Return to the Farm

Thank you for reading my short story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England.

All email comments good or critical welcomed. Please note that all email comments from an invalid email address will be deleted immediately and will not be read, so please take care when entering your email if you want a reply. Rude or abusive comments may result in blocking. Please note that I am a British female, and I write in British English and vernacular, so for me a fanny is the correct term for female genitalia, a pussy is a pet cat and the ass is a bum or arse.

We had a row, Mark and I, a humdinger, and it was just the latest of many. I had enough. That was it. In the morning when he went to work, I went through the flat and got all of my things, everything that was mine and piled it up by the front door. I stuffed everything into bags and cases and took it to my car, filling the boot, the back seat and the passenger seat. I sat down for a minute changing all of my passwords and pin numbers on all of my accounts and bank cards. I took the flat keys off my key ring and put them on the kitchen work surface, got up, pulled the front door shut behind me and left.

I sat in the car for a moment and took a deep breath. There was only one place to go now, back to the farm. I started the car and headed off, through Shipley, past Bingley, skirting Keighley and then another thirty minutes and I was on the small single-track road that ended at the farm, and pulled in.

"Kate," Dad said coming across as I got out of the car.

"Dad," I hugged him, "can I stay for a while?"

"Of course you can. I have to go and see to the cows, I'll catch up with you later, you know where everything is. You'll have to make your bed."

"Thanks Dad," I said and headed into the farmhouse.

It isn't a big farmhouse, two rooms and a bathroom upstairs, and a large kitchen and a sitting room come lounge downstairs. There was an outside loo downstairs near the main door, saves you coming into the house when you were busy working and needed to go; a number of small outhouses used for various things, one housing the diesel generator used in emergencies. To one side were the various barns, cowsheds, pig pens, milking sheds and the like. It wasn't a big farm, a few hundred acres, but Dad owned it, well, half of it, Mum had left me her half in her will, and so I was, I suppose, technically a farmer too.

Dad had dairy cows, some pigs and a few sheep. The sheep he tended to keep just for meat and barter. He might barter a lamb or two for some services from the other local farmers. A few fields were put aside for hay, and that provided the winter fodder. The necessary combine and bailer were borrowed from the co-operative, the pecking order changed by rota each year, sometimes you got it just in time, sometimes later.

Every year Dad killed a dairy cow that was coming to the end of its useful milking life, he processed it himself and the meat went into a freezer. All he had to do was fill in the forms and send them off to say that the cow was deceased and no longer on the farm.

I went up to what was to become my room once again. I flipped back the quilt on the bed and sniffed the sheets, they didn't smell, they would do for now. Back down to the car and I started ferrying my life's belongings upstairs to my room. It took a fair few trips and I was pretty tired at the end of it. I wandered over to the milking shed where Dad was just finishing milking.

"I am putting the kettle on, fancy a tea?"

"Yes, can you bring it out here?"

"Yes Dad."

I went back and made the teas and took them out to the milking shed and passed Dad a mug.

"Do you know where my old wellies are Dad?"

"Yes, they are in the barn, I will sort them out and bring them in. You might want to clean them out before you put a foot in."

"Yeah, good call."

"What happened? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"It's okay Dad. Mark and I had a row, we were both at fault really, but it just showed me that we weren't meant to be together, so I moved out. I changed all my passwords and pin codes and stuff and that was that. It's over. Life moves on. I don't know what I am going to do."

"You can stay here of course; I could do with help around the farm. I was going to ask Joe Egan if his lad wanted to come and help, but, if you are here, then I won't have to do that."

It made sense, as I was going to be here anyway, and I am not the kind of person to sit around and do nothing, so yes, I would help around the farm. It would do me good to be honest, give me something to think about.

"Of course Dad, I will do whatever you need. You'll have to remind me of some stuff, and teach me a few others, but yeah, it'll be good."

"You can take over the cows, they take up most of my time, oh, and 363, she is the next one to go, her milk is drying up and she is too old for another calf. So, she is meat. You'll have to dig the pit, can you remember how to drive the back ho?"

When Dad culled an animal, all the non-edible bits were put in a pit, covered in lime, buried, and left. That would be my job when the time came. There used to be bags of lime at the back of the barn, I guessed they were still there, or he would have said.

"Probably Dad, I'll find out when I get in it, we'll see. Any idea when?"

"Saturday, so you need the pit ready by then. I'll cull and prep, you can help and bury."

"No problem."

"I'll put the hot water on Saturday, it can be a messy job, I only usually have hot water at the weekend, is that a problem to you?"

"No Dad, I can take a bath on a Sunday. I will use the electric shower in the week."

"Right. Tomorrow I will get you added to the insurances, you can drive the Land Rover on the roads then, useful if you need to go to Keighley to get supplies."

"Thanks Dad."

"There are potatoes in the outhouse next to the loo, can you do them for supper? Saves me doing it, I can clean the dairy then and makes sure that everything is ready for the milk lorry."

"Of course."

I took the mugs and went back into the house. In the outhouse I found the sack of potatoes and sorted out a couple of biggish ones. They went in the microwave for ten minutes and then into the Aga oven to bake. There was cheese in the fridge, we could have that with them.

The evening progressed, Dad came in and washed and we sat down to eat. We heard the milk tanker, but he didn't need us, he knew what he was doing and he always left the paperwork in the dairy. Dad doesn't have a TV, and his internet is functional, not brilliant, so there was only so much I could watch on my laptop before the buffering got on my nerves.

"I'm beat Dad, I'm going up, I'll see you in the morning."

"G'night sweetheart," he said and I went up.

I stripped in my bedroom and walked across to the bathroom. A quick wash in cold water, I would have a shower in the morning, all though I guessed as the farm work progressed, I might need to switch to an evening shower rather than morning. I used the loo, finished in the bathroom and went through to my bedroom, and got into bed pulling the cover over me. I heard Dad come up, go into his bedroom.

I realised that in the mirror on my dresser I could see out onto the landing, and I could see Dad walk across to the bathroom, he was naked, as I had been when I walked to the bathroom. This was my life now I thought as I buried myself in the quilt and tried to get to sleep, flashes of the argument with Mark juxtaposing with a naked Dad filling my mind as I tried to rationalise the day.

In the morning I woke up and for a moment was unsure where I was, and then my memory kicked in. My new life. I got up and went to the bathroom, used the loo, washed my hands and face in the cold water and headed back to my room to dress. I had cows to do. Bra, knickers, dress, my dress was an oldish knee length flowery patterned cotton dress that I can't even remember where I got it from. Probably be charity shops from now on, clothes don't tend to last long on a farm.

In the dairy my legs would get splashed with all kinds, and trousers would just need washing every single time I wore them, at least with a dress, most of the splashes would be on my skin, easily washed. I put my wellies on and headed out to the dairy. The cows were cooperative, and an hour or so after starting I was in the end game. I must make a flask of hot water before I go to bed I decided, that way I can bring some tea out with me, I was parched.

Eventually the cows were back out to pasture, the dairy cleaned and the muck all ready for collecting. I would do that later, the plan being to scoop it up with the JCB bucket and tip it into the muck trailer, and go and dump it on the poop pile. But I needed to reacquaint myself with JCB controls and with the tractor. I needed a hot drink first.

Dad had let the chickens out and collected the eggs, so, eggs for breakfast.

"You were doing okay," Dad said, "so I didn't interfere."

"Thanks, I expect I will get quicker as I get more practice."

"No hurry, do it at your own pace, that way there won't be accidents."

"True. 363 was virtually dry."

"Yes, Saturday."

"I will dig the hole later today. I need some hot food and a hot drink, and then I need to go and either shower or at least wash my legs first."

"Eggs and bread. We have run out of bacon at the moment."

"Perfect, do you want some?"

"No, I am fine thanks."

I put two eggs on to fry and cut two slices of bread. The butter, even though it wasn't in the fridge, was still hard and not easy to spread. I flipped the eggs and then added to the bread and made a sandwich. Tea had brewed and I added some milk and sat at the kitchen table. It was going to be a hard life that was for sure. And it was a commitment for life. You don't retire from farming, you farm until you die. Simple as.

After breakfast I went up to my room and stripped my dress off. The dress had survived, but my legs were a mess, a shower it had to be. I stripped off my underwear and headed to the bathroom and turned the shower on and stepped in. I also needed to shave, but that could wait until Sunday, it was there, but not urgently there, a few more days wouldn't harm. As I stood showering Dad came in, unzipped and used the loo.

Okay. I suppose this was something else I would have to get used to. I watched as he urinated, and then as he waggled his dick to get the last droplets out and then put it back in his trousers, and smiled as I realised that it had been not as relaxed as it might be. Dad turned and looked at me in the shower, his eyes lingering on my shaved fanny, before he washed his hands and left.

The next thing I had to do was remember how to use the JCB and go and dig the hole ready for 363's innards. That took some mental gymnastics, nothing was like a car controls, and I had to sit for a moment but eventually I got it. I slowly drove the JCB across to the far field where the hole was to be dug, I had simply forgotten just how bouncy they are and at first it was unnerving, but eventually I was back in the groove and dug the hole ready for 363.

Back at the dairy I scooped the muck and loaded the trailer, I would probably take that after this evening's dairy run, at least the trailer would be full. Chores done I headed into the farm house for a hot drink. I put the kettle on the hob and sat down and simply breathed. Dad came in.

"Kettle on?"

"Yes Dad, d'ya want a tea?"

"Please."

I put a tea bag in another mug and then when the kettle was ready I poured the water and went to the fridge for milk. Milk here wasn't from a supermarket, yes, it was from one of our cows, but it was unprocessed, it was literally fresh from a teat into a jug each day. It tasted different, and it was something else I had to get used to.

I passed Dad his tea and sat back down.

"You shave," Dad said.

"Yes." Well, can't exactly deny it.

"Your Mum didn't."

"No." A strange conversation to be having over the kitchen table and a cup of tea.

"May I ask why?"

"I prefer it, I prefer the look, and I believe it is more hygienic, and I prefer the feel when intimate."

"Oh. Okay."

"And my past boyfriends preferred it too, but that of course is not a consideration at the moment."

"Right. I was surprised is all."

"Oh? Why?"

"Well, the last time I saw you naked you were a little girl, now you are a woman, and I was surprised how your shape had changed."

Wow, he had really taken a much closer look than I had thought. "Changed?"

"Yes. Fleshed out I suppose, before it was just a little sort of crease, now it has shape and definition, I was surprised."

"Well, in response, prior to today, I had never seen your dick, so I have no comparisons." And that was true, I had never seen his dick, I had never peeked at him in the bathroom or his bedroom, it had just never occurred to me to do so when I had lived at home. Seeing him last night on the landing, and earlier using the loo, had been my first glimpses of the dick that made me.

"I guess living in such close proximity then we will end up seeing more of each other."

"I suppose so."

"Is that an issue for you?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Good."

"Good."

What a very strange conversation. I finished my tea and went off to the barn to see if there were more chores I could do. Dad would have checked the sheep and the pigs, I had done the cows, so really it was just a case of seeing if things were broken that could be mended. To be honest I had evening milking ahead of me and I was absolutely shattered, but I didn't want Dad to see that. In the barn I went and found a small bench of hay bales out of sight and lay down. Just five minutes I promised myself. It was at least an hour

After I had finished evening milking I scooped the muck and loaded the trailer, it was too dark to tip, I didn't remember the farm well enough to risk manoeuvring a tractor and trailer in the dark. It would have to wait until morning I decided.

After a dinner of stewed steak and potato I sat in the lounge opposite Dad. He was reading something, glancing my way occasionally, and I was on my laptop. After an hour or so I was feeling tired again, "I'm going up Dad," I said.

"Goodnight sweetheart," he answered as I left and went up. In my room I stripped and padded across to the bathroom, washed, used the loo, cleaned my teeth and headed back to my room, Dad on the stairs coming up as I passed. In my room I lay on my bed and just thought through the day, and as I was about to turn off my light, I caught sight of Dad going naked to the bathroom, his dick looking more on its uppers than before. I smiled.

I turned my light off and lay there just listening to the sounds of the house, hearing Dad finish in the bathroom, walk along the landing and then go into his room, his bed squeak and then nothing for a while, and then there was a noise. I was also sure I could hear Dad breathing heavily. Intrigued I quietly got up and went to his door and looked in. I almost laughed.

Dad was laying on the bed his hand around his dick and he was masturbating, his hand moving faster and faster, his foreskin covering and then revealing his purple glans. I pushed his door open and walked in and Dad gasped and stopped.

"Sweetheart," he said, "I..."

"It's okay Dad," I said as I sat on his bed. "Let me help."

I moved his hand and replaced it with mine, wrapping my fingers around his dick and squeezing it hard and slowly pushing his foreskin down, his glans revealed, glistening in the low light from his bedside table lamp. Slowly I moved my hand up, his foreskin unravelling, covering his dick again. I pushed down, watching fascinated as his foreskin rolled back and then sort of popped over his rim.

I could not help myself, I leant forward and licked the end of his dick, Dad flinched, his body almost leaving the bed and he gasped loudly as his dick was swallowed in the heat of my mouth. I shagged his dick with my mouth, feeling his dick slide over my tongue, past my tonsils and into my throat, and then back, loving the feel of his rim as it scraped along my tongue.

I slipped a hand down and held his balls, squeezing them slightly, pulsing my fingers as I sucked and lapped his dick. I eased up, my mouth leaving his dick, his foreskin still bunched up below his rim. I eased my leg over him and hovered, lowering myself, feeling his dick as it nudged my petals. I pressed down, his dick pressed up, my entrance was passed and my opening penetrated, and I settled down on his thighs, his dick was fully inside me. I gasped at the sheer pleasure of his dick filling my fanny, the scrape inside as his rim ran over my little bumps and ripples, my petals pressed apart around the base of his dick.

"Oh shit," Dad gasped. Indeed Dad, indeed. No going back now.

I rocked forward, my fanny sliding up his dick, his foreskin unravelling inside me, such a wonderful sensation, and his dick once more at my entrance, my fanny almost empty, and then I rocked back, his dick sliding within me, the moment when his foreskin popped over his rim giving me a shiver of pleasure, his rim squeegeeing my insides, my pleasures ramping up as my pressures increased. It had been a while since I had enjoyed the pleasures so much. In the later days with Mark I realised that I had just been going through the motions, as I looked back, there was no excitement in the sex with him, it was functional, no more.

I began to rock back and forth, increasing my rhythm, Dad's dick flashing within me, the pop of his foreskin lost in the blur of pleasures and sensations as sex became once more what sex should be, absolute pleasure. Faster I rocked, my petals opening and closing around his dick, a slurpy sound as my juices flowed lubricating his dick as it slid within me.

Dad put his arms around me and flexed, and in a moment, I was laying on my back, Dad's dick still inside me, but now he was in control, Dad was shagging me, not me him. He paused, his dick at my entrance, his balls hanging free, my fanny quivering in anticipation, he pushed, hard, his pubis slapping loudly against my mons, his balls striking my thigh, my mouth gasping as his dick pressed deep inside me at my depth.

I was being shagged, royally shagged as they say, Dad's dick was pistoning in and out of me, his pubis slapping against my mons, my gasps as his dick bottomed out inside me adding to the sounds of our copulation. I was stretched, I was filled, my mons warmed with the onslaught, my buttocks clenched and my nipples twinged, Dad was making sort of grunt noises between his heavy breaths, and I was gasping.

Time seemed to slow and I could feel his dick as it travelled inside my fanny, feel his foreskin move along his dick, feel his rim scrape across my bumps, his grunts a strange low sound as if a record was playing at the wrong speed. My pleasures were coursing through my body, travelling from my crotch to my toes, to my ears, dancing around my nipples and causing my fingers to curl.

Suddenly time snapped back and reality was restored, the slaps and grunts were percussive now accompanied by the squeaks from the frame of his bed, faster and faster he went, harder and harder he pushed, deeper and deeper he went, and then he pushed in deeper and harder and held. I gurgled, he spurted inside me and I screamed as my orgasm exploded through me.

My back arched almost throwing dad off, my fanny clamped squeezing his dick, wringing every last drop from him, my fingernails deep into his shoulders, my heels pressing into his mattress, and then it was over. I slumped back to the bed, my fanny relaxed, dad's dick slipped from me with a slurp and I felt his spunk dribble down between my legs.

I looked up at Dad, he had a look of concern on his face.

"I..." he began.

I put a finger to his lips.