The Hayloft Unpleasant

WARNING: This is an adult story, containing sensitive material of a sexual nature, including graphic descriptions of consensual “vanilla” sex. If you find such material offensive or are underage, do not read further, but please bypass this story for one more suitable for you..

This story is written for enjoyment and entertainment purposes only, and no commercial profit is expected to be made from it. It may be copied for personal use or for posting on other sites, provided the sites are free sites . . . it may NOT be posted on any site that requires a “membership fee” of any kind. Posting on an “Adultcheck” type site (which might cost a few dollars a year for access to many sites) is permissible but not on an “Adultcheck Gold” site, which requires much more money.

The youngsters in this story did not use any birth control measures . . . because he is a selfish, inconsiderate clod. Of course, we know that all reasonable adults should behave responsibly when participating in sexual activities and they wish to avoid conception and the spread of disease.

I had never dated much. I was just the proverbial farmer’s daughter. I wasn’t pretty enough be to a cheerleader and I wasn’t smart enough to a class officer, and I wasn’t rich enough to wear really nice clothes. I was just a nobody, someone who blended into the wallpaper and was almost invisible. Most days I just went home after school and did my farm chores, spent some time studying, and would spend a little time reading before going to bed early.

When I reached puberty, my reading material changed from Nancy Drew to “romance novels”. It always felt good when the handsome, successful businessman would fall in love with a simple girl like me. Once he got to know her, he would love her and they would live happily ever after. But I also began to notice that the romance novels seemed to fall into two categories: one seemed to be for younger readers where the couple would possibly share a chaste kiss, while in the other group of novels, the couple to become much more physical, frequently becoming passionate long before they actually fell in love. Sometimes, they would even make love. But it always seemed to follow that once they had become physical, true love would follow and , although they sometimes had rocky times, they would eventually get married. That always made me tingly.

I sometimes wondered if I would ever fall in love . . . because you have to get to know a boy before you can fall in love with him . . . and since I didn’t date much, I never had much of a chance to meet boys other than in school.

Finally, during my junior year, I decided that I didn’t want to just sit and wait for some boy to notice me and start talking to me, so I made it a point to join groups in the hallways and listen in on the conversations and participate whenever I could. It was difficult because I felt like an outsider, but I stuck to it.

Finally, it paid off! I became aware that Steve was often at my side during these hallway conversations, and he would ask me questions and sometimes we would continue talking even after the group broke apart. Steve was a senior, and was on the Football team, but he never played very much. He asked me to sit in a particular area of the bleachers so he could see me when he came out on the field before the game. Then he would find me, and although he wouldn’t wave or anything like that, he smiled at me before he started warming up with the team. After that, I always arrived at the football field early so I could sit in the same seat at every game.

Near the end of the football season, he asked me to go to a movie with him. He picked me up at my home (Daddy insisted on that) and met my parents (Mommy insisted on that), and after a few minutes of conversation, we left for the movie. I had told Mom and Dad that I wouldn’t’ be late because Steve was in training and had a curfew. We held hands in the movie, and I enjoyed the touch of his hand so much that I didn’t pay much attention to the movie. The movie was a long one, and afterwards, we only had time for him to drive me home, where he walked me to the door and we said goodnight. Mom and Dad were up in their bedroom when I got home, and they were pleased (although they tried hard not to show it) that Steve had brought me home when we had said he would.

A couple of weeks later, the football season ended, and Steve and I went to another movie. I told my parents that I would be out later because Steve didn’t have a curfew now that the season was over.

The movie this time was shorter, and we went to have some ice cream after the movie. Then we drove home, and we parked in my driveway and talked for a while. And he kissed me. It was wonderful, and it felt good to put my head against his shoulder as we talked some more. Then, Mom turned on the yard light . . . telling me that I had been parked in the yard long enough, and that I had better get inside. Steve waked me to the door again, and this time we kissed good night.

At the end of our next date, I suggested that Steve not park in our driveway, but rather to pull off the road behind a group of trees that formed a windbreak across from our house. The turnoff to “our place” was hidden from my house by our barn, so that my parents, if they were watching, couldn’t see us pull off the road.

Once parked, we kissed. Then we kissed some more. And some more.

It felt so good! But after a while. I had to stop it because Mom and Dad would be expecting me home. So Steve backed the car out (with the headlights off) and we drove around the block so he could pull into my driveway and walk me up to the door. (Mom and Dad like it when he had the courtesy to walk me to the door at the end of a date.)

For our next date, we skipped the movie and had some ice cream before we returned to “our place” in the trees behind the barn. Steve told me he would be getting a letter in football this season, because he had stayed on the team each year in high school. He was a little bitter about getting his letter this way and not being able to play. As he talked about his disappointment at having to stay on the bench, I sensed his vulnerability, and I listened carefully without comment. He appreciated being able to talk without my being judgmental, and I appreciated his willingness to open his soul to me. As the evening grew later, I really enjoyed the attention he gave me with our arms around each other and he whispered little things in my ear and kissed my ear and my neck. I gradually became aware that his left arm had moved from my back to my side, almost grazing the side of my breast. No boy had ever touched my breast, so I was a little frightened at the proximity of his hand. I didn’t want him to take it away. I most definitely was not about to push his hand away because I liked him and I wanted him to like me, so. I leaned back against the car seat and dropped my right hand to my lap, effectively opening my front to his touch, but he didn’t follow up. I think he was shy and nervous. After more kissing, he took me to my door and kissed me goodnight.

Before our next date, two things happened that deeply affected me. My prize ewe gave birth to a precious little lamb, that filled me with pride and delight. The second event took place the morning of the day I was to meet Steve. We bred our mare. If you’ve never seen a stallion bred with a mare, there is no way you can visualize the effect this had on me. I had seen it before, but never when I was dating a handsome, strong man who cared for me. The fact I was dating Steve and had spent time in his arms change the way I felt when I saw the Stallion mount the mare, biting her neck, and seeing the mare back into him as the stallion took her. Nothing had changed for the horses, but a great deal had changed for me. The rest of the day, I wandered around in school, almost in a daze . . . thinking about the mare . . . and about Steve! And the more I thought about it, the hotter I became. And the Hotter I became, the more I wanted Steve. Steve had never laid a finger on me . . . but I kept thinking about his hand and how close it had been to my breast, and I knew I wanted that to change. I wanted that to change tonight!

It was fall and already dark when he picked me up, I asked him do drive directly to “our place” behind the barn, where I fell into his arms. As soon as possible, I leaned back into my seat, opening my breasts to his exploration, but he didn’t proceed. After a period of kisses, which caused my frustration level to rise to an intolerable level, I told him about the ewe and asked him if he wanted to see the new baby lamb. Always interested in my life, he said yes. We left the car where it was and walked to barn. Our approach to the barn was hidden from my parent’s sight, and we used the rear entrance to the barn.

The full moon provided enough light Inside the barn that I could show him the baby lambs without having to turn on the light. He made the appropriate :”Ooooohs” and “Aaaahs!” Then I took him and showed him the mare and told him that we had just bred her that morning. To him, she was just another horse, but to me she symbolized something very different.

I offered to show him one of my favorite sights and led him up the ladder to the hayloft and opened the rear door to the hayloft showing the rolling hills of our farm bathed in the moonlight. I always enjoyed this sight. He said it was nice, but obviously he didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as I did. But I appreciated his willingness to share with me. I sat on a bale of hay in the moonlight as he looked around. Slightly embarrassed, he mentioned that he had heard jokes about what happened “in the hayloft” with “the farmer’s daughter”, and embarrassed, I denied them all. He sat beside me and apologized for hurting my feelings and we started kissing. Soon, we moved from the hay bale to some loose hay on the floor and I lay back allowing him to lean over me to kiss me. Soon his hand was at the side of my chest, and even though I moved back and forth, it never seemed to get any closer to my breast. After watching the stallion and mare that morning, I really wanted the feeling of a man’s hand on my breast. I wanted more than just a hand on my breast, but I was afraid to think beyond that point.

Since he wouldn’t touch me, I ran my hand over his chest as we kissed. Very unobtrusively, I loosened the top button on his shirt. He didn’t seem to notice and kept kissing me the same as before, so took the lead and rolled him over on his back We continued kissing and I released the next button and slipped my hand inside his shirt to touch is bare breast.

He gasped at my touch and froze, but I kept kissing him as I caressed his chest. As he relaxed, my fingers found his nipple. A man’s nipple is a funny little thing, small and flat, sticking out just a little, but to my surprise, it seemed to grow as I touched it. It didn’t grow much, but it definitely got larger and harder. Then his hand found my breast, and it was my turn to gasp and freeze. He was almost afraid to move his hand now that it had found me, so we just stayed there, both of us afraid to move. And I realized that if I didn’t do something to let him know it was OK, he might take his hand away, so I pressed his hand to my chest and leaned down to give him the deepest kiss I could.

That did the job, and he began exploring my chest as we kissed passionately. While we kissed, I found the buttons on my blouse and slowly opened them. When my blouse was open, we rolled over again so I was on my back looking up at him. He looked at my open blouse and slipped his hand inside it and his fingers and hand cupped my bra. I had chosen my bra carefully, selecting one that had a single hook in front, but he didn’t seem to know about such things. He was afraid to go further than just running his hands over my breasts and squeezing them occasionally, so I unhooked the bra for him.

He watched fascinated as the bra loosened. I lay back as he ever so gently peeled the fabric back and for the first time since I was a child, a man looked on my naked exposed breasts. Slowly he bent down and kissed my nipple. Then he started to suckle me, and I felt a huge breath of air escape from my lungs. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath. As he kissed and licked and suckled my breasts, I ran my fingers through his hair, holding is face and mouth to me. Then I rolled him on his back again and moved over him to present my breast to his hungry mouth. As he sucked more, I unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way and we slipped it off of his shoulders. Then I lowered my mouth to his and we kissed deeply and I felt the electricity jolting through me as we pressed our chests together, skin to skin. We kissed like that for a long time, and slowly, hesitantly, his hand moved down to my hip and stopped there.

Damn! Was he going to stop at the hip like he had stopped at my side? I put my and on his and led his hand down my leg until it passed the hem of my skirt and rested on the bare skin of my leg. Then I rolled onto my back again, and gazed into his eyes as his trembling hand slowly moved up the outside of my leg to my hip, then up to my bare stomach under the waistband of my skirt, then downward until his feather-light fingers barely touched my mound through my panties. I almost swooned at his touch. My hand fell to the hay beside my shoulder, palm up and I gasped for breath as his fingers began to move in small gentle movements sending thrills throughout my entire being. I don’t know how long I lay there as he gently stroked me. Gone were the visions of the Stallion and the mare. Instead, they were placed with fleeting thoughts of me with my stallion, the stallion who was caressing me more intimately than I had ever been touched in my life!

Again his hand moved to the waistband of my panties and he began edging my panties down, and I panicked, grabbing his hand and stopping him.

“I just want to look at you, to see you. To see all of you,” he whispered, reassuringly.

He had seen by breasts, touched and tasted my breasts. Could I refuse him this request that seemed simple enough? Still, I was nervous and afraid. I didn’t want to refuse him. He had paid attention to me, cared for me, loved me. I wanted to keep him, and I was afraid I wouldn’t if I refused him. I felt lost in his deep eyes and I came out with an answer that even surprised me.

“Only if I can see you, too.”

After a moment’s astonishment, he nodded and his hand went to his belt buckle.

“No,” I stopped him. “Let me! Please!”

He smiled and nodded. Then again he lay back on the hay and I sat up on my knees beside him to unbuckle his belt. I must have been a sight with my skirt bunched up around my waist, my shirt and bra hanging open and my breasts bouncing in the moonlight. The buckle opened and the zipper came down, but I couldn’t get the button open. After some embarrassing fumbling, he helped me and his waistband released. He lifted his hips as I pulled down his jeans to below his knees. He was wearing jockeys and I blushed at the enormous bulge inside them.

Timidly, I reached out and touched the bulge with a finger. Then with several fingers, and to my amazement, it seemed to grow even more. I gently grasped the bulge through the fabric and he closed his eyes, laying his head back. Did this simple touch effect him so much? I took the waistband of his shorts and pulled it downward, but his shorts got caught on his . . . thing! He smiled and lifted his shorts over his . . . thing and I stared fascinated as I saw my very first erect penis. He was circumcised, very hard, throbbing gently, and was veeeerrrry big.

Sex would be impossible for us! He was too big . . . there was no way that all of that could fit inside me. I could only sit there gawking at his enormous nakedness. Suddenly, I realized I was staring and a big blush flowed over me and I looked at him in embarrassment.

He was smiling tenderly, enjoying my fascination with him. “You can touch me if you want,” He offered. I looked away quickly shaking my head, my embarrassment flooding over me. He sat up beside me and put his arm around me and we kissed again. Then he lowered me to my back and said, “Your turn!”

Again, he lifted my skirt out of the way and grasped the waistband of my panties at my hips, gently pulling them down.

“Mmmmmm, nice!” he commented as I came into view. I lifted my hips, and then my knees and legs until he slipped my panties over my heels. He put them in his pocket. Then he reclined beside me, his gaze moving my and down my body. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, so I put my hand over my chest, hiding my breasts from his view.

“Nooooo!”, he said gently, taking my hand and gently pushing it to my side, giving him an unobstructed view of me. I left my hand at my side. If he wanted to look at me, then I wanted him to look at me. I knew I didn’t have an outstanding body like some of the girls did, but seeing the admiration in his eyes, it didn’t matter at all. He was enjoying seeing me just the way I was!

“May

I

touch

you

?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine. Oooohhh, yes! I wanted him to touch me, to caress me, to love me. Without a word, I nodded, and his hand found me. It caressed my mound, the tops of my legs. In response to his gentle prodding, I separated my legs and he traced the edges of my lips and gently parted them. I quivered as he ran his finger along the length of my labia, and returned to find my entrance. He gently nudged and I gasped again as the tip of his finger enter me. He pushed deeper and I whimpered . . .

“Please . . . I’m a virgin . . . “

He didn’t seem to know what he should do with this information. After a moment, he responded, “Me, too,” but he kept on pressing with his finger, apparently not knowing what he was doing. I gasped as my maidenhead gave way under his poking, but he was oblivious to what was happening. I was disheartened that I had lost my hymen to

a finger

! But I knew I was glad that it was

his

finger. It was a pity that he didn’t appreciate what had happened.

He continued his explorations of me, finally removing his finger and cupping my mons and we kissed deeply. He started to move on top of me, and I had a sudden pang of worry.

“I don’t have any protection.” I whispered

“That’s all right, neither do I,” he responded as he moved into position and settled between my legs. His fingers to spread my lips, I felt him nestle between them and he started pushing. He was positioned wrong and couldn’t gain entrance, so he pushed harder trying to force his way into a place where there was no opening. It started to hurt.

“Here, let me . . . “ With a trembling hand, I reached between us and found him and moved him to my entrance. And I felt the head of his penis begin to enter me.

“Please be gentle . . . you’re my first. . .” I begged. But he didn’t know how to be gentle at that moment. He pushed into me with one thrust, and although I was wet from anticipation, I wasn’t ready for the harsh entrance and it felt like sandpaper entering me. We both gasped as he entered me . . . he in ecstasy and I in pain. Almost immediately, he began pumping in and out, and as my juices began their lubrication, the pain passed, and soon I was moving in unison with him, meeting his trusts. Just as I was starting to get warmed up, I felt him stiffen. He held his breath, then began firing his seed into me, gasping and moaning with each spasm of his body. Almost immediately he pulled out of me, and I was all wet.

He started to pull away from me, but I held him and begged him to stay with me for a few minutes. Thankfully, he did. I held him and snuggled to his chest, and after a moment, he put his arm back around me and pressed me close to him. That small amount of cuddling made the whole experience worthwhile.