding out my hand. I opened the washer and dropped them in, then returned to the kitchen.

"Let's eat, we can wash later," I said with a smile.

My robe looked good on her, the tie accenting her slim waist and boyish hips. There was a tiny gold ball in her left nostril, almost invisible unless you knew where to look. She'd washed her hair and clipped it back, exposing her long neck. Pale-skinned with shoulder-length light brown hair and long eyelashes, she was beautifully feminine. I couldn't see her breasts, but I imagined them hanging free.

She sat back as she finished and said "That was good!"

"Thanks," I replied, "ready for dessert?...I have apple pie."

"Yes, please," she smiled.


After supper I piled the dishes in the sink and said "Let's get your things."

She dragged the pack to the utility room and began emptying it, throwing things in the washer. Black and pink lacy underwear, shorts, socks, T-shirts, another sports bra in black and a couple of white filmy things were dropped in and I started it up, asking her "Sure all the pockets are empty?"

She nodded and asked "Do you have any paper towels, the rest of the stuff is damp too."

"Bring it in the front room," I replied, reaching for the roll.

We sat on the couch and I watched her remove her things from the pack and dry them off. A small cosmetic bag, a couple of photo albums and a tiny jewelry box. Opening the box, she took out a gold band and slipped on her ring finger.

"You married?" I asked in a surprised voice.

"Yeah, kinda," she replied, busying herself with the albums.

Sensing she didn't want to talk about it, I didn't pry.

I laid a fire and lit it, listening to the rain beating on the roof in waves with the wind. I went to the kitchen and brought back two beers, handing her one.

"I'm not 21," she said guiltily, taking it from my hand.

"Who cares?" I replied, "there's no cops around."

She laughed and took a swallow, propping her feet up on the coffee table.

I couldn't help but notice her pretty long toes with their pink nails, the second toe of each foot a little longer than the rest.

She began looking through one of the albums, sipping from her bottle and gazing quietly at the pages. I scooted closer and said "Your family?"

"Mm-hm," she replied, turning it so I could see.

"That's my brother Stephen and me, there's my dog, that's Mom and Dad in front of the house, there's my two sisters," she said as she flipped the pages. There were a lot of pictures toward the end of the album of her and another girl, apparently taken over several years. The pair in swim suits at a lake about 10 years old, then other poses in different places at increasing ages, ending with the most recent, a shot of her and the girl with their arms around each other smiling at the camera.

"Another sister?" I asked.

"No, that's Lucy, she's my best friend," she replied.

"She didn't want to come with you?" I inquired.

"She couldn't, her family moved away," she replied, her voice husky.

I got up and went to the kitchen, bringing back the brandy bottle and two glasses.

"Here," I said, "this will warm you up."

She cradled the glass in her hands and took a sip, murmuring "Thanks."

"So where you headed?" I asked.

"Seattle," she replied.

"How did you end up here, I mean on this road?....it doesn't go anywhere," I chuckled.

"The last guy I caught a ride with said it was a shortcut," she told me.

"Some shortcut!" I scoffed.

"I think he wanted me to ride a little longer with him, he kept looking at my legs and stuff," she blushed.

"That's what men do," I smiled.

"I started to yell and he got scared I guess, and dumped me out. I didn't say anything, but I was as scared as he was," she said.

"You're lucky," I replied.

"Seattle is where Lucy lives," she said softly, her head down and her eyes brimming with tears. She closed the album and sat back, closing her eyes. I suddenly understood why she was going to Seattle and why she was wearing a wedding band. I was envious for a moment, thinking she was very fortunate to be so in love.

To break the mood I got up and said "Let's go swap loads, ok?" She followed and I put things in the dryer while she loaded the washer. After twisting the knobs, we returned to the living room and I poured us a refill.

She stared at her glass for awhile, then said "I'm going to be with her."

"I know," I said.

"We've been together for a long time, I miss her," she said.

I left her to cry silently, the tears dripping from her cheeks. I folded what was dry and returned to the living room, stacking it on the coffee table.

"Here you go," I said.

"Thanks," she said, "I didn't mean to unload all my emotional baggage on you," smiling up at me.

"No problem," I replied, "Pain shared is pain cut in half, I'm glad I was here."

"Well, I feel stupid now, dumping all my problems on you," she laughed.

"It's ok, really," I said, "but I have to get up and do chores in the morning, I've got horses to feed."

"I can crash right here," she said, indicating the couch.

"There's an empty room across the hall from me," I said, "it used to be mine, you're welcome to the bed in there."

"Thanks," she said getting up.

"Need something to sleep in?" I asked.

"I use a T-shirt," she replied, picking one from the pile on the coffee table.

She followed me up the stairs and I showed her my old room, complete with posters and stuffed animals on the bed.

"Bathroom is next door if you need it," I said, "G'nite."

"G'nite Carolyn," she smiled.

I took several deep breaths as I quietly closed my door, aware I was trembling. Desire, loneliness, fear, all the emotions of the past months surfaced at once. The need was almost overwhelming, my motions automatic.

I undressed quickly, shucking my jeans and shirt into the hamper, bra and sticky panties into the basket. I wrapped a towel around my hips and walked across the hall to shower, perversely hoping she'd peek out her door.

She didn't, and five minutes later I was back in my room, clean and damp. I laid down and relived the conversation with her, my fingers gently stroking alongside my clit. Mental images of her imagined body played through my mind, kindling a heat in my groin. Release came quickly, the tension spreading upward from my puss to make my nipples hard, the pressure within eased. I curled on my side and hugged my pillow, trying to sleep.


I woke up before the alarm went off, tired and sweaty. Untangling the sheets from my legs, I dressed and went down to make coffee. While it perked I went to the barn and pitched some hay and made sure the water fountain was full. I came back in the house and took a shower, dressing in shorts and top.

The day was dull and overcast with a slight drizzle and I hoped she would wake up soon, I wanted to know more about her and Lucy. What cements a relationship of that kind? Would I ever be as lucky? How did they meet, what did they do for fun, so many questions! I went upstairs to pee and see if she was awake, I was anxious to talk. Her door was ajar, and I couldn't resist peeking.

She was on her side, her left knee level with her hip with her left arm over her head. Her right leg was stretched out and I could see her T-shirt bunched around her hips. Taking a step closer, I looked between her legs. There were no panties to block my view of her sparsely furred sex, a smooth crease with two small petals of skin protruding from the bottom, near her anus. Dime sized, they were pinkish brown and dry with tiny wrinkles on the edges, one atop the other. The tiny puckered star of her anus was surrounded by downy hair, a tan dent between the globes of her small butt. I leaned closer, inhaling a musky scent I knew to be her. Gazing at her loveliness, I wondered if she had masturbated too, perhaps thinking of me.

Realizing where I was and what I was doing, I backed up and left the room quietly but quickly, in fear of being caught. I went to my dresser and slipped a panty liner into my underwear, knowing I'd need it before the day was over. I was into my second cup of coffee before my breathing slowed to normal.

The rain was coming down harder around eleven in the morning and she appeared in the doorway, rubbing her eyes.

"Hi, want coffee?" I said.

"Mmm-hmm, thank you," she replied. Still dressed in her T-shirt, I could see the points of her nipples tenting the fabric. Knowing she didn't have anything under it made me gulp my coffee, trying to think of something else.

"How did you sleep?" I asked.

"Wonderful, it's so quiet," she said.

"Sometimes at night I can hear the trucks on the Interstate," I said.

"I didn't hear a thing," she smiled.

"The last of your clothes are in the dryer and I washed your sneakers for you, they're hanging outside on the porch," I said.

"Thanks, you didn't have to do that," she replied.

She looked out the window at the rain, smiling with some memory or another as she sipped her coffee.

"Can I ask you some questions?" I ventured.

"Sure," she replied.

"When did you met Lucy?" I asked.

"At school, she was the new kid in third grade," she smiled.

"Did you become friends right away?" I asked.

"Yeah, we were hot and heavy into Barbies then, and she had a big collection....we used to trade one or two for a week at a time," she said.

"And then?" I asked.

"The usual, sleepovers and Brownies, sharing notes on homework, that stuff," she said.

"Mmm," I said, sipping coffee.

"Then when we were about 12 or 13 things started to get physical...our bodies went through some changes and we began to notice what they were capable of feeling...we kissed like crazy for awhile, and that led to other things," she laughed.

"You were lovers all through high school?" I asked, my mouth agape.

"Yeah, we kept it hush-hush for a little while, and then the other girls started to notice, so we came out," she said.

"I could never do that here," I said sadly.

"Why not?" she asked, a puzzled look on her face.

"I have to drive to Bismarck or Fargo and go to the bars," I said, "there aren't any gay girls in Chandler."

"There's probably more than you think, they're still in the closet," she laughed.

"What about your parents?" I asked.

"My Mom won't talk to me, but my Dad and my brother are ok with it," she said.

"That's nice they accept you," I said.

"My Mother doesn't want me around my two younger sisters, but you're right, it's nice," she smiled.

"When did you get married?" I asked.

"You picked up on that, didn't you?" she giggled.

"I saw the look on your face when you slipped the ring on your finger," I said.

"Mmmm...well, last year we were juniors, and we had this impromptu ceremony after school one day... there were a few other girls there, and we exchanged rings and vows... it was a very emotional thing," she smiled.

"My folks are both dead," I said, " but I'm sure they wouldn't approve."

"Why not?" she asked, "it's not wrong, it's just different."

"Several years ago there used to be a farmhouse over that way," I said, pointing west, "And Rebecca lived there... we were the only two girls around for miles, and we did everything together, much like you and Lucy... It was our 12th summer, and we rode and swam in the creek and played hide and seek, it was wonderful."

"And?" she asked.

"We grew boobies and fuzz between our legs, and curiosity got the best of us......we were up in the hayloft, touching each other, sniffing, kissing, pinching our little nubbins, playing more or less...neither of us knew anything, and just the excitement of being naked with another person my age was enough," I said.

"Mmmm," she nodded.

"My Dad must have watched us for awhile, we didn't hear him climb the ladder. I was leaning to kiss her stomach when he yelled 'what are you two doing?'

I froze, and he said 'Come down out of there'. We got dressed and climbed down, and he sent Rebecca home...He took me to the house and sent me to my room. When it got dark, he came for me and dragged me out to the barn again and made me strip off my clothes."

"Oh, Jesus," she exclaimed.

"He bent me over a hay bale and whipped my bottom raw, but he never told me what I had done that was so wrong," I said wistfully.

"Did you ever try running away?" she asked.

"Where could I go?...All I know is horses, and if I left the farm would have gone to the state....this way, I inherited the place," I said.

"Yeah, along with all it's ghosts," she grimaced.

"Mmmm," I said.

"What happened to Rebecca?" she asked.

"I don't know, by the time I wasn't grounded any more she and her family were gone. And a few years later the house burned down, they said vagrants set it on fire. Old man Haskins rents the farm land for his sunflowers," I said.

We sat quiet for a while, my relief at being able to tell my story for the first time calming me, giving me an easy peace within. Meantime, she sat and drank her coffee, staring out at the prairie.


That afternoon the rain cleared and the sun came out, so I invited her to the barn and showed her around. A half-dozen kids showed up about 3 wanting to ride, and I asked her if she had been on a horse.

"No," she laughed.

"Do you want to ride along?" I asked.

"Could we?" she asked, her eyes bright with anticipation.

I saddled two of the gentler mares and we rode behind the group of kids toward the north and the creek. I figured they were going to do some skinny dipping, so I turned us east onto the old section line.

An hour or so into the ride she said "God Carolyn! it's so beautiful out here! No smog, the silence is so peaceful, nobody yelling, it's great!"

"If we were with the kids there'd be yelling, they're probably bare-ass in the creek," I said.

"Can we go too?" she asked grinning.

"Not with them, but there's a place we can go if you want," I replied.

"Please!" she exclaimed.

I leaned left and the horses turned, following the Petersen's fence line. Ten minutes later we arrived at the creek, a wide and shallow spot shaded by a dozen cottonwoods. She squealed and jumped off her horse, hurriedly stripping her clothes. The pink panties came off last, revealing her tiny white butt with its scant tan lines. I laughed as she ran to the water and waded in, stroking for the far side. The mild current took her a few yards downstream, and I folded my clothes and got our blanket and towels as she swam back.

I stared as she came out wringing her hair, her breasts were perfect. It was as if someone had impressed a oversize Champagne glass to her chest in two places, round firm swellings that were topped with pink aureoles and tiny darker-pink nipples. The top of her crease was barely visible, closed and puffy.

I handed her a towel and she laughed, asking "Did you plan on coming here today?"

"No, but I've learned to be prepared," I answered. I waded in and cooled off, then returned to the blanket. As I sat down she laid on her back and stretched her arms over her head, wiggling with the joy of being nude.

"Thank you for bringing me here," she said, "this is wonderful!"

I handed her the bottle of sunscreen and said "Better put some of this on you, sunburn hurts."

"Mmm," she replied, taking the bottle. She oiled herself and then looked at me quizzically, the bottle between us in her hand. I took it and put some on her back, hearing appreciative murmurs of pleasure. The two dimples above her butt held my gaze as I applied the oil.

She offered to do mine, and I rolled to my stomach. She had strong fingers on her small hands, working the stuff into my skin. She finished my back and I rolled over, watching her work. She began with my feet and lower legs, moving quickly to my thighs. Her fingertips caressed the edges of my pubic hair as she did the inside of my legs, and I took a deep, deep breath when she started on my belly. She didn't miss a beat, continuing upward across my breasts to my shoulders, crinkling my nipples.

"Ooops, sorry," she giggled, staring at my breasts.

She poured some more on each one and rubbed it in, smiling as the nipples hardened further. She moved to my arms and finished me quickly, putting the bottle down and wiping her hands.

"I'm sorry," she said as she sat down, "I had to touch them...I wish mine were that big."

"Big?!" I giggled, "they're barely a B!"

"Bigger than mine," she sighed.

"Give 'em a chance, they'll grow," I laughed.

"You think so?" she asked, looking down at them and cupping them from underneath, jiggling them in her hands.

"Yup," I smiled, laying back down to enjoy the sun.

Her touch had aroused me, I knew I was wet. Could she smell me, was it offensive to her? I didn't know what to say, so I laid there and soaked up the sun, happy she was there.

We splashed each other in the shallows and got wet again after awhile, and this time I got to touch her, the nipples darkening with arousal as they rose to my fingertips. She grabbed my wrist as I stroked, pressing it against her chest, uttering a small moan. Embarrassed I shook free and laid beside her, afraid I had offended her. She moved on her side, propping her head up with her hand, looking at me.

"It's ok, I didn't mind," she whispered.

"Thanks," I said, relieved.

She rolled to her back and spread her legs, putting her arms over her head with a sigh, and closed her eyes. A minute or so later her hand found mine and laced our fingers together with a small squeeze.


When the sun started to fade, I suggested we return to the house. One more splash and we got dressed, retrieving the horses from the lush grass nearby.

At the barn I saw the kids had returned almost everything to it's proper place, including their horses. I dropped some feed into the bins and checked the fountain, then went inside.

I showered and checked myself for ticks, finding none. I was sunburned in a few unaccustomed places, mostly the inside of my legs, so I put on my sleep shirt and started to cook supper. I had started the burgers and was working on the salad when a blood-curdling scream of "Carolynnnnn!" reached my ears.

Running into the bathroom, I saw her standing there in front of the shower shaking and pointing to her groin.

"What the fuck is THAT?!" she hissed.

A tick had latched on and bloated itself with her blood, very near her pussy. It was at the edge of her hair on the left side, about a quarter inch from her leg.

"It's a tick," I said matter-of-factly.

"God, get it off!" she squealed.

I went to the kitchen and lit a cigarette from the pack I kept for just this purpose and took it upstairs. She had shut off the shower and was sitting on the edge of the toilet, staring between her legs with a disgusted look on her face.

"You didn't tell me about ticks!" she wailed.

"I thought you knew, they're everywhere," I replied, "you don't have ticks?"

"Not where I swim," she bawled.

"Easy, Lisa, spread your legs and let me see," I said.

She sat and shivered as I applied the coal of the cigarette to the back of the tick, not near enough to burn it but close enough for it to feel the heat. It dropped into my hand and I flushed it, telling her "There, all gone."

"How do I know I don't have any more?" she asked.

"Check yourself, there's a mirror on the sink," I replied. I watched for a minute while she contorted herself in several different positions, shivering with fear at finding another. I checked her scalp and didn't find anything, telling her she was ok.

"They like moist furry places," I said, smiling.

"I'm gonna shave it bald!" she declared, grinning at me.


Supper had to be warmed up in the microwave, but we sat afterward on the couch with full stomachs, sharing the sunset and a beer. We shared a few funny moments from our lives, and I refilled the beers a couple of times, giving me a glow. This girl-woman, the funny-scaredconfident-married youngster, was getting to me. I didn't feel the same attraction to some other women as I did her, even in the bars there were some I ignored and some I was drawn to, almost against my will on occasion. She was spoken for though, so I contented myself with looking at her.

Around 10 she asked "Do you have a phone I could use? I ought to call Lucy and tell her I'm coming."

"Right over there," I pointed, going to the kitchen to get a refill.

She was waiting for it to complete when I walked back in the room, a childish happy grin on her face. I could only hear one side of the conversation, but I knew from the first seconds it wasn't going well.

"Hi Mrs. Matthews, can I speak with Lucy please?"

"Hi Luce!, it's me, Lisa....how are you? ..I miss you!"

"No kidding! What's the pay? Oh wow!, that's terrific."

"I wanted to let you know that I'm about half-way there, I'm in North Dakota, somewhere in the middle."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't mean that!" she cried, slumping against the wall.

Some moments of silence ensued, then she said "After what we went through together, you want to call it quits? I don't believe you!"

"Fuck you!" she screamed, "We've only been apart 5 months and 21 days, and I'm not the one who left!"

Sobbing now, she wound the cord around her hand as she struggled to keep calm, losing the battle.

"Who? ... what's her name? ... she's got bigger tits, doesn't she?"

"Answer me, Goddamnit! ... does she or doesn't she?"

"I knew it, I fucking well knew it!"

She tipped her beer skyward emptying half the bottle, lowering it in time to cry "Lucy, Lucy darling, please don't do this to me! ... remember our first time? ... remember camp? ... did you forget the wedding?"

"I know it wasn't legal, that's not the point!"

"If I was there I could hold you and talk you out of this, you're not acting like the Lucy I fell in love with."

"Oh no, please don't go! ... Lucy, I love you! ... talk to me, please?"

A long minute passed, her ear pressed hard against the receiver.

"I'm sorry too, more than you know ... bye."

She hung up the phone and turned to look at me, the pain in her eyes unbearable to see. She closed them and sat there shaking with sobs, her head in her hands and her elbows on her knees, crying in utter defeat and frustration. I walked over to her and bent down, putting my hand on her shoulder.

"Anything I can do?" I asked quietly.

She buried her face in my stomach, wrapping her arms around my hips, crying "Oh, shit, shit, shit!!" I let her cry, her shoulders quivering with her sobs and uneven breathing, trying to comfort as best I could. I had never loved someone enough to marry them, even in a mock ceremony like they had shared.

She calmed and stopped crying after awhile, going to the kitchen for another beer.

"Do you mind?" she asked, holding up the bottle.

"Help yourself," I replied.

She flopped back on the couch and drank a big swallow, muttering "She's got a job now, and she met this other girl at work and of course she has bigger tits than me, doesn't everybody?" she whimpered, beginning to cry again.

"I can't go back to my brother's and I can't go home," she sighed, "I guess I'll get drunk."

"You can stay here for a couple of days until you figure something out," I said.

"I appreciate it," she said, tipping her bottle again.

Over the next two hours she talked and sipped, cried and raged at the injustice of it all, steadily getting drunker. About one in the morning she passed out and I carried her upstairs, tucking her into my old bed with a kiss on the cheek. I went back down and cleaned up our mess, ending on the couch with the lights out, staring at the remains of our fire.

I pulled up my nightshirt and played with my clit, rubbing the side of it softly, waiting for it to get slippery. I rubbed a nipple between my fingers, letting the glow expand from my puss to my chest gradually, savoring the intensity of it. I didn't want her to turn to me on the rebound, that was doomed from the start. My orgasm hit hard and unexpectedly, warming my face and wrinkling my nipples, my hand sloppy wet with cum. I went upstairs, checking on her before I crept into my bed.


The next few days were quiet, she got up late and went to bed early, keeping mostly to herself, her ring finger now bare. We rode once, back to the creek by the trees, but neither of us got in the water. She sat on the bank with her knees up and her arms huddled around them, staring at the sky. I sat next to her, not touching but near, to let her know I was there.

I drove to town and took her with me, showing her the little town of Chandler and all it's attractions. We picked up a few things at the drug store and I drove home to cook supper. Meals were quiet introspection for both of us, only I was optimistic about the outcome.

The next morning I was awakened by a sound I couldn't identify, lying there in the false dawn straining my ears. It happened again, and I identified it as coming from Lisa's room. I walked to the door and tapped, asking "Are you ok?"

"Aaaahhhh" she replied. I walked in and saw her on the bed, the sheets spotted with blood, her hands rubbing circles on her stomach. Frightened, I asked "You haven't done something dumb, have you?"

"Nuh-uh," she replied, "I got my period."

"Looks like someone stuck you with a knife," I said.

"It's always this way, I never know when it's gonna come and my belly hurts!" she cried. I got her out of bed and into the shower, stripping the bed while she was busy. I gave her two Midol and got her a pad to wear, watching as she tucked it in an old pair of her panties.

She was shivering with the cold, so I wrapped my robe around her and led her downstairs and made her sit on the couch. I made tea and toast and fed her both, despite her complaints she wasn't hungry.

"How's the cramps?" I asked.

"Better," she smiled.

"Lean back on the couch and rub your womb, from the top down," I said,

"gentle but firm pressure, help it expel the lining." I showed her what I meant and she continued for a few minutes, telling me it felt better.

Around noon I heated some soup and gave it to her, watching her eat.

"You treat me like my Mom used to," she said, "always there when I needed her."

"You're a guest in my home," I replied.