Starting From Scratch

Chapter 2- River Holiday

Over the next several weeks Thomas learned what the real definition of work was. From milking cows to gathering eggs to mucking out stables and feeding the pigs. Thomas learned how to drive a tractor, till the earth, and plant a garden with corn, long beans, short beans, eggplant, squash, tomatoes, and watermelon. And that was just to name a few. There was always something that needed to be done six days ago.

Horses needed to be fed. Horses needed to be exercised. Fences needed mending. Cows needed to be milked. Cows needed to be chased down after breaking out of the pasture. Carl and Wit came over to cut hay, and Darla, Stacy, and Gretchen helped harvest vegetables. Through it all, Thomas took solace from those first bone-grinding days in Margaret's wonderful bathing room. The hot water pulled the aches and pains from his body and left him little more than floppy jello that fell into his bed and slept the night away.

Over the ensuing weeks, Margaret worked side by side with Thomas. She always rose in the morning early, Thomas heard her softly pad down the hallway to the bathroom, and he heard the old pipes groan as she started a shower. Thomas was so trained in listening and feeling the movements of his wife during the night and waking up with her in the morning. So as soon as he heard Margaret's bed squeak and her feet hit the wood floors in the morning he was awake. He didn't get up though, he learned from getting up and opening the door to leave his room and running into a very naked Margaret. Her hair was in a braid though it looked wild and frayed. Sleepily batting her eyes, she looked down at her breasts and realized she was nude.

She looked down at his boxer briefs and admired his body and then back up to Thomas's eyes that were ogling her small perky breasts. Her ivory skin. The pale pink hue of her half-dollar-sized areolas and her erect nipples. Her belly wasn't weight training flat, rather it was healthy and femininely curvy, girlish even. Further down Thomas admired Margaret's broad hips and amazingly enough, she was completely denuded of all pubic hair. Her pubic mound was completely smooth, as soft and supple as if she never had pubes. Her thighs were thick, her muscles well defined making her legs look like they were sculpted from pale ivory.

"Oops," She chuckled in an easygoing, completely unembarrassed manner, "Sorry, I forgot I have a roommate now. I sleep in the nude, and I tend to walk about the house naked as well."

"I'm sorry," Thomas replied with a blush as he tried to meet her humorously flashing golden brown eyes. He struggled with himself, it was hard not to ogle the rest of her. Especially her beautiful, girlishly smooth, camel-toe pussy.

"Don't worry," She purred, almost seductively, "I'm not embarrassed. Now that I think about it, it was bound to happen. However, from now on, be warned; walk about the house at night at your own risk. I've never slept in anything and I've always walked about my own house nude and I'm not about to change now."

Thomas nodded before saying, "I will just stay in my room until you have done your morning routine and await your knock when you head back to your room to get dressed."

Margaret just stood there looking him up and down, completely comfortable standing there naked, giving him a considering look, all with a knowing smirk curling the corners of her mouth up prettily. Finally, seeing something in him that she was looking for, she replied, "Fine. I will knock on your door in the morning when it is safe to come out."

"Thank you," Thomas said with a nod that fortunately brought his eyes back to Margaret's baby smooth pussy lips. Was that lubrication glinting in the morning light as it coursed down Margaret's flawless ivory, silky smooth, inner thighs?

"Your welcome, Thomas," Margaret purred, this time there was no denying the sensuality in the timbre of her voice. Suddenly looking past him, Margaret stepped past and continued down the hallway as she called back over her shoulder, "Oh, and, good morning, Thomas."

Thomas' mouth fell open dumbly and he couldn't help but stare in hypnotic amazement as Margaret's hips swayed and her thick bountiful ass cheeks flexed and bounced as she walked. No wonder she slew a pair of jeans. Oh God, her ass was even more beautiful than he had imagined it would be. He found himself longing to see her in a tiny little thong or g-string bathing suit on Florida's white sand beaches. Even at her age, she would be spectacular.

Margaret rounded the corner and headed into the bathroom, but not before casting a single glance back over her shoulders catching Thomas ogling her bottom and watching her body as she walked. Her eyes were sharp, but her mouth was turned up in a knowing smile. Seeing that he was caught, Thomas quickly stepped back into his room and shut the door. Heaven forbid he was staring at and feeling his lust rise for a woman twice his age and not his wife. Heather might be a cheater, but he wasn't!

The days turned into weeks and living with and working for Margaret was an absolute joy. She treated him like a little brother, except at times he got the distinct impression that she was a lot more fond of him than would be considered brotherly. The weeks turned into months and the blistering summer heat finally arrived in mid-August.

Margaret got up first, as always, padded down to the bathroom naked, relieved herself, took a shower, and then knocked on Thomas's door as she passed his room on her way to get dressed for the day. Thomas, already up, left his room and went to relieve himself, take a shower, and then returned to his room to dress for the day.

When Thomas opened the door Margaret was standing there smiling at him. Her hair was pulled back in the usual platinum braid, but she was dressed in her usual Wrangler button-down shirt or durable denim jeans and boots. No, instead, she was dressed in a small tank-top with no bra underneath, which showed off the curves of her breasts, her pale-pink areolas, and her twin pink nipples very nicely. The tank was short baring her midriff and below she wore the smallest, tightest Daisy Dukes he had ever seen. To finish it off, she wore cowboy boots.

"Go milk Betty for me and bring in the eggs," Margaret said in a mischievous purr, "and then come in for breakfast. After that, it's going to be a hundred and twelve today. I never work when it's this damn hot! After breakfast, we are going to the river."

"Yes ma'am," Thomas answered with a grin.

He had been needing a day off for weeks now. He enjoyed the work, and he enjoyed being around Margaret, but the reality was he was a Florida boy. Every weekend he was on the beach, either with Heather or without. He liked his weekend time on the beach, and since moving in with Margaret the weekends had disappeared. The farm just seemed to eat up every hour of the day every day of the week. This holiday to the river was much appreciated.

There was no milking the cow hastily. It took as long as it took. Afterward, he carried the buckets of milk to Margaret. She had already set out old glass milk jars. As soon as he brought the milk to her she started pouring it into the jars that were then stored in the refrigerator on the front porch. Margaret had a nice little business supplying her neighbors with milk, eggs, and vegetables. It all went in the small refrigerator and then her neighbors would drive up and take what they needed. The money was handled differently. Her customers had already paid her, kind of like some sort of club membership and then all she did was fill their orders.

The eggs went into egg trays minus what she planned to use for breakfast. Thomas moved about the kitchen helping cook the bacon while Margaret focused on the eggs and hash browns. Soon they were sitting down at the breakfast table and eating.

"The forecast says the next few days will be well over a hundred degrees," Margaret said between chewing her bacon and taking another bite of eggs. She shook her head and chewed her food before she continued, "As long as it is this hot we are going on holiday. There's no use in one of us stroking out from the heat. Besides, with all your hard work these past weeks, I've really gotten ahead on the summer punch list."

"Thank you," Thomas replied earnestly, "I'm glad that I haven't been a complete hindrance, though, truth be told, I thought I was going to die from sheer exhaustion that first week."

Margaret chuckled as she chewed and swallowed her food, "Honestly, I worried for you too, but you took on the work, you lowered your head, and you plowed right on through. I'm proud of you. I knew I made a good choice when I decided to bring you home."

Thomas noticed that she didn't say that she had made a good choice in hiring him, and he wondered about that for the rest of the meal. Margaret giggled as she finished her plate of food and stood up and took Thomas's plate. Usually, she would immediately wash them and place them in the wrack to dry, instead, she tossed them into the sink and then grabbed a picnic basket before taking Thomas's hand and pulling him out of his chair along to the back porch. He put his boots back on while Margaret walked to the barn and pulled the old pickup truck out. He hopped in on the passenger side and looked back to see the picnic basket safely stowed in the bed of the truck. Margaret put the truck in drive and already at nine o'clock in the morning hot air turned into a stifling breeze as Margaret drove.

It took twenty minutes of navigating old dirt roads before Margaret turned off onto a small path almost invisible from the road and disappeared into the wood surrounding the Shields River. The path came to a roundabout through the trees and Margaret pulled to a stop about fifty feet from the river bank.

The dryness of the air made it so that even though it was a hundred and twelve in the sun, beneath the boughs of the trees it was maybe ninety-eight. Thomas still found himself sweating profusely in his button-down shirt, jeans, and boots. Margaret was smiling and enjoying herself and looking cool as a cucumber in her tank-top and Daisy Dukes. He carried the picnic basket while Margaret led the way to the river.

The Shields River was slow in this patch where Margaret had stopped. It was broad and deep enough to swim in with large rock outcroppings where one could lay out in the sun and dry off or tan. Margaret picked out a large flat rock for the both of them to share and took the picnic basket and pulled out a large quilt to spread over the rock. Then, she sat down and started pulling off her boots. Thomas pulled off his boots and then his shirt before he looked inside the picnic basket.

"There aren't any bathing suits," He gasped in alarm.

"No dear," Margaret purred through a mischievous smile, "This is Montana. When we go to the river it is to skinny-dip!"

Thomas's breath caught as Margaret pulled her tank-top off exposing her breasts and stood and pushed her Daisy Dukes over her hips and ass to fall to the ground before running over and jumping into the river. Thomas knew he was never going to forget the sight of Margaret's pert breasts jiggling or the bounces of her bountiful ass. Margaret may be forty-eight years old but she laughed and played and worked like a twenty-four-year-old. He hoped desperately he was as youthful as she was once he reached her age.

"Come on studly," Margaret called from the water. It was shallow enough that, while she was standing up in the water, it only reached her upper thighs. Her breasts were heaving. Water was running down her body, curving around the contours of her belly and hips, and then trickling down her soft, smooth, ivory pussy-lips before tinkling back into the river. She scooped up a large handful of water and threw it in his direction as she cried out, "Come on! You've seen me naked plenty. Don't be stingy. Show a girl what ya got!"

'Girl!' Thomas thought in shocked amusement as he struggled to take off his clothes without falling into the river, 'This girl was not a girl, she was a full, ripe, beautiful woman. And she knew it!'

Thomas shucked his jeans and his socks, and then he stood there and watched Margaret ogle his fully naked form. He stood proudly at his full five feet eleven inches and cursed his grandfather that was the reason he hadn't grown to reach six feet at least. His shoulders were broad. He didn't work out but he wasn't out of shape either. Weeks of working on the farm had cut his abdominals into a six-pack, and his shoulders, biceps, and triceps were bulging and strong. He was a true blonde though his hair was strawberry blonde. He had long curly hair on his arms and chest, but being blonde it only seemed to give him a golden glow as he stood in the sunlight. Below his belt-line, like Margaret, he had long ago removed all of his pubes leaving his swollen and aroused dick to stick out in front of him like a single enormous oak tree. All, eight inches of him, swollen and rigid, cut with ridges and knotty veins that looked like vines wrapping around the tremendous oak. Finally, the peak, the tip, the head of his mighty oak tree was capped by a large, purple, flaring, bell-shaped, mushroom head, and beneath his dick was his pink, hairless, scrotum with two large ovoid testes swollen from weeks upon weeks of celibacy since Heather's betrayal.

Margaret gasped at the sight of him. Her big golden-brown eyes were transfixed on his manhood and followed the sway of his dick and balls. Knowing the water was ice cold, Thomas braced himself, and then he leaped in.

He knew Margaret was impressed, and he had a good feeling that she was very very randy. All he needed to do was make a move and more than likely she would fall into his arms, and shortly after, he would fall into her secret garden and plant her full of his seed. However, what if that was not the case? What if she was offended? What if she decided he was a threat and needed to go? So, as he came up from the water he splashed her right in the face.

She gasped, and then she spit and sputtered as she started splashing back. The water fight lasted for hours. They played and wrestled. Thomas grabbed Margaret around the waist and tried to dunk her under the water while she grabbed onto him and wrestled for leverage to do the same to him. They wrestled and her breasts smashed and slid across his skin while his dick whacked her thighs, belly, or pussy-lips. They wrestled and Thomas had to admit, Margaret was in damn fine shape. There wasn't much fat on her that wasn't covering thick rippling muscles, and she was strong. Very strong. They flopped about and fell into the water only to come up and play and slash and wrestle some more. Finally, they both grew tired, the both of them heaving for breath, the both of them shivering from the cold of the water.

Margaret laughed as she stepped back and held her hands out in a timeout sign, "Wait. Hold on a second stud. Let's go eat some lunch and layout and warm up for a bit."

The offer of a temporary truce seemed good to Thomas, so he followed her up onto the rock where they had left the picnic basket and their clothes. Margaret didn't move to put her clothes on, so neither did Thomas. He was waiting for her to make the first move. She was his employer. She was the owner of the house he was staying at. And she was older than him. He would not be presumptuous and infer interest on her part unless she made it very clearly evident. For all he knew, this was how it was in the backcountry of Montana, anyone and everyone going skinny-dipping and wrestling around without any thought of anything more relationship-wise.

Margaret pulled out a pitcher of lemonade, and two preserve jars for glasses, and then she pulled out two huge turkey sandwiches stacked with bacon, lettuce, and tomato. It looked incredible! They both set to eating like they hadn't seen food in days. After the meal, Margaret put everything up and moved the picnic basket up to the top of the slightly slanting rock well out of the way, and then she moved in closer to Thomas, nearly imperceptibly so, and laid out on the quilt face up so that Thomas watched her breasts rise and fall with her breathing. She settled herself with her legs spread apart so that her ivory pubic mound and smoothly glistening pussy were very visible, and then she closed her eyes. Thomas watched her for a minute and then he moved in closer to Margaret and laid down beside her. Shoulder to shoulder. The back of his right hand caressed the back of her left hand. He was no longer hard. The cold river water had seen to that, but as he laid down his dick flopped over onto his hairless pubic bone and lower abdomen, and began to grow and harden.

Minutes passed, and they slowly began to warm up. Their skin fully dried, and then Thomas felt the back of Margaret's hand move. Not twitching. Caressing. It was a complete surprise after the silence to hear her ask, "So, you removed your pubic hair, why? And, how long have you been like that?"

"Uh," Thomas replied, "Well, I guess I started shaving shortly after pubic hair started growing. I never really liked it. Not on the girls I've dated, and not on me. It always felt messy, dirty, and unclean. Plus, I didn't like how it felt or smelled when I sweat. So, I shaved it off. I liked it that way so I finally went and had it permanently removed."

There was a lingering silence after Thomas finished, so he said, "I noticed that you had your pubes removed too. I never would have thought I'd meet a woman like that in Montana. Why did you remove yours and for how long?"

Margaret chuckled and Thomas could feel her shaking her head as she began, "Honestly, I started shaving when I was twelve for much the same reason you did. It felt icky. Also, it was almost the same platinum blonde as my hair, but the amount was so thick and long that it made me feel unattractive. So, I had it removed completely from my pubic mound to my ass. I'll tell ya, that was not fun, but I been loving being smooth as a baby's bottom for thirty years."

"I still can't believe you're a Montana woman," Thomas replied as he turned to look at her, "I would have thought all Montana women would be going au natural as much as possible."

Margaret laughed at that and turned to squint as her golden-brown eyes met his stormy greens, "I never said I was a born and raised Montana girl. Hell, I'm from South Carolina. George and I, we moved out here fifteen years ago and I've been here ever since."

"Where's George? Thomas asked, curious why Margaret was all alone.

"Dead," Margaret replied.

"I'm sorry," Thomas said, regretting having asked.

Margaret chuckled and used her reassurance of him as a chance to take Thomas's hand and squeeze as she said, "Don't be hun. He died a good and faithful husband. I couldn't have gotten better. But I can see the question on your face so I will tell ya, he died seven years ago of colon cancer. I have been alone since. Not that it's lonely. I have a ton of work to do all the time. The farm needs my constant attention."

Thomas was moving before his brain thought about what he was doing. Their faces were inches from each other. Yes, Margaret was much older than him, but she was beautiful. Her eyes were big golden brown pools, her skin was pale flawless ivory, and her lips were pink and lush. Turning on his side, Thomas twisted his hand in Margaret's and interlaced his fingers through hers as he rolled on top of her and kissed her!

Their lips met, both of them partly open, and Margaret sighed, "It's about time!" into his mouth as he took her other hand and laced his fingers through hers. She spread her thighs and pulled her heels up, opening herself as Thomas moved up and pressed his big, swollen dickhead against her already wet pussy-lips. His dick pushed in and her large fat outer labia spread apart revealing dainty pink petals of inner labia beneath. Her pussy glistened with the moisture of her lubrication, and with a rotation of her hips, thrusting her smooth pubic mound upward into Thomas, his dick slid down and penetrated deep inside her garden!