The Hired Hand

"Stupid frigging sheep," Scott stammered to himself as a limb slapped off the flank of a darting sheep and caught in right in the nose. If the sting to such a tender part of the face was not bad enough, the felling of liquid on his upper lip indicating it had given him a bloody nose was worse. Instinctively he wiped it with his hand and then started after the flock of sheep that had busted through the fence and scattered into the woods, muttering under his breath as he began after the ovine.

Scott was about to step over a fallen log when he heard the rythmatic thud...thud...thud...of his hired farmhand pounding fence posts deeply into the soil. In his haste of chasing after sheep, he had lost his bearings and had not realized the meandering path through the wood had taken him to the Davis Field; an isolated field located on the back portion of the farm. Through the woods, Scott could see a hand upon the wooden fence post, then the 12 pound sledge hammer coming down again and again upon the top of the post, driving it into the soil further with each hit. But as his hired hand finished with the post and stopped down to pick up another; Scott's jaw nearly dropped to his chest: his hired hand did not have a stitch of clothes on.

For the moment Scott resisted the urge to run out into the field and ask her what she was doing working in the buff, but instead chose to watch her for a minute. It certainly was a unique perspective because Scott had never seen a naked person performing any sort of work, and it was intriguing watching the muscles groups of the body contort and twist as she brought the sledge hammer up over her head and then swung it with all her might down upon the top of the post again and again.

Even from this distance he could see a bit of sweat developing as she worked, giving her well tanned skin a bit of sheen as the reports of her sledgehammer blows echoed across the valley. Of course her chest bobbled with each contact of steel upon wood too which Scott could not help but admire.

Deep inside he knew he should not have been watching her, but at 20 years old, Amy had a rather impressive body. Much of that came from hard work where more calories were burned than what were eaten for meals so her curves developed from muscle groups rather then diets or plastic surgery. But there was a girl next door look to her too from a bruise on her shin, another upon her thigh and scratch across her left cheek. Her heart shaped face, brunette locks, and blue eyes might have come from the genetics of her parents, but her work ethic certainly came from within and was impressive to a farmer almost as much as her form.

She had come to the farm in May answering an advertisement for a hired hand he had placed on a bulletin board at a local college. Hesitant at first; a lack of other prospective employees left him with no choice but to hire her, and yet she had exceeded his expectations in every way. Quiet but hardworking, smart but not all-knowing, and frugal but resourceful; Scott was going to be disappointed when she left in the fall. His only regret was that he could not pay her any more then he did.

In fact, Scott was nearly mesmerized by her and would have continued to watch her perform her farm duties naked if the sheep had not crashed through the woods and tore through the fields. Amy was distracted by the wayward sheep and Scott used the moment to his advantage. Rushing after them, he burst into the field himself as if he was trying to regroup the sheep himself.

Seeing her boss, Amy started towards her clothes, but she had removed them early in the day and now they were seven hundred feet of fence line away from her. Realizing it was a futile attempt to rush towards them and put them on, she simply bit her lower lip as her boss approached forgetting about the sheep that were no merrily grazing away on fresh, high protein grass.

"Nice day to get a tan", she said with a sheepish grin as Scott sized her up.

"I see, and without a tan line it's apparent that you do this often? It's just a good damn thing you're not working with barb wire Amy."

"Or in poison ivy," she countered. Scott chuckled and then continued to speak.

"I will say, I have seen all kinds of methods to put up a fence, but I have never seen it done in the nude." At that quip, Amy laughed herself, but it contained nervousness to it as she did so. "

"No and you probably never will. I probably should explain though you won't understand I'm sure. You see I took this job because I am a naturalist. I saw your ad and figured what a great way to spend the summer. I could help take care of the sheep and on days like this when I am out in the back forty; I could strip down and do my work undressed. What other job could I get that would allow me to do that? It's just when you said you were heading into Bangor for more fencing supplies I figured I would be safe for the day. I'm sorry Scott; I should be in my clothes I know."

"Well I started to head to Bangor, but then I saw the Hampshires had broken through the fence so I chased after them. It took awhile but they finally ran through the woods all the way up to here. That's when I saw you..."

"Working naked," she said finishing his sentence for him? "I know it's weird, but I do get my work done, I mean look I got seven hundred feet of fence up already today so it's not like it hinders me, Hell it might even invigorate me and I get more done, I don't know?"

"You're a good worker Amy, I know that..."

"But you got to fire me because it's not safe to have me out here working without any clothes on. I understand. Because of insurance reasons you just have too."

"I don't want you getting hurt Amy, but I don't run my farm based on insurance bureaucracy either. You are right, you do get your work done and it's not like I could find a replacement for you anyway, not halfway through the summer. You'll have to be careful and not get hurt, but I guess I don't really care."

"Well in a way I am glad you found out. It's not like I wanted to keep this from you, but what was I supposed to say on my job application, "oh by the way, I am a nudist too." The better farmers would refuse to hire you, and the ones that did would be the perverts that would watch you all the time just to get their jollies."

"Well I'm not the latter Amy. You're a good worker and seem comfortable working undressed, and that is the only reason I am looking the other way on this."

"I know that Scott and I respect you for it. It's not what you think anyway. Working all day without clothes is not a sexual thing at all, it's just liberating. Haven't you ever just wanted to take off all your clothes and be naked for a day?"

Scott grinned at the question but finally had to shake his head no.

"Not really? But just be careful Amy. I might be open-minded but this is a small town which surely isn't. I would hate the word to get out and have you being the local spectacle. "

After a week, Scott was not so sure approaching Amy in that fateful field had been the right thing to do. She had ignored his suggestion of staying low key in her nudity, and now that her secret had been revealed, it was more likely to see her out of her clothes then in them. But Scott had not been entirely truthful either because he found himself watching her while she was busy working. Part of that came from the sheer number of tasks she performed while being disrobed; from drenching the sheep, to mending fences to driving the tractor, she did so nude.

Amy was similarly dressed the day the two of them were clearing land on the Hamlin place. It was located on the western part of the farm and had been overgrown with a small apple orchard that Scott had never been able to bring himself to cut. But the old apple trees were shading the small hay barn his Great Grandfather had built there, and the trees were causing the barn to remain wet after rain storms and it was starting to decay.

Amy had just stepped back from tossing a branch onto a growing brush pile as Scott stepped up to one of the apple trees with his chainsaw. The notch was made without incident, but as he made the back cut, and the tree began to fall, the rotted apple tree broke off halfway up. With his eyes watching where the tree was falling, Scott could not see the top of the tree falling form above. Amy let out a yell but the tree had already struck Scott squarely on the shoulder as it reached his ears. Collapsing into a pile of branches, Amy rushed forward to shut off the still running chainsaw and pull the six inch log off her employer.

"Scott are you alright," she asked ignoring the rather harsh branches that brushed against her bare feet and shins? "Do you want me to call an ambulance?"

"No, but I think my shoulder is messed up pretty good."

Amy let her boss lean on her as she led him into the barn and onto a few bales of hay that had not been given to the sheep over the previous winter. Scott reluctantly sat down upon one, the grimace on his face revealing the incredible amount of pain that he was experiencing.

"God it's a wonder you're not dead. Here, pull off your shirt and I'll take a look at it."

Scott really just wanted to be left alone to shake off the collision of wood and flesh, but he knew Amy was not about to let that happen. He was glad Amy had witnessed the accident though and was there to help as her fingers gripped his black T-shirt and pulled it over his head.

"Let me guess, it hurts right here," she said as she began to push on a portion of his shoulder.

"Yeah a little."

"A little Scott? The damn thing is all swollen. If you are not going to the hospital then you're going to have to at least see a message therapist?"

"That will be the day."

"Why because you think it's gay?"

"I'm a ninth generational Maine farmer Amy; I think people would talk if I went to a message therapist."

"Yeah and what would they say about how we look right now?"

"You mean a twenty year old nudist rubbing my shoulder? Yeah it doesn't look very good does it?"

"No, but that is the difference between nudists and everyone else. We don't care what other people think about how we look. That is why it is so liberating for us. No restrictions...nothing hidden from view."

"Well I figure I can tell when you're stealing from me anyway," Scott joked as Amy continued to rub his sore shoulder. "But I'm still not going to see a massage therapist. Ever since that Brokeback Mountain movie came out people think all sheep farmers are gay."

"Like you're not?"

"Amy," he said bolting to his feet from the indignation of her words even if his shoulder did cause him incredible pain. For a moment he was not sure if Amy was being an antagonist or truly being serious. Fearing for his pride he assumed the latter.

"What? You never leave the farm, you never talk about the women in your past and not once have I seen you stare at me even though I parade around here naked most of the time. Hey it makes me wonder Scott."

"I've admired you Amy, lot's of times," Scott started to say, his voice having an edge of defensiveness to it as he continued, "but you're twenty years old: I'm thirty five and I'm your employer to boot, what am I supposed to do, stare at you just to prove I'm not gay?"

"It would help. Most guys stare at naked women Scott, and as a nudist, I kind of expect it. But other then a few light hearted jokes about being naked, you have not once asked me about being a nudist; that's kind of odd."

"You're a good worker Amy, I didn't want it to seem like I was upset by it or anything and risk losing you."

"Good worker, that's all you ever say, but what about being pretty, or looking good out of my clothes? It would be nice to hear a few of those comments too once and awhile you know?"

"Amy you're very pretty. You don't know how many times I have wanted to take a picture of you working. Like watching you drive fence posts with the sun coming up behind you, or driving the tractor pulling the flail chopper with the wind blowing through your hair, or just ordinary everyday tasks on the farm that you turn into art. You're beautiful..."

"Does it turn you on?"

"Well it's been 5 years since I got divorced, so yeah it turns me on, but what am I supposed to do? I am thirty five years old you know Amy."

"So that makes us both adults right?"

Scott just locked eyes with Amy's for the moment, the realization of what she was saying sinking in as he did so. Amy's words were so matter-of-fact that it left Scott speechless and nowhere else to take the conversation. But it was her smile that truly spoke volumes about how she felt. With a grin a magical moment began as chemistry, human intuition and passion collided and there was no more need for words.

Standing within a few feet of Scott, and with an open invitation to stare, Scott did just that, letting his gaze take all of her nude form in as it scanned her from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. He knew she was young and attractive when he had first hired her, but looking at her now he saw her in a whole new light. It helped that she had her brunette hair pulled back from her face and tucked into an elastic band to form her ever present pony tail. A little lower, her big blue eyes glinted with the tell-tale sin of lust as her naturally colored lips formed a sassy little smile. In fact Amy's body was simple, unadorned beauty without the application of makeup, lipstick or finger and toenail polish. The latter Scott hardly noticed because while his gaze had dropped to her feet, it quickly rose to her chest, which was not as full as some ladies, but certainly large enough with red centers tipped by perked nipples. Scott had to grin equally lustful at seeing them before settling his gaze on her trim waist with well rounded hips, no doubt a result of hard work and her young age. But it was the apex of her legs that garnered Scott's full attention with the tip of her woman's cleft just visible where her shapely thighs joined her two well-formed legs. Almost completely void of hair, only a thin strip of hair remained and Amy answered his question before he even had a chance to speak.

"What's the sense of being a nudist if you're going to keep it from view behind a patch of hair?"

"True".

"Now it's my turn though. You've seen me naked for a week now but so far I've only got to see you with your shirt off. It's impressive, but not what I really want to see?" With that, Amy moved forward to grip the waist band of his denim jeans. With a sense of urgency, she slipped her hands into both the waistband of his jeans and underwear and pulled them down in one fell swoop in order to make the most of her actions. They had no sooner slipped onto his thighs when Amy noticed Scott's obvious approval of her nudity, as his cock was already rigid, pulsating slightly and curled to the upper right.

It was no coincidence that Amy sank to her knees in front of him as she pulled his boots, socks and jeans the rest of the way off and looked at Scott's naked body as intently as he had hers. She could not help but flash a refined smile as she alternated glances between Scott's eyes, and his genitals now mere inches from her face. She enjoyed what she saw, for Scott was a little bigger then average perhaps, but it was hard to tell with his uncircumcised cock. It was not hard to figure out that he had been born at the farm, just as his father, grandfather and great-grandfather before him, and while Amy had never been with an uncircumcised man before, she had no reservations about it as she gripped the base of her cock and quickly steered it towards her mouth.

Scott only moaned a low, slow moan as her lips wettened his shaft; a pleasure he had not felt in many years. Spurned by his obvious bliss, Amy settled onto her knees to give him the best blowjob she could muster. Nothing generated that more then looking up at him as they locked eyes once again, the glint and brightness indicating that she was enjoying what she was doing as much as he was at receiving it. That pleasure was deep within her even as she kneeled on rough hewn boards teeming with potential splinters and scattered hay chaff laden with dust.

She tried to form her mouth into the perfect O as she gave him oral sex. She had done it enough times to know that pulling her teeth back ensured they would not graze him and even corkscrewed her mouth up and down as she struggled to deep throat him as far as she could. With his pubic hairs tickling her upper lip as she descended to depths she had never reached before, Amy could feel his bulging veins slide over her rough tongue. For this, little slurping sounds escaped her lips as Scott continued his own low moans. His only reaction was the splay his legs as far as his could and instinctively thrust his pelvic forward in time to her head movements.

"Oh Amy," he moaned finally as the unbelievable feeling of contentment and lust overwhelmed him. Just feeling the wetness of her lips on his rock hard shaft was invigorating, saying nothing about the sight of her nude body poised such as it was. With her chest bobbing with each thrust, and her pony tail wagging from her vigorous work, the young vixen was giving Scott an enlivening view.

For Amy the taste of Scott was what was more thrilling than that of seeing him undressed. It had only been a few months since she had given her last blowjob, but she had forgotten how pungent the taste could be. The touch of sweat gave her taste buds a salty sensation; while a tiny amount of pre-come gave her a mere taste of what was literally to come. Hardly deterred, the taste spurned her on and forced her to take in lungfuls of air by her nose,. While she inhaled the sharp, musky smell of Scott's genitals, her nostrils flared from what many women considered a demeaning act. Amy simply reveled in the pleasure of it, and would have continued until her mouth had been filled with his thick pent up seed, but Scott pulled her head of his shaft before she could finish.

For a moment Amy thought he was being a gentleman by not coming in her mouth, but when he stood up, Amy suspected he was up for something else. That became apparent as he gripped her hands and gently laid her on the hay bales. Amy melted at the ease of which he hefted her up, and the gentleness at which he laid her down, so strong was his buff frame. The hay was certainly scratchy, but years of nudist life had hardened Amy to such trivial discomforts on her skin.

"This is what you really want isn't it," he asked, now proving beyond all doubt that he was indeed a gentlemen?

"Oh God yes," she breathed as he loomed over her. Gone was the sensation of him being her employer, and all concerns about the difference in their ages were eroded as he placed his cock up to the folds of her nearly shaven sex, and began to push. Instantly she parted, slickened by her own feelings of euphoria, and slickened with her own saliva, Scott's shaft slipped inside of her with smoothness and amazing speed. Without a mattress beneath her back, she jumped when he bottomed out and drove her back into the rather dense hay bale. Her splayed legs shuddered as well, but when he tipped his head and moved in for the kiss, Amy could no longer see her legs or the tin roof of the barn and instead all she saw was Scott's face, smiling as he kissed her.

Up until that moment Amy had not realized that had not kissed yet. The last few moments had been so passionate, so natural that kissing had just not come into any sort of foreplay. Amy was hardly upset by this; in fact as Scott's soft lips brushed against hers then opened and their tongues began to lash, the change in the usual foray was a welcome variation. However, Amy was not content to simply be kissed, for she kissed back, and whenever Scott's exploratory tongue retreated from her mouth, Amy reciprocated with her own exploring tongue, slipping it in deep to ensure that her own passion proved to be on par with that of her new lover.