by Liam Ward
“What’d you study in college?” Wayne asked me.
“Industrial Design. I worked at a kitchenware maker in Chicago, but when I moved back here, after a few months of job hunting, I just took the first job that paid enough. I’ll admit that I’m getting bored working in accounts receivable,” I said.
“Are there design jobs around here?” Wayne asked.
“Not really. No,” I said.
“Do you think you’ll move to find one?” Wayne asked.
It was something that I often considered. Most of me didn’t want to leave my nearly paid-off house and the area’s low-cost of living. I’d put humdrum security before passion. But I was open to the idea of moving. “I think I’d be willing to move for a job in design. I’ve been hoping that a position will open up at my current company. That would simplify everything,” I said.
“That would be nice. Regardless, as long as you’re looking, I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for,” Wayne said. His smile turned me on.
I had just taken a bite of chili when I heard my phone vibrating on the kitchen counter. I excused myself from the table and hurried into the kitchen to answer it. It was a number that I didn’t recognize.
“Hello.” I said.
“Your car is running. You gonna pick it up, or you want me to drop it off?” the gruff voice said.
“Umm, can you drop it off?” I asked.
“It’ll be extra,” the voice said. It sounded like the creepy man with heat-seeking eyes who had been working behind the auto shop’s counter.
“That’s fine,” I said.
“What’s your address?” he asked.
I turned and walked back into dining room. No one had excused themselves from the table. Everyone looked to me.
“Pardon me. What is your address?” I asked the room but looked at Wayne.
“8822 North Blue Bear Trail,” Wayne said.
I retreated into the kitchen to conclude the call. I already felt rude for interrupting the dinner.
“8822 North Blue Bear Trail,” I repeated into the phone.
“Okay we’ll drop her off in about 15 minutes. I do accept cash or credit,” the mechanic said.
“Thanks. It’s the first house off the pavement with a long dirt drive,” I said.
“Gotcha,” the man said.
“Thanks,” I said and hung up the phone. I slipped my phone into my pocket and walked back into the dining room.
As I rounded the table, I noticed that everyone’s bowl was empty, save for mine. I took my seat.
“They’re dropping your car off?” Wayne asked.
“Yea, in about 15 minutes,” I said.
Wayne nodded. He looked worried; he knew that our time together was running out.
It took me a moment, but I did eventually realize that the family was waiting on me to finish my food before anyone could be dismissed from the dinner table. I shoveled spoonful after spoonful of chili into my mouth. Finally, my bowl was clean. I hoped that my white shirt and face had remained unsplattered.
“Thank you for dinner. It was wonderful,” I said to Christine and Hannes.
“You’re welcome,” Christine said.
Hannes nodded at me. “I’ve got to get back out to the garden. It’ll be nice now that the sun has gone down a bit. It was nice to meet you Mary,” Hannes said and excused himself from the table.
“It was nice meeting you too,” I said.
Wayne’s sisters helped their mother clear the table. I stood to help as well, but Christine put a hand on my shoulder and told me not to worry.
The table and room had been cleared. For a moment, Wayne and I were alone. I had to figure out a discreet way to slip my number to Wayne. I thought Christine would think of me as a predator if she heard me asking for her son’s number. Wayne smiled at me and I returned his smile.
And then Wayne popped my bubble.
“What’s your number,” Wayne said, making no effort to muffle his voice. I was sure that his mother could hear him from the kitchen.
My heart raced. I glanced towards the kitchen and was relieved to find that Christine had not come stomping into the dining room. Wayne took his phone from his pocket and opened a blank text. He looked to me.
My voice wavered as I recited my phone number. Wayne’s powerful hand pounded my number into his phone. Wayne sat back in his chair and typed something else out. He put his phone back into his pocket and grinned at me.
My pants’ pocket vibrated like a plane touching down on the runway. Wayne put his hand on my knee and I felt like I was going to melt out of my chair. His large hand wrapped around most of my leg.
Knowing that a future existed with Wayne made all well.
“Thanks for coming Mary. It was nice to meet you,” Christine said from the kitchen’s threshold.
My back stiffened and I turned to face Wayne’s mother. Wayne tried to remove his hand from my leg in a sly manner while Christine watched.
“Thanks for having me Christine,” I said.
“Is Wayne pestering you?” she asked.
“Nope,” I said, unsure of how I could diffuse the situation. “He’s a gentleman,” I added. Wayne’s large body had not shrunken or shied away from me.
“Yea?” Christine said in a sarcastic manner.
“My mother raised me right,” Wayne said and grinned.
His mother couldn’t help but smile. “I hope so,” Christine said. “She’s had a hard enough day Wayne, try not to be a pest,” she added.
If this is Wayne being a pest, then I want him to burrow into me like a termite into structural timber.
“I’ll do my best,” Wayne said.
Christine uncrossed her arms and left the dining room.
Wayne put his hand on my leg. “Let’s go outside,” he said. He stood from his chair and towered over me. The crotch of his trousers hung in front of my face. His hands reached out for mine. I took them and he pulled me up from my seat. It was obvious that Wayne would have no problem slinging me over his shoulder. He could take me wherever he wanted, but he led me outside to wait for my car.
His sister Rebecca had returned to the front porch to continue her reading, so we kept our chat clean. Wayne pointed to outbuildings and animal pens. He described aspects of farm life that were unfamiliar to me. I could listen to him talk all day. He was intelligent and articulate like an old soul.
Being that it was Thursday, I had considered setting up a date with Wayne during the weekend, but I had decided that it may be too soon. Instead, I’d text him all weekend and try to set something up next week. He would have to break it to his mother that he was seeing me. That worried me.
We saw my car at the end of Wayne’s driveway. An old truck followed my car up the drive. The mechanic in my car tore down the dirt path towards the house at a high speed. I couldn’t believe how bold the mechanic was; he drove my nice car recklessly in front of me. I would have had some choice words for him, had Wayne not scooped me up into his arms. My boobs pressed against his chest.
I forgot about the presence of his little sister, reached my arms around Wayne’s neck, and we kissed passionately until I heard the door of my car open.
“You better text me back,” Wayne said before he released me from his embrace.
“I will,” I said and walked away from him. I felt that the day had been the most productive day of my life.
I thanked the mechanic for driving my car to me. He was the same man who had waited on Wayne and me earlier. He was probably more thankful than I, for he had received another opportunity to ogle my boobs while he ran my credit card.
I didn’t care.
I got in my car. It reeked of cigarette smoke and sweat, which had been left behind by the mechanic’s clothes. Wayne still stood on the porch watching me. I smiled and blew him a kiss through my car’s windshield.
My car started successfully, but I wanted to stay with Wayne. I told myself that I’d see him again and put my car into reverse.
; Chapter Eight - Wayne
It was Monday morning. I was blue-balled and horny beyond belief.
After having spent all weekend texting each other, Mary added me on Snapchat the prior night and we sent a lot of pictures back and forth. Mary had casually begun to show more of her wonderful body to me. The last picture that she had sent me was of her in bed with a red blanket pulled up just high enough to conceal her nipples; Good night cutie, the picture had read; there was no way I could sleep after seeing Mary like that.
Talking to Mary was effortless. Granted, our relationship was new and we had a lot to talk about with each other; however, I don’t think novelty was the only reason that we were able to keep the conversation flowing. Mary and I had an oddly powerful connection. Not much had been said during our buggy ride together, yet we knew that we wanted each other, and not just sexually.
I wondered if Mary desired me as much as I desired her. Probably not. There was no possible way she could understand how hungry I was for her body. Her beauty held immense power over me. I wanted to kiss the bottoms of her feet and insides of her thighs. I needed to feel her large soft tits squeeze between my fingers.
The thought gave me an incredibly stiff erection. I threw my bed covers back and stood. My windows were open and my bedroom had been chilled from the night’s air. As I walked to my dresser to grab boxers, my dick bounced up and down.
I was lucky enough to have my own room — I always slept naked.
I opened my top dresser drawer, grabbed a pair of boxers and stepped into them. Before I pulled my boxers up completely, I couldn’t help but grab my shaft and give it a few slow tugs. It felt good. I imagined pushing into Mary and feeling her wetness on my cock.
Somehow, I stopped playing with myself, pulled my boxers up, and slipped on my trousers. Once dressed, I emerged into our upstairs hallway and walked down the narrow wooden staircase. I knew that my father had already been up for a few hours and was likely tending to the cows. I felt guilty about not getting up sooner to help him, but I was tired and felt that I needed another hour.
I hurried to the fridge and pulled out the glass container that held our yogurt. I scooped myself out a large bowl and grabbed a jar of preserves from the cabinet. The prior year’s blackberries were large and sweet. We picked as many as we could. They made delicious preserves that’d be enjoyed year-round.
I topped my yogurt with the blackberry jam and sat at the kitchen table to eat.
The house was quiet. My mother had taken the girls to town for school. They always took off early on Mondays so that they could get breakfast at the bakery. My father and I used Roma and the buggy whenever possible, so that my mother and the girls could use our minivan. It wasn’t the most reliable vehicle, but it served its purpose and we were lucky to have what we had.
I took my phone out and placed it on the table next to my bowl.
Seeing a new name in my texts felt amazing. We had stopped texting early last night, and switched to Snapchat, but I still wanted to scroll back through the messages. As I scooped yogurt into my mouth, I brushed up on what I had learned about Mary. She had an old dog that still lived at her parent’s house and she had always wanted a pet bird. Mary wanted to help me build my new chicken coop. She also wanted to go camping before the end of summer. I considered suggesting camping for our first date, though that wouldn’t have been much different than asking her outright to sleep with me.
She had sent a picture of herself wearing a colorful sundress and tending to a little garden behind her home. She looked fantastic. Mary had shown me the outside of her house. It was a modest ranch style home, which had grey siding and a black metal roof. I found it to be quite impressive; I didn’t know of any other single, female homeowners.
I emptied my bowl of yogurt, cleaned it in the kitchen sink and put it on the dish rack to dry. I grabbed my hat off its hook and pushed the screen door open.
The sky was mostly lit and the day was destined to be hot. It had rained the prior night and the air felt humid. Father had said that a load of stone was going to be dropped off near our new barn’s front door and that I’d have to shovel it. Our tractor had turned the barn’s entrance into a mud pit.
I walked around the house and into the backyard. The well-kempt backyard was centered on a firepit and ring of wooden chairs. Beyond it were two fields of alfalfa, which were divided by a path of cut grass and two dirt tracks that led to the new barn.
It was a short walk to the barn but I had already started to sweat. The barn was cool and smelled sweet. A clean concrete floor led to my father’s work room — I could see that it was lit. The room housed most of our dairy equipment and was where we sanitized everything. My father was at his work bench near the sink. He was disassembling a cream separator and dropping its pieces into the stainless steel sink.
“Morning,” I said to him.
He turned towards me. His belly hung over his pants a little and the front of his white shirt was wet from leaning against the sink.
“Morning,” he said. He continued his task. “You up late?”
“Yes,” I said. There was no point in lying.
“Talking to Mary?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Wayne. She’s a nice woman and she’s pretty, but she’s nearly your mother’s age, and I don’t mean that as an insult to your mother or me. Your mother suspected that something was up between you two. I know you want her, but I don’t want her taking advantage of you,” he said.
“Take advantage of me?” I asked.
“Stealing your youth. You’re young. Got a lot of life ahead of you and a lot of young women to meet. Not that I want you philandering around. But I’d like to see you marry a beautiful young woman who’s your age,” my father said.
“Mary is beautiful dad. She… it’s way too early to be discussing marriage, but I enjoy talking to her more than I do girls my age,” I said.
“There are so many more girls for you to meet.”
“Where are they? I’m not going to college. I don’t talk to anyone from high school,” I said. I realized that what I had said sounded desperate. A choice made by a lack of choices — that was not how I felt about Mary. “Regardless, she’s pleasant to talk to. And she is not taking advantage of me. I want to talk to her.”
“I can’t make your decisions for you Wayne.” My father sighed. “Just don’t go getting her pregnant. I don’t think I could convince your mother to let the both of you and a baby stay here.”
“Mary owns her own home,” I said. It was an unnecessary jab.
My father looked at me. “Good, you might need it,” he said and chuckled.
I laughed with him. I assumed that we were done discussing Mary and I walked to the sink to begin helping my father clean the equipment.
“Glenn said that him and Charlette passed you and Mary in the buggy. He said that you two looked a little rushed,” my father said.
“We saw them. Not sure what he means by rushed,” I said.
“You two foolin around?”
“No,” I said, steady like a gunslinger’s breath.
Hannes Janson stared into my eyes. “I don’t believe you. I just don’t want you hurting Charlette’s feelings. She likes you,” my father said.
“I don’t want to hurt her feelings either. But I’ve never misled her,” I said. I’d choose Mary over Charlette any day, but I hated the thought of harming Charlette’s feelings.
“Just be careful. News travels fast around here,” father said. That was true. Our small community was quick to gossip and judge. Though, not all gossiping is bad; you need to know when there’s a thief or murder in your midst.
“I’ll be fine,” I said.
My father left the room. I took the chance to send Mary a text: Have a good day at work cutie.
I continued to clean the dairy equipment.
For our small size, our dairy was well-equipped and my father’s cheddar was award-winning.
The cleaning was nearly done
when I heard my father reenter the room.
“Check these out,” he said.
I turned towards him and squinted at what he held.
My father hated driving past stuffed trashcans. They often overflowed with broken tv’s, mattresses, and patio furniture. Old Hannes was a bit of a picker and he enjoyed stuffing the decent pieces of trash into our buggy. Honestly, it embarrassed me.
My father walked closer and I recognized what he was holding: two black, rubber tire-innertubes.
“They still hold air. How can people be so wasteful?” my father asked.
“What’re we going to use them for?” I asked.
“Not sure.”
“Actually, can I have those?” I asked.
“Why?”
“I need them for a date.”
Chapter Nine - Mary
My phone vibrated in my pocket, but I was unable to check it. I had just filled my mug with coffee and was listening to my coworker Josh describe recent negotiations with an aerospace manufacturer. He was kind of cute and was one of the few guys my age at Revolution Seating. Josh loved to talk and frequently caught me in the breakroom. I usually welcomed the distraction, but I knew that the text was likely Wayne’s and that was much more important to me. I concluded the conversation with Josh and slipped back to my desk. I felt my phone vibrate once more before I sat down.
Two messages from Wayne. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling; Have a good day at work cutie; the second text read, Do you want to float down the Au Sable River?
Float?
Floating was something that my high school friends had made fun of and I had adopted their opinion of it. Floating was what rednecks did with old tire inner tubes and stained coolers filled with cheap beer. Canoes and kayaks were built for these cold rivers, not tubes. I had never liked the idea of leaving my ass in the frigid stream. I feared the fish would nibble on my big fleshy rump.