The Drifter

When we entered the house, Carla's grandfather was just finishing his sandwich and washed it down with a bottle of beer. Her grandmother, a tiny, thin woman with gray hair tied in a bun, sat next to him at the round oak table with a cup of tea and half a sandwich on her plate. I noticed she didn't eat the crust. Our ham and cheese sandwiches were waiting for us on pale green plates. A pitcher of lemonade sat in the center of the table and next to our plates were two empty mason jars to drink from. I could have gone for a beer but was reluctant to ask since it wasn't offered.

Carla sat down in the chair next to her grandmother and I sat across from her.

"Help yourself to the lemonade," her grandmother said to me then turned to Carla. "So how's accounting school going?"

"It's good. I have one more year then I have to see if I can find a job. Uncle Charley said he might be able to hire me in his firm, but he'll have to see if his business picks up. He said the recession has hurt since several of his clients went out of business."

Her grandfather shook his head, "I know about that. I'm just about holding on," he said, nodding and shaking his head. "Every month the price of feed and seeds goes up and it's hard to get a decent price for the cattle at the slaughter house. It's the middlemen who make the money. It almost doesn't pay to be a rancher these days. It sure ain't like it used to be."

Carla was quiet while her grandfather spoke.

"Well, you sure have a beautiful place," I said, pouring myself some lemonade, then took a bite of my sandwich. "I'm glad to have the chance to help out and earn a few bucks and get to know your granddaughter. She's a good hard worker." I glanced at her and thought how sexy she looked in that tight red shirt, but also how pretty she was now that she was relaxed with me.

"Thanks," Carla said and looked at me with her dimpled smile.

"Yes, she's a good girl. Always willing to come out and help us when we need an extra hand. She was raised right, even though she lost her dad in Iraq."

"Oh, I didn't know that." I glanced at her and saw her tense and swallow, but not react and sensed how much she holds in.

"It ain't easy losing a son, but he was doing his duty just like I did in Vietnam in the Sixties."

I didn't want to say anything about those two wars because I was opposed to the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan and remembered going on marches protesting the war in Vietnam with my dad during the Seventies.

"Anyway, her mom did her best and they're a good church going family. Carla always did well in school and she works at that youth center in Jay. We're proud of her, just like we were proud of her father."

Carla listened and took a bite of her sandwich, but I could tell she was uncomfortable by the conversation, especially after what had been unleashed in the hay loft.

"We still have to get the hay in," she said, "It was raining too hard before."

"Too bad my son can't take over the ranch," he continued as if she hadn't said anything. "Don't know what I'm going to do with this place when I can't keep it up, that is, if I don't lose it to the bank like some of the others have around here."

Carla's grandmother took a deep breath and reached for his empty plate, then picked up her plate with the crumbs and pieces of crust. "Everything will be alright, George. You have to have faith. That's what it takes...faith."

"I know you're right, but it ain't easy working all these years and ending up with nothing. Faith don't pay the damn bills."

I had finished my sandwich and and glanced over at Carla and sensed her discomfort. She closed her eyes and looked away. I could feel her withdrawing into her quiet, shy self and sensed she was holding in pain and memories. At the same time, I couldn't help but feel captivated by her almost angelic face, her smooth, radiant skin, the soft lips I had kissed. I could sense she was caught in two worlds-the world she had grown up in without a father, her religious family, her hardworking grandparents and the expectations of finishing her accounting course, and then working for her Uncle Charley. But also there was an awareness of her sexual yearning and desire for something more. I remembered how she expressed her need for adventure when I told her about my life and how she looked at me, as if the thought of adventure awakened a secret desire to be free.

Sitting at the table, I wanted to be alone with her, to hold her, reach inside her hidden self and help her become the real Carla, the woman who was imprisoned by expectations to be the good girl.

"I miss my horse, Daisy," she said, changing the course of the conversation.

"Did you have a horse," I asked, glad that the conversation had changed.

"Yes, I had Daisy until a few years ago. I loved riding her. I loved feeling the wind when we rode through the pasture and over to Peter's Pond and I could swim there while Daisy ate the grass. That was one of my favorite things to do."

"Sounds like fun," I said.

"You were quite the rider," her grandfather said.

"Hey, I have a picture of Daisy and me up in my room." She suddenly stood up. "Would you like to see it?"

"Sure," I said, completely surprised that she was inviting me to her room in front of her grandparents.

"We'll just be a minute," she said to them before they could react. "I want to show Josh that picture of Daisy and then we'll go out and get the hay up in the loft."

Carla dashed over to the stairway. "Come on, Josh. I really want you to see my picture of Daisy."

I'm not sure what her grandparents thought. I'm sure they were shocked, but Carla didn't seem to care when she ran up the well worn steps and I followed, amazed at her sudden audacity. I don't believe she did that.

When we entered her room, she closed the door and pushed me up against it, wrapping her arms around me and we kissed, her body pressed against mine. I couldn't believe how daring Carla had become, but sensed she was determined to take advantage of this opportunity to let her passionate, sexuality emerge.

She dropped to her knees, unbuttoned my jeans, lowered the zipper, grabbed my hard cock and looked up at me, "I want this," she said and started licking and sucking my cock with hunger and energy. I just gave in to her hot slurping mouth and her tongue moving up and down my hard cock.

She didn't seem to care that her grandparents were downstairs, probably wondering about their granddaughter suddenly taking a stranger up to her bedroom, but I wasn't going to argue with her actions and grabbed her hair and fucked her mouth, knowing the two of us were now throwing caution to the wind and riding the waves of an adventure with no idea where it would take us.

I looked down at her taking my thrusting cock in her warm, wet mouth, both of us trying to keep our sounds down. She snaked her hand inside her tight cutoffs and started fucking herself while giving me the blow job of my life. Just before I was about to explode, she took her mouth away, gasping for air and looked up at me, saliva on her lips and glistening on my swollen cock.

While I watched her hand moving inside, bulging her tight cut-offs, her wet mouth continued devouring my swelling cock. I looked down at her moving her fingers faster and harder, my hard cock filling her mouth.

She moved her mouth faster up and down my cock as I pumped harder and deeper, her lips and tongue bringing me closer to an intense orgasm. Her fingers moved faster in her pussy when suddenly I let loose and shot gobs of cum into her mouth and saw it dribbling down her chin. She then fell onto her back, her legs wide apart, her hand still moving wildly inside her tight cut-offs. Her eyes stared hungrily up at my limp wet cock dangling from my jeans. Her mouth was wide open and I could see her choking back a scream as she convulsed wildly before she collapsed on the floor with her legs wide apart, her mouth wide open. Damn that was hot.

I got down on my knees between her legs, leaned over to kiss her and tasted my cum on her lips. With her arms wrapped around me, she held me to her warm, soft body.

"Thanks for inviting me to see a picture of your horse." I smiled into her eyes.

"You're quite welcome," she said, smiling. "Did I surprise you?"

"Yes, but you're the surprise."

"Yes, I think I'm surprising myself. I told you, I needed an adventure."

"I know and I think we're going to have a wilder adventure before I leave."

"But I thought you said no expectations." She looked up at me with a devilish smile.

"You know the old saying,'make hay while the sun shines.'"

Carla laughed and pushed me off of her just we heard, "Carla, what's going on up there?"

"We'll be right down, Granny. I was just showing Josh more pictures of Daisy," Carla shouted, while I stood up and zipped my jeans.

I chuckled as Carla got up, then glanced around the room at her bed with four posts, a pink quilt and two puffed up pillows."Nice room," I said, looking at the two windows with white frilly curtains.

"Yes, they keep this room for me. I used to spend a lot more time here when I was younger. Now it's just once in awhile, but always at haying time."

"Carla," her grandmother called again, louder.

"Coming, Granny," she answered, then giggled and whispered, "I like cumming with you." She said it with a sly, playful smile and then opened the bedroom door.

I chuckled at her pun and followed her back downstairs.

Her grandmother was at the bottom of the stairs and Carla kissed her on the cheek, then rushed past her and continued to the screen door, "We've got work to do," she called back as the door slammed.

I followed her, surprised how casual and brazen she was being, so unlike the quiet, shy Carla I met that morning.

When we got up to the barn, I wasn't certain what to do since I had never done this kind of work before, but Carla was experienced.

"Pull the truck out of the barn and I'll get up in the loft with the block and tackle while you hook on the bales and pull the rope and I'll stack the hay."

"Sounds like a plan."

I hopped into the truck, drove it forward so the pile of hay was in position. Carla ran back into the barn and within a minute, looked down from the open loft door, waved and started lowering the rope with a big hook on it. I climbed into the back of the truck, grabbed the rope and hook.

After getting it around the twine, I pulled and lifted the bale up to where Carla could reach and take the hay to be piled. We got into a rhythm of hooking, pulling and piling.

I was impressed with how strong and swift she was. I could see the beads of sweat on her face and arms, how her tight T-shirt was clinging as she stretched and moved. I was sweating too and stopped to take my towel out to wipe my face and the back of my neck. We worked steadily for thirty or so minutes and had half of the hay in the barn.

"Let's take a break," she called. "We can switch jobs, if you want."

I sat down on one of the bales and she sat up in the loft with her legs hanging over the edge. I looked up at her and admired how pretty she looked with the cowboy boots and straw hat. I was thirsty and wished we had brought bottles of water out with us, then thought of the beer her grandfather had at lunch.

"I sure could go for a cold beer, right now," I shouted up.

"Me, too. I'd love one."

Just then her grandfather came out of the house and started walking to his truck. He looked up at us and then Carla surprised me.

"Hey, Gramps, how about bringing Josh and me a beer?"

He hesitated for a second, "You say, you want a beer," he shouted back and looked startled.

"Yeah, how about it? Please, bring each of us a beer."

He seemed puzzled. He shook his head. "Guess it's alright."

I was surprised that Carla did that, but I could tell her grandfather was too. I watched him walking towards the house, shaking his head as if bewildered. He turned back to look at me in the hay wagon and then up at Carla sitting on the edge of the hayloft.

"I think you shocked him," I yelled up at her.

"I also shocked Granny taking you up to my bedroom. I'm tired of being an angel."

I nodded and looked up at her sitting on the edge of the loft and wondered if it was me that brought this change, or she was already on the brink of breaking out of her shyness like a prisoner escaping from her prison. I didn't know the answer, but I liked seeing it and wondered what the next day would bring before I headed out.

When her grandfather returned with two open bottles of beer, Carla came down from the loft, hopped up into the back of the hay wagon and sat with me on one of the bales. He handed us the beer and we clicked bottles and both took big gulping drinks.

"Never saw you drink a beer, Carla," he said.

"I'm thirty-fours years old. I'm not a little girl, Gramps. I'm a woman and this isn't the first beer I've had."

"Does your mother know that?" he asked, watching her take a swig.

"Doubt it," she said. "But there are other things she doesn't know."

"Really, is that so?"

He rubbed his chin and looked at her sitting next to me. "Well, guess I better get back to fixing that fence in the pasture," he said and walked back to his truck parked in front of the house. He got in, backed up and turned around and looked over at us sitting in the back of the hay wagon.

"Thanks for the beer, George," I yelled, lifting it. "See you later."

Carla took another gulp of her beer and leaned against me, pressing her arm against mine. "Am I surprising you?"

"Not really, I could see through your shyness this morning. I knew there was a passionate woman behind your shyness."

"You were right, but I'm surprising myself. I've never let myself feel like this before."

"Why?"

"Fear and not feeling good about myself. All the expectations. It's exhausting being me." She sighed deeply and took a gulp of beer.

"What made you change?"

"You know why. You did it."

"Maybe, but you had to want to change."

"I was afraid and I'm really shy, but you touched something in me the way you talked. You really turned me on and when you grabbed me up in the hayfield, I wanted to let loose and now I just want to be the real me, not the good little girl like everyone thinks I am. I want to be bad, but I also want to be loved."

"Bad? Loved?"

"Yeah, I have fantasies. I met some guys online and I watch porn. I've gone to bars and I play with myself imagining a guy taking me, but then I want him to fall in love with me. That's what I want-to be taken, ravished by someone who also loves me. That would be a dream come true."

"You're being honest, but I know what you mean by bad. That's why you're wearing those tight cut-offs and no bra under that t-shirt. You want to turn guys on."

"Right, I do, but I was afraid to really let go until today. I never met anyone like you before.

But I'm not a virgin. In fact, I almost got married a few years ago to a guy."

"What happened, why didn't you get married?"

"He didn't get it. He only cared about himself and he didn't have any imagination. His name is Allen and wants to be a doctor. It was always the same thing. I needed more...a lot more because there's this other side of me—a wild side. I knew I wouldn't last with him. When we broke up he called me all kinds of names. Everything was my fault."

"Too bad." I took a final gulp of the beer.

"We're still friends, I guess. He's got another girlfriend and I'm happy for him, but I can tell he hasn't forgiven me for breaking off the engagement before we got married."

Carla finished her beer then stood up while I continued sitting. She moved in front of me, straddling my legs, then sat down, putting her arms around me, pushing her tits against my chest and started grinding her pussy against my cock. She opened my mouth with her tongue. My cock got hard and I grabbed her ass and pulled her against me and started thrusting my cock against her pussy.

I knew we couldn't do much because her grandmother might see us, but we both wanted to. Our kissing grew fiercer, but then we pulled our mouths apart, gasping. We looked at each other. Suddenly she stood up, her bare legs on each side of mine, her cowboy boots next to my feet, her tight cut-offs pressing against her crotch an inch from my mouth, her hard nipples poking at her tight t-shirt. It was all I could do not to grab her and throw her down on the hay wagon floor and fuck her.

"We better get back to work," she said, still breathing heavily and looked down at my cock bulging in my jeans, then looked at the farmhouse.

"Right, let's get the rest of this hay in."

"Yes, we better."

She took a deep breath, then hopped off and ran back into the barn, her round ass straining her cut-offs. Damn, she's driving me crazy.

We continued working in the hot sun, both of us sweating. It was good to see the hay wagon almost empty. We had six or seven bales to go. I was tired and moving a little slower, but Carla stood up in the loft waiting for me to hook up another bale.

"Keep going, we're almost done," she shouted.

I took a deep breath and grabbed another bale and pulled it up to the loft. I thought about my sleeping bag up there and how good it would be to rest. When the last bale was lifted, Carla grabbed it and shouted down, "Come on up here, your sleeping bag looks like an appealing place for a little rest."

"You're a mind reader," I called back and wiped my neck and head with the towel then jumped off the hay wagon. When I looked up, Carla was gone and I wondered if she was waiting for me in my hay-filled bedroom. Fortunately, there was a spigot for water just inside the barn. I grabbed our empty beer bottles, rinsed them out, filled them with water and managed to climb up the ladder holding both bottles in one hand.

"Great," she said and took a big swig. I lay down on my open sleeping bag and propped my head against my backpack and finished half the water in one gulp and loved how the cool wetness took away the dryness in my parched throat. Carla was lying on her side with her head resting on her hand propped up on her elbow. Her skin was still moist with beads of sweat on her arms and legs and above her upper lip. I looked up at her in the dappled light coming into the barn from the loft door, then glanced at the stacked hay bales covering over half of the floor.

"So where to next, drifter," she said, knowing I would be heading out in the morning after getting paid.

"Not sure, I never know until I get there. I take one day at a time."

"Wish I could live like that."

I didn't say anything but could see her eyes closing as if she was dreaming what that would be like. She sighed deeply then narrowed her eyes as she looked at me.

"What are you thinking?" I asked.

"You don't want to know," she said, biting her lower lip.

"Yes, I do, what's going on with you."

"I just got the wildest idea."

"What?"

"Take me with you."

"Are you serious?"

"I think I am."

"How can you do that? Don't you have your accounting classes and your job at the youth center?"

"I know but I think I need to get away."

I listened and could see her mind churning. I could see the way her blue eyes sparkled that she was excited.

"Take me with you. It'll be fun."

The thought of traveling with Carla, a sexy young woman who had released herself from her shy, frightened self, was tempting. I looked at her tits stretching her red t-shirt, her long smooth legs barely covered by her tight cut-offs, her dusty blonde hair still hanging loosely over her shoulders, a few strands hanging in front of her eyes, and wondered what it would be like to have a traveling companion who had told me how much she wants to be ravished. But then I realized, she also wants to be loved. I didn't know if I could be what she wanted and wondered if I could love anybody after breaking up with my wife.