Front Royal

Folks are moving to farm country to build their McMansions. The demolition crews came with heavy trucks, creating big muddy ruts in the road. In the next weeks, construction teams banged their hammers for months, erecting houses. Here come the city people, playing loud music, littering beer cans and getting stuck in the ditch. The latest rumor was that next door they were going to build a big and sprawling Bed'n'Breakfast called "The River Mist".

Someone said they had their own website and were booking a big grand opening. I about choked when they said it was a gay-friendly, lesbian ranch. I can't imagine that would be true. Somebody's sure to run them out of town.

My name is Jodi Lee. My farm was in the family of my late husband Tom, who was a US Marine. Widowed 9 years ago, I never remarried. As long as I feed the chickens and tend the garden, I won't worry about a roof over my head. I raised my daughter Abby on the straight and narrow. The church is where we socialized, or at the grocery store.

I don't play radio or TV except to get the news and weather. Even the TV evangelists were proven to be frauds. I don't have much affection for modern culture.

Farm life left me thin and fit, except my boobs are fairly big. Why would a hard working person need a gym membership? Other than a wrinkled tan face, I show few signs my 40 years.

Male suitors gave up sweet talking the young widow since I had no interest in making babies anymore. Tough, I suppose I still hold out the possibility of finding a good man.

And then my daughter Abby grew up. This year, she moved out to get her own apartment. She is 18, in the full bloom of her youth. She looked much like I did at that age-tall and thin, with slight curves in all the right places. I am now alone in my "Little House on the Prairie' with invading Washingtonians.

On their June grand opening, a dozen women arrived in their expensive sports cars and had a wild time. They played loud rock music danced outdoors, whooping it up until about 11 p.m., past my bedtime. I assume they were drunk. Great neighbors.

I tried to be Christian about it, but I was seething with anger. You could see those women cuddling by their bonfire past midnight. It struck me as very wrong. I imagined them going off to their guest rooms and carrying on their sinful lovemaking. Or maybe they will have an orgy.

I bought myself a telescope so I could keep an eye on them. I have seen the women sunbathing naked on the veranda. They are drinking beer and kissing each other sometimes. I hate to be a nosy neighbor, but something about lesbians bothers me.

The next morning at church my old friend Betty introduced me to a new lady at church. "Terry, I want you to meet Sylvia, who is new to our church." I noticed the elegantly dressed lady with her expensive perfume.

I shook her hand saying, "Welcome to our little community." I felt a jolt go up through my arm when I touched her. My hair on the back of my neck stood up.

She smiled broadly at me, stepping close to me. "Terry, I just love everything about the Shenandoah Valley, especially the people. It is so nice to meet you."

Of course, I asked her about her family and she answered, "It's just me. I just moved out of Arlington and built a house down by the Shenandoah."

"Honey, everything here is down by the Shenandoah, or at least a tributary!" I said. "North Fork or South Fork, they all twist around within 2 or 3 miles of every property in the area."

I had a feeling that I unknowingly had just shaken hands with the lesbian neighbor. I learned that she was the owner.

I didn't really want to talk to her too much, but I was glad to know the enemy. The devil you know is better than the one you don't. I should keep a Christian civility. Could I really judge other people? I wondered about lesbians going to church, though I had heard of lesbian 'pastors'. Who is the hypocrite?

Weeks passed and the lesbian ranch filled up on weekends, and they always got noisy on weekends. I imagined the women in bed licking and touch each other's naked body. It isn't natural.

One weekend, on Saturday after dinner, I heard a bunch of hollering and splashing down at the river. I wondered who was down on my property, so I brought my shotgun.

As I stomped down to the river, I saw 10 naked women in all their glory splashing around the water. Most of them were rough-housing, grabbing each other, and having the time of their life. Two women were kissing, breasts pressed together in a tight hug.

"Ladies, what do you think you're doing?" I asked, raining on their parade.

They were all breasts and legs and arms. I hadn't seen so much skin in my entire life. Some were a little chubby, and others had the body of a goddess, tall and curvy.

Some kept giggling and bouncing in the water. I wanted just enough reaction to stop their fun and send them back to Sylvia. Slowly, they quieted down.

"You know you're trespassing on my property." I barked.

One woman yelled up to me, "Why don't you join us? Take your clothes off and jump in. The water is warm."

"Hey, that chick with the gun is kinda hot," another one said about me.

I shouted back, "Maybe y'all don't know about cow pastures. Every time it rains, it washes fecal material into that river. It's dirtier than it looks!" Their jaws dropped. "A word to the wise-take a shower afterwards, not a bath. Use lots of soap. I hope you ladies don't get diarrhea or bladder infections."

Those naked women marched out of the river, right by me, and back up the hill to the Bed'n'Breakfast. I went back to call Sylvia on the telephone. I called 411 to get the number.

"Hello, River Mist Bed'n'Breakfast," Sylvia said as she answered.

"You got a bunch of naked, muddy ladies coming back to you. I suggest they keep out of the river. It's not sanitary. They'll need a shower. Can't you keep your guests out of trouble?"

"Oh, I'm awfully sorry, they said they were going to the woods, but I never thought they'd go onto your property." She kept apologizing so much that I regretted coming down so hard on her. I think she was crying. "I'm not trying to complicate everyone's life. I am trying not to have any friction with the neighbors, especially you."

Especially me? Am I that nasty? I apologized for being the bearer of bad news, saying "I wanted to tell you directly, so you could get a handle on this problem. I'm sorry I came down so hard on you."

I don't want to be the ogre. Did I really care about what Sylvia thought of me? Do I really want her friendship? She makes me nervous.

After I hang up I took a long shower, something I rarely do unless I'm dirty. I cried with the water running down my body. I couldn't explain my tears, just exhaustion of being alone and hard on everybody.

I felt that I needed to visit the River Mist. I stomped up the dirt road, which was muddy from a light Sunday rain, prepared for a fight with Miss Sylvia from church. I entered the fenced area and walked up to the front yard. Ding Dong, I rang the doorbell.

Sylvia happily answered the door and invited me in. I hesitated outside, but truthfully I wanted to look around at the new house, snooping for clues.

Entering her front door, a Yorkshire came and sniffed my blue jeans. I realized I should remove my dirty boots if before I discuss things with Sylvia. "Would you rather I go around the back of the house with my muddy boots?" I asked her.

She was dressed nicely, and but she was muscular and fit for a suburban lady. In spite of my moral differences with her, she was hard to dislike.

"No, not at all. While you remove your boots, I will go get some iced tea." Her hospitality was frustrating to me. Her home was also beautiful.

"Tea is fine, thanks" I answered. Pulling off my boots, I was mindful that I was removing clothes in a lesbian woman's house, even if it was just my boots. I felt like I was losing control of the situation and nobody had even started talking much.

She returned with a tray with glasses of iced tea. Worried about sounding paranoid, I calmly told her, "I am concerned about the unruly guests. I need to have some assurance that the wild behavior will cease."

She answered, "Sorry about that. I'm going to keep a better eye on the guests. I hope we don't have any more crazy incidents. If you want I can pay for 'No Trespassing' signs on your property."

Sylvia looked me right in the eyes to assure me that she would prevent her guests causing future problems. As I left her house she shook my hand. I felt the same electric jolt as when I touched her at church the day I met her. Flustered, I said goodbye and walked back down to my house.

I prayed about Sylvia's sinful ways. And I prayed for myself too.

I need someone in my life. I don't want to be lonely anymore. I hate to have sexual feelings, being all alone in my bed every night. You can't give in to every impulse, but nature has a way of making your blood boil.

Every couple of days Sylvia and I see each other at church, or on our little dirt road or at the mailbox. I'm becoming accustomed to bumping into her. Her bubbly personality is rare for these parts.

So many months passed as the seasons changed. Summer became Autumn, and then Winter.

Sylvia sent over a basket of fresh fruit for Christmas and I brought over freshly laid eggs to say thanks.

My daughter Abby spent Christmas Day with me. When I went off on a tirade complaining about Sylvia, but Abby confronted me. "You know all the church ladies say that you are a lesbian. Did you know that?"

"What?!!" I blurted out, not able to believe what I was hearing.

"Look, you are masculine, you hate men, and you talk about lesbians all the time. Figure it out for yourself," she said.

"Is Sylvia spreading lies about me?" I demanded.

"No, Sylvia defends you. As a matter of fact, these rumors started years ago, before she arrived. She and I are the only ones who are on your side."

That was a bitter pill to swallow. Coming from my daughter I had to believe it. I wondered what I had to do to salvage my reputation, fuck a guy? Pardon my French.

Several cold weeks went by and then the season's first big snow was coming. The weathermen predicted 10-15 inches, with more to the West in the mountains.

Unfortunately, we are in West up in the mountains, so we actually got 30 inches overnight, and more coming!

My little road was impassable and could be for several days waiting for the plow. Four-wheel can't get through that. We're trapped!

We lost electricity. My wood-burning stove keeps me warm and I never worry about the power going out. The lights flickered once, but never came back. I called the power company, who said it could take 2 to 3 days to restore.

When I hung up the phone, I immediately called Sylvia. I was glad she answered because my phone won't ring when the power is out.

She was already in a panic. Her guests were freezing in that cold house. It was 50 degrees and falling fast. "Do you have heat?" she asked. "We are all shivering here inside, putting on hats and gloves to stay warm."

"How many people do you have there? I have a wood-burning stove, and a couple of spare rooms." I answered.

"Five, including myself. We don't have any firewood," she explained. "I burned it up over the holidays, just to keep it cozy for the guests."

"Oh, boy," I said. "Well, you may as well bring them all down here." I wanted to be charitable, but I surprised myself inviting all of them down here. It was what needed to be done.

I could already imagine all six of us sharing my only bathroom. I pictured the shivering lesbians, with their hardened nipples, rolling around in my beds. I dismissed the thought and searched for blankets and sheets.

I said to myself, "Now let's see. I have the guest room with a bunk bed and Abby's full-size bed in her old room, and the pull-out sofa in the living room. That ought to be enough."

The guest room was it was too cold for comfort, being too distant from the wood-burning stove. Everyone would sleep with the doors open to keep warm. This was going to be a logistical nightmare. I boiled several gallons of water to be prepared.

I called Sylvia back to have the ladies minimize what they'd bring, such a toothbrush and pajamas. She said they'd come right away. I got the snow shovel out dig a small opening around the door.

I watched the ladies trudge through the waist deep snow. They really didn't have proper winter gear, scarves, gloves, and hats. Just a hundred yards, it was a long, exhausting walk.

Sylvia was shivering and you could see her blue jeans were soaked with icy water. All the women were shivering. I ushered them in the door and knew what must be done. "Take your shoes, coat, and trousers off and stand near the fire...but not your blouses!" I commanded them.

They stripped down formed a semi-circle around the fire, slowly warming themselves. They all had stripped to their panties and bare legs, so it was quite a sight. Their legs were an odd bright pink color with blood rushing back into them. After a minute someone would swivel around so their butts faced the fire instead.

After a minute, Sylvia introduced them to me. This is Laura and Wendy, and Janice and Barbara. They were all such young beautiful women. Why didn't they have men in their life?

Sylvia took me aside. "I want to thank you so much for rescuing us. I never knew it would snow so much. I will have to buy a backup generator, not that I know how to use one."

I said, "Don't worry. That's what neighbors are for." I shook my head after watching these poor ladies recover from near frostbite. I went off to fix hot chocolate and tea for them.

After they drank their warm drinks and their legs warmed up, I sat them down on the sofa with blankets to cover them for modesty. We stayed cooped up by the fire for hours. I kept tending the thawing clothes and occasionally going outside to shovel my walkway.

It would get dark early, so I hurried to put food together. By the time we ate and washed dishes in the frigid water, the sun was setting. All my guests started carrying plates back to the kitchen and offer to wash dishes before the last light evaporated.

Soon, we were left to candles and the red glow of the stove. It was time to decide the bedding arrangements. "Laura, you two can have my daughter's old room." I swallowed as I assigned two lesbians to sleep in my daughter's old bed.

"Barbara," I continued, "I will let you have the sleeper sofa."

"Sylvia, you will need to share the bed with me." I can't believe I said it, but it was the only sensible arrangement. At 6 p.m. the whole house was pitch black. The ladies were changing and getting ready for bed. I wondered what hanky-panky may occur in my house.

I changed into my night shirt, but left my panties on. The house got cooler, but the snow added insulation, so it wasn't too bad. The bedrooms were much colder, however, and as expected we had to leave the doors open to circulate the heat.

Sylvia climbed on the other side of the bed, where Tom had slept so many years ago. She thanked me again for letting them stay here and started chit-chatting. I was distracted by her nice perfume that she wore even in snowy weather. Our arms touched in the middle of the bed.

"Oh, it's wonderful how you took us into your home. I am so sorry that we got off on the wrong foot. I am sorry if we have imposed on you. You're so nice to me in spite of all the problems. Thanks for being such a good friend." And she leaned over and kissed me on my cheek.

I blushed and pulled away. She kept chatting, and soon I heard the other ladies similarly chatting, pillow talk. Laying next to my lesbian invader, I drifted into sleep to the whispers of a full house.

In the middle of the night, I awoke to find Sylvia's head on my shoulder. She dozed contentedly and I couldn't move her. I was happy for the heat in my bed, something I hadn't felt in years. Her bare leg was pressed against mine, like we were sisters. I stared at the dark ceiling, listening to a quiet house. Nothing sexual had happened. Sylvia had conducted herself well.

Before dawn, I got out of bed again to add logs to the fire. Approaching the living room, I noticed the two women in the sleeper sofa had the covers thrown back. They were naked and slowly moving about.

I hushed as my eyes adjusted. One woman's head was between the thighs of the other one. I couldn't make out all the detail, but she was obviously licking the woman's crotch.

I held my breath not to disturb them. I should have been revolted, but I silently watched the delicate process for about 10 minutes. I heard slurps, heavy breathing, and soft moans. The woman receiving the pleasure was slowly writhing on the bed and quickening her breath. She let out a small yelp and an "Oh." I smelled the unmistakable musky sex odor, but it made me excited. In spite of myself, I was a captivated witnessing this bizarre act of women sexually exploring each other.

I tried to imagine which intimate parts she was licking, and how two ladies could be so sexual and beautiful together. I stayed watching a few minutes, not wanting to get caught, until my feet got cold made me return to bed. I abandoned adding wood until they lovers had finished.

I touched my nipples and they were damn hard. My head was swooning with horny thoughts and I slinked back into bed with Sylvia, as she still slept. Under the covers, I slowly traced the moisture of my pussy lips, but lost the nerve to masturbate as I lay next to Sylvia. I just drifted into vivid dreams of sex with women.

I awoke when the sun had risen. Something was different today. All four of the guest women came in to pounce on my bed like kids on Christmas morning. Sylvia and I were like Mom and Dad. "Wake up, sleepy heads. What's for breakfast?" said one of them.

Another one chimed in, "I put a couple of logs on the fire, but we are running low. We need some more firewood, but somebody is going to have to dig out the firewood under the snow."

"Oh, what a glorious day!" proclaimed Sylvia.

The sun was shining, but the snow was even deeper, and the power was still off. These women may be here several days! But surprisingly, I was happy with the buzzing of a busy house.

Sylvia got up quickly and shed her nightshirt, and I saw her body for the first time. She had big nice breasts and big circles around her nipples. She looked good naked. I wondered who was watching me glance at her body.

Soon she changed into long johns. I'd never seen her wear anything that wasn't feminine before, but today she pulled on jeans and flannel shirt.

I allowed myself to dress in front of them, changing panties and everything. I was a little embarrassed, but I couldn't figure out my sudden lack of shame. I also dressed in long johns and flannel.

It was time to do the tasks of the day. We got wood and made breakfast. We cleaned up. Everything was working as a team.

Those women were cheerful and helped me in any way they could. I checked on the chickens, before we all shoveled out the walkway and driveway together.

We had a fun snowball fight, too. Sylvia made snow angels. It was a nice morning, and it was funny how the extra burden of snow pulled us together like a family.

One of the guests, Barbara, caught up to me as I went inside to make lunch. "Thanks for letting us stay here. I realize it's cramped. We're all missing work. Believe me, we'll be out of your hair as soon as the plows come."

"Don't worry Barbara. I couldn't let y'all freeze to death."

"Well, thanks." She repeated.

Then she talked about Sylvia, what a great person she is. I wondered if she was trying to fix me up with my bedmate.

Then she dropped a bomb, "You were watching us this morning," Barbara said. "You watch us make love."