Lending A Hand 3

I had left the curtains open and I woke easily with the first hint of sun through the window. My body was sore, not achy, but tender in the nice way that reminds you that your time the day before was spent well. In my case that was lugging conduit and doing whatever else they told me to do at the job site. None of which I really minded.

The small bedroom at the back of the house felt less and less like mine everyday, and today was no exception. Not because I wasn't welcome or didn't like the place, just that I was ready to move on. My older brothers were all grown and moved out, leaving just me with my mom and pop. Even though it was a Saturday and sleeping in after a long week of work would have been alright, I wanted to get out before my mom was up, otherwise she would feel like she needed to feed me or make a fuss in some way. She had raised four boys and we were all men now though, so there was no need for any of that.

Besides, I was awake and with the heat and the light I wasn't able to sleep much longer even if I wanted to. The shop had offered me a couple of early shifts last week on top of the regular work I had, and more and more I was used to being up and out before the sun wasn't much more than an orange line low in the sky. No point in spoiling what was becoming a good routine by getting a little lazy.

I pulled on a pair of weekend jeans, broken in work boots, and an old tee shirt and snuck my way down the hall into the kitchen. After a glass of water I stepped outside and walked down the dirt drive to my truck. I'd be lying if I said I had a destination. I didn't. Certainly not this early in the morning, but I needed to move and that's just what I did. There's something special about that time, when it feels like the day hasn't made up its mind about what it wants to be yet and anything is possible.

The truck came to life easily and I pulled onto the county road and started driving, enjoying the morning for all it could be.

I was still a ways away from Mrs. Hollinger when I spotted her along the side of the road and out near the edge of her property. It wasn't much more than an overgrown cornfield that badly needed tending to. She was pulling a red wagon that was loaded with hay, what looked like some bundles of clothing, and some tools that hadn't seen proper work in quite a while. But it wasn't the wagon that grabbed my attention. Mrs. Hollinger was a hard woman to miss. She was tall, broad shouldered, and sturdy. Even from a distance her full chest could guide you straight to her as well as any landmark. But her ass was likely to lead you astray, rather than get you home. I'll admit that seeing her out in the fields was always a treat for me for as far back as I can remember.

As I got closer I slowed down my truck and pulled over to the shoulder of the county road, stepping half out and waving when I came to a stop.

"Morning, ma'am. Do you need a hand with anything today?" I offered, if for no other reason than my dad would be mad if he knew I drove past without trying to make myself helpful to some older folk. But truthfully I wanted to help, I liked feeling useful and I had no other work to do today.

Mrs. Hollinger had been watching me since I started to pull the truck over, but despite the shade from her wide sun hat hiding her eyes I could tell that she was looking me up and down. "Morning." She paused and took another measure of me and then spoke up again, her voice carrying easily in the predawn light. "You're one of those Thompson boys, right?" Her pale hair was pulled into a long, thick braid that ran down her back. It was a soft gray and it didn't take much imagination to picture the blonde of her youth.

I smiled. "That's right, ma'am. I'm Luke. The youngest one."

"That's what I thought. You look like your dad, now that you're grown. How are your parents doing? I ain't seen them in a minute," she dropped the handle to the wagon and rested her hand on the top of the fence. From inside her light denim shirt her massive tits wobbled and I couldn't help but follow their movement, if only for a moment. I'm pretty sure that after a lifetime of having men look at her tits she was pretty smart to it and I had no chance of going unseen. I acted as if I was squinting my eyes from the sun, an amateur tactic that she must have seen right through. The shirt she was wearing was old and faded, even more so in her chest where the blue denim was all but colorless from the constant pressure of her tits pushing against it.

"They're doing fine. My pop...," I began, but she cut me off before I could finish.

"Now, come a little closer if you're going to be talking to me. I'm not going to hurt you. Besides, what's an old lady going to do to a young man like yourself, Luke." I smiled when she said my name, like we were old friends or something. I remember speaking to her once when I was little. We were at the grange for some kind of fair or something and she was asking me to pick some numbers for one of the games of chance that she was playing. Other than that I had been around Mrs. Hollinger, but never actually spoke to her in any sort of meaningful way.

I got fully out of the truck and walked closer to her, whatever I had planned to say about my pop was long gone from my head. "I was just driving by and saw you with that wagon, I thought that maybe I could help you with something. If you need help, that is." I knew that she could take care of herself but that didn't mean that I couldn't help lighten her load. My pop had mentioned more than once that Mrs. Hollinger was a good woman and, ever since Mr. Hollinger passed, knew how to put a young man to proper use.

"Well, that is very kind of you Luke. A lonely woman like myself always appreciates a man around the farm. I don't want to make you late for anything though," when she spoke her attention to me never faltered and I felt like I was under a spotlight. She had shifted a bit and I could see her eyes now, light colored and looking deeply into me.

"Honestly, I was just going for a drive and I'm used to working early in the morning. I don't have anywhere to be, I'm happy to help you out with whatever you need." That was the truth, for a variety of reasons. Again my eyes wandered, this time seeking out Mrs. Hollinger's meaty thighs nestled inside her patched pants. Not an ounce of this woman was wasted on anything frivolous, I decided. Every bit of her felt like a woman properly assembled for any kind of work that she would want to do. I thought of the girls that I had graduated with two summers ago; flighty, distracted, unsure of who they are or what they wanted. It was tough to imagine that Mrs. Hollinger was ever that way. She was, for sure, a product of a different time.

"Up this early and you're not headed to work?" she questioned.

"No ma'am. No work for me today, I'm just an early riser." It was true in more ways than one.

"Where are you working? I hear that the new warehouse outside of town is paying alright and even offering up a cash bonus for signing on." Seemed like a lot of folk were talking about that place so I wasn't surprised that Mrs. Hollinger had brought it up.

"No ma'am, That warehouse isn't for me. My buddy Tom Murphy, his family is out by 209, said that they got robots controlling the place and you can't even take a piss, pardon my language, without running it by someone else first. Can you imagine that? No ma'am, I've been apprenticing with the electricians for the last six months. Hoping to get my card before too long and then I'll see what happens after that," I explained. A friend's older brother had opened the door for me and I jumped at the chance when it was there. The work was tough but I was learning a lot.

"Good for you," Mrs. Hollinger lit up a bit, a warmth coming to her voice that hadn't been there just a moment ago. "My Paul was a union man and they always did right by him. Twenty five years he's been gone and I'm still collecting the little pension that he was able to put together. I do appreciate that. You think some big company is going to look after your family like that?"

"No ma'am, I'm certain that they wouldn't."

"And I still get a Christmas card every year from the union. At this point the folks over there don't know me from Eve but they still send it and, I gotta say, it makes me happy that they do." She smiled, probably more at the memories that she was thinking of, but I was delighted to be on the other end of it and I gave her one in return.

"Well, I plan on doing right by the electricians and I hope they return the favor. Right now the pay ain't all that good, I'm living with my folks still to save some money, and the work is hard but I'm thinking it'll work out for me before long." Again my eyes sought out her chest, an unconscious attraction that I was powerless against. I stared too long at the opening between two shirt buttons and could see the dull colored fabric of what must have been an industrial strength bra. And again I tried to cover up with a squint, putting my hand up to shade my eyes from the morning sun.

Mrs. Hollinger let out a small, knowing chuckle. "You should have worn a hat this morning, Luke. Looks like you're having a hard time with the sun," she smirked and turned around, finally giving me a break from her tits but now tempting me with a proper view of her backside. Like two perfectly ripe melons, her stout cheeks stuffed her pants and pushed the fabric in all directions. I watched as she took several steps away from me, the flesh was solid and barely moved. There was something about its obvious firmness that conjured a charge through my balls and I sent my hand quickly down to readjust myself.

Without looking back she pointed to a wheelbarrow that lay turned over. "Grab that and walk behind me if you don't mind, there's some debris that's gathered along the road." Both cleaning up and walking behind Mrs. Hollinger sounded like good ideas to me and I flipped the wheelbarrow over and started at the task. I divided my focus between picking up some sticks and the occasional piece of garbage along the road, and watching the widow's ass.

She continued to pull the wagon slowly while I worked behind her. The two of us made some small chatter and I found that she was easy to talk to. Not one of those older people that wanted to know what it was like to be young these days and probe me with questions, but instead she talked to me like any other person and I appreciated that. I wasn't ready to stop being young but I had enough of that with my friends and from the older guys at work giving me a hard time on account of me only being nineteen. Mrs. Hollinger never even once asked how old I was.

It was still early in the morning but the summer sun was already picking up and after a bit we stopped near an old scarecrow that had seen better times. Its clothes were ragged, more so than you would even expect given its line of work, and the straw had leaked from its body and made it into a thin figure that wasn't scaring anything. A torn up hat was shredded at the base of the still sturdy post it hung from. I could see now what the clothes in the wagon that she had been pulling were for. Mrs. Hollinger pulled a small stool from the wagon and unfolded it beside her. Her large ass swallowed up the metal seat and she looked over at me and wiped her brow with her sleeve.

"I'm going to take a breather and then get to work on this one here," her arm lifted, one heavy tit shifting with the gesture, and pointed to the scarecrow. "It's been a tough summer for him and he needs a little freshening up, don't you think?"

I laughed. "I agree ma'am. With all respect, that's one of the sorriest looking scarecrows that I've ever seen. Why, I don't think that he could frighten off a mouse even if he could yell at it."

"Is that so? Think you could do better?"

I said that I was willing to try and she tossed me a shirt and pants from the wagon. They weren't new but they have been sewn up in places and I couldn't help but wonder if they had been hers at one point. If the stretch marks and fading on the shirt was from her tits trying to break free, or if the sewn up line along the crack of the pants was needed because it couldn't contain the mass of her ass. I knew I shouldn't be thinking those thoughts, but I was and that's all that there was to it.

The clothes that the decoy were wearing came off without trouble and I tossed them to the ground and reached for the replacements. I struggled a little to get the pants on but it happened and the shirt was easy enough to slide onto the pole. My plan was to button it up halfway and then start to get some more straw inside of it, but before I could go any further Mrs. Hollinger chimed in.

"Don't forget this, it's the most important part," and with that she tossed me some more fabric from the wagon. I caught it and looked over the unmistakable garment. The first thing I noticed was the thickness of the shoulder straps of the faded bra. Wendy Wilson, my first real girlfriend from high school, had what was considered the biggest rack in our grade and the straps on this made hers look like a piece of twine. The straps were faded and heavy use had stolen the elasticity from them, but the width spoke to the duty that they were asked to do. I guessed it must have been two inches across for each of them.

"Oh...," I wanted to say something but I had no idea what.

She pointed to the scarecrow again. "This guy didn't do such a good job, so I figured we should see what a woman can do out here," Mrs. Hollinger was all smiles when she spoke. I think that she must have liked seeing the way that I was squirming now that the bra was in my hand. "Go on, put it on there. You know what you're doing with that thing?"

"Um..yes, ma'am," I stuttered. "I've, eh, seen them before." But never like this. A deeper examination of the bra was what I wanted but that seemed unlikely given the circumstances of Mrs. Hollinger being no more than a couple of feet from me.

"That's good." She leaned back and waited for me to work. I could feel her eyes digging into my back and waiting to see how I would approach my task.

I put the bra through the opening in the shirt and reached to the back to try and hook it closed. I heard Mrs. Hollinger chuckle a little as my hands, still shaking a bit, fumbled at the chore. I looked around and saw that it had four hooks that all needed to come together. Wendy's only had one and I didn't even know that more than that was an option. My fingers brushed against the tag and I couldn't resist a peek at it, I thought that was only fair after all. Considering what was being asked of me it made sense that I would need to look deeper at the bra to understand it. The tag, however, was also faded to the point of being illegible. Whatever size it was would remain a secret. I just knew that it was big.

I felt like a real novice with how long it was taking me, but the hooks weren't very large and the sun and sweat and the audience all combined to make me more nervous than I ought to be.

"Let me help you out there, Luke. I appreciate the effort but I can't stay in this sun all day."

"Sorry ma'am. It's just that...well...," I began and she cut me off.

"That's alright. Some things the union won't teach you but I'm sure you can pick it up somewhere else." Mrs. Hollinger came up from behind and pressed against me, reaching her arms to the back of the scarecrow. I could feel the weight and presence of her tits against my back; they were warm and welcoming, the soft flesh spreading around me as she pulled in closer. Thank god I was facing the way that I was, otherwise Mrs. Hollinger would have felt my suddenly hard and throbbing cock against her thigh. I felt lightheaded and it wasn't because of the heat.

It only took her a moment to clasp the bra and somehow she even got the thick straps around the arms, which I considered to be nothing short of magic. After that she pulled her body away, but not before she ran her hand along my side for a moment, which seemed like something that she didn't need to do. But I'm glad that she did because I really liked the way that it felt.

"It's on there good. Now you can stuff that thing so everyone driving by knows that this is Mrs. Hollinger's farm. Make them as big as you'd like them to be. That thing is an old one of mine so it can hold an awful lot," she added and sat back down on the chair.

I faced away from her with my back in her direction, not wanting to let her see the rod swelling in my jeans, but I felt a little courage after what she said. Now, I was certainly nervous and no casanova, but this little bit of talk had gone straight to my dick.

"I'll try ma'am. But I'll be honest, I don't know if you brought enough straw for what I'd like to do here." As soon as the words came out of my mouth I couldn't believe that I had said them. I was flirting with Mrs. Hollinger! All I could think of is what she would tell my mom and pop the next time she ran into them at the market.

Instead, she whooped up a big laugh at what I had said and that set me at ease, knowing that I hadn't crossed a line and that maybe we were just two people having a little bit of fun with one another. "Is that so? You like them big, is that right? Well, that's a good thing to know, young man. Looks like the electricians got themselves a live one!"

I just sort of nodded, far too shy to really engage in this conversation any further. Mrs. Hollinger was being awfully nice to me, but she was older than my parents and talking like this with someone a lot older than you just wasn't something that you were supposed to do. Especially not with a lady. I did get to stuffing that scarecrow's bra though and when I was done I had used every bit of straw that she had on that wagon and there was still room in there for a little more. The worn cups of the bra started out deflated and droopy, but the more I stuffed them the more that they just kept expanding. It was impossible to not think of Mrs. Hollinger's tits inside of the old garment, knowing that they were capable of more than filling it, but stretching it out. It was a real challenge to keep my body turned and disguise the hard on that wouldn't go away.

When the scarecrow was almost done Mrs. Hollinger stood up from her stool and said that she needed to "inspect my work" and I could have sworn that her eyes went right to my cock as she circled around the scarecrow.

"Looks great," was all she had to say, even though I don't think that I had done a very good job with it. The chest and the ass on the scarecrow was tremendous but the rest of it wasn't worth much at all.

"Thanks. I think it'll be nice for the cars driving by to see," I added. I already knew that I wouldn't be able to pass it without thinking of that heavy duty bra, underneath the flannel shirt and stuffed so full. Hopefully my work was good enough to last a couple of years.

Mrs. Hollinger asked if I could continue to clear some of the perimeter debris, at least until I had filled the wheelbarrow. I agreed and she said, with a smile, that she would meet me back at her house when I was done. Off in the distance I could see the farmhouse nestled between a couple of old oaks. It was a simple ranch and set far enough back from the road to feel private.

"Thanks Luke, I really do appreciate your help. And make sure you come back to the house, I don't want you thinking that this was just a waste of your time."

"Yes ma'am. I'm happy to help you out, I really am." It was the truth. I liked being up early and using my body, stretching your muscles early for a purpose always made the rest of the day seem like it had some meaning.

Mrs. Hollinger pulled the little wagon behind her and disappeared into the cornfield, walking a little path that winded through the stalks and took her back to the house.