Dear Readers, finally here's my twentieth story in a twenty year span on Literotica. Thanks to all of you that have read or commented on them, along with your words of encouragement.
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We had had a busy day, all told. I'd found Katie Ann a harrow over in the next county at the start of summer. I'd replaced a gang of bent discs on it today and adjusted the hitch to work with her tractor better. Next year, working the garden would be a lot easier.
She'd worked in the loft, pulling hay bales over to one side so we could begin reflooring a section that was soft from an old roof leak. Together we put the new boards to be used up above, passing up all thirty of them one by one.
It had been smart to wait until lumber prices fell. My business had tailed off, what with the virus and now real estate plummeting. People were still getting married, but Kate's wedding planning business had taken a hit too. In the mountains, things normally ran at a slower pace, but ominous clouds always seemed to be on the horizon now.
On the other hand, her farm was the better for it and I enjoyed coming over and doing simple things that actually mattered. The sun still shone, like it did today, dappled light on Kate's hair, smudge on her cheek, sweat on her brow. It was easy to imagine her as a frontier woman, toting firewood, a shawl over her shoulder, cabin in the background. There'd be venison for dinner, straw ticking for a mattress for when night fell, lovemaking as the cicadas sang...
"Bunkie, hey. Did you hear me? I said do you want leftovers or we'll clean up, go into town for dinner. I need to know what you feel like." Modern Day Frontier Woman was speaking, knowing I was daydreaming, as is my wont.
I pulled off my mule skinners and tucked a stray lock behind her ear. We were beginning to act like old marrieds. It takes time to get all the hints and signals down, years mostly. It helped that we'd known each other a long time, lunched together, laughed together before the hidden parts of our souls came out to play.
"Stay in, maybe?" I asked, "As long as it's just something simple to warm up?"
"We'll dig around in the freezer when we go in. Just remember, I've got a peach cobbler for dessert, Okay?"
That was a relief. Kate had gotten a battery operated car, (read small) and I'd come over in the Jeep which now was not a good match for my achy back. I latched the barn door and put my arm over her shoulders. She snuggled in and for a few moments we watched the breeze blowing the laurels and the weeds along the fence. Shadows from cloud frigates ascended the mountains, bluish in the distance and a neighbor's dog barked.
She looked up at me, her brown eyes calm and peaceful. "What were you thinking about inside the barn?"
"You. I dunno, the you of maybe two hundred years ago, a settler clearing the woods. You had a smudge on your face like you do right now."
"I do? Well. It gives me character, I say." In a softer voice, "I think you looked very studly working on the plow thing and handing up the lumber. It's nice to have a big man around to do things, especially you."
She patted my arm, watching me grin. "C'mon, let's dig in the freezer."
****
We were at the stage where we had stayover clothes at each other's houses, toiletries and necessities for most occasions. I was shaving in the upstairs shower, letting the water beat on my back and smelling pasta wafting up from the kitchen.
There is something so settling, so comforting existing in spare moments like that. You know you'll always want to treasure them and to draw on them in trying times or even in mundane moments.
She yoo hood up the stairs, breaking my reverie, me still half shaved.
Leftover lasagna is better than firstover lasagna sometimes. It depends on how starveling you are as to how much better the food tastes.
Katie Ann still took bubble baths and liked to soak. She liked to be read to, just a chapter or so. Tonight it was Byron instead of Bronte, something in keeping with a claw foot tub, tiled floor with the windows propped open with dowels. Millars and moths banged against the screens, attracted by the candles near the stool I sat on.
An arm would emerge out of the foam from time to time, loofah in hand. Her eyes were dark in the dim light by the tub, the mass of her auburn hair pinned up, shoulders sometimes bared, but never more.
It's not that I hadn't seen her nude, but not here. She had called me in after arranging herself in the suds, not before. I liked the fact that she had modesty. I had learned that getting every stitch off of her required ambition and lots of passion.
"You quit reading sir. Can't pronounce a word, huh?"
"Dead to rights, girl. I was just thinking..."
"No, you were off in Bunkie-Bunk land. But they know you there. But do tell!"
``Well, the fact of the matter is, er, ahem, that I've never seen you in less than dishabille in daylight."
"Was that in the book, or are you really talking like that?" She frowned, concentrating. "What was that dish word again?"
"I was caught up in the book, sorry. But I meant I've never seen you starkers, I mean nude in the daylight."
"Starkers? STARKERS? My God, you're a SCREAM." Katie whooped, laughing so hard that the water slapped in the tub. She gasped out, "Off to Windsor with you, my dear man. (Pointing to the door) Let this auld dowager emerge and attend to her toilette!" She whooped again. "So starkers is it?"
Sometimes I don't know why I say or do the things I do. I did know we were going to have to find American literature for the main floor bath.
****
We'd ended up in the den, on the couch across from the old upright piano standing by the window. An evening breeze had picked up, swaying the curtains and letting the pulls bang against the sash. I'd just put on a light robe and was musing over the day's events when Katie came in carrying a pillow to prop up with. "Do you want dessert now or after while? I'd need to warm it a little."
