Harvest

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A young wife rediscovers her past.
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CharlieB4
CharlieB4
1,219 Followers

G'day Everyone,

I'm back with another story. This one is set in Australia and does contain some of the local version of English. A ute is the Aussie equivalent of a pick up. A swag is a bed roll used when camping.

The story started its life as a loving wives tale but then it morphed into non consent/reluctance with a little bit of light incest thrown in.

A big thank you to Capt Obvious for his timely help editing.

Hope you enjoy it. Please leave a comment after reading to let me know what you think.

Cheers

CharlieB4

*****

HARVEST

The heat haze shimmered off the bitumen's black top as it stretched away out in front of me. The outside temperature was thirty eight celsius but inside my Landcruiser the climate control kept it at a pleasant twenty three. The cruise control was set on one hundred and ten and the V8 diesel purred along barely raising a sweat.

In the distance a line of jagged hills marked my destination. They were all that were left of what had been a large volcano. Thirteen million years of rain, wind and ice had ravaged it till all that was left was its skeleton. Our farm was just to the south east of the national park which covered the main area of the old mountain. My husband would often marvel at his grandfather's good fortune to have drawn a block of land there in the soldier settlement scheme after World War One.

A quirk of nature meant that the district east of the national park received on average twenty percent more rainfall than surrounding areas. Add to that the volcanic soil and it was the perfect mix for farming prosperity. Not that I knew much about it. I was a city girl, born and raised six hours east, in Sydney.

My family, like ninety percent of Australians, stubbornly clung to the coast. My mum was a relatively recent migrant to the sunny shores of Australia. She'd been one of the thousands of young Vietnamese women who had escaped the uncertainty of life in her strife torn country as a "mail order bride" in the early nineteen eighties. The first marriage had not worked out but then she'd met my dad, a Lebanese truck driver. So I was a like many children of my generation in the multicultural melting pot of western Sydney. A unique hybrid of many cultures. Luckily for me I'd got my mother's French/Vietnamese looks and figure and my dad's olive skin.

The urban zone speed limit signs flashed past as I entered Gilgandra so I touched the brake to turnoff the cruise control and slowed down to fifty. I pressed the phone button on the steering wheel and asked my phone to call my husband, Justin. I had to leave the highway on the other side of town and the mobile service was always dodgy on the other road. Music stopped coming through the sound system speakers, replaced by the shrill ring tone.

"Hello," said a voice barely audible over the roar of the machine he was sitting in.

I imagined him sitting in the cabin of the harvester. One hand on the joystick controlling the forty foot front scything the wheat heads from the straw. His eyes darting backwards and forwards between the myriad of dials and the crop in front of him while the grain ran into the bin behind his head. At least the GPS took care of the steering now.

"Hi honey," I said brightly. "I'm just in Gilgandra so I'm about forty minutes away. Do you need these parts straight away?" I looked across at the large belt folded on the passenger seat and another square steel contraption with pipes poking out of it.

"No, just bring them this evening with the fuel and dinner. They are predicting a weather front to hit in two days so I can't afford to stop unless I have to."

"How much do we have to go?"

"Four days."

"Alright I'll leave you to it."

"Bye." He said and the sound of machinery roaring was replaced by music.

He wasn't much for small talk my husband. He'd always had, what my mother politely described, as an efficiency with words. Others in the family had considered him aloof and rude. At the moment his stress levels were high. He'd been working twenty hour days for two weeks harvesting the barley and chickpeas. The end was in sight but the threatening weather meant his mind was somewhere else.

Funnily enough his quiet nature had been one of the things that attracted me to him in the first place. I was sick of the city boys who just had to tell you how much they earned. How important their job was. How expensive their car had been and just generally how lucky you were that they were bothering to talk to you.

We met on a blind date. He was a friend of a friend's cousin and I was invited to make a group of five become six. I went fully expecting to have sex with my date because that would have been the reason I was invited. I'd lost my virginity in school and loved it so much I made sure I practiced a lot. My friends back then described me as a 'party girl,' my enemies opinion would be closer to slut.

Despite our different personalities we hit it off. He was polite, courteous but just occasionally he showed a flash of razor sharp wit. Justin offered to drive me home and I was waiting for him to make a move. When we turned into my street I remember wondering if he was gay. He walked me to the front door before giving me a sisterly peck on the cheek goodnight. Taking the initiative while he was close I'd grabbed him and given him the XXX version. The look on his face when he'd broken away had been priceless especially when I added in a husky voice.

"You should give me a call next time you're in town."

The next weekend he was back and as the saying goes, the rest is history. My parents loved Justin. Mum still couldn't believe that I would end up with someone so nice. Justin and my dad would talk about trucks and machinery for hours. Of course when we were alone I made sure I had his undivided attention...

Justin's parents weren't as enamored about their son's choice. The first time I met them was at a family wedding. I wore my 'normal' clothes and Justin's dad, Micheal, eyes' were drawn to my cleavage until Margaret, Justin's mum, jabbed her elbow into his ribs. The look of disdain Margaret threw in my direction was unmistakable. It was quickly replaced with a painted on smile as she kissed my cheek before moving her husband on.

Two weeks later I'd made my first trip to farm, Bundarbo Station. I caught the train to Dubbo where I met up with Justin. He was on the way home in the truck after delivering a load of barley to a feedlot further south. We got to the homestead about sunset. Margaret greeted me coolly before showing me to the guest room. It just happened to be next to hers' and at the opposite end of the house to Justin's. Luckily two French doors opened onto a verandah which surrounded the house so I could sneak out and follow it around to keep my man happy.

I'd stayed close to Justin the whole weekend, trying to avoid being alone with Margaret. She'd been super sweet to me but underneath I detected outright hostility. I was having a sleep Sunday afternoon, my nocturnal trips had worn me out, when Justin left with his father to help a neighbor with a bogged tractor. I'd wandered into the kitchen still wiping the sleep from my eyes and was confronted by Margaret brandishing a large knife. She'd informed me the boys were out but said that would give us a chance to chat. Then the bitch had come out to play.

"It will never last. You wouldn't last six months living out here." Margaret had said as she finely chopped some rosemary.

"You know nothing about me and what I'm capable of."

"I know you have good night vision. You haven't run into the furniture on the verandah yet."

I didn't reply.

"My boy is too good for the likes of you. Once you run out of tricks he'll drop you like a hot potato." She stopped cutting and pointed the knife at my crotch. "I mean let's face it, there is only so many ways you can spread your legs."

"Have you seen the smile on your boys face? I'm sure he's very happy with his choice and I've still got plenty of things to teach him. You know how it is 'mum', a girls got to save a few tricks for the honeymoon." I retorted with a smile before turning leaving the room.

Margaret's voice followed me. "You'll marry him over my dead body you gold digging whore!"

It had been so stupid of her to challenge me. I may not have been the sharpest tool in the shed but I was a competitive bitch. If she had only known I had been wondering much the same things myself. Could I live out here? Hearing Justin talk about the farm I knew if I stayed with him I would always come second to it.

Also I been intrigued about the gold digger comment. Dad had warned me farmers are always broke. The homestead was nice but it wasn't a mansion. The cottage on the other side of the farm Justin had shown me, saying he was thinking of moving into it, was a dump.

A cloud of dust on the road in front of me bought me out of the past and back to the present. Unlike the highway I was on before, this road was a single strip of bitumen one car width wide with gravel verges. I could tell from the cloud of dust it was a big truck coming towards me so I pulled over and waited for it to pass me. I looked into the back seat and boot of the Landcruiser to check on my load. Bags and bags of groceries to feed the harvest team.

I was the mistress of Bundarbo now. I'd married Justin nine months after my first visit. I'd blown up the photo taken of Margaret, Micheal, Justin and me on the happy day and hung it in a prominent place in the cottage. It was my victory photo. I was beaming, Justin was laughing, Micheal had one eye on my tits and Margaret 'smile' looked more like a sneer. To be honest I don't know how she got through that day.

I'd declared a unilateral truce after but in the eight years since we were never close. I'd tried to get closer for Justin's sake especially after she was diagnosed with cancer twelve months ago. However my efforts were rebuffed. In six months she was gone. Just before harvest Justin and I moved to the main house and Micheal went to the cottage although I still cooked most of his meals. Justin ran the farm, Michael now helped him. I was their 'gofer' and I did the book keeping. I now knew all about the 'gold. Fifteen thousand acres valued between one thousand and fifteen hundred dollars an acre. We did owe the bank two million on the land and another one and a half in equipment loans but we were a long way from poverty.

The prime mover rattled past with its three trailers. I waited for the dust to clear before pulling back onto the road. I was only twenty minutes from home. I had to get five dinners ready then fill up the fuel truck before six. The aim was to get to the boys by six thirty. They'd eat while I refueled the two harvesters, the chaser bin and silobag tractors. If our truck was in the paddock I'd refueled it as well.

Ten minutes from home I spotted a ute with its bonnet up on the side of the road. As I got closer one of the figures with his head in the engine bay stood up and moved to the middle of the road to flag me down. I stopped and slid the window down a little. I wasn't keen to let the stifling heat into my twenty two degree climate controlled cabin.

"You wouldn't happen to have some water in there would you?" The Irish accent floated in the window from the scruffy man outside. "We blew a radiator hose. We had a spare but we haven't got any water to fill it up." He explained.

I looked him and his companion, who now stood beside him, over. They looked a little rough. They both had blue cotton drill shorts and shirts on. The shirts had Longman Harvest Contractors stitched on the left pocket. Both hadn't shaved for a few days and their clothes were dusty with streaks of grease and sweat. Neither had hats on and their faces were bright red. Backpackers probably doing their forty days on the harvest trail so they could get another six month tourist visa.

"Can you try our boss on your UHF radio? Ours doesn't seem to be working." The other blonde guy said in another foreign accent.

I pointed to the small stony rise to our left. "You get inference from the rocks in that hill. This one won't work here either." I mentally flipped a coin and it landed their way. "Alright get in out of the heat. Our place is ten minutes away. You help me get the groceries inside then I'll bring you back with some water."

The dark haired Irishman got in the front after putting the parts on the floor while the other guy squeezed in the back amongst the bags of supplies. They were both backpackers but they'd just started working for a harvest contractor. He'd started eight weeks ago in Central Queensland but these boys had only just joined him and planned to work with him all the way down to southern Victoria around Christmas time. The Irish guy was called Patrick, Paddy, who'd have guessed. The blonde one, Stefan, was from Denmark.

We chatted amiably about where they come from on the short trip home. Justin and I had honeymooned in Europe and I turned out we'd driven past Stefan's father's farm. I pulled into the open garage door and braced myself for the temperature change outside. We got the groceries inside in quick time with four extra hands. The boys carried the large cooler box I had in the back. Normally I would empty it a couple of bags at a time.

After turning on the air conditioner so the house would cool down I went back out to the garage with the boys.

"I'm sure there's a water container over here." I said pushing between some boxed up winter linen on one side of the garage that hadn't been unpacked from our recent move.

I bent down to move a horse rug when I was pulled backwards rapidly by the shirt. Buttons flew off and I cried out in shock as I landed on my bottom. I was about to give Paddy a mouthful of abuse when I saw Stefan step forward with an old shovel we kept leaning near the door. He brought it down sharply on the head of an eastern brown snake not two centimetres from where my foot had been. The snake reared back but Stefan hammered him again and again until he wriggled no more.

"Oh shit," I muttered as Stefan removed the dead animals carcass.

Justin was always telling me to shut the garage door. Snakes love the cool concrete on a hot summers day. Paddy got the twenty litre container then came over and helped me to my feet. I realised my shirt was gaping open exposing my bra and midriff. I pulled it closed and held it tightly.

"Do we get the water inside?" Stefan asked.

"Yes, yes of course. Sorry." I tried to get my head together as we walked back inside the house. I pointed to a door off to the left of the entrance. "The laundry would be the best place to fill it up."

Stefan took the container off Paddy and went towards the laundry. Paddy put his hands on my shoulders and steered me to the kitchen.

"You need a cup of tea." He said as he pushed down onto one of the kitchen chairs.

"I don't drink tea but I'd kill for a beer." I replied looking at my shaking hands.

He opened the fridge and passed me a bottle. I was having trouble getting the lid off so he took it off me and opened it before passing it back.

"Thanks," I mumbled taking a swig before putting it on the table.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah... yes. It's just a bit of a shock. What if you hadn't been here?"

"Then you wouldn't have been looking for a water container." Paddy said as he moved behind me.

I felt his hands on my shoulders. "Just relax." He crooned, "concentrate on your breathing."

His hands worked on the knotted muscles in my neck and shoulders. I took deep slow breaths until I felt calmer. His hands felt so good. Occasionally they slipped inside my collar and caressed the bare skin close to my neck. Then one went lower, parting my torn shirt and skirting the top of my breasts. I should have stopped him. I knew where it was heading. Maybe it was the shock... maybe it was my inner slut. She'd been in hibernation for nine years.

Both hands pushed down inside my shirt. They cupped each breast, gently squeezing while the thumbs teased my nipples. My breathing was far from relaxed now as I felt the familiar stirrings that I thought had been consigned to history. Sanity briefly returned as I closed my hands over his and removed them from inside my shirt. Paddy stepped around to the side of the chair and gently turned my head towards where he was standing.

There right in front of my face was a bare naked cock. It wasn't big, no more than average but it was as hard as steel. The engorged head pulsed as pre cum oozed from the slit. I should have pushed him away, I should have punched him in his arrogant balls. Did I have slut tattooed on my forehead? I did neither. As the hand behind my head pulled forward I opened wide took this stranger's cock in mouth.

Instinct took over. In one minute I could tell he was ready to cum. I sucked harder and swallowed as he shot streams of cum down my throat. When he'd finished I let him slip from my mouth. Another hand turned my head one eighty degrees. An uncut thick Danish cock hit my chin. Without hesitation I gave it the same treatment. He lasted longer and played with my tits as I slurped on his rod. The end came with another thick load of cum spurting in my mouth.

The fog cleared as Paddy attempted to lift me from the chair and bend me over the table. He was completely naked, his cock once again hard as it jutted out in front of him. I pushed him away telling him to stop but he persisted. My anger flashed so I twisted from his grasp lifting my knee into his balls. He crumpled to the floor clutching his privates.

"You've had your reward. Get dressed and I'll take you back to your vehicle." I was about step around Paddy's prone form when he rolled onto his back. I put my foot on his throat instead. "Tell one soul what transpired here today and I'll make sure you regret it." I hissed as I applied some pressure.

I detected surprise and fear in his eyes so I stepped away and left the room. After changing my shirt I went to the bathroom and rinsed out my mouth. I splashed cold water on my face before checking out my reflection in the mirror.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" I whispered to myself. "You're not twenty one and single anymore." I splashed my face again as if trying to wash away the guilt before looking at my reflection again. "Alright. Get a grip. In two hours those two could be two hundred kilometres away. In a few months they'll be on the other side of the world. Get them back to their ute then get on with your life."

I did an extra button up on my shirt so I wasn't showing even a hint of skin then went back to the kitchen. I was feeling better, this afternoon had obviously been an aberration.The boys weren't in the kitchen. I found them in the garage standing nervously beside the Landcruiser. I got in without saying a word and they did the same. Twenty minutes later I was back in the garage alone. I put the empty water container back where I'd found it and went inside to prepare dinner.

At six o'clock I was ferrying the dinner I'd made to the passenger seat of the fuel truck. Earlier I'd put four thousand litres in the tanker so I could fill everything up. I jumped in and hit the starter. The old diesel motor rumbled to life, purring quietly as I watched the air pressure rise on the gauges. The two way radio crackled to life.

"Are you on channel Lisa?" My husband's distorted voice crackled through the speakers.

"Yes Jus,"

"We've got a few more for dinner. Dad found a contractor who is going to give us a day with his two harvesters."

"How many?" A greasy feeling of unease settled in my stomach.

"Four guys. They won't need fuel till tomorrow so you just need more food."

Shit, surely it couldn't be them I thought. "A bit more notice would be nice. I was just leaving." I snapped into the handset.

CharlieB4
CharlieB4
1,219 Followers