Jennifer was nearly eight months pregnant. In the early stages she had felt fat and frumpy, not that she was any bigger than what was usual for that stage or pregnancy. She felt that way because people were unable to determine whether she was actually pregnant, the evidence was not yet pronounced enough. She cringed at the thought of strangers viewing her as a thirty something woman who had abandoned diet and exercise to succumb to the thickening of the waist that inevitably came with the slow descent into middle age. As Jennifer was reasonably vain and had looked after herself, this made her rather depressed. However, now that she was obviously pregnant to the casual onlooker, she was full of energy and enjoyed people’s glances and comments. She was on an unexpected high.
But the thing that surprised Jennifer the most was that her sex drive had escalated dramatically, especially since it had been almost non-existent at the beginning of the pregnancy. Every morning after her husband left for work, she would look into the mirror at her over-ripe body. Her boobs had grown two cup sizes to a D-cup. They were huge and the nipples had grown dark brown and large – and they were hypersensitive. She would pull her boobs out over her bra and marvel at them. Then she would knead them and pull at the big dark rubbery nipples. They looked so good and firm, sitting atop her huge belly, that she would inevitably lift one leg onto a chair and masturbate herself to orgasm watching her swollen breasts bounce in the mirror as she came.
Unfortunately Jennifer’s husband Gordon was not interested in her new voluptuous figure. She would try everything to have him have sex with her when he came home from work. She would tell him that she was extremely horny, but that did not work. She tried suggestive clothing, and had bought sexy lingerie especially for pregnant women, but that did not work. She even tried the forthright approach, propping herself up on the sofa while her husband was watching the evening news, and began masturbating and moaning. One night she even got the vibrator out, but his reaction was: “Good to see you can still enjoy anything to do with sex with a body like that.” It was then that Jennifer gave up on trying to coax him into making love with her. She would have to do with the three or four times a day she could masturbate now that she was on maternity leave.
Not long after her having given up on Gordon, Jennifer’s mother phoned to say that she had sprained her ankle quite badly and asked if Jennifer could visit for a few days to help her out. As Jennifer was feeling fine, she had agreed. Her mother lived two hour’s drive south of the city, an easy and pleasant trip if you left the city out of peak hours. Jennifer embarked on the journey with plenty of fluid as it was a hot mid-summer’s day. At about an hour into the journey she needed to pee, and could not hold on any longer. So she entered the first quiet side road she could find. She quickly stopped the car, and made her way behind a bush to relieve herself.
She was wearing a lose-fitting cotton knit dress which was easy to hoist up, and she pulled her g-string to the side and peed a seemingly endless pee. She heard a rustling in the bushes but kept peeing, thinking it was probably one of the cows in the paddock just looking around out of curiousity. However, she could hear none of the pronounced breathing noises cows made, so she started to get a little worried. Probably a large bird, she thought. She wiped herself and pulled down her dress and made to go back to her car when she heard a voice say: “Are you okay? Do you need a hand?”
She looked around and she saw a tall and stocky man, in his forties, wearing a pair of overalls. “Was just checking the perimeter fencing when I heard something in the bushes and saw you step out. I have five children, so I know what can happen. The youngest is only two, the oldest is twelve,” he said, with a big grin. “I wish we could have more. But she insisted I get the op.”
“Oh ok. I am fine thanks. Just the call of nature. A bit more pronounced in my state,” Jennifer replied, feeling a little coy in front of the landholder whose property she had just peed on.
“It’s a hot day. Sure you don’t want a drink? You must be feeling it. You must be, what, nearly full term?” he said looking at her large belly inquisitively.
“Yes. Am just on eight months pregnant,” said Jennifer touching her mound. “I have plenty of water in the car thanks.”
“Sure you wouldn’t like to just have a cup of iced tea with me?” he ventured, looking like a man in the need of company other than cows. “It would be nice to have someone around. My wife and kids have been away for two days now. They’ve got tickets to see the tennis. It gets so quiet here without them.”
Jennifer felt kind of sorry for the man. He had an open kind face. He could be an axe-murderer for all she knew. But she was giving him the benefit of the doubt. “Okay then. It will make a change from water. I could probably do with a sugar hit. Am feeling a bit light headed.”
“Okay, great” said the farmer. “My tractor is not too far away. Just follow me down the road a bit.”
When Jennifer got in the car she thought, what the hell am I doing having a cup of tea with a complete stranger in the middle of nowhere? But she had said yes, so that was that. She followed him to a large homestead, and parked her car next to his tractor. “Here. Let me help you,” he said as she got out of the car. “You look positively glowing, positively the picture of health.”
Jennifer could feel herself blushing. She walked heavily to the door following the man through to a large kitchen that looked out onto a shady verandah and green hills speckled with fat cows. “Nice isn’t it?” he said. “We have 500 head of top line cattle. We also grow bush foods for the gourmet market. My wife’s idea. Very lucrative too. We do okay out of it. Have fed and clothed my five kids and kept the wife in luxury.”
“Yes. You have a lovely property here,” said Jennifer. “I live right near the centre of the city, so it is very busy and smelly. Glad to be here in the open space. I’m actually on my way to help my mother, who has sprained her ankle. She lives in Rivertown. Want her to get better so she can help me in my time of need,” Jennifer laughed.
“Yes. Good idea. You need another woman’s help. Us men can be hopeless with a new baby. Although by the time the third one came along I had a pretty good idea,” said the farmer. “By the way my name is Eric,” he said extending his big calloused hand.
“I’m Jennifer. Pleased to meet you.”
They sat and chatted amicably sipping big glasses of iced tea. Eric relayed how he delivered his fourth child, a boy called Eddie, in one of the homestead’s bedrooms. It had been too late to go to the hospital, which was a 30-minute drive away. “Phenomenal,” he said, shaking his head. “You women are real powerhouses. Just like my best cows!” he laughed. Jennifer liked his earthy sense of humour, and was feeling very relaxed.
“Hmm, I hope mine goes that fast,” she said, forgetting she was speaking to a stranger. “I do hope to make it to the hospital though. My husband Gordon would be in complete panic mode.”
