Short summary of the story: A beautiful young woman learns opposites
can
attract.
Tags: Heterosexual love; Reluctance;
Category: Erotic Couplings
My sincere thanks to Mystress Syren for editing and collaborating on this story.
Sweet Prairie Grass - Part I
The Kansas weather in 1960 was unusual. The winter months had a prodigious snowfall. By spring, the moisture kept coming. Hills and valleys in this semi-arid region came to life. With these rains came the farmers' hopes it would mean bumper crops of wheat.
An additional effect of this weather was the growth of the prairie grasses. The spread of green was like nothing the ranchers and farmers had witnessed in their lifetimes. The untillable hills and draws of the pastures had grown lush with grass. By June it was waist high, and in some places even taller. It was rich with life-giving nutrients that in past times enabled millions of buffalo to flourish across these same plains. Now grazing upon it would produce sleek, fat, cattle.
Best of all was saving the hay for future use. Once the wheat harvest was over, farmers rushed to reap the unexpected bounty of sweet prairie grasses.
Sabine Beck's father Erik, and his hired man Jim Bodine, had cut many acres of grass. It had been tedded and then raked into windrows where the hay could lay curing in the sun. When it was dry enough, the hay would be baled. Then Erik would store it in the barn's loft. That winter the hay would augment the feed for the beef cattle, their two milk cows, and his quarter horse 'Cutter.'
It had been some years since the barn loft at the Beck farm had been completely filled. By July, in one corner, bales of wheat straw from that summer's harvest were stacked to the rafters. It would be used as bedding for the animals. In the remainder of the loft were piles of dusty old straw and hay from broken bales. Some of it had been stored for years. Where the rain and snow blew into the open barn doors and cracks between the boards, the fodder was wetted, causing some of it to mildew and rot.
Erik decided that before the new bales of prairie grass were brought to the barn, all the old decomposed hay should be removed. He wanted his daughters Sabine and Signe, and his son Paul, to all help with that chore. Normally the girls were not much engaged in strenuous farmwork, but his son eagerly pitched in helping his dad in any way he could.
Although willing helpers, Erik wasn't sure of his children's stamina. However, his adopted daughter Sabine, age 19, was strong enough to use a pitchfork, and mature enough to stick with the job. With 'Jim-Bo,' their nickname for the hired man, the two of them could clean out the debris to be burnt, or used as mulch for the garden. Then when Signe and Paul joined in to help them, what was remaining could be swept out.
But first there was the chore of clearing the barn loft.
That morning after breakfast, Sabine walked from the farmhouse to meet Jim-Bo. He'd been told to wait for her near the barn. His old pickup truck was parked beside it, and he was sitting on the tailgate, rolling a cigarette.
Watching her hips swaying as Sabine approached, he shook his head, whispering to himself, "
My god...!"
Each time he saw her, he was struck anew by her strange compelling beauty. It was a volatile conjuring from the genetic mixing of Teutonic genes with the multiplicity of North African blood. Her look and the way her body moved stirred the beast in a man, making him think of only one thing.
She was wearing an old pair of rusty-red cowboy boots, and dressed in blue jeans and a faded plaid blouse with the sleeves rolled up. The blouse was tucked into her pants, accentuating the teen's hourglass figure. Jim-Bo also noticed that someone had tailored her jeans. Darts had been sewn in, taking up the extra material so they'd fit closely around her tiny waist.
When she stopped in front of him, he grinned. "Well..., if it ain't Miss Beck, finally out of bed..., will ya be up for the whole day now?"
At his feet lying in the dirt was a litter of cigarette butts. Evidently, he'd been waiting for her quite a while. Still, his condescending remark and tone of voice immediately put her off.
"Are
you
ready to get started?" she asked coolly. However, Sabine betrayed her nervousness by defensively crossing her arms over her bosom.
"Oh yeah, I'm always ready to go. Whatcha got in mind?" he said, his eyebrow arching.
The worn Zippo in his hand clicked open, firing the flame in one motion. Lighting the cigarette, he looked her up and down while squinting through the wafting smoke. He paused, staring at her gorgeous pale-colored eyes--made even more striking by their contrast with her olive complexion. They were difficult eyes to describe. Depending on the light, or her mood, the color could be blue or green or even gray. None of those adjectives came close to conveying their striking and alluring beauty.
Naturally Jim-Bo's gaze also passed over her bosom. The soft Madras cloth of the blouse fit her snugly and stretched taut across her breasts. He noticed the first two buttons were undone, and saw another threatening to pull free.
Since dressing that morning, those buttons kept escaping their hold. The blouse was old and something Sabine had outgrown, but it had always been a favorite of hers. Though she
knew
it was too tight, she still liked wearing it since it was so nice and soft. His gaze made her fingers fidget unconsciously over the placket. Discovering the blouse gaping open, she blushed at his lewd stare and re-buttoned them.
When Erik asked her to help with cleaning the barn, she'd thought it would just be with Signe and Paul. But when she found out Jim-Bo would be there too, she'd dreaded the thought. Her stepfather completely misunderstood her reluctance; he thought she just didn't like working outdoors and having to get dirty and sweaty. That was true to a degree..., but the real reason was far more complicated to explain, even to herself.
It was, in part, because Jim Bodine and her father had been life-long friends. She'd seen lots of photos of them together when they were growing up. A favorite of hers was taken during the harvest of 1942 when they were young men. They had their shirts off, grinning and puffing out their chests. With their black hair and similar physiques, they could have been mistaken for brothers. She always thought Jim was equally well-built and at the time almost as good-looking as Erik had been. And, in Sabine's opinion, her stepfather Erik was the most handsome man she'd ever known.
Now in his mid-thirties, Jim-Bo's chain-smoking, boozing, and hard living showed on his face. Still, some women found his craggy good looks very appealing. From the gossip she'd heard, he was quite the womanizer. Sabine sensed a dangerous attraction in him too--a feeling that made her both aroused and uncomfortably wary in his presence.
At least according to her stepfather, it was the war that changed Jim. The fighting in Europe brought out a mean streak in him that he didn't have before. Then after de-mobilization, like for many veterans, it was difficult for him readjusting to civilian life. He started drinking far too much.
Since coming home in '45, Jim-Bo had a hard time keeping a job for very long. Two of his main problems were a quick temper coupled and his cocky attitude. Jim loved fist-fighting and goading other men to the point where they'd take a swing at him. Anyone who went up against him usually got the worst of it.
According to the rumors in their small town, his ex-wife Alma wouldn't put up with Jim's infidelities. But perhaps it was as much about his drinking and unpredictable, volatile, and sometimes abusive behavior. Being Catholics, the fact their marriage broke up was a huge shock in the community. Before that, Sabine had never even heard of anyone of her religion who'd divorced.
When Alma finally left him, Jim-Bo came around asking for a job and started working intermittently for Sabine's stepdad. During those times he lived in the old bunkhouse at the "south place" and occasionally took meals with the Becks. He would work steadily for a while, but often after getting paid, just took off. Sometimes months passed before he turned up again, wanting to be rehired. Although angry when Jim-Bo would disappear without a word, on his return Erik always forgave him. However, these episodes of his unreliability and Jim's often boisterous behavior put a pall on the household.
Her mother Gisela was a war-bride, who'd grown up in
Nazi
Germany. She was still a teen and mother of an illegitimate child, when she married Erik. At the time, he was a young soldier in the American constabulary force policing the Baden region. Although she tried to repress her memories of the war, Gisela's soul was forever scarred. In unguarded moments the hurt still registered in her dark blue eyes. She hated loud and obnoxious men; couldn't stand their voices and coarseness. As a result, Gisela strongly disliked their hired man because of his
'ungeschlact'
manner.
However, Erik would offer up excuses, saying you had to admire guys like Jim; he said it took a lot of guts parachuting into Normandy. During that fighting Jim had been wounded and decorated for his bravery. Her stepfather thought many of Jim's problems were caused by his old wounds and his suffering from frequent and painful migraines. Still, Sabine wished Erik wasn't so kind-hearted when it came to his friend.
All the time she'd known Jim-Bo while growing up, the man was always needling her, teasing, or flirting in some cruel way. He liked pinching her bottom to see if "
she finally had some meat on her bones."
But Erik never seemed to notice him saying such suggestive things, or acting fresh around his wife and daughters.
Sabine remembered one hot day the previous summer in particular. Along with her mother and Signe, they were in the backyard of the farmhouse hanging out the wash. The wind was up and the clothing they were pinning to the wires was snapping, and threatening to go flying into the tree row. Because of the stifling heat, Gisela and the girls had all been barefoot and were wearing nothing under their house dresses. In the bright sunlight, the blush of their nipples and shadowed pubes were evident through the thin cotton of their frocks.
As they hung the clothes on the line, the wind was whipping around their legs molding their dresses against their bottoms, the skirts billowing up above their waists. With the gusts buffeting and jostling their bodies, it seemed fun staggering against it. They'd been giggling at what it was doing, and her mother joked; "
Die Wind-Teufelchen spielen uns einen Streich!"
Moments later, Jim-Bo came sauntering around back to where they were working. With the wind continuously roaring through the trees, they hadn't heard him drive into the farmyard. It was a total surprise to see him, as it had been nearly a year since he'd disappeared. They'd all thought Jim-Bo had left for good that time.
"Now there's a pretty sight!" came his deep booming voice, startling the three of them. Although it was the middle of the morning, Sabine thought Jim-Bo had already started drinking.
"Was ist denn los, Herr Bodine?" Gisela asked.
"Oh,
nussing
," he'd mocked, while staring at their breasts and sun-drench silhouettes. "I'm
chust
glad to see you pretty Beck girls! Did you miss me?"
"Mein hustband vill be back soon, Herr Bodine," she said, nervously, her accent unconsciously slipping out heavier.
Ignoring her ploy, he'd grinned, "During the war, I met lots of pretty girls in England...in France...and in
Churmany
!"
