Dirs Donuts

I wasn't sure how part one would be received and was pleasantly surprised by all the great comments along with several e-mail. Thank you so much, I also noticed my follower list increased nearly fifty people in two days. Wow, what an honor. Have a great 2021, it can't be any crazier than 2020 was. Now, go seize the day.

*

I hadn't been going into the coffee shop at all since the funeral, I talked with my managers daily but didn't see a need to be on site, my only interaction with other humans was if I went to the grocery store and Mari, (pronounced Mah-Ree} the lady who had taken care of the apartment ever since Jen bought it. I'd gotten to know her well during the time I'd lived with Jen, she was of Latin American descent but I wasn't quite sure, Jen thought it might be Belize or Honduras. Somewhere around the fifth week following Jen's memorial service I was thoughtlessly commiserating in the shower when the glass door rolled open, I spun to see Mari enter, naked as the day she was born.

"Good morning mister D., miss Jenny said you would need some extra attention about now, when she offered to pay me more I refused, you are a handsome man and you have been very good to me."

Before I could respond she had her body against mine with her arms around my neck standing on tippy toes to kiss me. Her warm body felt good against mine, her lips were full, plump, and tasted like cherry lip balm as our mouths melded. She moved my hand to the top of her butt cheek and pushed her pelvis into me, my dick took over from that point, it sprang to life standing tall and firm against her. She smiled as she stood back taking my dick in her hand.

"You have a nice big cock, miss Jenny said it wasn't so long that it would hurt me and that it was big around, she was right. I'm here to do whatever you want for as long as you want, miss Jenny wanted to make sure your needs were taken care of until you meet a nice girl and have babies."

To say I was dumbfounded is fairly accurate, I drank in her body with my eyes, she had large breasts, not a thin waist but not flabby either, her ass was big and plump just like her lips, her bush was a small natural triangle of tight but soft curls, with my hand drifting through her bush I moaned softly.

"I'm happy that you like it, miss Jenny said you preferred a woman to be natural. Mr. D, I want you to know you may have me anytime you would like. Miss Jenny asked me to move into the guest room, but if you don't mind I would like to sleep with you each night that you need sex."

I was still fuzzy headed about what had just happened, "Mari, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes mister D, I like sex, I like it every day if you can do that. I want to suck and make you cum in my mouth so I can taste you. If you would like my ass it's yours, or my pussy, anything you want mister D."

I wasted no time moving my hands to her large breasts, kneading them, caressing, pulling the nipples until her tits looked like the bullets on a fifty-nine Caddy front bumper. All the while she was kissing me with those large soft magical lips, I imagined having them wrapped around my cock and nearly came in her hand. I turned her toward the wall, she bent at the waist, gripped the safety grab bar pushing her ass back and spreading her feet apart about shoulder width.

Putting the tip of my dick against the opening to her vagina she pushed back, my body instinctively pushed forward, I was balls deep in one long slow stroke. She felt good, tight without hurting, vaginal walls gripping, trying to suck me deeper. Looking back over her shoulder she issued a command.

"Fuck me mister D, fuck me hard and play with my tits, I cum so good when my tits are played with and a cock is inside me."

If my hands weren't grasping her hips they were tugging at and squeezing her massive hanging orbs of delight. I say massive but in reality they were only 38 DD's, four to five inches of tit flesh hanging down swaying back and forth every time my body slammed into her jiggly ass. She let out a soft yell as her body shivered, her vagina clamped down and her hips pulsed back and forth, this fed my fires causing me to speed up as well as thrust harder.

To her credit she took every slam against her ass with gusto, pushing back into me, making little squealing noises with every stroke, when her body began to tense one more time mine did the same, as she stiffened and yelled "oh fuck" I pushed tight to her ass and unloaded. I hadn't touched my dick other than to piss or wash since Jenny had given me our last hand job and the juices within me were plentiful. Though I only had four heavy spurts it felt like I poured a bucket of cum inside that soft delicate pussy.

Standing behind her motionless and out of breath I could feel her pelvic muscles softly coaxing any remnant of sperm from my cock, it was as though her pussy wanted every drop I had to offer. This was the beginning of a routine that went on for approximately two months before I decided to get serious about the tall buxom redhead. Mari and I didn't do something every day, but at least five times a week, true to her word she loved sucking me until I came in her mouth, sometimes she would leave her chair, crawl to me, pat my leg to lift my butt, strip me to my knees and suck me dry.

She didn't mind deep throating me and seemed to do it with ease, but she always wanted me to cum in her mouth so she could taste and swallow instead of shooting it straight into her belly. With Mari being 49 she was well past the change so we never worried about protection of any sort, I knew that Jen had done a complete history on Mari before hiring her, including testing for STD's. Anal wasn't often or routine, that woman loved it in her ass as much as she loved it in her pussy. It was mostly me who inhibited the anal, I like it once in a while, but I love pussy all the time

Shortly after Mari and I began our little sex-fest I started going back into the coffee shop, I needed to be around people and not hide myself away. When I first began considering the redhead I determined she wasn't my type. In the past I'd always been drawn to a more petite side of the scale, but, as Jen had said, she wasn't overweight by any stretch of the imagination, she was big. A big, tall girl, at least six feet, broad shoulders for a girl, long legs and hips a bit wider than most girls who hadn't yet bore children.

Her butt seemed to fit the rest of her body perfectly, if she didn't have a coat on the first thing you noticed after her face was the ample amount of cleavage, cleavage that jiggled and moved with every step she took. That was another thing, she walked almost like a man, long strides, head held high, and always a smile or smirk on her face, lots of leg showing. I'd never seen her in anything but pencil skirts during the week, not tight and uncomfortable looking but certainly snug in the right places, also never longer than mid-thigh. The more I thought about her the more I determined, "dammit, she's a good-looking chick, maybe I'm selling myself short, she certainly likes to flirt with me."

I started making it a point to wait on her each morning, a large black bold coffee to go and two white frosted cake donuts. Through greetings and a few minutes talking each day I knew her name was Rebecca, friends called her Becca which she preferred. I also took note of the fact that when she picked up the usual on Saturdays she was wearing what appeared to be work clothes, or as we called them growing up on the farm, chore clothes. I knew the closest dairy was about five miles from town so that didn't make sense, she certainly never smelled like a dairy farm. Still, I wondered why she might be dressed like that every week if she wasn't doing manual labor of some sort, maybe she was a volunteer somewhere. I soon found out when I bravely asked one Saturday morning where she was going in chore clothes.

She smiled, "Chore clothes. Nobody but farm kids call them chore clothes. Are you a farm boy?"

"I am, well, I was, I haven't milked in years. Folks sold the herd some time back, now they just rent the land to neighbors that are still milking, you know how that goes, you can never have too much cropland."

She laughed, "Me too, farm girl, grew up pullin tits and doing chores, small world. In fact, that's where I go every weekend, home to help on the farm."

I looked at her quizzically, "But the closest dairy is just over five miles from town, one of the last that hasn't been swallowed by the city."

"Oh, that's my uncle Henry's, he just sold it to a huge developer, gonna build houses on his three hundred and forty acres. My folks live just outside of Jim Falls east of Uncle Henry's, they still milk and farm four hundred plus acres. Two of my brothers work the farm with mom and dad but I like to go back on weekends, helps keep my feet planted on the ground, living in the city can make you forget your roots if you aren't careful."

Boy didn't I know the truth of that comment. My folks lived two states away and though I didn't get to see them often ma still subscribed to the local news rag in my name just to keep me up to date on who died and other relevant information, you know, important things, like the high school sports I never played. But mom thought it was important to stay abreast of what went on where I grew up. When I first moved to the city I would laugh about it, now after all these years I look forward to Thursday's mail with the hometown Gazette in my mailbox. As I daydreamed of where home used to be Becca snapped her fingers causing me to look up.

Becca's voice brought me back to the here and now, "Hey, you in there Buck Rodgers, or lost somewhere in space?"

I hadn't heard a reference to Buck Rodgers since I was a kid, "Yup, I'm here, just daydreaming."

"If your day isn't planned why don't you come with me, you can meet my folks and brothers. Kyle might even let you milk a few cows just to get you back in the swing of things, it's kinda like riding a bike, you never really forget how. They're putting up first crop hay, you could help me unload wagons, they hire local kids to stack in the mow so we won't have to do that. Whada ya say?"

I was as surprised by my answer as she was, "You know that sounds like fun, I have some older clothes that won't matter if they get dirty, and my Welly's are in the back room somewhere, I think next to my hunting gear. I can follow you."

Her face beamed smiling at me, "You can ride with me, there's an extra bedroom where you can stay overnight, grab some clothes to change into and we'll go dancing tonight at the Starburst, they always have a good band on Saturday night."

I was pleasantly surprised when she pulled up at the apartment steps in a late model Toyota Tacoma four door pickup, my kind of girl. With Jenny gone I hadn't been calling Ellis any longer, in fact he retired with a handsome severance package after serving Jenny's family for over thirty years. I was back to driving my trusty F-150 and was happy to see her in a pickup as well. Yes, I had enough money to buy any new vehicle I wanted, I simply didn't want or need another vehicle, maybe it was the farm kid in me. I'm not sure why I didn't buy a fancier vehicle, the way I viewed the situation, if it got me from point A to point B trouble free and halfway comfortable I was fine.

While we drove she asked about how the name Dirk came to be, I explained the evolutionary changes from grade school through college, she laughed and said it wasn't offensive or nerdy, just very different, I remember thinking, "Yeah, tell me about it." I decided it wouldn't be out of line to ask where she worked.

"Oh, I run the chiropractic clinic three blocks from the coffee shop, I was so happy when you opened, I was sick of five dollar a cup coffee served by rude gaping rectums, not to mention no donuts. The first time I asked for a large black coffee to go at the other place the guy looked at me like a cow at a new gate, he had no idea what I was talking about. When the girl next to him said it was simply a cup of coffee he muttered 'how boring', I was ready to kick his ass, except I was in a skirt."

I probably should have kept my mouth shut but I didn't want to miss an opportunity to let her know I was becoming more and more interested in her.

"Yes, I've noticed your skirts. I like them, they look good on you and show off a lot of leg. I like that they aren't skintight like some women wear, are they called a pencil skirt?"

She smiled, "Yes, pencil skirt, I have full skirts as well, the kind that flow, I normally wear the pencil skirts because it's harder to look under them. We have one younger doctor who is sort of a perv, the pencil skirts take care of the problem. Not sure how long he'll last, Doctor Ormund is getting tired of his antics."

She looked out the driver side window then turned back to me." I was sort a hoping you might like what's in those skirts Derek."

Shit, trapped in a truck going sixty miles an hour and my cock wants to get hard. I chastised myself, quick, think of anything but how wonderful it would be to lay in that natural sex saddle rocking back and forth in and out of what I imagined was a delicious cock hugging pussy. I had to say something so I blurted.

"I do, I do like what's in those skirts. Oh my god, I sound like a pervert, I mean to say that I find you attractive. Geez, I want to crawl inside my shoe."

Her hand left the steering wheel and rested on mine, "Thank you, that's the sweetest compliment I've had since I moved to the city. I think I've heard every pickup line there is. I've had guys want to show me how big their johnson is, I've heard guys tell me how much they wanted to please me with his self-proclaimed huge dick. Hell, I had one who sat next to me and the first thing he said was, I want to eat your pussy."

I chuckled, "So how'd that one go?"

She grinned, "Let's say he went home disappointed, not that I don't like a little tongue action, but not like that. Say, what was the deal with you and the older lady, it was obvious you cared for each other."

By the time I'd finished the story from how we met, our nearly year-long vacation together, opening the coffee shop/bakery, to the time of her sudden demise we were pulling into the long farm drive, in ways it was as if I were home again. The cows were meandering away from the feed bunker headed to the pasture, one of her brothers was by the machine shed greasing the baler and making sure there was extra twine, the other was coming in from spreading manure. I thought that milking a herd of one hundred and fifty they'd have a slurry pit, she told me the boys still preferred spreading it daily.

As we got out of the truck the backdoor to the house opened and I immediately knew why Becca was the size she was, her mother had to be six one and broad shouldered just like Becca, her dad was an easy three inches taller and built like a brick shit house. Her brothers weren't exactly small people either, both were over six feet and built like their father. She leaned into me and whispered.

"Sverige." (In English it sounds like SvahdYa) I must have looked confused, "Sweden, my great grandparents came through Ellis Island, we all look like this, my mom came over as dad's bride in the late sixties."

When you grow up in the country there's one thing you learn early in life, nobody likes a soft squishy handshake, it should be firm and sturdy. When her dad reached forth his hand I knew I would be making a first impression, not with how I looked or spoke, but how I shook his hand. Matching his grip was the most important move of the day, he smiled, welcomed me, and hugged Becca. As the brothers greeted me it was clear, I had been accepted. Her mother gave me a hug and asked if I wanted anything to eat, it was only ten thirty in the morning, no way was I hungry yet. Her mom smiled at Becca and spoke.

"Låt inte den här komma undan." (Don't let this one get away.")

Smiling at me Becca said softly, "I'll tell you later."

Calvin was the younger of the brothers and as we shook hands he asked if I still knew how to drive a tractor, I assured him I could.

He slapped me on the back, "Good, you can rake that twenty acres along the road where you came in, sun should have dried it enough by now."

I looked at Becca, she smiled, leaned in and told me, "Your doing well, they like you, most of the guys I've brought home are high tailing it by now, good luck raking. I'll bring some lemonade out in about an hour. I'm gonna help mom in the kitchen."

Jumping on the M seemed as natural as anything, it was as if I'd never left the farm, true to her word she brought out some lemonade and fresh cookies an hour after I'd begun. I was still raking when she returned with sandwiches around one, as we ate in the shade of the rear wheel she was looking at me, studying my face.

"Derek, did you mean what you said earlier, you know, that you like looking at me?" I nodded as she continued. "I've been trying to get your attention since Jenny died but I didn't seem to be making much progress, you took me by surprise when you started waiting on me personally. So, I need to ask, don't be offended, am I just a piece of ass, somebody to lay because you aren't getting any?"

I took her hand in mine, "Becca, I get all I want from one lady, she's older and disease free, we don't have a relationship per se. She was Jenny's housekeeper for years and Jenny made her promise to meet my needs until as she put it, I found a girl to settle down with and have babies. Jen wasn't able to conceive so she made me promise I would have at least three kids, that I had to make sure whoever I married wanted lots of babies."

Her eyes were big as half dollars as she blinked rapidly, I continued, "To answer your question, no, I'm not looking for an easy piece of tail. Jenny pointed you out before she died, it simply took me awhile to realize how pretty you are and that I fancy you, as they say in England. Jenny told me that you would be a true and loyal wife, she somehow knew it by watching you."

Becca pushed back slightly, "You know, I used to watch her watching me and wonder what she was doing, now I know. Wow, I never dreamed inviting you to do chores would be so revealing. I'd better let you get to it, you're almost done and Kyle will be pulling in with the baler any minute now. When you're done find me, we'll unload the racks together, with the kicker they get jumbled up sometimes, it'll be nice to have another set of hands."

As she began to rise I took hold of her wrist pulling back to my side, "I'm intrigued Becca, how is it your folks and brothers all have blonde or light brown hair and yours is as red a fire hydrant."

She was laughing, leaned back and with a mischievous grin told me her version of the story. "I think the milk hauler had red hair years ago, I always tease mother about her possibly having a shag with the hauler when daddy was in the fields, it never happened but it gets her goat. Truth is, one of my great grandparent's spouse was as Irish red headed as one can imagine, that gene has manifested in two girls, Mimi my cousin and me."

"That's another thing, why do all of you kids have these ultra-American names?"

She chuckled, "Because mama and daddy wanted us to be Americans first and Swedes second, we all speak Swedish at home, but we have run of the mill American names."

I was surprised and glad I'd asked, "Since we're being honest Becca, am I being too forward to ask for a kiss?"

With her hand behind my neck pulling me to her lips she whispered, "My God, I thought you'd never ask."

I was making the last two windrows when Kyle showed up, I waved at him and headed back to the farm. I passed Calvin going the opposite of my direction with two empty hay wagons, I found Becca on the porch with her mom. About twenty minutes later Calvin was coming in the yard, he dropped the wagon and headed back to the field, we pulled the wagon in place with the M and unloaded. That scenario continued throughout the afternoon minus sitting on the porch between loads, they just kept coming. I was happy to see both brothers pulling back into the yard around four thirty.