The Farmers Daughters Pt 01

Copyright 2012, 2020 Lisa Summers

(Author's note - I decided not to change any of the time periods or political references in this story written 8 years ago, because it's about love, not war.)

Afghanistan 2004

Emily Anderson preceded Kit Taylor by a half hour entering the small house, located in a small village outside Kabul, lent to them by a sympathetic Afghan woman named Anoosheh. It was simply furnished, but an ideal location for a rare, and hard to arrange liaison between two women who were often under the eyes of the Afghans themselves, as well as the United States Army and the Central Intelligence Agency.

Emily wore a burqa - besides being ugly, it prevented a lot of questions. Such as, why was a fair-haired American woman entering an Afghan widow's house without following the usual formalities?

Emily was greeted warmly by Anoosheh, and was surprised to find that the Afghan woman was both beautiful and sophisticated. Anoosheh grew excited as Emily disrobed from the shapeless blue garment, revealing the slim, young, and blonde American within, wearing a simple cotton blouse and linen skirt.

"You are so beautiful!" Anoosheh exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "And your outfit, it is so lovely." Emily as well admired the Afghan woman, wearing a short dress of French design, her hair beautifully coiffed, her makeup perfect. She was younger than Emily had expected, perhaps thirty, her hair was long and glossy, and black as night.

"Afghan women love to dress up at home, it is really our only opportunity to be real women," Anoosheh said, as she saw Emily's eyes run lingeringly up and down her body. She preened for the pretty American.

"My husband and I were educated in Great Britain, and resolved to help move our homeland into modern times. Unfortunately, we have been less than successful, but I still hold out hope for the future of our people. Sadly, my husband was killed five years ago, but his spirit lives on through me," Anoosheh said in her only slightly accented voice.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Emily said, taking the woman's hands in hers. "It must be so difficult..."

"I have adapted," Anoosheh said, with a smile. "In tribute to his memory, I will never be with another man. But there are compensations..." Anoosheh smiled more broadly this time, and Emily felt a stirring in her loins.

"There are many women here who have 'adapted' to such things, and we often get together. We make do." She laughed, and Emily chuckled as well. It was a pleasant surprise for the svelte American soldier, a Lieutenant in the United States Army.

Anoosheh offered Emily hot tea, and the two woman sat and chatted as they waited for Emily's lover, Kit, to arrive.

After about a half hour, they heard a quick knock on the door frame, then Kit's anxious voice. "Emily, are you here?"

Anoosheh opened the door, and as the shapeless burqa swept in, Anoosheh quickly closed the door after her. Kit quickly pulled off the burqa, and Emily's heart leapt at the sight of her lover. Kit was very similar in looks to Emily, though her hair was several shades darker, and cut somewhat shorter. Both women were of medium height, although Kit was two inches taller than Emily, with slim bodies, petite facial features and blue eyes. Kit was clad in blouse and slacks.

"Sorry, I had to come from an assignment," she explained. Kit was nominally an 'agricultural expert' attached to the United States Embassy, but there was little doubt that she had other, more important even if undisclosed, duties on behalf of the government's intelligence agency, the CIA.

Anoosheh offered Kit some tea as well, and as she prepared it, Kit assisting, Emily thought back to how the two American women had first met.

They each had come from farming communities - one from upstate New York, the other from Kansas, and it was that shared interest that had initially brought them together. They laughed over diet sodas in the military lounge over the thought of two Future Farmers of America ending up in Afghanistan, with neither in reality doing anything even remotely resembling farm work. One thing they found that they had in common was being their daddies' favorites of all his kids - they were definitely 'farmer's daughters,' and jokingly referred to each other that way. Their talk was rarely political, particularly since one of them intended to vote for incumbent President Bush in the upcoming elections, and the other was leaning to Senator John Kerry as her choice.

That first afternoon they talked, for the longest time, and into a chill night, about their families, until they each believed they knew the other's sisters and brothers, father and mother, and their burgeoning friendship quickly grew into love, a deeper and hotter love than either of them knew could ever exist.

Their first sense of that love, a hot and burning sexual desire, was expressed through their eyes. 'Gateway to the soul,' yes, and in their cases, flashing alerts to the degree and amount of interest they had in the other. Emily looked up, that first time, to see Kit's eyes fixed on her breasts.

Rude? Yes. Frank? Yes. But when those eyes then lifted up to fix on her own eyes, Emily caught on fire, Kit the burning match put to Emily's kerosene, and Emily knew that Kit hadn't been rude in her own view, but honest in her need and attraction.

"I don't know what it is, Emily...I have to...I must, be with you." A flustered moment. "I'm sorry." Kit made a move to rise from the table and flee.

"No...wait, Kit. I understand, I think." A pause. "I feel it too." Kit's look of disbelief, then dawning hope, then a glimmer of cynicism - a lifetime of experience in a glance.

"It's true," Emily continued. "From the first time I saw you, I knew that I wanted - well, so much - to know you, to be with you, to experience things with you..."

From that inauspicious start blossomed the flower of their love. Emily recalled their 'recon' mission in a Humvee to a remote Afghan village - ignoring protocol, just a soldier and an embassy attaché, no support personnel. How could they bring others? They hungered for each other's sweet taste, smell and touch.

"God, Kit, in a hummer?"

"Shut up, there've been worse places in human history...you want me, don't you?"

"Oh god, yes! I want you in me...on me...I need to cum with you actually in the same place with me instead of teasing me on the phone."

Kit smiled, and unwrapped Emily's scarf from around her neck, a slight puff of dust erupting from the fabric as she brought it behind her dirty blonde hair.

"What a fucking country." She began unbuttoning Emily's military tunic buttons hurriedly, exposing Emily's sweet, full breasts, still encased in khaki bra.

"God, your breasts..." Kit marveled. She leaned in to nuzzle them, loving the warm, soft feel of the woman's chest against her cheeks, instantly absorbing a sense of security and...home.

Emily instinctively brought her arms and hands around Kit's head, embracing her new lover closer to herself, feeling both protector and protected. Both women felt a tingle growing to a buzz in the pit of their stomachs, knowing it would soon relocate to a sweeter spot.

Kit raised her face to Emily's, seeing a face much like her own amid the sea of strangeness they were daily surrounded by. Soft, pink lips unadorned by the frill of lipstick, so like her own, both waiting for the day back home when they could fully be completely feminine again, and with each other.

A softness in Emily's eyes, her own sight softly blurred by inexplicable momentary wetness, she crushed Emily's lips with her own, feeling tears on Emily's cheeks, not sure if it was hers, or Emily's or both. Their kiss expressed their need, voracious and unfed, and built their passions beyond control.

Kit grunted, her hands on Emily's soft cheeks, unable to let the young woman go, desiring them to join as one but only able to join her at that moment through their mouths, her tongue thrusting wetly and hotly into Emily's mouth, joy abundant as Emily responded as forcefully, her tongue gamboling with Kit's.

Sweet sounds of happiness from Emily, excitement increasing in the women, their thighs twisting and squeezing as the ineffable sweetness of their foreplay readied them for closer attentions.

Kit tore Emily's belt apart, near ripping buttons, pulling trousers down, down, down, panties partially following, desert khaki cotton fabric bunched around Emily's dusty boots, sweet girl's calves, knees and almost skinny thighs. Kit's heart swelled at how beautiful the girl's legs seemed at that moment.

Emily slipping her butt forward a few inches on the synthetic fabric of the military vehicle, her blouse falling off to the sides, her sweet panties now exposed to Kit's hungry eyes. Kit looked down at Emily's incredibly lovely crotch, plain dun-colored vee of cotton billowed out slightly by Emily's small bush and swelling labia, her pale thighs providing a contrast to her panties, and mesmerizing to Kit's beauty-starved eyes.

Her hungry eyes rose then, from the banquet table up, up, up to Emily's. Emily feeling anticipation overwhelmed by lack of confidence - would Kit like her?

"Would she hate my scrawny body?" she thought. Momentary fears banished by the look of wonder and excitement on Kit's face.

"Am I...okay?" Emily whispered.

"Oh god...I love you so!" Kit gasped. "I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much!" Kit babbled. She stroked the outside of Emily's thighs with her horny finger tips, only touching her lightly to make up for the touch she knew to be too, too rough. Emily knew why Kit was touching her so lightly, considerate of her lover, and loved her more for it.

"I love you, too, Kit," Emily whispered, afraid that her heart might explode from happiness.

Kit leaned down, and kissed Emily's thighs softly, laving the girl's smooth skin with rough tongue, Emily shivering with pleasure with the sensations of rough, and hot and moist that Kit's mouth, lips and tongue brought to her. Her vulva thrilled with pleasure as Kit came ever closer.

Kit tasted salt from the American girl's thighs, and smelled traces of her excitement, fresh and hot, emanating from the mystery land under the khaki cotton vee. Cognizant that this meeting would not, could not, be the extended honeymoon that they must both desire, she resolved to bring her sweet, blonde lover to a quick orgasm, to carry her further along until they could both be home again, in each other's arms, lazily making love, in a land where casual violence is a stranger.

She grasped the waistband of Emily's tiny panties between the thumb and forefinger of each hand, rapidly pulling them off Emily's full hips, down to join her crumpled khaki uniform trousers. Emily's sweet vulva lay exposed and defenseless, a willing target for Kit's attention. Emily sighed to be free of barriers, and open for her lover.

Kit, too, sighed, at the sheer beauty of Emily's vulva. Small, triangular pubic bush, soft, curly blonde-to-brunette hairs, sheer wisps of decoration really, crowning a small, fleshy pink appendage, Emily's clitoral hood, running seamlessly into her labia, darkly pink and fleshy, running parallel to the shadowy, moist slit between.

Kit's mouth opened, an O of fascination.

"Oh, Emily...god, you're fucking mouth-watering!" Emily giggled, and wriggled her hips slightly, her right hand instinctively going to cover her pussy in shyness. But she couldn't resist her index finger absently stroking her clit and labia. She may not even have been aware that she was doing it.

Kit saw that. "You tease," she said, grinning. She crawled under Emily's bound legs, then separated the girl's thighs, spreading them apart as far as her bound feet would allow, which caused Emily's legs to draw up, imprisoning Kit in Emily's crotch. She didn't mind that a bit.

"Such a pretty pussy," Kit crooned, her face only inches away from the blonde's sweet little cunt. Kit felt Emily's fingers running through her long brown hair, and brought her mouth closer to the girl's clearly wet and swelling vulva. Her breath raced softly over the blonde's wet mound.

"Ohhhh...that tickles," Emily whispered. "Nice."

Kit blew across Emily's clit, the girl's hips moving upward from the provocation. As her breath raced through Emily's small bush, the girl giggled.

"That tickles!" Kit smiled up at Emily, their eyes connecting momentarily. Emily closed her eyes, anxious for more. Kit returned to her pleasurable work.

She blew along the line of Emily's labia, breath racing over hot, moist pink flesh.

"Ooh, that's cool," Emily said, just before Kit ran her hot, wet tongue over the same area.

Emily groaned, as streams of pleasure coursed through her clit on their way to the rest of her body.

"Unnh, god, yesssss," she hissed.

Kit then attended to pleasing them both more directly, her tongue wriggling between Emily's lips, seeking out the creamy, satiny flesh within, lapping droplets of Emily's feminine essence into her hungry mouth.

Emily groaned again, her hips pushing up.

"God...Kit," she gasped, her fingers unconsciously digging into the brunette's scalp as her excitement increased, rational thought fleeing.

Kit was only dimly aware of any pain, and had she been asked, she would have insisted that she loved it, clear evidence of the pleasure that she was bringing to her love. She moved even closer to Emily's hot, near throbbing feminine center, her nose slowly circling Emily's wet clitoris, the small, pink pearl glistening with Emily's fluids, the hood now pulled back, allowing all sensation to reach her nerve center, Emily's excitement now growing beyond any control.

"Fuck," Emily moaned, apropos of nothing, just a relief valve for the volcano of lust and ecstasy near ready to burst inside her sweet frame. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Kit licked deeper inside her sweet, feminine lover's tight, hot hole, the narrowness of Emily's opening and the humidity of her genital area increased by the pants binding her feet together.

The first time that two lovers who are destined for a lifetime together make love, is like no other. Their ardor and involvement with the other is unusual - not just mutual masturbation, as much lovemaking sadly is, but a team effort of the one to maximize the other's pleasure, as well as their own.

Combine that effort with physical restraint, and the effect is, well, explosive.

Happily frustrated by having her feet held together, combined with the otherworldly degree of mutual affection that the two women seemed destined for, Emily was overwhelmed when Kit continued her sweet assault.

Kit licked up and down Emily's hot slit, the girl's creamy emission increasing noticeably, to Kit's massive enjoyment. After a few minutes of this teasing, pleasurable foreplay, Kit finally brought her lips to Emily's swollen, molten hot clitoris, the small but ultra-sensitive organ going into a kind of quantum shock at the touch of her plump, full lips. Emily's sensations increased to a whole, new and higher level, the electrical tendrils of pleasure that had been coursing through her previously, turning into streams of ecstasy seeming to flow through her entire body, stiffening her body as the flood of pleasure washed over her and drowned her in the ultimate delight.

"Oh god, god, GOD! I'm cumming, cumming, fuck, fuck, cumming, oh god GOD GOD GOD!!"

Kit later told her supervisor that she'd need to be on a course of analgesics due to 'a crick in my neck. I must have slept on it wrong or something.' Of course, the truth is, when Emily came as she did - explosively - her thighs clamped together, and she very nearly snapped Kit's neck.

As it was, Kit lay quietly between Emily's legs, trying to catch her breath and wondering if her head was still attached to her body, afraid to touch Emily's very, very tasty little pussy under the immediate conditions, as she might spasm again from a surfeit of pleasure and actually kill Kit unknowingly.

But Emily's body, and mind, slowly relaxed and grew limp, allowing Kit to reluctantly escape the sweet prison of Emily's hot crotch. She rubbed her neck, looking rueful. Emily opened her eyes, looking at Kit, her eyes full of love, then her eyes widened.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," Kit replied, smiling. "Just a muscle cramp."

Emily opened her arms to Kit, And Kit snuggled in the blonde's embrace.

"Mmm," Emily whispered, kissing Kit's ear and cheek. "I love you," she added. Kit pulled away, and gazed steadily into Emily's blue eyes, the color so much like her own.

"I love you, too, Em."

"I'd like to do you, too," Emily said. Kit looked at her watch, and then looked sad.

"I'm not sure that we have the time - or the room - really, for us both to be naked."

"Well, I'd really like to please you," Emily insisted.

"Here, sweetie," Kit replied, unbuckling and unbuttoning with one hand, and taking Emily's right hand with her left, then bringing it to the top of her own panties, now exposed along with her midriff.

Emily's hand burrowed down into Kit's panties, her fingers seeking out the brunette's sex. Both girls sighed at the same time, Emily at encountering Kit's hot and dripping honey pit, and Kit at the delightful feel of her sweet female lover's fingertips tracing over her labia and clit, then plunging into her wet, molten core.

"Unnh, that's good," Kit grunted, as Emily caressed Kit's plump and swelling vulva, sweet inch by sweet inch. With wet thumb and forefinger, Emily lightly circled, then rhythmically squeezed Kit's prominent clitoris, her strokes building Kit to a crescendo. Emily watched Kit's eyes like a hawk, judging her growing readiness, and after long minutes, rapidly stroked the woman's trigger-ready button while thrusting two stiff fingers into her hot hole.

Kit nearly leaped, ecstasy crashing through her for a long minute, until finally she had to push Emily's life-giving fingers away.

"I'm so sensitive," she gasped.

Emily withdrew her hand from Kit's now-satisfied cunt, then delicately sniffed her fingers, wet and wrinkled, and slipped them between her lips, savoring and delighting in her lover's taste, even if she couldn't sample it directly.

"Someday, I'm going to have you in a big, goose down filled mattress, like the beds at my family's farm, all naked and hot for me, scented candles all around us, soft music playing, and I'm going to kiss your sweet little vagina for days and days, and make you cum and cum and cum until you're insane with pleasure, like the Madwoman of Chaillot."

"Is that what that movie's about?" Kit remarked.

"I dunno, It seems like a nice thing to be insane about, though."

"Yeah," Kit agreed. They pulled up their clothes, and began the journey back to Kabul.

"Where did you first do it?" Kit asked, out of the blue, as she surveyed the colorless landscape outside the hummer.

"Sex, you mean?" Emily asked.

"With a girl," Kit said, nodding.

Emily laughed. "First time stories are always good." She paused, thinking back.

"Let's see. Her name was Cynthia, Cynthia Fontaine. She was Hawaiian, but you wouldn't know it by her name, because she was adopted."

Kit nodded, an unspoken early point being cleared up quickly. She appreciated that.

"She was my lab partner in Biology, senior year in high school. She was grateful that I was a farm girl, because I didn't mind doing the dissection stuff. She was a city girl, and anything to do with animals kind of freaked her out. On the other hand, she understood all the scientific concepts they were throwing at us pretty fast, and could explain them to me in a little more detail. Plus, she was a nice person, and she had some pretty interesting viewpoints. Like, 'how come we choose from just two people for President and fifty for Miss America?'"