Note: As always, this is a fantasy. Breeding is a powerful, amazing fantasy but in real life deserves a lot of caution around the play. More so, sadly, in the US's current state. Kinksters, remember that consent and communication are the basis of all sexual goodness.
The sun shone lazily through layers of fog, illuminating the vacant lot with a delicate light that made even its barren, sandy earth look promising. Evie checked the time on her phone, and looked around; four people had shown up, so today's planting should go quickly. Tom clearly felt the same; without waiting for stragglers, he got up in the bed of the pickup truck and clapped his hands once, drawing people's attention.
"Thanks so much for coming out to help us regreen this lot," he said, "By the pickup here you'll find gloves, a bucket of seeds, and a weird long tube with a bulb on the end." As he spoke, Evie held up each of the items, and then Tom jumped down and together they showed how to use it: Ram the rod into the earth, squeeze the handle to make a cavity below, and drop a seed into the open funnel at the top. "Remember that each pole digs the right size for the seeds in the assigned bucket, don't mix them up," Tom said. People nodded, eager to get started. Evie and Tom both led the way, demonstrating how to work effectively in a pair.
A couple hours later, that portion of the work was done. Tom jumped up to thank everyone, and to say this was all anyone had signed on for, but they'd love a volunteer or two to stay and help with spreading the mulch. He stressed no one should feel pressure, but if anyone wanted to spend a bit more time in the sun inhaling the scent of cedar while working, they were welcome.
In the end, only one person stayed, a young woman in a pair of overalls, slightly baggy t-shirt, and brunette ponytail threaded back through a baseball cap. Evie hadn't noticed her so much during the work, she was an unobtrusive presence, but not a weak or uncompelling one. As the crowd dispersed, she seemed to come more into focus. Tom smiled at this demure girl and said, "It was Jo, wasn't it?.
"Yes," she replied, and smiled, "And you were Tom and Evie."
There was a moment there, just a calm, peaceful moment between them, each of them marking this beat of introduction, feeling comfortable with each other. Then Tom said, "Jo, thanks for staying. It really makes it more fun for us to have another working with us; it keeps our perspective on this fresh."
Evie handed Jo a pitchfork while Tom ripped open a bag of the cedar-chip mulch and poured it into descending piles on the slight slope. Evie and Jo followed behind. Evie showed her how to plunge the tines into the mulch and turn it over as a faster method than just shoveling, and how to avoid the seedlings they just planted with a little circular motion of the pitchfork. Within a minute Jo's motions matched her own, a smooth swing and sway of well-coordinated muscles, under the direction of someone determined to get things right. Tom was surprised when they caught up to him, and sprinted back to the truck to get another bag.
Evie and Jo leaned on their handles, and Evie thought of what a nice flush the work had brought to Jo's slightly pale complexion, and again felt a serene comfort with her, unpressured by her presence. She noticed they stood nearly exactly the same height, and found herself flicking her eyes over Jo curiously; the outfit she wore made it hard to read her body type, but something in the way she stood reminded Evie of herself. She felt a curious note of recognition.
Tom was back, going faster this time as he spilled the mulch out and headed back for another bag, and for the next half hour they worked in smooth concert together, breathing hard but with the pleasure that can only be brought by accomplishing a task in a team with physics synchronized. The smell of cedar, the sunlight lancing through the dust they raised as they worked made it seem like they were engaged in some ceremony, and in a way they were, giving life to new greenery.
"Wow," Tom said, as they finished, "Damn good job." "That was fun," Jo said, and fanned herself a bit, "I haven't worked that hard outdoors in a while. I'd forgotten how it makes me feel."
Evie dug into the cooler on the back of the truck and passed out cold drinks. Tom took his in one hand and went up and down the rows of seedlings, picking up the torn bags of mulch he'd discarded along the way, neatening a pile here and there. Evie took a long swig of her drink, and said to Jo, "You seem like you've done something like this before."
Jo's throat was pulsing as she drank thirstily herself, and Evie's eyes lingered on that sight, until Jo responded, "Nothing like this, but I love gardening and plants and it seemed pretty straightforward. And I'm really looking forward to seeing what it looks like as it grows in over time, so I was motivated."
Tom returned, packing away the last of the tools. "Can we give you a lift anywhere?" he asked Jo, but she shook her head.
