"The Farmer's Daughter, Really?" (closed)

[PollyWannaCracker]

"The Farmer's Daughter, Really?"


The 1,000 acre Perkins Farm sat at the end of a 3 mile long gravel road, at the inside bottom of a crescent moon shaped ridge of rolling hills. It was, in Charlotte Perkins' mind, the most wonderful place in all the world. She'd never lived anywhere else, not even for a single day or night as she'd been born in the very room that she'd slept in for all of her 20 years of life.

Her love for the farm was obvious in not just her care for it and the work she performed upon it but in the amount of time she'd spent here during her life. "Charlie's" mother had home schooled her, which meant she hadn't been away from the property for some 30 or more hours a day, five days a week, 9 months a year.

Charlie's father had been and still was the protective type, so he'd been perfectly fine with her education taking place here. It meant that as she reached her teen years, it kept her away from "horny boys" and the bad influences of "bad girls", too. Charlie had had her own classroom in the Big House, one she shared off and on over the years with some of the children of permanent and seasonal farm hands.

As she got older, online classes and weekend/weeknight classes at the local community college filled in for the subjects her mother had not been able to personally teach. These times away from home had been Charlie's first real interactions with people her age who weren't family or workers on or visitors to the farm.

She'd made a few friends, both male and female, but she was too shy to even consider making a "love connection" with any of the men she met. Charlie hadn't been raised with the idea that being a "real girl" meant she had to be in the constant pursuit of sex with some handsome guy (or even a beautiful girl, as far as that went). Her hormones often raged, just as with any other female her age, but Charlie simply didn't know what to do about it.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She knew what to do about it when she was alone, and she dealt with that situation on a regular basis. But she dealt with her need for sexual satisfaction entirely on her own, in the privacy of her own bedroom or shower, more often than not.

Spring had come and gone and summer had arrived, and the seasonal hands had begun arriving one after the next. Some of them (singles or small families) moved into the little one or two room cabin's Robert Perkins kept for this specific purpose. The cabins had been build back when most of this area's migrating farm workers had been poor white folk, particularly those who many locals had derogatorily called "Okies".

These days, the cabins were mostly filled from late spring to late autumn by Latina migrants and young folk from "WWOOF", the Worldwide Opportunities on Organic Farms. (Robert Perkins had converted the farm and ranch to organic methods when he took over after his father's untimely death at only 42 years of age.)

Robert had never been too concerned with his daughter becoming too close to any of the males living or working on the property for one significant reason: most of the men he hired were married, often with their families in tow, and those single men he hired or who volunteered with WWOOF were often selected for their lack of "hunkiness" to dissuade his daughter from taking notice and becoming attracted. He was also known for warning off or even dismissing the male workers/volunteers who he thought were developing an attraction for his daughter. Problem avoided.

This year, though, Robert had needed a licensed electrician to do upgrades to many of the older buildings, some of which dated to the first years of the past century. He was rightfully concerned with an electrical fire as some of the structures had their original wiring or breaker panels.

Robert had looked around for a "not handsome at all" type electrician, but in the end the only man he found who was licensed, available, and affordable was a young, handsome, hunk of a man named Mark Phillips. The first day Mark came to the farm, Sarah Perkins pulled her husband aside and asked, "What the hell are you thinking?"

But Robert had committed to hiring the man. He put him up in one of the smaller cabins, showed him the farm, and then very specifically told him, "I have a young daughter who is rather naïve and inexperienced with the ways of the world, and I would prefer that you limit your interactions with her if you don't mind."

Charlie had eyed Mark from afar a few times those first days he was on the property. She'd even waved politely to him from the seat of a tractor as she passed by or from the window of her second floor bedroom as he walked across the lawn below to or from his cabin.

But she still hadn't made his acquaintance after 6 days of his living on the property. Charlie had been busy with her own sunup-to-sundown tasks, but (just as with Mark) she'd also been warned off. Robert had told her, "He's here to work, not visit, honey. And a beautiful girl like you will only be a distraction and will likely result in him crossing a wire or putting in the wrong breaker and 'poof', up goes the farm."

Charlie had been tickled with her father's acknowledgment that her beauty and charm could potentially be dangerous in some instances. But over this first week of his being on the farm, Charlie had found herself wanting to finally meet and speak to Mark. Her mother saw this in her and sat her down one afternoon, giving her "the talk" again. It was something about which they'd spoken back when she very first began menstruating and only again when she took her first "coed" campus classes last year.

"I don't want to be his girlfriend," Charlie told her mother, feeling her face explode in a fiery blush. "I just want to say hi."

Her mother knew she couldn't keep Charlie from men forever, so she said she would invite Mark to dinner at the house the following night. The younger Perkins woman couldn't wait, though, and after the two of them had gone their separate ways, Charlie hurried out to cabins. She wandered about, saying hi to the other hands, some of whom she'd known all her life.

Finally, though, after peeking back toward the house for sign of her parents prying, she went to Mark's cabin and reached up to knock. The door hadn't properly latched, though, and it swung open to reveal Mark as he was changing into a clean shirt. Charlie froze, staring at the man's muscular body with wide eyes. She'd never seen someone so fit in her life, despite living around men who spent hours a day toiling in hard labor.

"Sorry," she said in a weak voice, finally lowering her hand from its "knock knock" dangling position. "I, um, I, I didn't mean to, you know."

She was tongue tied on what she was supposed to say to him, finally adding with fluster, "I'm Charlie. Charlotte. Charlotte Perkins. You can call me Charlie. I'm Robert's daughter. Sarah's, too. I live here. On the farm. Over there."

Charlie jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward her home, adding, "At the Big House."

Finally realizing that she was staring at his wonderful physique, Charlie half turned to divert her eyes, her face exploding in a blush as she said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you. I, um, my mother wants to know if you'd like to come to dinner. Tomorrow night. Or tonight. We could make it tonight. If you wanted. Do you? Want? To come, I mean?"

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Mark had spent his first week on the Perkins property learning how big the job he'd taken would truly be. He'd learned how the old transformer on the property had been replaced in the 70s with an oil-cooled model. He'd uncovered how the old family patchwork of early 20th century parts had grown over the years as the property expanded. Unfortunately, he also figured out how much of the old cabling he'd have to take out of there and exchange with wires with proper shielding as there was a lot more corrosion than he'd initially found when he submitted his estimate.

He did his best to tackle the problems he could with the hardware on hand. Most of the cabins were empty all day. Those that weren't could make due with a few hours of outage while he swapped the breaker boxes and changed out wall receptacles. He'd gotten rather adept at is since he started as an electrician's apprentice as soon as he turned 18.

It was his uncle that took him on and started teaching him the craft. Mark wasn't much for school; he spent most of his free time taking apart things to learn how they worked. His parents were smart enough to see that and encouraged him to spend time with his uncle over the summers. When he turned 18, it was only natural for him to join his uncle's shop.

Now that he was 24, he was starting his own business. In fact, the Perkins job was his first contract as an owner/operator of his own electrician's shop. It was his uncle that recommended him when Robert Perkins called around for anyone available that could handle a job like the one he needed done. After giving the best quote and spotting things other electricians had missed, Mark wasn't too surprised to get the job.

He was surprised by some of the conversations Robert had with him once he got there. It was only the second day and the farmer pulled him aside to have a chat about his daughter, Charlotte. He couldn't imagine what brought it on until he recalled waving at that pretty girl on the tractor. He figured it was either a worker or someone from the WWOOF, maybe a college student doing some world-changing charity work or something. It wasn't until he saw her later in the week that he could see a little of Robert and Sarah in the girl's features. He was friendly and waved back, but he was on his way to flip one of the circuits at the mains off and didn't have time to chat.

He didn't have much time for anything beyond work during the day. He tried his best to get things done while the workers were out in the fields so that meant hustling from the transformer shack down to the cabins to get his work done. Even worse, he was doing this in the middle of the summer with no AC to speak of. Luckily, they were gracious enough to put him up in one of the cabins for the duration of the job. It saved him driving into town to find a motel every night.

Still, after working all day, it was nice to come back to his cabin for a good rinse in the shower and a fresh change of clothes. After pulling on his underwear and pants, he was grabbing his shirt when he heard the squeak of a voice behind him. Turning, he saw his front door swinging open and the farmer's daughter standing in his doorway.

She had a "deer in the headlights" look on her face and a blush that was drawing out those freckles of hers the deeper it got. Looking down, he realized he was probably hiding what good shape he was in during his time here. Mark played sports in school; it was one activity that didn't require thinking or lectures. Once he graduated, he just kept pursuing them. Basketball, soccer, swimming, anything to stay active since his job usually required use of the finer muscles.

He pulled on his shirt as she looked away, smiling as she stammered out who she was and where she lived. "Yes, I figured that's home for you."

Listening to her offer, he stepped closer. Reaching out, he offered his hand which could swallow hers by comparison. "Dinner with your family would be lovely. Thank you, Charlie. My name is Mark, by the way." He said as he smiled at how sweetly bashful the farmer's daughter appeared to be.

 

[PollyWannaCracker]

"Yes, I figured that's home for you."​

Charlie looked to Mark tentatively, then fully. She smiled, embarrassed by her rambling. 'He probably thinks you're about twelve, idiot', she thought. She took his hand, realizing that she was conflicted that he'd donned a shirt. She'd enjoyed staring at his perfect 'manly man' body, but she knew that if her father had seen here ogling him, Mark would have been packed up and looking for another job in five minutes.

"Dinner with your family would be lovely. Thank you, Charlie. My name is Mark, by the way."​

"Mark," she repeated softly. "Yeah, I know. Nice to meet you, too."

Charlie took his hand and, as he was thinking, realized just how big it was. She blushed deeply again, recalling what one of the her female Community College classmates had said about men with big hands. She'd never heard such a thing before then, and she'd exploded red faced then, too. Ever since, Charlie had found her looking at the hard working hands of the farm's 'hands', wondering whether the connection between large 'paws' and large penises was true.

When she pulled her hand back, Charlie moved it and its matching one behind her back, clenching them together. Somehow in her mind, she felt as if she'd done something inappropriate, as if she hadn't been holding his hand but had instead been holding his, you know, his 'thingy'. Charlie's heart was beating furiously, and she was doing her best to keep her breathing slow and steady. But standing here with this beautiful work of manly art was bothering her like nothing ever had before.

"Okay, so, dinner tomorrow," she said hurriedly, backing out of the cabin, nearly tripping over a slightly raised piece of porch lumber. She chuckled nervously, checking the porch, her boots, Mark, and the Big House for prying eyes. "I'll, um, I'll go tell momma. She'll be excited to have you up there. I know you've talked but, you know, not 'talked' talked, like 'dinner' talk. So. Tomorrow."

Charlie realized again that she was rambling like a crazy lady and suddenly just turned and ran off, not a run or a jog but somewhere in between. She didn't stop until she was almost to the house, then she looked back over her shoulder to see if Mark was watching her. She smiled, then turned and ran up the steps to tell her mother the very good news.

No sooner had she done that then Charlie went to her room to pick out the perfect wardrobe for the next day. She didn't have many fancy clothes, but she did have a black dress she'd worn to Gramma Gladys's funeral last year and a floral print dress she'd worn to her cousin Agnes's wedding.

Charlie stripped down and tried on the black dress first. It had been for a funeral, of course, so unlike the 'little black dress' many women had in their closets for dinner dates or the theater, it did little to show off her womanly curves in any serious fashion. Charlie shrugged and cursed Mother Nature, disappointed that she wasn't curvy like her mother. Sarah Perkins had had a delicious, 36D-26-36 figure as a young woman. Even now after a child and 20 years as a farm wife during which she'd learned that 'gravity works', Sarah still drew the eyes of men when she walked about town shopping or visiting old friends.

Charlie, on the other hand, was more subtle in her shape. She was only 5'6", two inches shorter than her mother, and when they'd measured her for her black dress, the numbers had come out 34B-24-36. Still, the seamstress had told her that she had a wonderful figure and, with a face some said was flawless, that she should have been gracing the covers of magazines rather than driving tractors and windrowers through fields.

She shed the black dress, put on the floral print, and turned this way and that before a full length mirror. If she did a little work on the seams down the sides, it would fit her slim figure tighter. 'Maybe bring up the hem an inch?' she wondered to herself. 'Yeah. Sure. Daddy won't notice.'

After she took the dress off and was again standing before the mirror naked, Charlie turned this way and that again, checking out her curves. She didn't know what to think of her body as she'd never really spoken to someone about it, someone who could tell her 'You're delicious' or 'You're okay'. She thought she had a nice figure, based on the little she knew from listening to other women talk.

She caressed her hands over her belly, up over her breasts, down the fronts of her thighs, and back up again. It felt good, of course, and as she watched her fingers toy with a nipple and slip down between the sensitive folds between her thighs, she wondered what it would feel like to have someone else touch her in this way. 'Mark. Mark Phillips,' Charlie mused as she drew a deep breath of excitement at the feel of a fingertip upon her clit.

She hurriedly turned on the radio in her bedroom, returned to her bathroom, locked the door, and started the shower. Then, sitting on the soft pad atop the toilet seat, Charlie closed her eyes and worked her fingers upon her womanhood to the image of Mark Phillips, master electrician, using his own skilled hands to bring pleasure to her as no one had ever done before.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Mark smiled as Charlie backed her way out of his cabin. She rambled a bit, but it was charming in its way. She was a bit younger than he was, but she was very cute in her way. He couldn't bring himself to look away from those eyes of hers. Once she stepped away enough, she hustled her way back to the house. He couldn't help but watch her get back up the hill to the house, waving back when she glanced back at him. He remembered what Robert said, but it couldn't be helped if she was the one to come around his place.

With her back in the house, he went about handling dinner for tonight. Luckily, the repeat families had that down to a well-worn routine. With the cabins lacking in AC and no one wanting to heat up the house by using the ovens, the families and other workers gathered in the space between them all and had cookouts most evenings. Some families brought their own, some fashioned one out of old drum barrels or whatever they had on hand around the farm. Between all the homesteads around and the stuff the Perkins harvested themselves, there was always plenty of food to go around.

Mark enjoyed the company and spent those dinners getting to know the workers. From what he heard, Robert Perkins was a fair man. That's why so many came back year after year. It was also why he opened his doors to an organization like WWOOF. The more he heard, the more worried he got about what he would think about his daughter, Charlotte, inviting him up to dinner. He'd just have to deal with that when it happened.

Luckily, there was a full days worth of work to take his mind off of it in the morning. It was all spent rewiring the milking shed. With all the pumps, the feeds had been wired in as needed. What he really needed was a 3-phase setup with pumps that ran off of it. It would be a lot more efficient and last a lot longer. It didn't take much convincing when he quoted him such a system. He wound up kicking himself for it as it took him all day to work on this one system.

Mark headed back to his cabin and washed himself from the toil of the day. He did his best to look nice as having dinner with the family in the Big House seemed like a special occasion from what he heard from the workers last night. He found his best slacks that he packed for this job and threw on a polo that had his company logo on it. It was the same shirt he wore to do the quote, but he didn't have anything nicer to wear. He wasn't expecting he'd need it.

Walking up the hill toward the house, he cradled a plate of biscuits that one of the wives in the cabins baked for him. She told him that the Perkins love her biscuits and Mark didn't want to arrive for dinner empty-handed. Swallowing nervously, he could see Sarah and Robert milling around through the windows into the kitchen and dining room. Arriving at the back door, he knocked on the open screen door. "Mr. and Mrs. Perkins, It's Mark Phillips. I trust I'm not too early for dinner."

 

[PollyWannaCracker]

Charlie was upstairs in her room after having helped her 'traditional wifey type' mother get dinner ready, as she had nearly every night of her marriage. Charlie changed out of the clothes that smelled of roast beef and other such delights to don the wardrobe she'd put together for dinner. She'd gone with the floral print dress which, after an hour of hand stitching, now fit her narrow waist and wide hips much tighter. She'd matched it with a pair of tall heels she'd dug out of the depths of her mother's closet. Sarah had last worn them for her and Robert's 10th anniversary dinner, at which the whole of the extended family and much of their little country town had been.

After putting on a minimal amount of makeup, removing it, and then applying it once again. Charlie stood before the mirror on her bathroom door and barely recognized herself. It wasn't just the dress, the shoes, and the makeup that had transformed her. Charlie had also found one of her older bras from the back of her dresser drawer, added a paper clip to the clasp to make it fit her now larger torso, and somehow got it to fit comfortably over her bosom. The result was that the A-cup brassiere caused her 'boobies' to rise up and inward, creating cleavage where far less had existed in her properly sized B-cup bra.

'Dad's gonna flip', she told herself when she turned this way and that to see her profile. Honestly, Charlie couldn't even believe that she was doing this. Then she heard it, downstairs: boots climbing the old, rickety porch steps, followed by:

"Mr. and Mrs. Perkins, It's Mark Phillips. I trust I'm not too early for dinner."​

Charlie realized that her heart was pounding as if she'd swam across the irrigation pond and back nonstop. She checked her appearance again, turned toward her bedroom door, hesitated a long moment, then finally pushed herself to head out to the landing and down the stairs. Twice, she teetered in the heels, nearly falling down the stairs. Charlie had never worn shoes this tall, nor had she ever walked in spikes.

She managed the descent without falling and breaking her neck, hesitating again at the bottom of the stairs to will away the pounding heart and quick, deep breaths. Finally, building her courage, Charlie headed down the hallway toward the dining room, telling herself 'You can do this, you can do this, you can do this.'

Come to find out, she couldn't.

Charlie caught sight of Mark at the door just before she entered the dining room and she stopped dead in her tracks. Her brain was telling her, 'RUN! RUN! Before he sees you.' But it was too late, as the new farm hand turned and set his gaze directly upon her. Charlie caught his gaze falling and rising and falling again, taking in the view of her.

And then, just as she got up the courage to continue her trek into the dining room, Sarah (who had peeked around to see her daughter) entered the hallway with urgency and in whisper growled, "Oh no you don't. What's going through that brain of yours?"

Before she knew it, Charlie was in the hallway bathroom with the door slammed behind her, Sarah chastising her softly for, well, everything! Her mother ordered her out of the dress and heels, the latter of which she threw out the bathroom window into the yard. "Oh my God, girl, do you know what your father would have done if he'd seen you like this? OH MY GOD! What is with this bra? What. is. with. this. bra?"

Five minutes later, after her mother had made a trip to the laundry room and she had taken a wet, soapy rag to her face, Charlie made her entrance into the dining room in a loose fitting tee shirt and a pair of Oshkosh coveralls, her feet now in a pair of flat soled deck shoes that were a good handful of years old.

"Sorry I took so long to get ready, daddy" Charlie apologized, dealing with her father first. She knew he would be impatiently sitting there, likely grilling the electrician about his 'intentions' toward his daughter. She looked to Mark then, blushing and diverting her eyes to the ground in shame. He'd gotten a look at her in her sexy, form fitting dress, only to see her being 'drug' away and put into clothes as sexy as a potato sack. "Sorry, Mister Phillips. I, um, I needed to change into something a little more appropriate."

Charlie looked to her mother, then her father again. Would the former tell the latter what she'd tried to pull earlier? She doubted it. It would mean the expulsion of Mark before he had a chance to deflower the 'Virgin Perkins'. Charlie hadn't yet even considered giving her virginity to the handsome newcomer, of course. Hell, she hadn't ever even kissed a man, let alone done any of 'that' stuff with him.

But still, Charlie was in no hurry to see Mark leave Perkins Farm, and she felt stupid for even having tried what she tried so early in their, what, friendship?

"Sit down, honey, and make our guest welcome," Sarah said, gesturing Charlie to the chair opposite Mark. As she set about moving the rest of the meal to the kitchen table, Sarah asked, "So what have you two mean talking about while we girls were getting ready?"

Charlie cringed at that question, certain that her father, as earlier feared, had been grilling Mark about his desires for the young beauty now facing him. It would turn out, though, that the two men had spent the entire time speaking about the electrical repairs and updates. Robert informed the two women, "Mark here has found a couple of more issues that need addressing. I've offered him an extended contract. Probably another week or two."

Then, Robert looked directly at his daughter, who he was sure was up to no good in regards to the electrician. He added with a stern voice, "That is, of course, assuming there won't be any problems with him sticking around a few more days."

Charlie knew what her father meant, and looking from him to her mother to Mark and then back, she said with a meek tone, "I can't imagine there would be any problems, daddy."

She looked to Mark again and did her best to hide her smile of delight. She failed, adding another deep blush to the moment. To keep her happily trembling hands busy, she snatched up the nearest bowl of food and asked, "Mashed potatoes, Mister Phillips?"

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Lucky for Mark that Sarah Perkins was a gracious hostess when Mark arrived. She gratefully and gleefully accepted the biscuits and added them to the spread for dinner. True to the woman that made them, Sarah was a big fan and was glad to have them. As she led him into the dining room however, they both froze. There, standing in the hall from the steps, was Charlotte. She looked so different to the awkward girl that came by to invite him to dinner yesterday.

Mark didn't realize it, but his gaze made a small orbit up and down her body. The way her flor dress hugged her body showed off the trim waist and generous hips she had hiding under her usual clothes. Thinking back, Mark recalled that she was usually in a baggy tee or jeans that looked like they were bought for someone else or that she was meant to grow into them. This Charlotte was a different person entirely; a woman instead of a girl.

A woman that did not meet with the approval of her mother.

"Oh no you don't. What's going through that brain of yours?"

Sarah was brushing past Mark to haul her misbehaving daughter into a bathroom around the corner. Mark frowned, hoping he wasn't making things difficult for Charlotte, but he didn't linger on that too long. Robert Perkins had walked up and clapped his hand down hard on his shoulder before guiding him to the table.

"Don't mind them, the ladies will be joining us shortly." The farmer told him, distracting him by sitting with him at the table and starting up a conversation about the job he was doing. "I understand the milking shed is good to go. Are there other things like that upgrade you think we should do around this place?"

It worked. There wasn't much that Mark enjoyed more than his work. Some part of him was still that kid that pulled apart clock radios and helped his uncle with home repairs. He sat up taller and laid out a plan for the cabins. "I think upgrading the lines so you can have properly rated receptacles for the kitchens would be a good start as well as an extra line just for in-window AC units. After spending just a week out there, I can tell it would be a real godsend for some of the workers."

As Mark continued, he could tell that Mr. Perkins was listening, but something behind his eyes told him that he was studying the young man. It was the same look that came over him whenever Robert felt the need to talk with him about his naive daughter. As he talked more and more about the potential upgrades around the farm, the more he felt like he was being judged on what his true intentions might be. He had no idea how protective Robert was until this discussion even though neither one of them was talking about her in the slightest.

When Charlotte rejoined them, Mark's heart sank a little as she was back to her usual workday wear as she joined her parents and Mark at the table. It felt a little like she was being punished for daring to break out of the mold they had cast for their little girl. But she wasn't one anymore. She was clearly an adult now; surely they could trust her to make her own choices and learn from her own mistakes. She couldn't even meet his gaze as she apologized, despite not having done anything wrong.

"Sorry, Mister Phillips. I, um, I needed to change into something a little more appropriate."

"Oh, that's alright. I'd hate for you to stain that lovely dress with a drop of food." Mark said, giving her an out and showing he didn't mind, but still voicing his approval of what she chose to wear. Sarah moved gracefully and elegantly for a farmer's wife, gesturing to the empty chair at the table.

"Sit down, honey, and make our guest welcome. So what have you two mean talking about while we girls were getting ready?"

Mark was about to respond when Robert interjected, laying out that he'd offered Mark an extended contract. This was news to Mark, but not unexpected based on the conversation they were having while Charlotte changed. There was nothing subtle about the added comment as Robert eyed Charlotte at the table. As always, everything was contingent upon how she and Mark behaved around each other. Charlotte mumbled a response into her chest, but Mark felt the need to help her out.

"Shouldn't be any trouble with that, sir. Charlotte has been friendly but with her chores and my work around the farm, we've barely spoken. That's why I was so surprised and thankful for your wife's invitation to join you this evening. I fell I've barely met the family since I got here," Mark interjected, trying to let Charlotte off the hook. He wasn't sure why they were so determined on preserving her chastity, but folks in this part of the county were very traditional. It wasn't up to him to change people's minds.

She smiled across at him, sneaking it under the watchful gaze of her folks. At her offer of smashed spuds, he beamed gratefully. "Thank you, Charlie. I was just hoping for some." He said, taking the bowl and serving himself a spoonful. He passed it back in time for Sarah to pass the roast beef. And so it went around the table as Mark piled his plate high full of home-cooked farm food. It was quite the spread for a family dinner, but he wasn't about to turn anything down.

Thankfully, the Perkins were gracious enough to let him talk with Charlotte over the course of the dinner. He was glad to find out that she was closer to him in age than he thought. When he learned she was going taking classes from the Community College, he was a bit surprised given how protective her parents were. At 20 years old, she was probably the closest in age to him on the farm. A lot of the workers were in their 30s or married. Plus, he was working when they were working so he didn't really see many of them during the day. He was hoping he could talk with Charlotte more often upon learning that, but his work during the day kept him busy during any times they might hang out. There was no way her folks would let her out of the house once the sun went down from the look of it.

Sadly dinner came to an end and Mark resigned himself to missing a chance to spend more time with Charlotte. Sarah piped up, offering dessert. "It's hot chocolate. I know it seems odd on a summer night, but trust me, you'll love it," she explained as she started serving the steaming liquid into mugs for everyone.

Mark looked over at Charlotte before smiling. "I'd love one, Mrs. Perkins," he answered, looking back her way. Even if it's just a few minutes, he might get to steal Charlotte from her parents. After the dress debacle, she probably could use one.

 

[PollyWannaCracker]

After she'd plopped down into her chair, crushed by being dressed in little more than a clean set of work clothes, Charlie listened to Mark's reaction to her having to change.

"Oh, that's alright. I'd hate for you to stain that lovely dress with a drop of food."​

She glanced quickly at her father for his reaction to the mentioning of a dress. When he met her gaze, Charlie looked away quickly, hoping he didn't understand what had taken place just out of his line of sight.

She was tickled pink when Mark backed her on their ability to stay out of each other's way while he and she did their daily tasks over the days and (she hoped) weeks to come.

"Shouldn't be any trouble with that, sir. Charlotte has been friendly but with her chores and my work around the farm, we've barely spoken."​

Robert looked between the two young people suspiciously but said nothing that might show his doubt. He was no idiot; he'd been a young, horny man in the presence of an equally hormone driven young woman once upon a time. It was, of course, the reason Charlie was sitting here now. But in response to Mark's declaration, he only said softly, "Good to know."

When the new hand spoke of his surprise at being invited to dinner, it was Sarah who spoke up, saying, "It's our pleasure to have you here, Mark. And before my husband speaks up and says something he shouldn't, just let me tell you that each of our new employees over the years has been invited up to the Big House for an introductory meal."

"They have?" Charlie asked in surprise. "I don't re--"

"They 'have'!" Sarah cut in, trying to silence her daughter. Charlie must have realized what her mother was doing because she went quiet and instead began the passing of food.

Dinner went well, and Charlie was overjoyed about being able to talk to someone close to her age about her life outside of the farm. Oh, sure, she'd spoken to her classmates at the community college between classes. But they'd been almost exclusively city kids who'd spent their education years in public school. All they'd ever wanted to hear from Charlie was what it was like to live on a farm and be home schooled alone or (occasionally over the years) with one or two of the other farm family kids who were also home schooled.

And, of course, they'd wanted to know what it was like not to be surrounded by boys and, later, men. Charlie had always been uncomfortable with those conversations because she was quite literally the most naïve person amongst them. How often had one of them used some sexual related word or phrase she didn't understand, something she would only have understood by going to the Urban Dictionary, presuming that she'd ever heard of such an online source of knowledge?

"I took some classes in organic agriculture," she told Mark proudly, reminding him that they didn't use artificial chemicals on the Perkins farm. "And the windmill outside -- not the old one by the pond but the new one by the barn -- I put that together with daddy after I took a couple of classes on wind energy, too. Did you know we get 55% of our energy from that and the solar panels and the little hydro-generator at the end of the pond. It's not a pond, obviously, it's a reservoir, but it looks like a pond 'cause it's small and has reeds and frogs and cranes and..."

Charlie went quiet, blushed, and said softer, "Of course, you know that, 'duh'. You're the electrician."

She couldn't help but smile wide in a mix of delight and embarrassment at the attention she was getting from Mark as she rambled onward. Taking a look to her father, though, caused that smile to waiver a bit. Robert added to the conversation, speaking about adding some more solar panels before speaking about Mark's work on the upgrades again.

Eventually the conversation shifted to one of Charlie's favorite subjects, adding a rabbit barn. Her father wasn't that keen on becoming a 'rabbit herder', but Charlie had been pressing him on it since she was little girl. That might have sounded odd, of course, because Charlie was well aware that the reason you raised 'bunnies' on a farm was to eventually cut their heads off, skin them, and eat them. She wasn't excited about this because she wanted to play Snow White and run about the forest surrounded by the little creatures as they sang Disney songs.

Sarah made her pitch for hot chocolate, and no sooner had Mark agreed that it would be nice, Charlie asked, "Can we have it on the porch, daddy?"

Robert nodded, and soon enough they were all out on the Big House's impressive wooden porch with steaming mugs of thick, whip cream topped cocoa. There were three old but solidly built rocking chairs there, one for each of the Perkins. In addition, there were a pair of rattan porch swings suspended from the well built home's heavy rafters, with comfortable but easy to clean padding.

Charlie headed eagerly for one of the swings, turning with the plan of gesturing Mark to sit next to her there. But she got a glare from her father and simply froze. Almost simultaneously (as if knowing the trouble her daughter had been about to get herself into, which she had), her mother spoke up as she neared the other swing, "Mister Phillips, Mark, why don't you come sit with me and tell me more about yourself. What did you do before you came to work for my husband? And what about your family? I hope it is large and happy and eager to see you soon again?"

The two of them sat on the swing while the disheartened Charlie took her usual rocking chair, which was fortunately the nearest to her mother and Mark. She listened to him speak, her eyes only leaving him when she felt either of her parent's chastising her with their own eyes.

After quite sometime, long after the cocoas had been depleted, Sarah stood from the swing and said, "Well, I think it's time for me to go in, before the mosquitos discover me and begin their little vampire dance."

She moved closer to her husband, gave him a stern glare, and suggested rather firmly, "Why don't we leave the young folk to chat a few minutes before Mister Phillips needs to return to his cabin."

Sarah looked to the new hand, smiled, and corrected, "Mark. It was wonderful to have you for dinner. We will have to do it again soon, or, Maria does a mean barbeque, so maybe we'll come out and join you and the hands soon, tomorrow or the next night."

Again Sarah glared at her husband, reaching a hand out and waggling her fingers expectantly as she said, "Let's go, Robert."

He shot a hard look at the 'young folk', who of course included his virgin daughter and the beast who was first in line to sully everything good about her. But Robert took his wife's hand, stood, and as he was leaving looked directly at Charlie and said, "Five minutes. You have work to do early tomorrow."

"Come along, Robert," Sarah pressed with an upbeat tone, "let's go inside."

The pair finally departed, and Charlie looked to Mark with a wide, delighted smile. The four of them had been sitting there in only the illumination of a full moon low on the horizon until now, attempting to minimize the number of flying insects attracted by the porch light. It was very romantic, Charlie thought, not that she had any experience with what was or wasn't romantic, of course.

Now, though, those porch lights suddenly came on, and beyond the door the girl could hear her father repeat, "Five minutes."

Charlie looked back to Mark, blushing. She wanted so badly to stand and move from the rocker to the swing, but she knew that she didn't dare do it. Still, it was enough to just be out here like this with the most beautiful man she'd ever known.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Mark was pleasantly surprised during dinner to hear Charlotte talk at length about the renewables being used on the farm. Perhaps she knew more about his job than he figured. Between being home schooled and her time at the Community College, Mark had made some assumptions. As their conversation waned, he realized he'd have to make some new ones about the young daughter of his boss.

Mark didn't know much about agriculture, but he was happy to listen and watch Charlotte talk at length about her rabbit barn idea. He could see the passion in her eyes about it and he liked to see that she had something she was driving to do. He'd seen so many of his friends drift around listlessly, even those that had gone to college. To see her get that fire in her eyes about something was admirable to see.

The cocoa on the porch was a wonderful way to end the night. Mrs. Perkins, Sarah, was right about that. It cooled off considerably after the sun went down around here so the warm beverage was just the handwarmer he needed. He made sure to keep a good hold of his mug as he sat with Sarah and let her talk his ear off. Contrary to her hopes, Mark didn't come from a very big family.

His older brother worked in the city, managing logistics for a manufacturing company. His mom and dad each had one sibling each so his uncle was as much of his extended family as he saw regularly. His uncle had a couple of kids, but they lived with their mother who had divorced him years ago. He could tell that nugget of information didn't sit well with the Perkins, but Sarah didn't say anything about it. Mark wasn't unhappy with his small family, but he did make up for it with a wide network of friends.

While no means the most popular kid in school, Mark wound up gathering a lot of friends along the way. A lot of them treated him as the big brother of the group. He routinely gave rides and couches for people to flop on. He was usually the planner when someone decided a get-together was in order. He'd volunteer to be the designated driver if one was needed. As a result, a lot of people came to trust Mark and rely on him. He didn't want to share all that for fear of bragging, but Sarah managed to draw it out of him over the course of dessert on the porch.

He could tell that his answers were satisfactory when Sarah drew her husband inside. He smiled, glad to see that he'd gained that level of trust with Mrs. Perkins. When they were alone, Mark finally gave Charlotte his undivided attention. "It was nice to get to see you for dinner, Charlotte. I hope you get to come down for the barbecue soon," he said, sliding to the end of the swing closer to her rocking chair.

"Five minutes," came Mr. Perkins voice from the other side of the screen door. The porch lights flicked on, spoiling the nice moonlight shining down on them. Maybe he wasn't as trusted as he hoped.

Looking back over at Charlotte, he smiled. "You looked very nice in that dress for as long as it lasted," he admitted, speaking softly so her parents couldn't hear easily. "I guess you don't get to dress like that around the farm very often."

 

[PollyWannaCracker]

"It was nice to get to see you for dinner, Charlotte."​

Charlie smiled wide and blushed at the use of her full given name. She rarely ever heard it in a polite tone. Her parents used it when she was in trouble or absent and being searched for, and the preacher at the church they went to mostly for holidays and special occasions had insisted on calling her Charlotte for the whole of her life.

"I hope you get to come down for the barbecue soon," he said, sliding to the end of the swing closer to her rocking chair."​

A chill ran up Charlie's spine as the man moved closer. She'd been wanting to actually move over to the swing, which was just wide enough for two people to sit comfortably but not necessarily intimately. You know, unless the 'wanted' to sit intimately.

"We do the barbeque quite a bit, but mostly just spontaneously," Charlie told Mark. "Twice a year, sometimes more, we buy half a steer or hog and Maria's husband Javier does one of those in-the-ground, Hawai'ian style roasts. We already did the spring one and the summer one's quite a ways off, but who knows, maybe a third one."

"You looked very nice in that dress for as long as it lasted," he admitted, speaking softly.​

Charlie couldn't help but divert her eyes, smiling as she giggled.

"I guess you don't get to dress like that around the farm very often."​

A laughed escaped Charlie's mouth before she could silence it. She looked back to the door, then the even closer window for signs of either of her parents before looking to Mark again. She said even softer than he'd spoken, "My daddy would have had a heart attack. Probably a good idea momma intercepted me."

She looked away again, her expression revealing obvious embarrassment. When she looked back, she corrected what she'd said, "My father and my mother, I mean."

She checked for eavesdroppers again, seeing known, then explained, "Sometimes, I sound like a little girl. The way I talk. Daddy and momma."

Charlie screwed up her courage and (as she realized that she was trembling from the cold, the intimacy, or a combination of the two) said in her most adult tone, "But I'm not a little girl, Mark."

Whether he got a response out or not, the porch light flickered and the front door opened. Charlie looked back to see no one in the doorway, but she knew one of her parents was just out of sight. 'I'm 20 years old,' she reminded herself, not that that meant anything to her parents. To them, she was still their little Charlotte.

"I have to go in, Mister Phillips. Mark," she said, standing and turning hurriedly for the door. But stopping short, she looked back to him, smiled in delight, and said, "I'm so happy you came to dinner. And, I'm so happy you are staying here longer."

Inside, she heard someone (her father, it would turn out) clear his throat, and with girlish energy, she hurried inside, waved to Mark, and shut the door. She would watch him from inside until she was told to get to her room.

Up there, of course, she would once again find satisfaction to fantasies of Mark Phillips being with her in a most inappropriate fashion.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

It was so nice to get to share even a few short words with Charlotte on the porch. She seemed to enjoy it as well, letting him know that she was well aware of how protective her dad was of her and her purity. As their time wound down, she finally shared how it made her feel.

"Sometimes, I sound like a little girl. The way I talk. Daddy and momma. But I'm not a little girl, Mark."

He was about to say something when the lights flickered. He wanted to tell her that he could see she wasn't a little girl. He wanted to share his hope that her parents would learn that as well. But it was their reluctance to do so that drew her back inside for the night. He sighed as their private time together was cut short for the night, but looked up as she turned back to him.

"I'm so happy you came to dinner. And, I'm so happy you are staying here longer."

Mark smiled as he got up from the swing. "I am too. Hopefully, this means that there will be more dinners ahead. You have a fine family, Charlotte. I enjoy spending time with them... and you." He said, hoping it wasn't stepping over a line. He was sure her father was just around the corner inside and didn't want him thinking he meant that in some impure, lascivious way. It felt like he was on a hair trigger and the slightest toe out of line could see Mark sent packing to protect his daughter.

He waved back at her as she neared the door and turned to make his way back down the hill to the cabins. Flicking out his phone, he turned on the flashlight to make sure he didn't catch a stray post hole or other obstruction on his way back to his place for the night. Arriving back full of food, it didn't take much for him to collapse into bed and pass out for the night.

He was up all the earlier the next day and he was out the door not long after. Putting away such a hearty farmer's dinner last night made him get back on his exercise routine the following morning. He'd stopped doing it while he was on the farm; his work on the electrical systems around the place had been quite the workout in its own way. Today, he felt the need to run off a little of the extra calories.

Being up as early as he was, it was the first time that he saw how early some of the farmhands got to work around the Perkins property. While he was doing laps around the irrigation pond, some were already working the fields to bring in the next harvest. He also saw how early Charlotte got to her chores around the farm. While he was finishing up his workout in the barn, she was riding her tractor around to feed the animals. It was a reflection of life on the farm.

He got to see it more and more over the next few days. Ever since the dinner, it felt like he and Charlotte kept crossing paths more and more during the day. Maybe it was the next batch of work around the animal stables or the planning he was doing around the renewable power systems that Mr. Perkins wanted. Whatever the explanation, he would smile and wave each time Charlotte crossed his path. They might steal a few seconds to chat about what one or the other was doing, but they were both so busy during the day that it never lasted.

More and more, the farmhands needled Mark. More than once he'd hear one saying that Mark was going to be fired any day now for all the chatting he's been doing with Charlotte. Even the wives would click their tongues about the "bad influence" he was being on Charlotte even though they hadn't done more than talk about work around the farm. He let it all go, worrying about the expanded scope of the contract as well as handling orders for new equipment.

Mark would swing by the house a few times. Not for dinner, but for business talks with Mr. Perkins about the hardware he wanted to order. Each time, he'd linger in the office, flashing a smile for Charlotte if she happened past during chores in the house. He was always careful to do it where Robert couldn't see, but something told Mark that he knew something was up. He would be kicked out of the house pretty quick without so much as a glass of water during the hot afternoon sun.

That's how the days went for a while. Mark was secretly glad for it. Charlotte was cute, but he stood to make a lot on this contract. He was really hoping he wouldn't have to end it prematurely. No matter how he felt about Charlotte... because he didn't have feelings for Charlotte... right?

 

[PollyWannaCracker]

If the first week of Mark being on the property before she's properly met him had been hard, the next week after Charlie had was excruciating. She'd decided even before he'd left the front porch that night of dinner that he was going to be her first boyfriend. Her first lover! Problem was, she didn't have the slightest idea of how to make it happen.

In the meantime, as she searched for options, she went about her work and sought every legitimate reason to cross paths with him. Robert Perkins was no idiot, of course, and his daughter knew that. So Charlie couldn't simply go walking into the milking barn to chat with Mark without having a reason for being in the milking barn. Same went with the cabins, the calf barn, the hay barn, and every where else Mark had been putting in his time.

So, it was a boon when Charlie learned that Mark was using anything and everything that fit the bill to begin working out in what everyone just called the Red Barn in the mornings. The Red Barn was side by side with the chicken coops, and it was Charlie's responsibility to attend to the coop each morning, letting the hens out for the day and counting them to ensure one hadn't been lost overnight to a rascal coyote that had been running about recently.

(One of the hands who had a .22 rifle with a night scope, specifically for such purposes, had tried several times to pick the little guy off but missed the shot or simply missed. Charlie didn't mind, though, as she liked the sound of the little guy when he sang some nights. What was the loss of a chicken compared to the lost of that touch of country life?)

Charlie had taken to letting out and counting the chickens as normal, then sneaking over to the back door of the Red Barn to slip inside and watch Mark. Sometimes he wore a tank top that showed off her arms so well, and other times (particularly on unusually warm mornings) he would take his shirt off. He was so beautiful! Oh, there was probably a better word to use to describe a man, but beautiful was the word Charlie had chosen.

He's also taken to running around the property, a route that took him down the road to the highway and back, out around the pond, and through the east wood. Charlie would check for her mother and father's current whereabouts at times and (if they were accounted for) would find a place from which she could see him finishe up. His body would be glistening from the sheen of sweat over his arms, torso, and legs. She'd never known that a man could run so far, so hard, and so fast before, and the sight of Mark at the end of the run was, well, beautiful.

It was this run of Marks and what seeing him at the end of it did to her that led Charlie to taking a bit of a risk one morning. The rest of the hands had shifted to the east side of the property to begin the installation of another row of solar panels, leaving the west side of the farm devoid of people once Mark had finished his run through it.

Charlie watched Mark emerge from the forest and pass the pond, then slow for his cool down walk back to his cabin. She was particularly 'bothered' this morning, tensing the muscles of her lower body (of her 'womanhood') and squeezing her thighs together, desperate for some sense of touch down yonder, even if it was only her own body doing it.

She needed to touch her, and she needed to touch herself now. Charlie could have returned to the house, to her bedroom, but that would mean telling her mother some story, such as 'I need to change my clothes 'cause I started my period' or something else that Sarah would pick apart because of her Sherlock Holmes abilities to sniff out lies and deception.

Instead, Charlie turned away from the farm's buildings and ran out to the edge of one of the hay fields that had recently been baled. She knew there would be no one out this direction. She peeled her blouse from her body and laid it at the bottom of a giant, round bale, then proceeded to strip from her body every other piece of clothing until she was as naked as the day she'd been born.

Sitting on her blouse with her back to the big bale, Charlie found her pussy, wetted her finger tips, and went to work massaging her clitoris as she'd been doing daily, sometimes more, since dinner night with her folks and Mark Phillips. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and imagined the beautiful, fit, manly man electrician putting his skilled fingers to her, his mouth to her, his tongue to her, and finally his cock to her.

Much of what she pictured with her 'mind's eye' was entirely fabricated in her brain. Charlie had never watched internet porn, had never huddled with girlfriends in a bedroom closet looking at male stripper magazines, and certainly had never watched a couple fucking and sucking each other life. But she understood the basics and was certain that her fantasies were pretty much spot on.

Charlie was beginning to moan aloud, her hips up and down to compliment the motions of her fingers upon her clit, moving closer and closer to another explosive orgasm, when in the back of her mind her semi-conscious brain thought it detected the sound of something pounding nearby. She opened her eyes quickly to the horror of finding Mark coming to a stop barely twenty yards away, pausing from a run that he 'should' have already ended long ago and far, far away.

Like a Venus Flytrap snapping shut to enclose it flying prey, Charlie's widely spread legs slammed close to hide her womanhood. She pulled her legs up in a form of fetal position to hide her bared chest, then (realizing that Mark probably had a clear view of her pussy from there) crossed her ankles before her near the ground as she called out in panic, "OH, GOD, MARK! WHAT'RE YOU DOING HERE?"

 

[such_a_bad_man]

"OH, GOD, MARK! WHAT'RE YOU DOING HERE?"

Mark snapped out of his job to the hay field. He had run to the field at the end of his workout, having a thought about using the massive bales as push sleds of a fashion. With them being round, he figured they might roll. Not being a country kid, he did not realize how heavy they are. After trying with the first couple he came across, he went deeper into the field to try some of the rounder looking ones. He never expected to find a naked Charlotte out in the field.

Spinning around immediately, Mark put up his hands. "I'm sorry! I didn't think anyone was out in this field. Truly, I wasn't trying to sneak a peek or anything..." He said, backing up so he didn't have to shout so loud to talk with her. It was bad enough he stumbled across her in this state of undress; she didn't need the entire farm knowing about it.

"Please, I won't look if you wanna slip your clothes back on... If you'd prefer, I can just head back to the cabins and we can act like this never happened," he offered, unsure what she wanted to happen here. He swallowed nervously as the image of her flare-legged and naked against the hay bale was burned into the backs of his retinas. Even as he closed his eyes, he could still picture it as bright as day in his head.

Her sun-kissed skin hinted that she must go naked under the sun a few times a year. He didn't really see any tan lines so she had no problem sunbathing without anyone seeing her. He tried not to get excited, but her body looked amazing. Years of working on the farm had done her body well. He shook that thought away, not wanting this moment to be about that. He was more concerned with helping mitigate her embarrassment. It was awkward enough around the farm as it was.

 

[PollyWannaCracker]

"I'm sorry! I didn't think anyone was out in this field."​

Charlie was absolutely horrified, and all she could think to do was hide her nakedness from Mark as best she could. Of course, all she had to do that with were her arms and legs.

"Truly, I wasn't trying to sneak a peek or anything..."​

"TURN THE HELL AWAY!" Charlie snapped at him. Talk he wanted about not trying to sneak a peek, the man was still very much facing her. Oh, he probably wasn't doing it on purpose, at least that was what she would tell herself later. He'd probably been in as much shock as she'd been, maybe even more.

He did turn, though, telling her:

"Please, I won't look if you wanna slip your clothes back on...​

Charlie hesitated, waiting to see if Mark just couldn't help but peek back. When he remained true to his gentlemanly self, she emerged from her fetal position to begin finding and donning her wayward items of clothing.

"If you'd prefer, I can just head back to the cabins and we can act like this never happened--"​

"NO!" Charlie cut him off more loudly than she'd planned. She continued redressing hurriedly, explaining, "No! You're not leaving. Not until ... not until we've talked about this."

It took far less time for her to get back into her clothes than it had this early morning when she'd dressed to come 'spy' on the handsome man. Even so, Charlie took a moment longer to adjust everything back to its perfect fit before telling him, "Turn around. Turn around, Mark."

When he did, Charlie was standing there with her legs tight together and her hands crossed before her in a way that just barely hid her nipples. (They were infuriatingly swollen as large as they ever had been for some reason, and Charlie didn't want Mark seeing them as they were oh so obvious through even her sports bra and tee shirt.)

Her heart was pounding and her breathing was labored as she stared at him, uncertain of what to say. She knew something had to be said, though. But she just couldn't come up with the words.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

"No! You're not leaving. Not until ... not until we've talked about this."

Mark nodded which felt immediately silly. He was nodding while facing away from her so there was no way she could tell that's what he was doing. He waited and wondered what there could be to talk about. He didn't see anything... well, he could guess what she was doing naked in a hay field, but he didn't dare mention it. He shifted on his feet, the field was uneven after the harvest so he had to readjust for good balance. It was all he could do until Charlotte gave him the 'all clear'.

"Turn around. Turn around, Mark."

Mark did as she said, finally putting down his hands. He wasn't sure why he had them raised. Maybe he was worried she might think he was going to put them on her. Maybe he wanted her to know he wasn't using a camera in his pocket. Whatever the reason, he felt it was the thing to do at the time, but it felt silly as he put them down. He took a few steps toward her now. She was redressed, but blushing furiously. She was definitely more embarrassed than he was, but Mark felt bad for interrupting her.

He waited for her to speak, since she was the one that said they needed to talk about it. The awkward silence that drew out of that pause made Mark swallow nervously. Rather than continuing to wait, he jumped in to fill the void.

"So... do you sneak away to this field a lot? Not to do... that, per se, but to do some chores? I thought I might add to my work out but if you will be working over here, I can choose other activities..." He began, frowning a bit at his poor choice of words. He wasn't sure what to say about the situation he stumbled on so he was talking around it. As he did, he realized how stupid he was sounding.

"I want you to know that I won't say anything. Not to the workers, and especially, not to your folks. They protect you too much as it is. If you need this space to handle what you need, I can leave it to you. I imagine they hear everything up in that big house of yours. I can stick to the Red Barn for my workouts in the morning," he offered, figuring this was not the first time she'd done this.

 

[PollyWannaCracker]

Charlie was desperate to say something, 'anything', but there simply were no words for what was happening inside her. The most beautiful man she'd ever known, the man she'd decided would claim her virginity before the end of the summer, had just come upon her while she was masturbating. MASTURBATING! How in God's name did something so horrendous happen?

Oh, Mark might not have seen much, but Charlie didn't know that. Her eyes had been closed, her head back, and the fingers of one hand parting her labia as the fingers of the other did counterclockwise circles like a NASCAR driver on a Sunday afternoon.

It was Mark who finally broke the silence:

"So... do you sneak away to this field a lot? Not to do... that, per se, but to do some chores? I thought I might add to my work out but if you will be working over here, I can choose other activities..."​

"Shut up, Mark!" Charlie snapped harshly, not really even realizing that she was speaking the words.

The silence returned for several seconds, though it felt like an eternity. Charlie tried to look at the man, but each time she did, she failed to maintain the stare and diverted her eyes to the ground again. Again, he broke the silence with an apologetic tone.

"I want you to know that I won't say anything. Not to the workers, and especially, not to your folks. They protect you too much as it is. If you need this space to handle what you need, I can leave it to you. I imagine they hear everything up in that big house of yours. I can stick to the Red Barn for my workouts in the morning."​

"Shut up!" she repeated, though, this time, the desperation for a 'do over' of the last few minutes was so obvious in her voice. She couldn't believe that he was trying to arrange a proper and more private time and place for her to play with her pussy! Much more softly, Charlie said, "Just ... don't talk ... please."

It was ironic, of course, that Charlie had demanded he stay here to talk and yet now she didn't want him to. But her mind was still trying to wrap itself around what had happened. Her heart was still beating so hard that she could feel it in her chest and head both.

Very softly, barely loud enough for Mark to hear, Charlie whispered, "I've never been so embarrassed in all my life."

 

[such_a_bad_man]

"Shut up! Just ... don't talk ... please."

Mark stood there, biting his lip. He wasn't sure what to do now. Charlotte was the one that said they needed to talk about this, but now, she was telling him to shut up. He wasn't sure how to proceed, but he figured it was better to let Charlotte breathe and collect her thoughts. He stood where he stopped walking, waiting for some sign that she was ready to talk. He wasn't going to leave her until he felt they had settled things and understood each other. Not an easy feat given what he wandered into.

"I've never been so embarrassed in all my life."

Mark couldn't help a chuckle. "Yeah, at least it was me and not your mom. Trust me, this could have gone a lot worse," Mark offered, hinting at an embarrassing story of his own. "All I can say is that time changes stories. Five years from now, we will be laughing over this story at a party or a bar if we run into each other again." Mark tries to soften things, but can't tell how this will land in her ears. "Just, don't be so hard on yourself, or me. I'm sorry I intruded on your privacy. Would you like me to go now?"