***
CHAPTER 2
***
The week after Master died, I moved with Katie into the house, permanently. We decided to share her bedroom, even though it was the smallest in the house. We just couldn't move into the Masters' old room; there were just too many bad memories.
Even if we didn't quite feel ready for it, Katie and I were on our own. The farm had to keep running. Crops needed planting. We had our lives to keep living.
At first it was pretty hard. Not many people wanted to do business with a nineteen-year old Chink. But our usual customers had gotten to know me in the past couple of years, and the majority agreed to continue our business partnerships. And as time went by, business went back to normal.
The rhythms of our life kept us going. Wake up, do your job, go to sleep. Plant, tend, harvest, sell. Smile for Katie. She was depending on me to keep us together, to keep us afloat.
The year after Master died turned out to be a year of big change, and also a year of even more tragedy. To be honest, Miss Rachel had an even worse year than we did.
There was some conflict in another country, and our President said that we had to do something about it. For weeks, it was the only thing the news would ever talk about. And then a few months later, Bill Taylor decided that he needed to go.
Miss Rachel was, understandably, rather upset. Bill hadn't been recruited. No one was forcing him to re-join the Army. There was the farm they had just started together. And besides, at 23, Miss Rachel's biological clock was ticking and he'd promised they would start their family. But Bill was dead set on joining. He said it was his duty as an American citizen.
In the end, Bill left. Miss Rachel was torn: half-proud of her husband, and half- scared to death about losing him. The last time he'd gone into the Army was more than enough for her, and that was a time of peace. This was a real war.
Running the farm was left to her. She knew just barely enough to keep things moving. The farm staff could keep everything in order until Bill got back. And I promised Bill I'd look after his wife.
Almost immediately, Miss Rachel became a frequent visitor to our house. After the day's work, every day, she would come by just to talk to us. Katie would meet her at the door with a big hug and ask, "How are you holding up, Miss Rachel?"
Every day, Miss Rachel answered with some variation of, "Not so well, Katie. Home is just an empty shell without my Bill."
A year later, in the wintertime, a black sedan with military plates pulled up to the Taylor farm. Two uniformed officers gave Miss Rachel a folded American flag and Letter of Apology from the President. Bill's body would be coming back in a few weeks.
***
Bill's funeral was six months past, and I was visiting Miss Rachel to look over her bookkeeping. She could do the math just fine, but every so often a supplier or customer would get the idea he could rip off the poor widowed woman who didn't know any better. So I would always review things to make sure no one was taking advantage of her.
"You want a cold beer, Johnny?"
"Yes, thank you, Miss Rachel."
She brought me a cold bottle from the fridge, the top already popped off. I took a swig then set it on the table, returning my attention to the accounting.
"Are you old enough to drink yet, Johnny?"
I smiled and turned to her. "Not yet, Miss Rachel." I very deliberately took another gulp. "But I'll be turning twenty-one in another month."
"Well, as long as you're old enough to vote... or to fight..." Her voice trailed off as she thought about that last phrase. I'm sure Bill was in her mind right then.
Then she put on a new smile and turned to me, "Hell, as long as you're 'legal'." It was a wolfish grin she flashed me this time.
I just grinned right back at her. "Legal, and fully capable anytime you need me."
"Mmm, I'll have to take you up on that sometime." Her tongue trailed out and she licked her lips. Her green eyes were shining.
Ever since that first time I'd met Miss Rachel, we'd had a little bit of a flirtatious friendship. I was a young man, thinking about sex every two minutes and about whichever female crossed my path. She was a pretty young lady, used to having men fantasize about her. But this was the first time I felt real heat coming from her. She was a young widow, still in the flower of her youth and attractiveness, but she didn't have a man to really appreciate that part of her anymore; I was the closest thing she had. Right then, I knew I would have to start being more careful around her.
***
That night, Katie was in front of the mirror drying out her hair after the evening's shower. My mind was still going over the heat in Miss Rachel's eyes, the thrust of her tits, and the cold fire of the icy beer she'd given me pouring down my throat.
I crept up behind my beautiful blonde, ripping away the towel and lifting her up in my arms. Katie squealed in my grip and didn't stop until I planted her flat on her back across our bed. "Johnny, what are you-?"
Her voice gave out when my tongue hit her clit.
I wanted to bring her pleasure, but the need in my loins was too great. I stayed down there just long enough to get Katie's juices flowing, and then I stood up and shucked my pants.
Katie wasn't complaining. Actually, she just giggled as I clambered atop her body and without further foreplay, I shoved my cock inside of her. And then I was fucking like a machine.
"Yes, yes, yes..." Katie chanted in my ear as I drilled her. It added to my stimulation but all that mattered was my release. Less than three minutes passed before I lunged my body forward one last time and exploded, pumping out a gallon of cum in successive waves that splashed against Katie's womb.
When I was done, collapsed against Katie's firm tits and gasping for breath, she stroked my hair and asked, "What was that all about?"
