Fertile Farm: 20 Erotic Farm Girl Collection

by Candy Quinn

  “That’d be great, Damien,” she said, her voice excited. “I can’t wait.”

  The next morning started off early as usual, but this time after breakfast Damien smiled and went to his bike to wait for her.

  “It’s a long drive, so don’t let your arms grow tired,” he cautioned her as he started up and began the long ride off to the shopping mall.

  It’d been a long time since Britney had found an opportunity to make it there. It was the biggest and last shopping opportunity short of the big city itself. But Damien seemed to have a solid idea of where to go, because he brought her to one of the newer stores she’d never been to before. Some French soundin’ name that made it seem like it’d be expensive.

  “I want you to pick out the prettiest damn dress you can find,” he declared as they came to a halt and parked.

  She was never very good at things like that. She always just picked out what was most practical other than her fine dresses for special occasions, and she never really cared for those. Simple white cotton filled most of her wardrobe, so she couldn’t help but be excited and a little nervous.

  They made their way in and immediately she felt out of place. The music was loud and thrummed through her veins, and everything seemed so flashy and high class. The sales associates were whip thin, and both wore a strained smile for her and a more lustful gaze for Damien.

  She ignored the pang of jealousy as she went to the wall, flipping idly through, not sure what she was really lookin’ for. Something that would wow Damien, show him she wasn’t just some simple farm girl or diner waitress. She wanted to look special.

  She bypassed the simple black dresses, finding more comfort in the softer colours, but that was what she was tryin’ to get away from, so she walked to another rack. Too neon. Too skimpy. Too childish.

  Sighing, she glanced back at him.

  Much to her relief, Damien wasn’t paying the clerks much mind. He looked a little bored of the whole shopping thing, but he offered her a smile of encouragement before he spoke up.

  “Nothin’ catching your eye, Britney?” he asked curiously, taking a look around the racks before he called out to the sales clerks.

  “Yes, sir? How may we help you?” they asked, their voices fawning in that way Britney knew from when one of her coworkers was overtly flirtin’ with a customer.

  “My girl here needs the prettiest damn dress you can fish up for her. I’m taking her out on a special excursion tonight, and I need you to go find a few choice ones for her to try on. Sky’s the limit,” he said firmly, meeting eyes with Britney the whole time.

  But she couldn’t hold his gaze for long, and quickly she was hiding her expression beneath blonde hair. Her smile could brighten up the night’s sky, but she was still too shy to share that with him, to share what his compliments and words truly meant to her.

  It touched her in a place she didn’t know she could be touched.

  “I’ll give you a moment’s peace to sort it out,” he said to Britney as he began to back up. “I’ll just take a smoke break then come back. No pressure, take your time, hun. And remember: anythin’ you want. Anything!” he said with a grin before he turned and left the store.

  She had to admit that with him gone, she felt a little less pressure, at least, and when one of the sales women came back with a handful of options, her excitement flared up again. In the change room, trying on one after another, she didn’t know what one to pick. It was so hard to tell in her bobby socks and her helmet tousled hair, how she’d really look in the dress.

  She discarded one after another into the maybe pile until she got to a pale dress with colourful flowers adorning the fabric. When she slid into it, it just... clicked. The bottom flared out as she spun before gathering loosely around her legs.

  Her hand went to her chest, though, hiding the newfound cleavage that popped out of it. The V-neck was severe, the halter gathering around her neck, and she had no idea if she’d even make it out of the dressing room let alone into the dance.

  She fastened the belt around her waist, though, and when she looked at herself, she looked like a different person. Someone fun and happy and sexy all at once.

  “How’s it going?” asked one of the sales associates and she was jarred back to reality.

  “I think this one’s good!” Britney said.

  “Come on out and we’ll have a look?”

  She was nervous, but she peeked out, and the sales woman looked... it was hard to say. Britney knew her outfit had done the job, though.

  “You’ll need a different bra,” she pointed out, and Britney felt another wave of embarrassment before nodding. “And do you have shoes? We have some really cute pin-up style heels.”

  “Uhm, yea, I need shoes.”

  By the time the sales woman came back and Britney found herself with a complete outfit, she could barely contain herself.

  Damien strolled on in, so casually confident as he looked her up and down. With a pointed whistle he showed his obvious approval.

  “Damn girl, that’s the one alright,” he said, one thumb hooked into his belt, dragging his waistline a little lower as he tongued the seam of his lower lip. “Now there won’t be no denyin’ that I’ve got the hottest damn date at the dance. Not that they could before.”

  Crass as ever, he let slip a few things there. The fact that he was billing it as a date first and foremost.

  It made her feel like flying. She couldn’t believe what he was saying, and his look of appreciation that hinted at something darker...

  Her stomach clenched with excitement, and she ran back to the dressing room, stripping out of it all. Did he actually like her? Is that what he was getting at this whole time? She wanted so desperately to believe that was true, but was terrified of it not being real.

  She got dressed once more, handing the various boxes to the woman and smiling at Damien shyly.

  “I forgot to check the price,” she admitted softly.

  “Ain’t nothin’ but a thing,” he said with a wink, touching his hand to the small of her back as he pulled out a fat stack of bills and let them drop to the counter. The kind of casual presentation of money she was not used to.

  The wide-eyed clerks hurried to wrap and package the items, then sort out the change.

  Damien put his arm back around Britney and walked her on out of the store. But it was then somethin’ real peculiar happened.

  “Big D?” came some man’s hoarse, cracked voice, and Britney saw a rather rough lookin’ man in a leather vest come headin’ on over. “Fuckin’ hell! It is you!” he cried and laughed.

  It was nobody Britney recognized, but the leather and his addressing Damien made it clear it was an acquaintance at least.

  Damien didn’t say a word but gave a long hard stare at the man as he held her close by his side.

  “Damien?” Britney said softly, her head tilted to the side as she clutched her gifts a little closer to her body. She didn’t know why the man gave her the creeps, but he did.

  Maybe it was the scabs on his arms. Or the busted up look he had, scars both old and new. He looked like he’d been into more fights than she could count, and if he won ‘em, he certainly never won ‘em unscathed.

  “Shit, I expected you’d be back in the city by now!” exclaimed the man, slow to notice Damien’s icy stare. “I guess you’re on the way there now huh, big night tonight and all,” he said with a grin, before his gaze went towards her, and a leer crossed his face.

  With a shrill whistle the rough lookin’ man made no effort to act respectable towards her.

  “Knew it had to be some pussy that pulled you away from the club, and damn it’s a fine one,” he said before Damien immediately untangled his arm about Britney and stepped forward.

  “Don’t you fuckin’ talk that way about her,” Damien growled in a voice she’d never heard from the man. A voice darker and more ominous than she even imagined her brooding Damien could conjure. The fact he punctuated it with a shove to the ot
her guy’s shoulder only made it all the worse.

  “The fuck, man?!” the guy cried out, looking so terribly offended by that, as if his words and actions were completely out of nowhere. As if disrespectin’ a lady to her face weren’t a thing worthy of mention let alone offense.

  Britney felt frozen in place, too afraid to even move. All she could do was cling to her goods as if they’d somehow shield her from the terrifying man, and the fear of what was to come. She’d never felt so afraid of someone before, especially not just seconds after meeting them.

  “Damien, let’s go,” she said, her voice still meek.

  Her words were lost amid the testosterone fueled confrontation though, and as rough as this new guy looked, Damien weren’t cowed and certainly weren’t backin’ down.

  “I don’t fuckin’ repeat myself,” Damien growled, shoulders wide as he edged closer to the man. He had a nice bit of height on the rough fella, but as big and strong as Damien was, this scarred man was bulky and built himself.

  “You need to fuckin’ calm yourself down, man,” the guy said through clenched teeth. “You wanna be nice to the guys who might have a gun at your back someday. And it’s just pussy after all,” he said, jabbing a finger at Damien’s chest.

  But Damien was havin’ none of it. He grabbed the man’s finger before he could jab twice and a loud, bone-breaking sound filled the air. It was enough to make Britney squeak in empathetic pain. But soon after, the new guy cried out and then punched Damien back in retaliation.

  It was too late then, it was on.

  “Nobody talks about her that fuckin’ way, you hear me?!” Damien bellowed, unfazed by the punch to the face he just took, still holdin’ the man’s broken finger.

  Damien head-butted the man, and another sick crunch filled the air. Another punch came at him, but Damien was quicker, jabbing his fist into the other guy’s kidney. It wasn’t enough to stop him from punching Damien, but it was enough to distract the blow.

  Britney had never seen anythin’ like it. Not even when that out-of-towner started a fight in the parking lot. These were two huge, ripped men, pounding into each other, and Damien never even flinched from the blows despite how much they must’ve hurt.

  She didn’t know what to do. Even if there were a sheriff or deputy around, she didn’t wanna get Damien in any trouble.

  “Damien!” she cried out, moving towards the scuffle, hoping that maybe she could break it up or at least distract them from their powerful punches.

  There was little she could do though but cry out for a return to reason once the two were slugging each other. Though she noticed across the parking lot a couple other big, brawny bikers were making their way over towards them.

  They didn’t intervene though, they watched as if the fight was something not meant to be interrupted. It only stopped when Damien beat the other guy down to his hands and knees, bloody and battered.

  “What the fuck you two fightin’ about?” asked one of the other two bikers in the lull.

  “That bitch of hi—” the beaten man’s words were cut off as Damien grabbed the back of his hair and slugged him once more, right across the jaw. The man’s body went limp after that and he hit the pavement before coughing and sputtering.

  Damien cracked his blood spattered fist and gave a deathly glare to the other two bikers.

  “Shit man, you made your point,” said one of the bikers as he knelt down to help the beaten guy up.

  “Lousy shit doesn’t know when to clam up,” said the other, as Damien kept a steady look at the others, asserting a quiet control over happenings after what he’d just done.

  It was a side of him Britney had never seen before, never even imagined. It was terrifying, yet at the same time, it was all to defend her against that crass creep’s words. Damien was sticking up for her, so why did she feel so shaken up?

  She reached out, tugging Damien’s coat like she was a kid trying to get their parent’s attention, her blue eyes wide and saucer like.

  “I wanna go,” she said, and her voice quivered.

  But Damien still wouldn’t budge. It wasn’t until the other three guys slunk away back to their bikes that he finally loosened up and turned with her back towards his own motorcycle.

  “Let’s get outta here,” he said in a low gruff voice, looking about the area, as if expecting further trouble.

  She was only too eager to comply. Her head was rushing and she thought she might faint at any second. She needed to sit down, to let what just happened sink in.

  “Who was that?” she asked, half afraid of the answer.

  “A scumbag,” he said curtly, taking her bag and stowing it before climbing atop the motorcycle. He wasted no time getting them going, and once they were cruising down the highway there was no more talking to be done over the noise.

  It had to be a good hour before Damien pulled them off the main road and took them down a quiet path she didn’t recognize. Home was still a nice long drive away, but he came to a stop in a grassy little area, secluded from the noise of the road.

  Once he shut off the bike he turned to peer back over his shoulder.

  “I owe you an explanation,” he said, and she could see that despite his victory, he’d taken some nicks and scrapes to his own ruggedly handsome face in the fight.

  The hum of the motorcycle had quieted her mind and her racing thoughts, but the second they were free to talk, her stomach tightened. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to know, but that was just fear talking. The idea that she really didn’t know him and that their time together had been little more than a farce scared her.

  Like it could all be taken away just like that.

  “Okay,” she managed as he rose off the bike and then pulled her up with him in a smooth, careful motion.

  “I know that must’ve been an ugly sight to see,” he said, his hard face contorted into one of sympathy. “You ain’t used to seein’ fellas slug it out like that over a woman. Or at all, I s’pose,” he conceded, taking a deep breath that made his chest swell up.

  She bit in on the corner of her mouth before giving him a little nod.

  “We should’ve just taken off,” she said.

  He reached out and placed his two hands upon her arms, holding her in his grasp lightly as he stared into her eyes.

  “That ain’t how things work with guys like them. Especially that piece of shit,” he said, just a little bit of his angry rumble eking back into his voice. “When he talked about you like that… well,” he betrayed a facial tick of irritation. “It didn’t just piss me off, it meant I had to do somethin’. Had to stake a claim to you, or else someday, if he came across you again… he might try somethin’. And get rough.” He sighed, “And with those guys, there’s only one way you stake a claim to a woman. It’s with brute force.”

  She gazed up at him as she listened, heard the hurt and anger in his voice that simmered just beneath the surface. She’d never seen nothin’ like that, and especially not over her. Some girls might be pleased to have a guy rush in and defend her like that, and thinkin’ back to the crude, horrible things that other man said it was hard to believe he didn’t deserve it.

  But seein’ what Damien could do scared her more than a little.

  “That all just seemed normal to you, Damien.”

  He stared at her a while, lettin’ more than her words sink in, but her worries. The expression on her face that said it all.

  “Look,” he began, licking his lips and letting his tough, broad posture soften a little, “I didn’t want you to see that. But even more, I didn’t want you to maybe run across him some time when I wasn’t around and have him try somethin’. I didn’t mean for you to see that side of me, Britney.”

  He looked so bothered by her having seen a taste of the tough guy as he was in the city. Like she’d caught him in some compromising position. Like they were kids again and she’d walked in on him doing something he really shouldn’t be.

  Her shoulders slumped as she took i
n a deep breath. It was strange, the war goin’ on within her. The feeling of security and fear, gratitude and worry, all swirlin’ within her bust.

  And she knew, if she’d run into that guy without Damien, she’d have been way more scared of him than she was of Damien. He’d never hurt her, not like that.

  “You used to have to do that a lot?”

  “No,” he said firmly. “Not that rough. Most men aren’t as stubborn as that piece of shit,” he said with a sigh. “But then you saw how many scars he had.”

  Damien reached out to grasp her shoulder and squeeze it gently.

  “I only did what I had to, to make sure that animal didn’t ever pose a threat to you. I know you live out in the country, but these guys… they do runs all over the place. And the thought that someday he might end up in your diner…” She could see him grinding his teeth in anger at the thought.

  She took in a deep breath. It was a lot to take in; him spoiling her to a new outfit followed by him beating up another man. And then they had that dance to go to...

  Should we still even go, she thought to herself before resting her head on his chest. He was comforting, even with his anger and his cuts and bruises from the few jabs the other man had gotten in.

  “We should head back.”

  Damien took his time, giving her a slow, firm embrace, his thick arm sliding up her back before he let her go.

  “Sure thing, Brit,” he said with a forced smile, obviously troubled by the turn of events. And how she’d gotten to see him at his worst.

  Damien did up his shirt with his battered hands as he caught sight of her in the mirror coming out of her room. His eyes instantly moved to her, soaking her in with an entranced gaze.

  “What?” she asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious and tugging at the fringes of the dress. “Is it no good?” She bit down upon her lower lip, feeling so anxious about it all on top of the earlier doubts.

  Damien turned and abandoned the last few buttons, leaving him half-dressed up, half exposing his sculpted, tattooed torso.