Working Ranch Vacation Ch. 01

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Mike kissed me, picked his lunch off the counter top and headed for the door. “Mike, I still don’t see why you are so damned set on going to that damned ranch so you can work all through your vacation.” Mike hesitated at the door, turned, grinned and reached for a piece of chalk, conveniently located in the tray at the bottom of the chalk board we maintain near the back door so we can jot reminders to ourselves. Without responding verbally to my lament, he wrote ‘NO WHINING,’ drew a large circle with a slash through it, blew me a kiss and left, closing the door gently as he went.

I sighed, and giggled. Perhaps I had been whining…just a little bit! Still though, It seemed so unfair to plan to spend his entire two-week annual vacation helping his brother with the haying. Haying, for God’s sake, surely there are other ranch jobs he could help with that wouldn’t destroy the entire vacation working his ass off. I grew up on a ranch, I knew how hard haying was and how exhausted a body could be after a day bucking bales. Not that dad asked or expected me to actually lift and toss bales of hay, he only ‘let’ me drag them into a line so they would load onto trucks more easily!

For nearly a year, ever since our last vacation, I had dreamed of balmy breezes, blue skies, tepid ocean currents and white sands, gleaming in bright sunlight or perhaps bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. Actually, the exotic surroundings I dreamed of had only been stage settings for the glorious sex I just knew would happen once we had an opportunity to relax. God, flat on my back with legs lifted high and wrapped behind Mike’s straining butt as he plumbed all the way to my core. Well for starters anyhow, afterward, we could have steamed things up a bit with my head on folded arms and my ass high while he did his imitation of a raging bull and did his best to split me wide open. I grinned secretly as I had long known, God knows, we have tried often enough, big as he is and small as I am, there’s no way he can split me wide open.

I shook my hand and tried to put the vivid images of screwing on a deserted beach from my mind, surely there would be SOME place on that damn ranch we could disappear to for long enough for a little nookey. Still though, a creaky old bedstead or some out-of-the-way nook out in the bushes would be a far cry from the island paradise I had been hoping for. I grinned when I recalled the bed Mike and I generally use when we visit his brother’s ranch. Neither Tim nor Marsha had given a clue as to whether or not they had heard us the first time we made love on that bed. Actually, they couldn’t have failed to hear, we made noise enough to wake the dead. Just as they did a few minutes later when the sounds emanating from their room left no doubt as to what they were doing.

Again, I shook my head and determined to get on with my morning routine. First there was the kitchen to clean, as I had broken our usual routine and cooked bacon, eggs, hash browns and toast for breakfast. Then, I probably should change the bed linen, there was no way, given the way we had gone at it the night before, those sheets wouldn’t be in sore need of laundering. I giggled secretly as I contemplated the number of times a set of sheets could be laundered before disintegrating. Those sheets and the alternate pair I put on every other day. God, would that Mike and I never, ever become so jaded and weary we drift from pleasuring one another the way we do. Stripping the bed and laundering sheets most every morning is a small price to pay when one considers the alternative. Infrequent sex or none at all, God!

My dreams of a glorious two-week sojourn accompanied with numerous bouts of great sex were pretty much shattered when Tim called and announced that the man who generally helps with ranch work had broken a leg and wouldn’t be available to help with the haying. I know it must have been difficult for him to make the call as both he and Marsha knew our minds were set on some sort of a tropical get-away. Still though, an opportunity to hire replacement help for a short-term task was close to impossible and there was no way he and Marsha could do all the work themselves. So, Mike and I would have to postpone our plans to screw our brains out on a white, sandy beach and see if we couldn’t make do in a dusty hay barn, or out between rows of corn or perhaps on some muddy creek bank. I giggled with the thought that if Tim and Marsha didn’t mind listening to Mike and me having fun in bed, we should plan to take whatever pleasure we could from listening to their bed slamming into the wall with metronome-like precision.

My reverie was broken by the peal of the telephone bell. It was Marsha, upset over the turn of events that made it necessary for Tim to call and ask us to change our vacation plans. “Anne, I know how badly you and Mike wanted to spend time laying around on some exotic beach. Probably erotic too, if I know you two.”

I giggled eryaman escort conspiratorially and tried to let my sister-in-law know it wasn’t that much of a big deal. Apparently with little success, as she was quick to shush me, “Bullshit Anne, you’ll never convince me you haven’t been looking forward to having your ass bounced all over some delightful beach.”

“Well sure, I’m certain that had we gone, I probably would have managed to get some sand on my backside, hopefully not in any of the really tender spots though.”

“Oh God, wouldn’t that smart though? Anyhow, if you ARE bound and determined to grind sand into your backside, there IS a spot Tim and I found that’s kind of sandy. We could show you where it is if you really want to fuck around on a sandy beach.” She giggled and added, “Damn it Anne, now you’ve made me horny so I suppose I’ll have to put up with a little sand on my arse too.”

Suddenly adventurous, I shot back with, “Only if you guys stay and help us enjoy ourselves. God, it’s not as though we don’t know what goes on when once the lights are out.”

My outburst was met with silence for a time, then Marsha, her voice cautious and full of trepidation said, “You don’t think that a bit kinky?”

“Probably, but who gives a shit as long as the four of us are comfortable. Truth of the matter is, I’ve kind of wondered what it would be like if Mike and I were not alone when he has his way with me. We’ve talked about it but have never really made a move to do anything. Still though, I’ll bet you won’t get an argument from him you decide to wave your bare butt in his face. Truth be known, he’s as much taken with hooters as anything so I’m sure you’ll get no complaints from him should you decide to remove your shirt and bra.”

“Well Anne, you can rest assured, Tim won’t mind at all getting an eyeful of your bared boobs either. Reason I know, he told me after you two were here the last time. God, I had to take him all the way to my tonsils to pry his mind away from your tits.”

“Damn Marsha, keep talking that way and I’ll have to take my panties off and wring ’em out. Probably need a bath towel to dry myself!”

That admission was followed with peals of laughter, “God Anne, you still have your panties on. Mine have been off for a good ten minutes and, you know, you’re right, they do need to be wrung out. But not until after my friend Mary finishes.”

“Mary? You’re not alone?”

“Oh I’m alone alright. No, I meant Mary Palm and her four bratty fingers. Well, enough of this bullshit. It’ll be great to see you guys and I do mean ‘SEE’ in the most erotic fashion you can imagine. See ‘ya Saturday. Better yet, why not come on up Friday after Mike gets off work? I’ll have fried chicken, potato salad and some other stuff ready and we can talk or watch a video or something before going to bed.”

I could just imagine Marsha leering countenance and had to wonder just what all goes into ‘or something’ but said “Oh Marsha, don’t go to all that trouble, we can pick up something along the way and save you all that work. Fact is, if your heart is set on fried chicken, we’ll stop by the Colonel’s. That way, we’ll only have to clear the table and there won’t even be dishes to wash.”

“Yeah, listening to that dishwasher can be a real pain in the ass sometimes when one would sooner hear sweet nothings or perhaps something a bit more risqué.”

“I suppose. Listen Marsha, I better run. Gotta see if I can find our luggage, do up some laundry and I better get some yard work done if we are going to be up at your place for a couple of weeks.”

“Yeah, well don’t bring everything you own. Hot as it is, a couple or three pair of shorts and a couple pair of jeans should about do it. This time of year I usually wear tee shirts and I sure as hell don’t bother with bras. Panties either for that matter.”

“Hmmm, no evening wear huh?”

“You were born with all the evening wear you’ll need around here. Even if we do go into town a time or two, clean jeans and a tee or tank will be all you’ll need. No bra and a tank should be just the ticket when it comes to giving the cowboys a thrill!”

We broke the connection and I finally got busy and did the housework I new needed doing. First though, there was a more pressing need I had to take care of. Finished, I licked my fingers dry and started setting out things I wanted to take along when we went up to the ranch. With that task finally accomplished, I stood back and looked at the stacks of clothing piled on the bed. And to the clothing bracket fastened to the back of the bedroom door that was filled to capacity with hanging up clothing.

I thought of Marsha’s advice to pack light and giggled because I had set out enough outfits so both Mike and I could change two times a day for a month and that included underwear, socks and hankies.

Then came the task of lightening the load. In the end, I ended up esat escort pretty much with the things Marsha had suggested although I did include more undies as I can not abide wearing the same bra and panties for more than a single day without a change. Guess I wasn’t quite ready to accept the concept of going around wearing no underwear at all and part of that, I suppose, is knowing just how moist I get sometimes. God, if it were not for my cotton panties absorbing some of the moisture, I would have a perpetual dark colored damp spot showing whenever I wore trousers or shorts. Then, too, there are the inevitable ‘skid’ marks although, admittedly, Mike has more of them than I do. Guess maybe he farts more than I do!

I had dug out our luggage and was trying to decide which pieces we would need when Mike arrived home from work. I sensed his arrival in the bedroom and turned to discover his look of skepticism as he checked the few items I had finally decided we would need. Shaking his head in amazement, my husband chuckled, “God Hon, no more than you have laid out, you’ll be doing laundry every day. You haven’t forgotten we are going to be up there for two weeks have you?”

“Yeah well, I talked to Marsha this morning and she seems to think there’ll be a lot of times when we won’t need to wear anything at all. Said it would be silly to bring along a lot of stuff we won’t need.” I waved my arm to include the hang-ups and stacks and added, “So I took her at her word. Whadda ya think. Too much stuff,” and giggled. “By the way Honey, welcome home. Shall I clear some of this stuff off the bed so you can have your way with me or should I just bend over the back of the couch?”

Mike slipped his hand in under the waistband of my shorts, found no other fabric, laughed and asked, “My we’re randy this afternoon aren’t we, to what do we owe all this freedom of expression?”

“Oh lots of things I suppose but there was that conversation with Marsha. I don’t know what got into her this morning but she sure convinced me I won’t be sorry we have to put off our Caribbean vacation ’til some other time.”

“God Hon, it sounds as if you two must have had an interesting conversation. You sure it was my Sister-In-Law you were on the phone with. I know from the racket they make in the middle of the night she must be a lusty babe. But, other than that, she has never said or done anything I would have considered out of line. Little or no clothing, eh? Well, I guess I’ll believe it if I ever get to see it.”

Mike grinned and continued, “Now for your suggestion that we might do it with you draped over the back of the couch, I hope you meant right now,” and began to loosen the buttons on his shirt as well as to tug at the knot on his tie.

Not being encumbered with the necessity to dress for the office, I had fewer garments to remove and beat him, naked, to the couch. To insure he didn’t become distracted and forget why I was there, I spread my legs wide, reached through and separated my labia and got things warmed up for him. I even rubbed my clit and humped myself suggestively in case he forgot while I was naked and draped over the couch the way I was. Guess he got the message because, without hesitation, he stepped in close and entered me with a single lunging thrust. If he was expecting me to complain about being fucked so violently, I sure did disappoint because all I did was yell, more, more. Harder damn it.”

Later on and with copious quantities of his generous offering of cum trickling from my cock stuffed pussy, I was glad I had the couch supporting me, otherwise I’d never have been able to support myself. Actually, I was glad we had selected the couch for the attack on my pussy as, had we chosen the carpet, I’m sure we would have had to have the carpet cleaners back again. Way too soon after their most recent visit. Then again, re-cleaning the carpets would be an excellent way to get that twenty-something guy with the extra tight buns back into the bedroom with me, although enticing him back into a lady’s bed wouldn’t have required much effort.

When Mike became too limber to remain in me longer, I, reluctantly, allowed him to slip clear, stood and hurried to the bathroom where we showered together. Freshly scrubbed, we stepped from the cloying confines of the shower stall and dried one another. Mike dried me first then it was my turn to do him and I made certain I devoted as much attention to his dick as he did to my pussy. Then, totally nude, we walked hand-in-hand to the kitchen only to discover I had failed to set anything out to thaw.

It required but a moment for Mike to realize why I wasn’t scurrying about making preparations for dinner. He grinned and said, “So what’ll it be Hon, pizza, Asian or the Colonel?”

I snapped my fingers and said, “Don’t let me forget, we need to pick up some fried chicken on our way to the ranch. I told Marsha not to bother trying to cook up ankara escort a meal, given the late hour we will be arriving.”

“Okay, guess that eliminated chicken for tonight then. That leaves pizza or Asian, what’s your pleasure?”

“Let’s go pizza, they deliver and it won’t be necessary to get dressed and go pick it up.”

Although it would have been fun to see the expression on the pizza kid’s face if I took delivery wearing only a big smile, I slipped into a lightweight robe. At that, I chose to leave the ties dangling and the front gaping open. Delivery kids need some excitement in their lives! As it turned out, I guessed incorrectly and it was a teen age girl that made the delivery. Prepared as I was to give a teen age boy a thrill, I had no opportunity to make myself presentable and had to brazen it out and pretend I didn’t know how exposed I was. I handed the girl a twenty dollar bill and waved away the change she proffered. If the girl had not already seen my tits and bush, my gesture was more than enough to bring a beaming smile to her face. “God Mrs. Johnson, no wonder the guys fight to see which of them will get to make deliveries here. I wish…” Shaking her head in mock sadness but still smiling broadly, the girl turned and left me standing in the open doorway. She glanced back over her shoulder with the change still grasped in her hand, waved, said, “Thanks. For everything,” and went back to her car.

After dinner, Mike and I returned to the bedroom where we again took stock of the things I intended to take along to the ranch. “So what do you think Mike, shall I pack more or not?”

Mike shrugged with a perplexed expression and finally said, “Oh shit Hon, let’s go for broke and say ‘not.’

“Suits me. There is one other thing Mike, think I forgot to tell you but Marsha says we should plan to go up tomorrow after you get off work. You have a problem with that?”

“Yeah Hon. I sorta got that when you mentioned picking up some chicken. And no, I don’t mind, it’ll give us an earlier start on the haying come Saturday morning.”

I only grinned when it occurred to me it would also afford an earlier start for other things as well. I guess my pussy thought so too, as no sooner did I have that thought than did I feel the tell-tale moistness. Both I AND my pussy were ready!

Thus it was that late Friday evening, with a large tub of steaming hot fried chicken in the back, Mike and I pulled in and were greeted by Marsha and Tim as we stepped from the SUV. Since the hour was late, nine-thirty, and everyone was hungry, we wasted but a few moments with greetings. Then, while the chicken was still hot, we sat down to eat. As predicted, clean-up was quick and easy, then we carried in the few items we brought along and spent an hour or so talking. Actually, considering the erotic nature of the phone conversation I had had with Marsha, our chat was pretty bland and, by the time the eleven o’clock news finished, everyone was ready for bed.

Strangely enough, the beds didn’t seem to be as noisy as I remembered which is not to say they were not noisy. Certainly Mike and I had no difficulty in determining his brother and wife were enjoying themselves mightily. Similarly, I’m sure Marsha and Tim had to have known I was being thoroughly reamed. They probably didn’t know I had applied a liberal coating of KY to Mike’s dick so that it was my ass receiving all the attention. That enabled me the freedom shove a finger up my twat so I could play with Mike’s cock at the same time he was reaming my ass. I tried to limit the volume of my own exhortations to fuck me harder by stuffing a corner of a pillow into my mouth but Mike, well there is no way either Marsha or Tim could have missed his grunts of pleasure as he tried desperately to shove his dick all the way up into my throat.

Both Mike and I grinned and nudged one another when Marsha called out, “Ride ’em cowboy. Fuck me good.”

The house quieted eventually and we slept well. At least Mike and I did and I assume Marsha and Tim did too.

Mike and Tim got an early start in the morning and had the hay in one of the fields pretty well baled and ready to be loaded onto the truck by the time Marsha and I arrived to help them. We took drinking water and late morning snacks along with us and had no difficulty enticing the guys from the work long enough to refresh themselves. We ate and drank in shade provided by a grove of Aspens at the edge of the field. As the evening before, most of Marsha’s and my conversation that morning had been bland with no sexual overtones at all and I began to wonder if our telephone conversation had been some sort of an aberration or if she really had become more liberal. I didn’t have to wonder for long though as, soon after drawing the guys over into the shade, she turned to me and asked, “So Anne, did you take my advice and dress comfortably?”

Since I was wearing shorts and a tee shirt and only someone totally blind would not have known I was braless, I took her question as an invitation to demonstrate just how comfortably I had dressed. And since Mike and Tim had long since removed their shirts, I seized the opportunity and slipped out of my tee shirt. After all, fair IS fair!

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