Blueberry Picing

My wife and I live on a small farm which is somewhat secluded from our neighbors. We have a few animals and a good-sized garden. One of my wife's favorite crops is the blueberries from the 10 bushes we have down by the spring.

This year, the first picking gave us gallons of blueberries for freezing and canning. The bushes were just loaded and as we had more than enough berries already, we invited our friends George and Linda to pick berries on Saturday. My wife suggested we invite Bette, her art teacher as well, so she got a call as well.

Saturday's weather forecast was for rain with intermittent thunderstorms. When Bette called to see if we were still going to pick berries, my wife told her that we needed to harvest the berries, or we'd lose the second picking.

George and Linda showed up at 8 as they knew we were picking, rain or shine. Looking up at the heavy gray clouds, I commented that it looked like it was going to be a wet day. George advised us that we empty our pockets of anything that shouldn't get soaked.

My wife led the way down the path to the blueberry patch and we started picking berries. It wasn't ten minutes, and distant thunder rolled. The wind gusted and it carried drops of rain into our faces. After that introduction, the skies opened, and it began to pour.

I was standing by the first bush picking berries off the higher branches and almost enjoying the warm rain. The individual berries were rolled off their stem and the clusters were rolled into the palm of my hand. Each handful was then dropped into my bucket.

The sky lit up with a flash of distant lighting. The heavy clouds released their warm rain by the bucketful. Then the thunder rumbled across the dripping landscape causing three sets of eyes to look up.

The rain soaked through our clothes as we busily collected ripe blueberries. My shirt was plastered to my shoulders and back as I bent to harvest the round blue balls. My jeans clung to my legs as a knelt to reach the low hanging berries.

Looking up I saw my wife with her blouse clinging to her breasts like a second skin. It was obvious to me that she had chosen to dispense with her bra. Linda's tee-shirt was doing a similar reveal with her prominent nipples.

The raindrops seemed to get bigger and heavier as the clouds churned their way over us. Puddles appeared on the group and the soil started to turn to mud. Water dripped from every leaf and off our hats and bodies.

After picking for nearly an hour, we had cleaned 5 bushes, and had emptied our picking buckets into the cooler twice which nearly filled it. George carried the cooler back to the garage and got another cooler. As he prepared to return to the berry patch, Bette pulled up and joined him for the short walk back.

On his way back he slipped and tumbled in the mud, knocking Bette down at the same time. George got up and held a hand up to Bette who laughed at her soaking and then rose from the muddy puddle. She was a muddy mess with her half-open blouse dripping brown drops.

Bette buttoned up her blouse and started picking blueberries. For the next 45 minutes the downpour continued and the five of us picked the last five bushes clean. Each of us had fallen at least once so we were all a mucky mess.

Carrying the filled second cooler and the picking buckets we slogged our way back to the garage.

I said to the crew, "We needed to prevent water damage to our floor, in other words you're welcome to come in, but you need to leave your soaked clothes in the garage."

While I was unbuttoning the buttons on my shirt, my wife said, "If you need to, just step outside and use the soap that is on the garage sink."

"Stepping outside is as good as a shower right now," I replied as I peeled my soggy shirt off.

I removed my shoes and socks while the others looked at me. Linda didn't disappoint me as she had a comment for the moment.

"Bet that you're commando," she said with a smile.

Unzipping my pants, I replied, "Good guess."

With difficulty, I pulled my soaking wet jeans off. I tossed them towards the door leader into the house and walked over to the sink for the bar of soap. I could feel their eyes on me, and it felt as great as the humid air washing over my bare skin.

I went outside into the rain and started soaping up. I started at my wrists and worked up my arms, then my chest and what I can reach on my back. Then I lathered up my legs and finally gave attention to my cock and balls. The rain was rinsing some of the soap off while I washed.

I saw that the others had shed their clothes and joined me in the rain. The group was just watching me as I lathered up. I surprised myself with my washing my cock and balls with their eyes on me.

I tossed the bar of soap to my wife and asked for the garden hose with the spray wand. Linda pickup up the wand and turned the water on. She adjusted the wand to the mist setting and washed me down. That gave me both hands to rinse the lather off and be a bit of an exhibitionist by spending more time making sure that my cock was clean.

My wife had finished with the soap and gave it to Bette. While Linda rinsed off my wife, Bette lathered up her body.

"Not what I expected to happen when I woke up this morning," Bette commented while rubbing her breasts with the bar of soap.

Lifting her breasts to rinse, my wife added, "No shyness in this group."

Linda laughed and handed the wand to my wife who started rinsing Bette off. George was given the soap, and he began washing up.

George asked me, "have you taken your daily photo?"

"No," I replied. "Any objections to a group shot?

"No."

"Why not."

"Sure"

I grabbed a towel and quickly toweled off. Then I went in the house and got my camera and tripod. I set up the tripod and camera in the doorway of the garage. I set the remote trigger up and took a good look at the background to make sure we'd get a decent shot.

While I had been getting the camera ready, George had finished, and my wife was rinsing off Linda. My wife turned off the hose and put the wand down, and George returned the soap to the garage sink.

The group lined up in the rain George, Linda, Bette, and my wife, while I focused the camera and checked the aperture and speed. Then I walked out into the rain and joined them.

Reminding everyone to smile I triggered the camera. I took a couple more and then as I took the last one, the sky lit up behind us with lightning, and we all jumped a little in surprise.

As one, we dashed back into the garage. Each grabbed a pool towel and dried off. My wife and Linda started the laundry, and I fired up the computer to process our photos. It didn't take long for the photos of our group to be exiting my photo printer.

Linda and my wife had a towel wrapped around them, Bette had a towel around her waist, as did George, and I was still naked. They gathered around as I shared the photos. All the photos showed us smiling in the falling rain. Water was captured dripping from our cocks and breasts. The shot that was spectacular was the one with a bolt of lightning illuminating the dark, heavy clouds. Everyone had to have a copy of that photo.

My wife groaned as she sat down. She complained that her back was hurting from her tumble early in the blueberry patch. I suggested she stretch out on the floor and let me massage her back.

She agreed and I tossed a flannel blanket on the rug, and she laid down on her stomach. I lifted the towel off her and kneeling by her side began rubbing her shoulders. I worked my way down her back with long strokes of my hands. I shifted positing so that was kneeling over her legs just below her beautiful ass. I could run my hands from the top of her shoulders to her butt.

I massaged her back as she moaned in pleasure. When I leaned forward to reach her shoulders, my cock would drag up her ass. She was enjoying the touch of my hands as I brushed the sides of her breasts and rubbed her butt while never neglecting the sore back.

My cock swelled and stuck out from my body as it steady grew toward becoming a full-fledged hard-on. I realized that we had an audience when Linda said that she wanted a massage as well. George said that could be arranged when they got home.

The washer finished about then and Linda and Bette transferred the laundry into the dryer. I moved from the floor to standing. My cock was twitching as I had no control on it as it grew and pointed toward the ceiling. Linda and Bette both were gazing at me as if I was something to commit to memory and then they both excused themselves with the comment that they needed to do something themselves. George lost his towel when he stood and revealed a rigid erection of his own.

Each picked out their clothes and left their towels by the washer. We all walked to the garage in the nude, Linda with a hand on George's cock and my wife's hand on mine. They raced to their cars and before they got the cars started, I was kissing my wife.

I lifted her onto the chest freezer and pressed the head of my cock against the lips of her pussy. I teased her for a moment, rubbing my cock up and down this soft lips. Then I eased forward, and we both looked down to watch as I entered her. First the head of my cock disappeared into her folds and then my shaft sank deep into her.

Once I had entered her completely, my eyes held hers. Slowly, I pulled almost out and then sank back into her warm, wet pussy. The feeling was exquisite, and my wife came almost immediately. My thrusting speeded up and she came again. I could feel her body shudder and shake as her body welcomed me.

Then I couldn't stop, my balls tighten, the cum rose in my shaft and exploded out of me. Each pulse increased the pleasure, while she orgasmed even more intensely. We just held each other as our breathing slowly returned to normal.

"I love you," we each whispered.