This is Bec from “Coming Home” again.
The first Bec knew of the tractor being broken was when she went outside and tried to start it.
Nothing happened. She tried again. She found the choke and pulled it. She wiggled the starter button in case something had jammed.
Silence. The tractor was dead.
She climbed out and opened the engine bay and had a look for loose cables. She couldn’t see anything, so she went inside and called the dealership and asked for someone to come out.
Then she waited.
Her parents were away for a week at the field days, so she didn’t have much else to do but wait. She had been planning to run the slasher over the back paddocks, but that wasn’t urgent. It could be done in a day, or in a week.
It was cool morning at the end of summer. They’d be needing fires soon. She decided to start cutting wood. They always needed a lot to last through winter.
She got a chainsaw and took her pickup up the back, to the top paddocks, where shade trees had died in the drought and then fallen over in last winter’s storms. She started cutting branches into logs. She worked lazily, only taking the easy wood. The old gum branches were split and cracked and came apart on their own when they were cut. She left the thicker logs that didn’t split easily, and left the main trunks. There were hundreds of trees, enough to last whole lifetime of winters, so there wasn’t any point making too much of an effort to get these particular logs. She’d come back up and burn them here in winter, once the ground was wet and fire wouldn’t spread.
As she made each truck-load of cut wood, she threw it into the back of the pickup and took it down to the house. The wood-pile was around the side, at the edge of the home paddock and under a shelter-belt, out the rain.
She stacked wood, adding to the row that was already there.
After a couple of hours, while she was stacking the third load, she heard a vehicle in the drive. She went and looked around the side of the house to see who it was, expecting the tractor mechanic.
It was the tractor dealership’s truck, with tool-boxes and spare parts in the back, but the guy getting out wasn’t Barry. Barry was her father’s age and had been their tractor mechanic for most of Bec’s life, and this wasn’t him.
The guy getting out was definitely not Barry.
He was young, and he was hot. He had oily jeans, and a tight tee shirt, and a cap with the dealership’s logo on it. He was glancing around like he was wondering where everyone was. Bec stood there, and stared, and tried to decide what to do.
Tried to decide, while still realizing anything needed deciding at all.
She was sweaty and dusty and had twigs and leaves in her hair.
She was stuck out at her parents farm, where she’d known everyone for miles around all her life, and where most people were over fifty anyway. She was horny. She hadn’t got laid in a couple of months, and was too busy to go into town and get picked up, and both the need and the busy was getting worse. She was getting desperate. She needed something inside her that wasn’t made of plastic and something touching her that wasn’t her own hand.
She needed this guy, and he’d come at the worst possible time.
She didn’t want him seeing her like this. She was filthy. She was wearing thick dirty chainsaw safety pants and a grubby singlet. She had sawdust in her hair, and chain oil on her hands.
She tugged her boots off, and then pushed the chainsaw pants down. She had jeans on underneath.
She turned on the outside tap and ran water over her arms, splashed it on her face. It didn’t help much, except to make her drippy.
Around the front the guy was shouting hello.
She hesitated, then reached back and undid her bra. Wriggled her arms out of it, tugged it out from under her singlet, and threw it behind a shrub. It was vain. It was the most incredibly vain thing she’d done in a while, but might work. A minute ago she’d been a sweaty, dirty farm chick next to a wood pile. Now she was a poster hanging on a chainsaw shop’s wall.
She decided to stick with the plan. She splashed a bit more water around, got her hair and singlet damp enough to be obvious, and went around the side of the house.
“Hey,” she said. “Sorry, I was up the back.”
He stared. She was pleased.
He stared at her tits. Because her nipples were sticking out from the cold water, and the singlet was damp. Not thin or damp enough to actually show, but damp so it stuck to her fairly well.
He kept looking, and didn’t seem to realize he was.
Even leering he was cute. He had a slightly stunned expression. Probably wondering what was going on, she thought. She liked his expression. She liked the stare. She was hoping that meant this was going somewhere. She wondered if she should calm down a little. Slow down just a bit. She usually came on way too strong as soon as she opened her mouth, and she didn’t want to scare him off before she even said a word. almanbahis But then again, being pushy seemed to work for her. It had every other time she needed to get laid.
“Hello,” she said, and waved her hand in front her tits.
Waved her hand, so he realized she knew where he was looking, but pulled her shoulders back at the same time, so they stuck out more.
He looked embarrassed. “Sorry,” he said.
“What?” she said. “For taking your time getting here?”
He just stood there, like he couldn’t decide what to make of her.
“Yeah?” she said. “That was all, right?”
He grinned, after a moment, and seemed relieved. “Yeah,” he said. “That. So the tractor won’t start?”
Bec nodded. “Where’s Barry?”
“On holiday. Down on the coast. I’m Liam. I’m helping out.”
“Oh,” Bec said. “Yeah, okay. It’s in here.”
She pointed to the sheds, and he started walking. She waited a moment before she followed, long enough she could look at his ass as they walked. It was a nice ass, and her looking seemed fair.
At the tractor, she took a hair tie out her pocket and pulled her hair back, and he watched her tits as she did. So she was being fair back. And he looked, so he must still be interested, even if she was pushy.
Liam looked inside the tractor’s engine bay, and got Bec to try and start it, and then, possibly because of her tits, got her to hold things, and pass him tools, and by the time they finished she’d ended up underneath the tractor with him, holding the light so he could see, on her back, and as dirty as she’d been when he arrived.
It was the starter motor, in the end. It had failed, somehow, and Liam couldn’t see how but he had a spare, so he put the new one in. It took an hour, but the tractor started like it had never had a sulk that morning.
Bec was horny. By the time they were done, she was horny enough she couldn’t think clearly. This close to him, breathing in the smell of his body, bumping her hands against his as she passed him spanners, watching him glance at her and hoping he was thinking about her even as he worked, she was horny.
She needed him. She needed a fuck. And he was probably about to pack up and go.
She wondered what to do next. She wanted to make a pass, and she didn’t really know how. She would probably come on too strong as soon as she opened her mouth, and put him off. She’d got awkward around people, living out here. Awkward enough that flirting wasn’t really her thing. Not unless it was very confrontational flirting, just taking off her clothes and asking if he wanted her.
She decided to do that.
There was an old bathroom in the corner of the sheds. And she was greasy and sweaty and covered in dust from the floor.
“Shit,” she said. “I’m a mess.”
Liam nodded. He was packing up his tools.
“I feel sticky. And oily.”
Liam glanced up. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re got some grease on your arm.”
“I’ll bet.” Bec wiped where he pointed, near her elbow, and her hand came away sticky.
“So I might just have a shower,” Bec said.
Liam looked at her, a bit puzzled, and nodded. Like he didn’t understand why she’d say that to him.
Bec stayed where she was, didn’t go towards the bathroom. Liam kept looking at her.
“Yeah,” Bec said. Wondering if she should be doing this. “So I might, that was all.”
“Okay,” Liam said. He looked around, found a clipboard. “Could you sign this? To say the work’s done.”
Bec nodded, and took the pen, and signed without reading what she was signing.
She held out the pen, and Liam took it back.
“Yeah,” she said. “So I’ll have a shower.”
“Okay,” Liam said. “Well, thanks for the help.”
Bec nodded, and hesitated for a moment, staying where she was. Liam put the clipboard in the side of his toolbox and started picking up spanners.
“You can join me if you want,” Bec said. “If you’d like to.”
Liam dropped a spanner with a clang. Then stood where he was, and didn’t look at her.
“Or not,” Bec said, unsure what that meant.
Liam still didn’t answer. He picked up the spanner.
Bec decided that meant no. It was a little disappointing, but not really. Not enough to actually hurt. She’d turned this into something bigger than it was in her head. There was no reason some visiting mechanic would fuck her, just because she asked him too.
Especially when she hadn’t even really asked him to. Not clearly.
She turned around and went into the bathroom. She left the door open, half hoping he’d follow her. Not expecting him to, but hoping. Like some kind of fantasy in her mother’s dirty books.
She watched the door. She ran the water, and undressed, and watched the door, but nothing. He still hadn’t turned up by the time she’d washed her hair. Hadn’t turned up, and hadn’t even been near the door, as far as she could tell. She decided he wasn’t going to come in.
She hoped he hadn’t actually just gone. Not wanting to fuck her almanbahis yeni giriş was one thing, but leaving without a word was a bit rude.
She stood there under the water, and listened, and couldn’t hear anything from out in the shed. She decided he probably had gone.
She was horny. A little embarrassed she’d been so blunt, but still horny. She reached down and rubbed herself quickly under the water. She got herself off in a couple of minutes, efficiently and boringly, in the shower, keeping quiet, exactly like she’d had to most of the times she’d come since she moved back home.
She came, and stood under the water, breathing hard for a moment. She decided not to think about Liam any more. It was over, done with, and she shouldn’t let herself care. She got out, and dried herself with the old hand-towel hanging beside the sink, and pulled on her underwear and top. They were a bit grubby, and the towel had been a bit dusty, but getting clean hadn’t really been the point of the shower. She still had work to do. Wood to move. A day to get on with.
She stood where she was, feeling disappointed.
It was a nice day. There was a soft breeze, coming in gusts, rattling the dusty leaves in the creaking old gums around the yard. The rush of the wind and gurgling of the drain slowly emptying made enough noise that Bec couldn’t hear well. Not enough to hear quiet footsteps.
She didn’t realize she wasn’t alone until she turned around.
Liam was standing there looking at her.
“Um,” Bec said, and held the towel up against herself. “Shit. You came.”
The towel was old and thin and not very big. She hadn’t dried herself that well. Her hair was wet. Her skin was wet. She was wearing a singlet and underwear and nothing else, and she knew without looking the singlet was sticking to her, and the undies too, and they were old and thin and not very sexy.
She really wasn’t at her best.
She worried for a moment, then saw Liam’s face and decided he didn’t seem to care. He probably wasn’t noticing the clothes were old, because of the damp and thin. That made her feel better.
“Sorry,” Liam said. “Fuck, I…”
Bec, surprised, still didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, and couldn’t remember whether she’d actually looked over at the door in a while. Probably not before she’d started getting dressed, and maybe longer. Liam seemed to be trying not to look, which made her think he’d had a good gawp before she realized he was there. From his face, from his embarrassment, she thought he had.
Liam was embarrassed. Bec started to feel embarrassed too.
The whole thing suddenly felt horribly awkward, and not sexy at all.
Liam wasn’t looking at Bec. He was looking around, back out into the shed. Bec felt a bit sorry for him. Almost a bit sorry he’d come in at all.
“Shit,” Liam said. “I’m sorry. I thought you were serious.”
“No,” Bec said. “I was. I am. Come in.”
He looked at her for a moment.
“Come on,” she said, and dropped the towel, and went over to him.
She wanted to kiss him. She would have kissed him. She changed her mind at the last minute. He was nervous, and cute, and she needed this a lot. She really only had one chance. She knelt down, and undid his jeans.
He watched her without saying a word.
She took his cock out, and held it, swelling, in her hand, and he didn’t move.
She decided she’d done the right thing.
She leaned forward and put him in her mouth. He tasted a little sweaty. A little more man than if he’d just had a shower. Not unpleasant, just that he’d been working. She didn’t mind. She quite liked it. She sucked him, sucked the hard hot shape of him in her mouth, and breathed in the smell of his body.
It wasn’t the first time she’d blown a guy out in the sheds, but it was the first in a while. She knelt there, and sucked, and after a moment he started stroking the top of her head. A little after that he bent, and pulled her singlet up, and seemed to be trying to get it off her without taking his cock out her mouth. She stopped and pulled it over her head and kept going, and he started playing with her tits.
He didn’t squeeze, and he didn’t pinch. He just stroked, and held her, and his touch was nice enough that just having her tits groped turned her on again.
That, and wanting him for an hour, and thinking this through a dozen times before they started.
She sucked, and stroked the base of him in her hands, and realized he was getting close, fairly quickly. His taste changed, and he swelled a little in her mouth.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m…”
“Come,” she said. “We can’t fuck, unless you’ve got condom.”
He looked like he’d only just thought of that, then shook his head.
“Come,” she said. “In my mouth.”
Saying it seemed to be enough. His balls twitched and he spurted against her tongue, spurted suddenly enough she jumped before she swallowed. He tasted like salt and warmth and man, and there was almanbahis giriş a lot. She had to swallow once, then again, and it still spilled and dripped onto her hand.
He didn’t move, kept standing, his eyes closed, his cock twitching in her mouth. Like he was enjoying her, or the idea of her, so she stayed where she was, sucking gently, trying to guess how hard to suck, and how much to move her mouth, without making him wince.
After a moment he pulled her up, and kissed her even while she was wiping him off her lips.
“Hold on,” she said, but he kissed her again, pushing his tongue into her mouth.
She decided he didn’t care, and kissed back. His hands slid down her back, went inside her underwear, trying to finger her from behind. Hers were on his chest, feeling him all hard and warm and actually there, wanting her.
He looked around, then said, “Over here.”
He pushed her backwards onto a pallet of bagged stock feed that was beside the bathroom door. Pushed gently, holding her as they fell, but pushing all the same. He tugged her underwear down, tugged hard enough she thought they might rip, then knelt, bent, and started licking her.
Just like that.
He was good. He was what she needed. She grabbed his hand and pulled his fingers inside herself, and held his head, and pushed up at his mouth with her hips, and couldn’t think for how perfect it was.
He licked her well. He licked her like he enjoyed it, and wanted it, and was realizing he wanted the taste of her as he did it, the same way she’d realized she missed the taste of a man, while she had him in her mouth. He licked her like he wanted her, and needed her, and stayed there, his tongue on her, his fingers inside her, until she came.
Then he slid up and started kissing her again. Kissing her well, tasting of her. Kissing her so she knew they weren’t finished, and so she wanted to keep going too, desperately.
His cock was between them, still hard, and not using it seemed to be a waste.
She knew this was stupid, but she decided she didn’t care.
She reached down, and pulled it against herself, into herself.
He went still.
“Fuck me,” she whispered, into his mouth. “Don’t come inside me.”
That seemed to be enough. He started moving.
He was thick and hot inside her, hard again just from going down on her. She liked that. She liked that he wanted her like she wanted him.
He was hot inside her, pushing into her until she couldn’t think.
She needed this. She needed it more than she could stand.
She closed her eyes for a while, and just felt him against her, wetly inside her, his body over her, the strength in his arms as he held himself up. She opened her eyes, and watched him fuck. He stopped sometimes, like he needed to count backwards. From his face she thought he wasn’t used to bareback and she felt pretty good.
For her he definitely felt good.
He was kneeling, half standing, was pushing down into her, and there was something about the pressing and the downwards and the angle of her hips that was breathtakingly good. She lifted up one leg, hooked it over his hip. She usually felt stupid fucking with her feet in the air, like it was undignified or something. This time she didn’t care. When she lifted up her knee, something inside her moved. He was pressing against a different part of her. She lifted up her other foot, and he started puffing into her neck and groaning like it worked for him too.
“Wait,” she whispered. “Not yet.”
She wasn’t sure if he heard. Usually she didn’t come just from sex, but she was feeling close. She wanted to try.
“Wait,” she said, and he nodded a little, but kept his face against her neck.
He managed a while longer, but from how soon and much he’d come in her mouth, she was pretty sure it had been a while for him and hadn’t been expecting him to last.
“I can’t much longer,” he said after a while.
“That’s cool,” she said, not really disappointed. “Go.”
She expected him to come inside her, had forgotten he wasn’t going to. Just as she remembered, just as she started to say, “Wait,” to remind him, he pulled out of her and wanked onto her tits.
She’d opened her mouth, for some reason had thought he would finish there, but he’d aimed for her tits. Maybe he just hadn’t made it.
She lay there as he came, wondered what she was doing, trying to get men she didn’t know to come on her face. It was kind of degrading.
She didn’t really care. He came on her, his semen hot on her skin, wet as it landed. As he was finishing, while he was still coming, Liam went back to kissing her.
Kissing as he held himself and came between them.
He kept kissing, afterwards. Left his cock between them, all hard and hot and feeling like a promise of more because it didn’t go down.
Not even after his second time.
“Fuck,” Liam panted into her mouth. “Oh fuck.”
He was trying to kiss her, and breathe too, so she pushed his face away until he caught his breath.
He licked her neck. He licked her tits, where his semen had landed.
It felt quite nice. The heat of him cooling, the wetness of his tongue on her skin.
It felt nice, but she wondered why he was doing that. Maybe he didn’t realize.