"One Good Deed..."

[MarieDavisRPs]

"One Good Deed..."

NOTE:
I am looking for a male partner.
PM first; don't post without permission.
Thanks a bunch!​

Marie had been raiding the little ranch nearly every day, ever since stumbling upon it almost three weeks ago. She never took much, though, not wanting the man and teenage boy living there to suspect that something was amiss. And she never visiting the farm unless she saw both of them heading out into the forest to check the snares they'd set there or go fishing in the nearby creek.

Her loot was generally what she hoped would be insignificant and unmissed by the pair. She typically took just a chicken egg, sometimes two; they had eight laying hens in total, but since not all of them laid each day, Marie hoped that her take would be written off as the result of aging chickens.

She often dug up some vegetables from the garden, too, and once even raided their root cellar. She lifted the front of her dress and filled it with potatoes, onions, and winter squash they'd harvested the previous season.

When she couldn't get to the coops or garden, she often filched from their snares.
She'd taken two rabbits and three squirrels over the past fifteen days. It was probably more than she should have taken, but resetting the snares each time had apparently left them satisfied that the traps simply weren't being visited by prey.

Marie had been very cautious but apparently not cautious enough. Today, she'd watched them head for the woods to the west, then hurried up to the chicken coop from the east to get breakfast. She found a still-warm egg under a hen she knew always performed and turned to leave, only to find herself face to face with the older of the two males.

She froze with a shocked look upon her face, and he simply stared at her with a similar expression. Marie was in fear for her life, of course; the world in which she'd grown up was a harsh one, with most people having little concern for the life of those not close to them. The man was holding a farming tool with which he could easily kill her, and Marie was certain she'd met her end.

Quickly, she threw the egg in her hand at the man's head, then reached into the laying rack with both hands and came out with chickens dangling by their necks. "Let me go, or I'll break their necks! Right now! Let me go right now, or they're dead!"

She knew that the violence she was threatening was significant; before the plague that had nearly rendered the Human Race extinct, two chickens had been something you casually bought at KFC to feed your friends when you'd invited them over for the ballgame. But a pair of laying hens today? They were like gold!

 

[KingOfNowhere]

Robert only began to suspect that he and his boy, Craig, had a thief in their midst when one of the unsprung snares had been reset backwards. After that, he began paying more attention to not just the forest traps but to the chicken coop, rabbit hutch, and root cellar.

That was when he found the tracks. Track, actually, singular. It was at the edge of the garden, all by its lonesome, as if the source of it had been being careful not to leave evidence but had missed this one.

"I forgot the new snare," Robert lied to Craig as soon as they entered the forest. Regarding the traps they were here to check, he told his son, "You know where they all are, right? Check'em, reset'em. Wait for me at that dead fall by the creek, and we'll do some fishing, too."

Robert headed back towards and stopped at the forest's edge, watching. A few minutes passed with nothing, and he began to think that maybe the intruder had moved on or perhaps the thefts weren't a daily occurrence.

Then, he saw it, not the thief, who hid his movement behind the coop but the thief's shadow, which was partially visible passing over the ground.

He waited until he was sure the intruder was inside the coop, then sprinted toward the structure. He snatched up a potato fork from the garden without slowing down and surged through the open pen door, raising what was now his weapon.

And that was when Robert found himself looking not at some male thief but at a female one instead.

He froze, just staring at her. He hadn't seen a woman since his wife passed away, what, a decade ago? And this was quite a woman: young, beautiful, shapely, with her button up shirt only partially buttoned, giving her some relief against the already hot morning sun.

His mind was going places it shouldn't have been, when suddenly he was dodging an egg she'd been admirably. A moment later she was threatening the life of two of his hens. In any other time, such an act would have been laughable. But these were very strange times.

"Take it easy," Robert told her, "Just take it easy. No one's gonna hurt you."

He let the potato fork's potentially deadly tines drop to the ground, sticking the tool a few inches into the dirt. "The only thing that's gonna get you hurt is if you hurt Belle or Yolanda. Those are the chickens flappin' around in your hands, Belle and Yolanda. If you don't let go of'em, the way you're handling'em, you might kill then accidentally, and I guarantee, you break one of their necks, and I'll break yours."

He waited a few seconds as she considered her options before asking, "You want me to cook you some eggs? I know you like eggs. You've been stealing them a while I reckon. Fried? Scrambled maybe?"

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

"Take it easy," the man told her as the chickens waggled about in her grasp. "Just take it easy. No one's gonna hurt you."

Marie looked past the man to the gate now blocked from her use, then looked behind her to the second one. It had a simple latch held shut by a bent nail, and she probably could have slammed her way through it. But the chances that she'd hurt herself were high, and the chance that the man would catch her anyway were even higher.

"The only thing that's gonna get you hurt..." he started, talking about the chickens who, to her surprise, had names. Then, after threatening to break her neck, he surprised her even further by inviting her to breakfast. "Fried? Scrambled maybe?"

He was joking. He had to be. He'd just caught her stealing his eggs and threatening the lives of Belle and Yolanda, and now he was going to feed her? It was a trick, to save the birds. She looked behind her again, then back. She smiled as she answered, "Fried, please."

Then, in a flash, she dropped one of the chickens to the ground, grabbed the other one less dangerously around the body, and threw it through the air directly at the man. It squawked and flapped crazily as Marie turned, rushed the second gate, and crashed through it. It hurt, as she'd expected, but she'd maintained her footing as she hadn't, and as fast as she could she took off running for the woods from which she'd come.

Marie didn't look back at all, knowing that that would only slow her down. Instead she just ran as hard and fast as she could until the reached and disappeared into the forest. Finally, after the longest time, she looked back, saw no one behind her, slowed, and stopped. She leaned over, putting her hands to her knees as she gasped for breath.

Then, surprising herself, Marie began laughing. What the hell had just happened? She should be dead; people in this new reality killed for less than what she'd been doing or did today. Did he realize just how much she'd stolen from him and his son? Did he realized how long she'd been doing it?

She turned and walked into the forest, contemplating the encounter and wondering, What're we eating today? She couldn't risk going after the guys' snares anymore, and the fishing creek was on the other side of the ranch from where she was. It was spring, and some of the mushrooms where breaking out of the soil or populating the dead and rotting trees. Mushrooms and little tweety birds, I guess.



Marie stood at the forest's edge for almost three hours, just watching the ranch from the shadows of the undergrowth. The man and his son had gone into the forest toward the snares again, but she didn't dare make another attempt at stealing from the farm. She waited until the sun was high in the sky and the men were out in the garden before she broke cover and began walking slowly toward the pair.

They caught sight of her almost immediately, moving closer to one another as they watched her approach. She stopped about a hundred feet from them, studying them a long moment, before finally asking, "Is the offer of breakfast still open?"

 

[KingOfNowhere]

"Dad" Craig said quietly, standing tall from his digging as he looked off toward the forest's edge. With almost a sense of panic he repeated louder, "Dad!"

"I see her, son," Robert said casually, rising from his knees and his planting. "It's okay, Craig. I've been expecting her."

Truthfully, he hadn't been sure whether or not the young thief would return. He also hadn't known whether if she did, it would be as a sneaking thief at night or possibly even with friends.

"Is that why you have your gun?" Craig asked, looking to the shotgun leaning against a green bean trellis. "Is she here to rob us?"

"No, son," Robert said softly as he wiped his hands free of dirt and casually walked closer to the firearm. He had decided not to tell Craig about the nature of the girl's visit the day before. "She's here for lunch."

Craig's face filled with confusion. He looked between his father and the slowly approaching girl, wondering how his father knew her and for how long he had. He wanted answers, and he would get them soon. But right now he was simply transfixed on the young woman.

She was the first human being Craig had seen in over five years and the first female he'd seen since his mother died over 9 years ago. He'd lived almost half of his 18 years without the sight of a member of the other gender, and now he couldn't seem to take his eyes off this very much younger version of a human being.

Craig's eyes took a walk over the newcomer's very different physique. He knew that boys and girls were made differently, of course; human physiology had been explained to him, and he'd seen his mother naked often, while the three family members bathed together in the stream.

Craig had even caught his parents making love on occasion. After being caught spying once, he'd been told that what they were doing was a private moment between parents and that he shouldn't watch. He still did, though, on occasion, and as he got older, it led to interesting activities down below his beltline.

Which, just now, was happening once again. Craig didn't understand why his penis was suddenly swollen hard as a rock; his father had talked to him once about erections, telling him it was natural and normal and nothing to be concerned about.

Craig had discovered that handling his erection in a certain way caused an interesting and very satisfying result. Again, his father had talked to him about that, after coming across Craig masturbating while checking the snares. Again, Robert had assured his son that it was natural and normal and nothing to be concerned about, or rather embarrassed about, as Craig had been that one day.

"It is a private thing, though, son," his father had said, adding, "and something you should do in private and after you are done with your work."

There was an irony in Craig's discussion with his father about pleasuring himself. Robert had meant for his son to limit how much time he spent beating off to ensure it didn't get in the way of his work. Instead, Craig had begun completing his work in less time, to allow him the spare minutes in which to find the only form of sexual release he was aware of.

There was another irony as well about the pleasure Craig received from stroking his own manhood: despite having watched his parents making love on half a dozen occasions, Craig hadn't truly come to realize the connection between making love and masturbation.

And while he still didn't realize it now, looking at this girl who was about to become a part of his life, Craig would make that realization soon enough.

"Is the offer of breakfast still open?" the visitor asked when she stopped a good distance away.

"Of course," Robert said with a friendly smile. He looked to his son, finding him entranced. Was it because Craig hadn't seen another person in years or because he'd never seen a girl in even longer? "Craig. Craig!"

The teen flinched and looked to his father with wide eyes. Robert's smile widened farther before he said, "Collect the eggs. And bring a couple'a dozen tiny potatoes in from the cellar."

Craig just stared at his father for a long moment; he wanted answers. But after Robert repeated his instructions, the teen ran off after giving the amazing girl another moment of study.

"Would you like to clean up?" Robert asked the girl. He turned and walked toward the nearby hand pump for the week he and his wife had dug two decades earlier. Looking back to the girl, he said, "My name is Robert. That was my son, Craig."

He hung a bucket and pumped the handle until the container was half filled with clear, clean water. He removed the bucket, set it on a nearby picnic style table he'd built, and said, "I'll get you a wash rag and towel."

He turned for the cabin, but as he did, he veered just a bit to one side to retrieve the shotgun. Without looking back for the girl's reaction to seeing the weapon, Robert continued onward. When he returned, he wouldn't have it any longer.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

(OOC: Thanks for letting me describe them. I am still trying to find two images I like. Keep looking yourself if you want. BTW, this note is being left here -- rather than sent in PM -- because someone already PMd me that they were reading along and wanted to know what the two men looked like, and I didn't have an answer.)


"Dad!"

Marie heard the younger man's second speaking of the older man's title, verifying what she'd thought about their relationship. She'd been born after the pandemic that nearly wiped out the Human Race, so she hadn't experienced its first stages personally. But her grandmother and maternal uncle, as well as her own mother, had lived through that horrific time period, and each of them had spoken to her about it on various occasions prior to each one of them being lost to her by one means or another.

The plague had been something called a coronavirus, but it had had a couple of very specific features that had made it different from anything Humans had seen before. First, it had been far more lethal, obviously; although Marie didn't know the numbers, there were fewer than 500 million people left on the planet. And second, there had been a genetic abnormality passed down through certain family lines that had made the members of these family's less susceptible to this particular virus. While all across the globe, the majority of people were dropping dead, some families endured with few if any losses.

From where she stopped a hundred feet away, Marie's attention moved back and forth between the two men. She could see the family resemblance between them, but at the same time she could see that they were very different men.

The father, at over 6 feet, was a good four inches taller than his son. He was also larger than his son, with wider shoulders, bulkier arms and legs, and a little bit of what Marie's grandmother had called winter insulation about the middle. But the father was in no way fat.

Honestly, he was very attractive, not just in his body but in his face, too. Marie had seen him smile to her the day before, and if she hadn't been so afraid for her life, she might have noticed how inviting it was. She noted that now, though, as his lips spread just enough to show good, white teeth surrounded by a few days hair growth on his face.

The son had that same face, though, Marie hadn't seen a smile on his lips as of yet. He was not just shorter but smaller as well; he wasn't puny at all, and from what she could see of him he seemed fit. He was simply smaller in most dimensions when compared to his father. His youth was seen in his face, with smooth skin that was free of hair, either because he hadn't begun growing it or had, unlike his father, very recently shaved.

"Of course," the man said after Marie asked if breakfast was still being offered. He looked to his son, saying, "Craig. Craig!"

Marie had to suppress a smile at the father's need to call out for his son's attention. She'd noticed, just as the older male was, that the younger one's gaze was making its way up and down her body. It would never have occurred to Marie that this young man hadn't seen another female -- particularly one so near his age -- in almost half as many years as he'd been alive. She assumed his ogling of her was simply because she was a girl, he was a boy, and he wanted to put his cock inside her.

She looked back to the father, wondering, Does he, too? Marie had contemplated that topic often since first running away from the ranch the day before. Marie knew men. She knew what they wanted from women; from her. Some had gotten what they wanted from her, and not always with her permission. But she'd survived those tragic times better than some women did; they'd made her stronger and, for some strange reason, had actually increased her desire to fuck over the years that came later.

To be honest, if someone was to ask her whether she thought she'd have to put out later to compensate the father for the offered breakfast, Marie would probably say that not only did she expect it, she welcomed it as well. Of course, if she'd only wanted to feel a man inside her again, she wouldn't have been stealing barely enough food to sustain her while living in the forest under a tarp; she would have just walked onto the farm in full view of this man and said I'll fuck you for food.

"Would you like to clean up?" the man asked, before telling her, "My name is Robert. That was my son, Craig."

Marie didn't immediately respond to the introductions, instead just watching him from the distance of thirty feet or so that had resulted from her walking slowly toward him. She looked past him and caught sight of the shotgun. She probably should have been concerned about seeing it now, after days of having never seen him with a firearm.

"I'll get you a wash rag and towel."

As he turned for the cabin, he retrieved the weapon. It was now that she called out to him, "My name is Marie."

He seemed pleased that she'd finally told him her name, and when he emerged from the cabin without the gun, Marie was pleased as well. She tensed up a bit as he got close, holding the rags out before him. He must have sensed it as well, as he stopped short and tossed the clothes onto the table near the bucket.

She found the smaller of the two towels, dipped it into the cold water, then looked to the older man as the younger one was passing by toward the cabin. "I can do this without help. Thank you, though."

Marie waited for him to give her some privacy, then washed her face, neck, arms, and hands. She further unbuttoned the front of her dress so that she could more easily clean her pits and shoved the rinsed out rag up there as well.

Out of the corner of her eye, she looked toward the cabin, wondering whether or not they might be spying on her. Marie was tempted to strip her dress off and maybe even her panties and bra to thoroughly clean her body. She knew that doing so would have one of two results: one or both of the men would be eager to give her anything and everything for which she asked in the hopes of putting their hands on and their cocks in her delicious body; or one or both of the men would give her nothing and simply take what he or they wanted, thinking she was just a vessel in which they were permitted to find their sexual delight.

Marie instead rinsed out the rag thoroughly and laid it out to dry, dabbed her wet places with the larger rag, and dumped the dirty water around the base of a nearby berry bush that was filling quickly with flowers. She buttoned her dress again -- this time fully -- and made her way into the cabin. She could already smell food cooking, and her stomach rolled over with excitement.

The boy was again staring at her with wide eyes. Marie traded ogles, not inconspicuously, before looking him in the eye with a flirty smile. She already knew that she could get just about anything she wanted from this young man, just by showing some leg or maybe even a nipple. But looking to Craig's father, Marie knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if she was going to be getting familiar with either one of them in an attempt to get something more from this place than an egg and fried potato breakfast, she was going to have to begin with him.

 

[KingOfNowhere]

(Good description of them, I approve.)


Craig was just coming up behind the young woman as she was telling his father, "My name is Marie."

"Nice to meet you, officially, I mean," Robert said.

She said about cleaning up, "I can do this without help. Thank you, though."

Robert gestured his son to follow him, took some of the half dozen or so eggs he was carefully clutching, and told her, "We'll get lunch started. Take your time."

As they were walking away, Craig looked back and his father chastised him. "Give the girl some privacy. I know she's something like you've never seen before, but you need to relax a bit before something explodes."

Craig didn't know what his father meant, but when Robert glanced toward his crotch and the erection that was all too obvious, the 18 year old's face exploded, in a blush that reached clear down into his neck.

"We'll talk about this and what's happening to you later, Craig," Robert said in his most understanding tone. "But this isn't the appropriate time."

Robert wasn't surprised in the least that his son was amazed, bewildered, and even excited by Marie's presence. After his wife's death and, therefore, the omission of the only female in either of their lives, Robert had never talked to Craig about sex, other than on the topic of masturbation. And honestly, that hadn't been what one would call sexual education, as Robert hadn't explained to his son that one day in the future, he might very well have the opportunity to put his cock inside anything other than his curled fingers.

And other than speaking to her son about her and her husband's private times -- emphasis on private -- Robert's wife, Vicki, had never spoken to Craig about sex because, at the time, his age had still been in the single digits. Really not appropriate. Craig had spied on them a few times, only some of which they'd been aware. But he'd been too young then to associate what he'd seen with what he'd eventually come to do with his own penis. In Craig's mind, there was no connection between what he'd witnessed and what he'd begun doing years later when he reached manhood.

Inside the cabin, Craig couldn't help but move up to one of the windows and look out upon the strange and exotic creature now running a wet rag over her body. Robert chastised him again about privacy and boundaries and put him to work slicing unpeeled potatoes for the frying pan. The father caught his son looking longingly toward the window several more times, smiling and suppressing his desire to laugh.

They still had a small amount of lard from the pig a mountain lion had critically injured over the winter, so by the time Marie was inside the cabin, the air was thick with the scent of burning animal. Robert asked, "Fried, scrambled?"

He looked up to find the two young people staring at each other. Marie had her back to Robert, but he could see his son's wide eyes as they were once again looking the girl up and down, up and down.

"Fried or scrambled," he asked again, getting his answer finally. "Scrambled it is."

As the two men continued cooking, Marie began wandering about surveying the traditional-style log cabin. It wasn't much, just a main room with a hearth, a dining area, some shelving and counters that amounted to a kitchen, and a separate, small, wood burning stove made of thin metal on top of which was a metal pot in which water was heating. A blanket hung from one of the log crossbeams, separating off a smell bed and some other furniture that amounted to being Craig's little bedroom.

Robert headed for a doorway across which was another blanket. Pulling it back, he gestured Marie to come look. Half of the space was a bedroom with a larger bed, covered by a quilt. "My wife, Vicki, she made that out first year here."

He pointed to another door off the bedroom, explaining, "There's a bathtub in there. We can fill it with hot water from the cook stove later if you want to take a bath. It's probably been a while, yes?"

Popping grease sounds lured Robert back to the fireplace, where he helped his son finish cooking while whispering to him again to stop staring at their guest. Finally finished, the meal was divided amongst mismatched plates and the three of them sat down. The meal went by quietly for a while until Craig suddenly asked, "Are you all alone? I mean, don't you have any--"

"Craig," Robert cut him off, knowing that this topic might not have the happiest of answers. Softly, he said, "Eat your food."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Marie found the log cabin appropriate for the two men. They seemed to have all they needed to be comfortable. Most of what she saw fell into two categories: pre-pandemic manufacture and post-pandemic hand crafted. One or both of the men was pretty handy with a carving knife and ax; one of both of them was knowledgeable in preserving foods, hides, and furs as well. That impressed Marie, who'd lived her entire life in scavenged clothes that were older than she was.

"My wife, Vicki, she made that out first year here," Robert said, gesturing to the beautiful quilt covering the bed.

Marie wanted to ask about his wife, but it was too early for such personal conversations. Still, was his mentioning of his wife an opening to such discussion? Marie decided that whether it was one or the other, she was going to let it go for the moment.

"There's a bathtub in there ... It's probably been a while, yes?"

"Do I smell that bad?" she asked, turning to show her playful smile. "Kidding. But yes, I'd love to take a hot bath."

They headed back to the living area and delved into the breakfast when Craig suddenly asked, "Are you all alone? I mean, don't you have any--"

Robert disciplined his son, but Marie wasn't put off by the question. Between bites of the delicious meal she explained. "I grew up with my grandmother, my mother, and my mother's brother, my uncle. We lived in a small town called Springfield, until a violent militia took control of most of it. My uncle was killed, and the rest of us fled. We lived in the forest for a while. Then my grandmother got sick. She died, too. My mother ... she died a year ago about. Don't know why or of what."

She looked up from her meal to the two men, gauging their reactions. She feigned a smile meant to relax them, continuing, "I hiked around the mountains, never staying in one place too long. I met up with some people, twice. Stayed with them a while. Had a problem with the guys who didn't know the meaning of no."

Marie looked to Craig and could see by his reaction that he didn't understand her meaning. Robert's expression, though, told him he was very well aware that she was likely talking about having been raped, which she had, of course. It had been worse than that, actually; she'd actually been forced into sexual servitude.

"But I got through it," she said, deciding to move on before Craig asked for more details. "And I found you guys."

A wicked smile spread her lips, and she confessed, "I've been visiting your little ranch here for almost three weeks."

That brought reactions, to which she giggled, blushed, and said, "Sorry. I, um ... I guess I owe you some labor to make up for all that. Maybe I could stick around and work in the garden...? I know how to sew if you need that."

Marie knew full well that she'd just invited herself to remain on the ranch for days or even longer. And she had a fairly good idea what the reaction was going to be, at least from the younger of the two men.

 

[KingOfNowhere]

"Do I smell that bad?" Marie asked when Robert suggested a shower.

"No, no, no, that's not--" was all Robert got out before she interrupted him.

"Kidding. But yes, I'd love to take a hot bath."

Robert was accustomed to blushing, and yet he felt his face getting warm. He chuckled, told her they'd heat some water for later, and led her back to the living area.

Listening to Marie speak about her family was difficult. It brought up memories of Vicki, as well as others. Craig didn't know it, but his mother had actually died from the virus that had done so much damage to humans. She hadn't had the immunity that Robert had and, as his son, Craig had had, too. Robert had hurried the family away from civilization after a medical test had revealed Vicki was vulnerable.

They'd been able to stay safe for seven years, until one night raiders attacked Vicki while she was bathing down at the creek. She'd been armed and had been able to put the two men down. But one of them had been an immune carrier, and two months later she began showing symptoms. Robert and Vicki discussed their options in detail, and they concluded that Craig -- then only 9 -- shouldn't be faced with watching his mother perish in such a gruesome way.

The pair of them collected some mushrooms they knew would cause a rapid but nearly painless death, and after Vicki had slipped away while in her sobbing husband's arms, Robert had told their son the agreed upon tale of her dying of an accident.

When Marie commented about the troubles she'd had with men, Robert knew exactly what she meant. When she glanced his way, he very gently nodded to her, hoping she understood he was confirming his suspicions. He wouldn't speak to Marie of it again, unless she herself brought it up.

Robert laughed when Marie confessed, "I've been visiting your little ranch here for almost three weeks."

"I told you!" Craig said, looking at his father. Referring to his days-earlier argument that some of the hens hadn't dried up, he said, "And you wanted to figure out which ones weren't laying and eat them!"

When Marie suggested that maybe she stick around for a while, the younger male beat the older one in responding with and excited, "Sure you can stay!"

Craig looked to his dad with a desperately hopeful look. "Right? She could sleep in my bed, and I'll sleep on the floor in the bedroom, like I did when I was little and the lightning scared me."

He quickly looked to Marie and clarified with an attempted manly voice, "It, it doesn't scare me anymore, of course. I was little then."

Looking back to Robert, Craig almost pleaded, "Please, dad? I mean, she owes us, right? She should have to stay around and work it off. Right?"

Robert knew there was no chance of saying no, not with both of them already determined that this was the way it was going to happen. He looked between them, shook his head in playful dismay, and responded, "Two to one, I guess. Sure. You can stay. Work off what you took."

He didn't use the word stole, though, it would have been appropriate. He smiled as he asked, "Just how much repayment do you need to make up for?"

He didn't know if he was going to get a truthful answer, but it was fun to ask. He took a couple more bites of potatoes, spoke about some of the work that Marie could help with, and told the new ranch hand, "You'll need something else to wear. That dress, well, you'll need something new."

Robert looked to his son and saw the boy's happy expression fade a bit. Craig knew his father was talking about letting Marie wear his mother's clothes. As much as he wanted the girl to stick around, that reality hadn't been in his mind.

"That's a good idea," Craig said softly, knowing that it was a good idea, despite the hurt it might cause. He wondered what it would be like to see Marie working in the kitchen or the garden or simply walking about in his long gone mother's wardrobe.

"Finish eating," Robert told Craig, "and get back to your chores."

They returned to eating, and a few minutes later they were all outside as Robert talked casually about the ranch, the house, the work, and more. Craig invited Marie to help him with the planting, but Robert reminded his son that she needed something more proper to wear.

"These should fit you maybe," Robert said after he and Marie had returned to the cabin's bedroom and began going through the clothes that had hung mostly undisturbed in the closet or equally untouched in one of the drawers in the dresser. He laid out a pair of coveralls, some denim jeans and shorts, and several shirts and blouses. Robert sniffed at them, saying, "They might be a bit musty. You can wash them if they need it."

He pulled out one summer dress that was very white and bright at the same time, then just stared at it with a solemn expression. It was the dress Vicki had worn before undressing to make love to Robert that last time before she'd passed. It would be hard to see Marie wearing this, so he stuck it back deep in the closet to get it as much out of his view as possible.

"You, um, you might be able to make use of these, too," Robert said, gesturing Marie to the open drawer. Inside it was a pretty extensive collection of undergarments. "My wife was about your size. Maybe a bit more ... bountiful in the, you know."

Vicki had been a fan of sexy panties, bras, and even garter belts and stockings. Robert had questioned her when he'd seen how she'd packed for their flight from the city so many years ago because of the contents of her suitcases. Half of one of the bags was nothing but underwear, most of it impractical for the future ahead of them.

But Vicki had made a valid argument at the time: "You love me, you love looking at me, I love you looking at me, and I know these make you want to look at me even more. I brought a pair of pants and boots, so butt out of my packing."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

"Sure you can stay!"

Marie tried to hide her delight at the young man's joy but failed, her lips widening noticeably. Craig practically begged his father, who caved. Marie looked to him, wondering whether or not he'd been as anxious to see a young woman living on the property as much as his son was.

He sent his son out to finish his work, then led Marie to the bedroom. He began pulling out clothes that had been his wife's before her passing. Marie could sense the solemn feel of what Robert was doing.

"You can wash them if they need it."

"I'm sure they will be fine," Marie reassured him. As Robert continued poking about the closet, she picked out a blouse, then a pair of jeans, which she held before her waist to estimate the fit. "

"My wife was about your size," he told her. "Maybe a bit more ... bountiful in the, you know."

She held the blouse to her bosom as he looked her way and asked, playfully, "Are you saying I have tiny tits?"

Marie laughed, tossed the blouse at him, and turned away to hide the blush filling her face as she poked through more of the clothes. As if joking about her breasts hadn't been enough to embarrass her and possibly even Robert, he next gestured Marie to an open drawer, saying she might even be able to use the bras, panties, and other under clothes in there.

"This is ... kind of personal," Marie said in a soft voice. She looked to Robert, asking with a sincere tone, "Are you sure?"

He responded, and she poked around until she found the least sexy bra and pair of panties she could find. Pulling them out but casually holding them out of his sight, Marie asked Robert, "Do you think maybe I could get that back in now? Like you said, it's been a while."

Marie raised an arm and made a sour face after pretended to sniff at presumably smelling underarms. Together, they worked at filling the tub with the hot water from atop the wood burning stove and then cooling it down with room temperature water from a stack of 5 gallon buckets they kept in the bathroom for this very purpose.

Running her hand through the water, Marie smiled from ear to ear as she looked to Robert. "I never thought I'd see the day that I got to soak in a warm bath again."

Robert excused himself and was about to pull open the drape across the bedroom door when Marie asked in a serious tone, "Do you want to stay, Robert?"

By the time he turned to look back her way, Marie's unbuttoned dress was slipping off her shoulders and falling downward to gather about her feet. She stepped out of it, then lifted up one foot after the other to pull down the heel strap of each sandal and shed them, too. She told him, "I owe you a debt, and I'm going to owe you more, I think. It's a debt that digging dirt and planting potatoes ... it won't be enough."

She reached a hand up to the middle of her back, ready to spring her brassiere free. If Robert didn't depart now or stop her, he was going to see her shed the bra, the panties, her socks...

 

[KingOfNowhere]

"This is ... kind of personal," Marie said about the draw full of bras, panties, and other intimate treats his wife had brought with her from the city so long ago. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, it's fine," Robert responded with a shrug. "They're just clothes. Besides, it's not like I'm going to be seeing you in them."

He couldn't help but lower his gaze for an instant to Marie's body, his subconscious wondering what she would look like in some of his deceased wife's sexy underwear. He pulled his eyes up quickly, though, unsure of whether or not the young woman had caught him ogling her and fantasizing.

"Do you think maybe I could get that bath now? Like you said, it's been a while."

He laughed at Marie as she inspected her pit for odor, telling her, "Of course. There's hot water on already, for Craig's bath, but we can put on more later. C'mon, give me a hand."

Soon enough, the bathtub was sufficiently filled for a comfortable bath. Robert turned to leave, when Marie shocked him. "Do you want to stay, Robert?"

He half turned to find the young beauty's dress falling to the hardwood floor. He should have stopped her right there, right then, but he didn't; he couldn't. His male instincts to want to see a female naked, to do things to and with a naked female, were far more powerful at this moment than his knowledge that this was simply wrong.

Robert watched in silence as each sandal fell away, with Marie telling him, "I owe you a debt..."

Again, as she continued to explain herself, Robert knew he should have stopped her. She was essentially prostituting herself for room and board, and Robert didn't feel Marie needed to do that. But as the two halves of his brain were screaming at one another about what was wrong and what was right, Marie's bra came loose, then fell away, revealing the most perfect pair of modestly sized tits he'd seen since even long before his wife, whose breasts had been nice but nothing like these perfect little globes.

Below his belt line, Robert's excitement was becoming obvious and, because of its current position, a bit painful as it continued to grow toward full size. He wanted desperately to reach down and adjust it for comfort, but there would be no way to do so inconspicuously.

Stop her! he chastised himself as he ogled Marie, who was now pushing her panties off her hips and down her upper thighs. Her curly muff of hair revealed itself -- and that was enough to make Robert turn his head.

"Stop," he said almost in whisper as he stared at the wall before him. He hesitated a moment, realizing his heart was pounding in excitement. He peeked at her out of the corner of his eyes, then looked to the wall again. "I'm sorry. I, um ... I want to look at you, Marie."

He chuckled, embarrassed. "I want you, Marie. I want to be with you, Marie. Desperately! But..."

He pulled the drapery door open, took one last quite but obvious look at the nearly naked young woman, then told her before departing, "Enjoy your bath."

Robert pulled the drapery closed behind him, then just stood there on the opposite side of it from the temptress for the longest time, wondering whether or not he should return to the bedroom, take Marie to his bed, and make love to her. No. Not like this, he told himself as he finally hurried ahead and out of the cabin.

Craig noted his father's expression and body language as the man continued in a rush to the garden. "What's wrong, dad?"

"Nothing, son," Robert lied, finding a shovel and returning to work the dirt into which his son was planting potato halves. "Marie is taking a bath, so, stay out of the cabin until she lets us know she's done. No peeking."

"She's pretty, isn't she?" Craig asked without any prompting from his father about the young woman. "Mom was pretty. Do you think Marie is as pretty as mom?"

"No, Craig," Robert said without hesitation. He looked to his son, smiled, and said, "There will never be anyone as pretty, as beautiful as your mother."

They worked for several minutes in silence, both of their minds absorbed in thoughts about the young woman who was currently naked in their tub, running a provided bar of homemade soap over her body. Finally, Craig set his father's head to spinning by asking, "If Marie stays with us, will she be my new mother, or my sister, or something else?"

"She'll be our friend," Robert said with a firm tone, standing tall to look down at his son with a bit of a smile of wonder on his face. The boy didn't know enough about the relationship between males and females to know what to ask about them. Robert blamed himself for that; he should have anticipated that one day, a woman might once again come into their lives. When Craig realized he was being watched and sat back on his haunches to look up, Robert asked, "Do you want Marie to stay with us? We don't know her. She might turn out to be mean or a bully, or maybe she snores or farts."

Craig laughed at his father's humor, something they'd always shared. But then he got serious again. "I want her to stay. Even if she snores, farts, or burps."

They studied one another for a little bit before Robert said, "Well, we don't know that Marie wants to stay with us. So, for now, let's take it one day at a time."

He jabbed a finger in the air at the boy, telling him, "Stop staring at Marie! You'll scare her off, and then who's gonna help us with our chores?"

They laughed again, then went back to work. And occasionally, Robert inconspicuously found himself reaching down to rearrange his cock as it repeatedly grew to useful dimensions at the thoughts filling his head and the image of a naked Marie standing just out of reach.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

"Stop," Robert said only after Marie's breasts were bared and the lower half of her womanly features was just coming into view. "I'm sorry. I, um ... I want to look at you, Marie."

"I want you to look at me, too," she said softly, her fingers still inside the waistband of her panties yet no longer lowering them.

"I want you, Marie," he admitted. "I want to be with you, Marie. Desperately!"

As he was expressing his desires for her, Marie had to admit that she didn't particularly want to be with Robert. Yes, she had started this. But this was all less about sexual desire to Marie than it was simply about ensuring that Robert let her live in his home, on his property, eating his food and enjoying his son's comfortable, warm, and dry bed for as long as she wanted.

But..."

He took one last look at Marie before he left, welcoming her to "Enjoy your bath."

And like that, Marie was alone. She rose a bit taller, her panties still high on her thighs as she contemplated about what had just happened. Never in her life had a man turned down a chance of putting his cock inside her. But, was this a good thing or a bad thing?

Right now, Marie had no interest in wasting time finding an answer. She finished undressing and slipped down into the deliciously warm bath. Stretching out, she found herself wondering where Robert had found the antique, claw foot bathtub, as well as how he'd gotten it here. She didn't honestly know whether or not he'd actually built this place himself. Had he inherited it, purchased it, or simply found it?

Marie dipped the wash rag Robert had supplied into the water and wrapped it around the bar of soap he'd surprised her with. It looked homemade, which made sense seeing how the last bar to come out of a factory had probably been used up years ago. She set to cleaning ever square inch of her body, the water in the tub slowly showing evidence of just how dirty she'd become since she last washed in a cold stream.

When her hands slipped between her thighs to clean her most personal of areas, Marie found herself thinking of Robert standing there in the bedroom door, looking but trying not to look at her young, firm, naked form. She didn't often touch herself down there in that way, but at this moment she simply couldn't help herself.

Marie closed her eyes, pressed her feet against the tub's far end to hold herself in place, and set about ever so slowly and gently toying with the sensitive nub of flesh. It wasn't hurried; Marie knew what it took to achieve orgasm, and that was a slow and consistent, up and down motion of knowing fingers against her swollen clitoris. Her second hand moved occasionally from parting her vulva to groping a breast and its equally sensitive nipple.

Her breathing deepened, her heart raced, her sighs became soft cries, and when the time came to finish, her fingers' up and down became round and round and, with a final deeply inhaled breath, Marie felt the ecstasy explode through her. Fearing that the men of the ranch might hear her, she clapped her free hand over her mouth and screamed into it, eventually lowering that hand away once she was simply gasping from climax as she hadn't done in far too long.

Marie slumped down into the tub, then allowed herself to submerged for almost half a minute as she simply contemplated how her life had and still was changing as of late. She pushed herself back to the surface, sucked in a deep breath, then laughed. This is going to be good.

She dried and dressed, making her way out to the garden in a blouse and jeans that had last been worn by Robert's wife. Seeing him react to the view, particularly the part where the color of the black bra shown slightly through the thin blouse, Marie asked, "Is this okay?"

 

[KingOfNowhere]

As he and his son worked to open up a new patch to their garden, Robert came across an old tree root that, while slowly rotting under a couple of inches of soil, was still too thick and too tough to be cut by the strong but dull tip of the shovel.

"Where's the ax?" Robert asked Craig before then sending him to go get it from the back side of the cabin. He stabbed the root a couple of more times, only to confirm that he had the wrong tool. It was only then that he realized he'd sent his teenage son up to the house where their new, young, and beautiful guest was in a bath. "Craig! Never--"

Robert was too late, though, as his son had already passed around to the back of the cabin where the current firewood cutting site was located. He very nearly chased after Craig, afraid the boy might intrude upon Marie's privacy and, of course, see something he hadn't seen since so long ago that it would essentially be like seeing it for the first time ever: a beautiful, female body.

But remembering that the drapes Vicki had sewn long ago were pulled shut on all the appropriate windows, Robert dismissed his concerns and moved onto another section of digging.

Whether or not Robert should have been concerned more about his concerns, Craig found himself at the back of the cabin with his mind filled with thoughts about their guest and how she was doing inside the cabin. He knew she was bathing, which meant she was nude.

He was intrigued to know what that looked like; what a naked girl looked like. Would Marie look just like his mother had the times as a child when he'd seen her? Craig didn't fully understand his interest in this area of knowledge and curiosity; he didn't know the things boys had long learned from their fathers via the birds and the bees talk or years later from the new source of such knowledge, internet porn. (Ironically, he didn't know anything about the internet or porn, either.)

But he knew that Marie -- and his mother before him -- were different physically, he knew he wanted to know more about those differences, and somehow he knew that that knowledge had a connection to why his cock hardened and called for attention every time he looked at the young female.

Peeking around the corner of the cabin to find his father hard at work, Craig crept up slowly to the bedroom window and peeked inside a slight gap between the curtain and the frame. He saw nothing but the edge of the dresser and the window in the wall adjacent to this one.

Knowing it was wrong but risking the disciplinary actions that would surely come with being caught, Craig crept over to the window of the bathroom. It was higher than the first, but luckily there were things on which he could stand to put his face at the tiny pane of glass. Here, too, was cloth obscuring most of the teen's view. But what he could see and hear intrigued him: Marie's feet were pressed hard against the end of the tub, slightly out of the water, a few inches apart; the surface of the slightly dirty water rippled rather consistently, unlike what Craig would expect if someone was simply washing off their body; and Marie seemed to be crying softly, though, not like anything he'd ever heard from his mother when she was sad or nursing a slight injury or any other time.

After a bit, the sounds stopped, then there was a sort of gasp. After that, the movement of the water in the tub changed, settling; Marie's feet fell down into the slightly dirty water; and then her knees rose as if she had submerged herself. Craig understood that, of course, as he loved even today to disappear under the water's surface and practice holding his breath.

Even though he didn't now, some time later on Craig would connect the sounds Marie had made and the sudden ceasing of them with the same behavior he'd seen from his mother as she'd enjoyed her private time with his father, her husband. Ironically, he would make this connection as he'd finished another session of self pleasure out in the woods, an event that would have him imaging his and his father's guest as he stroked himself desperately.

"Craig!"

The teen almost fell off his riser at the distant sound of his father calling for him. He jumped down, trying to be silent, snatched up the ax, ran over to the edge of the forest a few dozen yards away, then emerged again yet another few dozen yards away from the cabin's back.

"What the hell...?" his father called as his son quick walked his way back to the garden. When Craig arrived, he asked suspiciously, "What were you doing?"

"I thought I saw that fox," the boy lied. "You know, the one that's been--"

"Yeah, I know which one," Robert interrupted. He glanced back at the house, then to his son again, suspicious. He let it go, though, telling the boy, "Cut out that root, so we finish that plot."

A few minutes later, they both turned at the sound of approaching footsteps on dried leaves they'd mulched the garden with over the winter. They turned, and both stared at their guest in what was unmistakably their wife's/mother's clothing.

"Is this okay?" Marie asked.

"Of course," Robert said without having to think about it. He wouldn't have offered the clothes if it hadn't been okay. But now, actually seeing another woman wearing them, Robert's stomach turned over anxiously. This was not something he'd ever expected to experience, and seeing such a beauty dressed in Vicki's wardrobe was like nothing he could have imagined happening in a million years. Trying to brush away the thoughts going through his head, intensified by the view of the gentle mounds within the black bra visible behind thin cotton, Robert said, "You look perfectly dressed for gardening. Grab that hoe and help us chop up these clods. It's still a bit early in the season, and we got rain a few days ago, so, there's some mud."

As Robert went back to work, his son had moved to retrieve the hoe, handing it to their visitor. He smiled to her with a young man's fancy, saying quietly, "You look very pretty, Marie."

He backed away and returned to his work, glancing Marie's way occasionally until he caught a chastising glare from his father. They worked until almost sundown, taking breaks for food and water and badly needed stretches. Robert sent Craig to the woods to check the snares, during which he and Marie dug up some of the potatoes and turnips that had wintered over in another part of the patch.

"About earlier," Robert eventually said, having put this off as long as he could imagine. "I just wanted to say..."

He took a breath and let his eyes fall to Marie's body again, to help his two brains work together to decide just exactly what he wanted to say. "I want to say, I um, I need to say, Marie. What I said about wanting to be with you. That is true. I would have loved nothing more than to go to you earlier. But I don't think that's a good idea right now."

He looked to the forest edge for his son, despite it still being too soon for Craig to be returning unless none of the traps had been sprung. Looking to Marie again, Robert told her, "You are our guest. I didn't invite you to stay with us because I wanted anything from you. For now, for the time being, let's just put that aside. Is that okay?"