Joe in Oak Valley Ch. 1

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Country carpenter Joe meets rich, pretentious Cynthia.
10.7k words
4.67
98.7k
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 03/17/2002
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* * * * *

The blue pickup slowly drove down through the hills toward Oak Valley. The instructions rested on the bench seat beside him and he followed them carefully. It was nice of Ben Watts to recommend him for this work. The people in Oak Valley reeked of money. They had more money in one of their houses than all the houses in his hills put together. But, Joe Woodson didn't begrudge them their money. They worked hard for it and as long as they paid him what he was worth, he was happy they had their money.

Joe had worked in the valley before. Actually, he had lived in the valley and performed his duties as a woodworker in one of the shops on the edge of the mountains He had made cabinets in the winter and framed houses in the summer. It was his wife, a psychologist, who made the money in the family and afforded them their 3,000 square foot home with the swimming pool and the membership to the golf and tennis club.

Joe had been at work when a tractor-trailer truck bumped a mini-van and jumped the guardrail, crossing the median and ramming into a 1993 green Mazda. Joe's wife was in the passenger seat of the Mazda and died instantly. Joe and his wife had neglected her life insurance policy and sadly, Joe had to give their house back to the mortgage company. Fortunately, the cabin in the woods was paid for and Joe sold off most of their furniture to downsize into the small 3 room cabin that used a wood stove for heat.

Joe turned off the highway and wound the big pickup around the sharp corners that separated Oak Valley from the bigger communities. Joe's eyes roamed from huge house to huge house. Clearly most of these houses were mansions anywhere else. All the houses were respectfully planted among the trees and beautifully manicured shrubs and lawns. The lots of land were all at least 1 acre in an area where finding 1/4 acre was rare.

The gravel driveway to his right led up a tight winding path wide enough for one vehicle. Joe drove up past the oak trees and evergreen lined walkways. As he turned the corner, the small white building took his breath away. It was an old meeting house/Church. Judging from the architecture and the turned railings, it had to be at least 250 years old. The skill of the old carpenters was thrilling to behold for Joe. The corner cuts were perfect even so many years later. The windows were original hand blown glass and though the porch creaked as he walked in, it gave the building character.

He knocked and entered to find old green painted pews arrayed left and right within the large hall that used to be a Congregational Church sanctuary. He heard a noise to his left and noticed a woman trying to move a heavy bench against the back wall.

"Excuse me, Ma'am" Joe softly called out. "Do you need some help?"

She looked up and smiled. It was a type of smile that Joe had not expected in Oak Valley - a genuine and caring smile. "Sure!" she replied with a modest Boston accent. She wore a gray sweatshirt with the letters A & F, black sweatpants, and New Balance sneakers. Her dark hair was piled up on her head under a Boston Red Sox baseball cap. Maybe she was 30 years old he thought. Joe helped her move the bench to the wall.

When the bench reached the wall, she promptly smiled and thrust out her hand. "I'm Cynthia Austin. Are you Joe?"

Joe reached out his big paw and took her tiny hand in hers, shook once and nodded with a smile.

"Good then" and she gave him his instructions on the wood work that required repair.

He stood there watching her instruct him on what he was to do. His thin face painted a picture of pain and lost love and she could feel it. His legs were muscular and his arms showed thick and knotted muscles right through the old and tattered Virginia State sweatshirt. His hair was in a blonde ponytail out of the back of his green John Deer cap. Cynthia sensed the sadness and pain that dulled his brown eyes and she wondered when he was the last time he was happy.

She shook her head as if to clear her mind of distracting thoughts and moved forward to where the altar used to be. "We used to have an altar here about 100 years ago when it was a Church. Now, only the Oak Valley Women's Club meets here."

He looked at where the altar used to be and then back at her. Her eyes were like a pin wheel maze and he felt that if he looked for just a short time, he would lose all ability to focus. Her blue eyes were edged by India Ink black that captivated him. He looked away. "What needs to be done?"

"We need a new lectern built that will fit over this hole in the floor." She smiled at him again and stepped around the hole.

Nice teeth - he thought. Losing his mind in her eyes, he said, "Why not buy one? It would be cheaper than having one custom built"

She smiled, but it wasn't a kind smile anymore. "Joe" She paused "Do you see anything cheap in this building? Do you see anything mass-produced? Is there any object in this room that is not a period piece or at least hand made?" another pause "Do you??"

Joe looked around as if he was really going to answer her question. Her confidence and in some way, her arrogance had reduced him to a small child being scolded for not having common sense. "No Ma'am".

"Here are the plans for the lectern and a spec sheet for the necessary work above the windows. Additionally, at the bottom of the page … "she pointed her finger "there … and … there, are the prices we'll pay for the work."

He nodded as he looked over the prices, but in his mind he replayed her finger pointing at the page. The fingernail was manicured beautifully and painted a light peach. "The prices are fine" he spoke with a rasp in his voice as he realized the number was 3 times what he would have normally charged.

*****

Cynthia left, but returned a short while later at lunch time. Joe marveled at the transformation. Kneeling on the floor, he looked up without staring. Gone were the sweatshirt, sweatpants and sneakers. She had changed into a conservative, dark blue, business suit. The hat was gone in favor of a classic bun that held her long hair on top of her head. She looked ready to host the evening news.

The look of surprise showed on Joe's face and Cynthia smiled a quick smile at her effect on men.

Joe wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead, "I've cleared out the rotted wood above the windows and I was just about to get an order ready for the lumber mill for the lectern and the replacement wood."

She walked by him, "No need, I've already ordered the wood and it should be here by 1:00pm." She checked her watch while Joe checked her legs. They were long, smooth and a little muscular. If he knew more about women's apparel, he would have noticed that she wore silk stockings from Italy to go with the blue classic Italian pump heels. To Joe's disappointment, her skirt extended below her knee.

Still kneeling on the floor, he asked, "How'd you know how much to get?"

She smiled and touched her cheek. "I measured it!" She paused a second. "I have a meeting with my husband's board this afternoon, an aerobics class at 4:00pm, and a reception tonight at 8:00pm." She kneeled in front of him with her legs closed tightly giving him no hope for a view. "Here is the key. Please lock up when you leave and I'll see you tomorrow morning after my kids go to school".

Joe smiled. She certainly was a bundle of energy. "You take aerobics?"

She smiled back. "No, I teach aerobics". She turned and began to walk away.

Joe called out "How many kids?"

Without turning her head, she called back "TWO" and left through the front door.

Joe watched her walk out to her Jaguar. Her hips swayed beneath her suit. Wow - he thought.

*****

THE NEXT AFTERNOON

"How was your meeting? The aerobics class and the reception?" Joe asked hoping that he had remembered it all.

Cynthia smiled at his cleverness. "They were all fine. In the meeting, we agreed to sell the company. The aerobics class got out all my frustrations and the reception was for my husband who couldn't make it."

"Why not" asked Joe as he hammered a board in above the window.

She looked up and noted the muscles in his arms. "He commutes to Atlanta Georgia every week. That will be ending soon." There was warmness between her thighs that hadn't been there in a very long time. "It ends when we get our divorce."

"Oh, I'm so sorry" Joe spoke quietly.

"No reason for sorry" She smiled brightly, "He fooled around, I caught him, half of everything he earned is now mine and I deserve it." She paused and looked at the oriental runner on the floor in front of her. "We hadn't been in love for a very long time, if we ever really were in love."

.Joe thought she sounded rather ruthless.

Cynthia handed another board up to Joe as he teetered on the ladder.

She took her hair out of the bun and let her brown hair flow down across her shoulders in gentle curls. The early afternoon sunshine teased her hair color to an auburn flavor that captured Joe almost as much as her blue eyes. Her deep blue sweater clung to her ample bosom, meeting her neatly pressed blue jeans at her slim hips.

"That is sad" he spoke between strikes of his hammer.

"Yes, a pity. My kids are young and they have rich parents who spend no time with them. The baby sitter spends more time and has more effect on my kids than I do." Sadness crept into her voice.

Joe looked down and was surprised by her frankness. She must definitely be from Boston - he thought. He climbed down from the ladder and stood next to her. Their faces were close as he leaned in to pick up another board.

He kissed her. It was a brush on the cheek with his lips, but it was a kiss nonetheless. She looked into his eyes and he looked right back to her soul and then she slapped him.

"Kiss me again and I'll break your face" she spoke with startling agitation.

He reached out to apologize but she thought he was reaching for her breast. Joe didn't know what happened but in a moment, this petite woman had his face on the oriental runner with his hand behind his back and his fingers in serious pain. He felt the pain and heard the scream but couldn't believe that it had come from his mouth! Cynthia let him up.

"Don't ever touch" she said calmly and coolly.

Joe rubbed his pained hand and apologized. He needed the job and in reality, had no idea why he had kissed her. He went back to work and Cynthia left. Joe was surprised to find that he had a woody the size of the Empire State Building.

*****

Cynthia arrived home to find the kids and Sara, the baby sitter, playing in the basement. The kids rushed to see her and she hugged and kissed them. The night whizzed by and Cynthia changed into a dark green silk teddy. It had been a long time since she had worn this cute little outfit.

She liked how the fabric held her breasts. She remembered how her breasts and hips were smaller before kids and looked in the mirror as she headed for bed. She wondered why all those aerobic classes hadn't trimmed her breasts. The aerobics and especially the kickboxing had really trimmed her waist, which just accentuated her big breasts. She held them, lifted them, pressed them together and thought that it would be a long time before she'd let anybody play with her heart or these big titties again.

She sat on the edge of her bed and squeezed her nipples through the silk fabric …. Mmmm … that felt nice. That feeling hadn't happened in over a year. She ran her slender fingers through the valley of her breasts and opened the front of her teddy. The cloth buttons easily passed through the holes as her right hand found its way down to her mound. Her soft hair tickled in her fingers and it felt so nice.

"You can't be doing this … " a voice in her head called out "… masturbation is wrong, so wrong". Her left hand squeezed her left breast and the nipple hardened immediately. "No!" said the voice, "You're an upstanding woman of Oak Valley! You haven't masturbated since college!" Her hand squeezed it and then toyed with the nipple as her other hand twirled the pubic hair around and around. The voice came back "You are a member and leader of the Oak Valley Women's Society!"

A slight grin came across her full lips as her fingers moved to spread her pussy lips and find the heat. Cynthia leaned her head forward and licked her nipple and sucked it into her mouth. As her fingers entered her pussy, her head shot back into her pillow. "mmmmmmmmm this feellllllls soooooooooo nice! Why have I waited soooooo long to do this, again?" she asked herself.

Cynthia fingers spread her pussy lips and she reached out with her other hand to pleasure her clit. That little voice was gone now and lust had taken over. Cynthia's fingers plunged into her hole and came back soaked. She spread her juices all over her pussy soaking her clit. She rubbed it back and forth and felt a tingle start in her toes. She frigged it fast like a young horse mating for the first time. Back and forth her fingers flew and the tingle rose up through her legs. Faster and faster, up and down, her fingers flew and her clit hardened in response.

"Come on" she said out loud. "I need it and I need it now" she cried out, but she wasn't cumming. She felt the familiar feeling as it rose up her legs, but it abated before she had a chance to cum. "nooooooooooooo" she said with a ever quieter voice.

A tear formed in her eye and traveled down her cheek. "Why can't I cum?". She thought of her husband. She wondered if this was why he found comfort in another woman's arms? Was it her fault? Was she just a cold hearted bitch?

The voice came back to her … "Of course not, you are one of the elite! You are a rare catch. You were born into this valley, born into the money here and you deserve better than that worthless husband! After all, you are a member of the Oak Valley Woman's Society just like your mother before you! You are a beautiful woman and have a beautiful house and beautiful children! Who could need or want more?"

Cynthia looked around. She flipped her dark hair off her shoulders. She spied a hairbrush on the bureau. "No damn it" she said aloud. "What I need is a good fuck!".

She had the hairbrush in her hand and was back on the bed in less than a second. With the brush in her hand and the handle pointed at her pussy, the voice came back again, but she silenced it with a steady and forceful thrust of the handle into her soaked pussy. Mmmmm she moaned. "Much better" she thought and began working it in and out. After several thrusts, it made a sloshing sound and she began to feel the tingle in her toes again. Cynthia's juices trickled out of her pussy and down to her puckered asshole.

Cynthia needed an image. Someone to fuck her in her fantasy. She saw Joe. His strong arms holding her tight to him. His chest tight against hers. She began working her clit while still plunging the hairbrush. The tingle moved up her legs. She imagined him laying her down on the pews in the Meeting House.

She plunged the hairbrush harder and faster, her breathing coming in gulps, and her breasts heaving and wobbling. Cynthia imagined Joe standing in front of her and ripping off his shirt and exposing his hair filled chest. Next, he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. Pulling them down, she saw his cock slip out of his shorts.

She closed her eyes to make the fantasy more real … she could feel her cum rising up to her. She could see Joe in her mind as he lowered his shorts revealing his hard cock. It seemed familiar. It was very familiar and she raised her eyes, but saw no chest hair. She didn't see Joe, either. It was her husband and her climax faded away again.

Frustrated, she threw the hairbrush at the bureau. It missed and hit the mirror above the bureau shattering the mirror into several pieces. She climbed under the covers and turned out her light. She noticed that the door was cracked open but she thought that she had closed it. How could she be so careless?

*** ****

The next morning, Cynthia found herself working closely with Joe at the Oak Valley Meeting House. It was a warm day for January and Joe wore a cut off T-shirt. She really wished he hadn't worn such a revealing shirt. It was just plain inappropriate for a man to be dressed so brazenly sexy like that. He had brought several heavy duty tools from home and worked intently on the lecturn.

Cynthia was pretty happy with his progress and had put "the kiss", really an innocent peck on the check, behind her, buried deep in the recesses of her mind. She brushed the hair back from her face as she got him the glue and the nails he requested from across the room.

Joe watched her walk. It wasn't a walk, it was a swish, left and right. Her legs flowed flawlessly up to her tight ass. "Too bad her ass is hidden behind all those preppy clothes" Joe thought.

Cynthia turned and saw him looking and tried to ignore his glance. She got the next tool he needed and returned. Joe kept his head down in his work as she walked back. Cynthia carefully examined and memorized Joe's stomach. The muscles bulged and there was a light trail of dark hair leading down to the top of his blue jeans. She felt her pussy quiver. "Stop it! This is ridiculous! I'm thinking like a total slut!" she thought.

Joe looked up and their eyes met. Cynthia smiled and then stepped away to sweep up some sawdust.

Joe yelled "Ah SHIT!". Cynthia turned to see blood squirting out of the hip of his blue jeans. He had lost his concentration looking at Cynthia and misfired his brad stapler gun and shot it into his hip.

His blue jeans were ripped on the side and the blood was making a little pool beside him as he writhed in pain. Cynthia was there in a moment and was trying to examine the wound but Joe pushed her away.

"Damn it, Joe, let me see where it is cut!" she yelled at him. This finally got his attention and he lay on his back.

She looked at his ripped jeans and couldn't see anything. "We need to get you to a hospital" she said softly. Her lips pursed in concern.

"No, I can't, I have no health insurance" Joe spoke numbly.

This was unfathomable to Cynthia. She wasn't sure what to do. She had taken basic first aid in college and followed that up with different basic health courses, but she wasn't a doctor! "Take off your pants!" It just blurted out and she couldn't help it.

"What?" Joe stuttered.

"Umm, you heard me, how do you expect me to check your wound if your jeans are in the way?"

Joe unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans and lowered his zipper. Cynthia found herself holding her breath as he arched his back and lowered his jeans down to his knees. He wore boxers underneath and they were also in the way of his hip. "Take off the boxers, too"

"Oh come on!" Joe grunted. The pain was subsiding and though the thought of being naked in front of this beautiful woman pleased him, this wasn't sensual, this was embarrassing! He slowly lowered his boxers.

Cynthia expertly examined his wound. It was a nasty gash approximately 3 to 4 inches long and perhaps an inch deep. The brad was no where to be seen as it had sliced him without full penetration. The blood continued to slowly pour out. Cynthia ripped Joe's shirt and pressed it against the gash in his leg. She needed something elastic to hold Joe's shirt against the gash and stop the bleeding but what?

Joe felt faint and lay back on the floor only able to glance at the beautiful woman tending to his wound. She was looking around while pressing his shirt against his leg. His eyes felt dim and he watched in amazement as she lifted up her shirt and stripped off her bra. He wondered if he was dreaming as he saw her heavy breasts slide out from her white bra and hang there for a long instant. Her areolas were 3 inches across and dark brown. In the center … he felt his mind fade a bit … in the center were thick, long brown nipples … and then his eyes closed as he thought how nice it would be to suck those nipples … and he faded away and passed out.