I live in a town in the south of Sweden. It's basically a rural area with large woods and small farms although the town itself is prosperous with modern industry. Most of the farms are nowadays far too small to give a living. The woods are valuable though. Almost everyone seems to have a connection to a farm. It's very common to live on the farm and work in town. I do as well.
I am a journalist at the local paper. I like the way such a paper has to be run with a lot of local news. I have no ambition to make the big scoop. What I really like to write about is the oddities in our society. My work takes me to many places and I meet a lot of interesting people with a deep knowledge in areas beside the mainstream. Many are lovely women.
I am very content with my life. I married a local girl and we were married for about ten years before she left me. She said she couldn't stand my odd hours and that I always seemed to be out somewhere. She also wasn't pleased with my lack of career ambition. Maybe she had hoped that we would move to a bigger town, perhaps even our capital, Stockholm. She is now married and live on a small farm with two kids. We never got any. Her husband works regular hours and comes home at four-thirty sharp every day.
I have a number of relatives in the area. Not long ago I visited my old aunt. She lives in the countryside still alone in a cottage although she is near eighty. Her mind is sharp and she keeps track of what goes on in her very small village. She has given me quite a few ideas to good stories about the local life so I like to go and see her.
This time she told me about a couple living very isolated and primitive on a very small farm or rather a crofter's building. There was no real road to the place only a path. They had to walk or ride the bicycle a couple of kilometers to reach the nearest road. There was no electricity and no phone. They seemed to live on vegetables, home-grown and of course ecological. She told me that they had a very good reputation as gardeners and people often came to their place on Sundays to admire their garden and buy vegetables and flowers. They also were pottery artists and painters and sold their work to visitors and on market fares.
It seemed to be an interesting living so very different from modern life. No electricity and no regular income. It could be a good article of the kind I and the paper like. I made some notes about it and also got the name and address from my aunt.
I put the notes in my file of possible articles. I picked it up again in the summer when everything slows down and decided to pay them a visit. I wanted to do it as soon as possible now when I had some spare time. When I looked at my notes I realized that I couldn't contact them in advance. I could of course write them a letter but that could take a week or two before I got an answer. Who knows how often they collected their mail from the nearest village? And then they had to go back again to mail it. No, I had to pay them a surprise visit. It was rather common anyway in the countryside that you just popped in. My aunt had given me enough information to find the place on the map and the path was clearly marked.
I set off. I brought a cake which also is a common thing to do if you come unexpected but also coffee. I had no idea about their habits and if they could afford to buy coffee. There was a small lay-by where the path started and there also was a home-made sign giving the name of the farm and that it was open every Sunday between noon and three o'clock. It became my first mental note that they were enough business-minded to make it easy for people to find their place.
It was a twenty minutes walk through the wood to the place. A pleasant walk although the weather was hot. The sun was filtered through the trees.
I came out on the clearing about fifty meters from the cottage. I saw a woman moving beyond it and stopped dead in my tracks. She was naked as the day she was born and from this distance looked very nice to say the least. She saw me and waved. Without haste she went to a cloth line and took a shirt from it and then slowly disappeared behind the house. Moments later she came forward on the other side now dressed in the shirt, waved again and stood waiting for me to come forward.
I introduced myself and explained that I had come to do research for a possible article in the paper. She lit up and said that she would be most happy to show me around and tell about their life. Her name was Amanda which I knew of course.
"It's a pity though. My man is in hospital, he broke his leg badly four or five days ago. But of course I can show his works as well."
She had a clear business mind. She quickly negotiated the right to read the article in advance and make the corrections she wanted and also to have a say about the photos that no doubt should be taken and put in the paper together with the article. I guess I was a bad negotiator but I had no intention to write something bad about them. But the main reason was that I had difficulties to keep my eyes on her face. The shirt she had put on was a man's shirt. Although it was too big for her it reached only to her upper thighs and only a few buttons were done. She showed a lot of the slopes of her ample breasts and there was a deep cleavage. I also wondered if she had put any panties on. She hadn't taken any from the cloth line, I was quite sure about that.
"I brought coffee and a cake," I said when the negotiation was done and opened my rucksack. "Maybe we can have it while you tell me about your life?"
Her face lit up again. She had a very interesting face; square, with high cheek bones, broad jaws, a straight nose and a very generous mouth. Her eyes were blue and bright. She wasn't pretty in the ordinary sense but her face had much character.
"What an excellent idea. How nice of you to bring it. We seldom drink coffee and never buy a cake. We can't afford it. But perhaps you also want a glass of my home made fruit-syrup?"
She went into the house to get cups and the syrup. I got a good look at her and my first impression seemed to be accurate. She was of middle height with a curvy body with a full round ass and narrow waist. That she had an ample bosom on top of that I had already seen. She seemed to be unaffected of her light clothing and moved very naturally although her ass rolled nicely.
We had a nice time drinking coffee while she told me about herself and her man.
"We are not married so I don't call him my husband but my man."
She told that he was older than herself which I already knew. I had made some research before I left. He was well over fifty and she was thirty-three but she looked younger. I would have guessed late twenties. The life they lived seemed to be good for her. They had no children.
"Like myself then," I said.
"Well, I can't have any it seems. But we try hard every day."
After an hour or so she stretched on her chair.
"I want to take a bathe. I always do in the middle of the day when it's warm. In fact, I was on my way when you arrived. Come along, you need to cool off too. We can talk there."
She rose and walked away. She hadn't really asked, just assumed that I would follow. She knew that I hadn't brought any trunks, she had helped me to unpack my rucksack.
