The Life of a Hoosier Farm Girl

In Chapter 5, Nancy freaks out when Billie Jean enters intensive care while she is a nurse stationed there. She later dates Mike and they finally hook up. It's now two weeks later.

NB: Most of the other chapters of this story so far were published in the Exhibitionist and Voyeur category, except for one which was published in Group Sex.

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The next day, even though it was Sunday, I reported for work. I worked at one of the nice hospitals on the East Side of Manhattan. It was a long subway ride and to save time I wore my nursing outfit under my light coat.

Luckily it was a busy day. I was kept running around and had no time to think about Mike, Al, Billie Jean and the restaurant. I began to suspect some force of nature that constantly shoved Billie Jean into my life.

It was two weeks later, and I had not heard from Mike. It was fun while it lasted, although it was certainly bizarre at Al's palace on Park Avenue. But now I guess it was over. Two weeks and not even a telephone call? Yes, it was over.

I would probably never see him again. It made me sad; I guess I had fallen for him. Hard. Well, too bad, I thought. I was working intensive care. There was no time for idle ruminations; I had to pay attention.

My second one night stand with Diego had shown to me that I had major vulnerabilities. Both Diego and Mike were able to use my submissive nature to their advantage. As I now knew, they were also ruthless about it. As I recalled what both of them had "made" me do, I shivered. I also got a little wet. I am one messed up girl, I thought to myself.

I had asked Diego why he had stalked me to track down my apartment in Brooklyn with the help of an NSA friend. Surely he could use his flattery skills to lay lots of pretty girls down in Washington, DC, where he lives and works. Why come to NY to try again with me?

His answer surprised me. Instead of telling me I was the prettiest girl in the world, or the best in bed, or that I had stolen his heart, he told the truth: "No woman I have ever met is a submissive like you are. I can control you completely. You even had sex with a stranger because I ordered you to do so. I've never had such control over a woman. And look what you did for me today! Your submissive nature, and your penchant for exhibitionism, makes you the woman of my dreams. You're the woman of my wet dreams," he said.

After that, he had me pose nude, with a cucumber half inside me. He asked for a big smile, and that's what he got.

***********

Thinking about my times with Diego, and my lost potential lover Mike, and the disappearance of my new friend Billie Jean only to see her unconscious and in intensive care, put me in a reflective mood, and I began to think about my times back home in Indiana.

I remembered my Mom. She fell ill with breast cancer at an early age. My parents were too poor to afford healthcare, and it was before Obamacare or much of anything else in Southern Indiana.

If you were poor back then, and you got cancer, you died. People there were on their own. My mother postponed going to a doctor. I don't know why; maybe she was scared what she would learn, or maybe it was the expense she was afraid of. Probably it was some of both. By the time my mother went to a doctor it was too late. She died a horrible death and my brother and I gave her palliative care. I was only 16 then.

When I was 18, I came home from school one day and found my father crying. He was a strong, proud man. He never cried. It was my mother's birthday, and as I sat with him, I realized he was crying because he missed her so much. She had now been gone for two years. I sat next to him, to comfort him.

A few hours later it became clear what kind of comfort my father really needed. It had been a long time for a grown, virile man. Our neighbors down the road a piece had had marital troubles, and the wife, Mary Ann, often flirted with my Dad when her husband was in the fields. My father had hopes, but Mary Ann was all flirt, no action. As they say in Texas I'm told, she was all hat, and no cattle. Besides, she was married, and my Dad is not an adulterer.

I knew all that, of course. I was only 18, but I was not blind. My father was looking at me strangely. I knew that look; I got it from boys all the time. It was because of my near perfect figure, my slightly large boobs, and -- again, modesty aside -- because I was the prettiest girl in the county.

"You look just like your mother when she was your age," my Dad observed.

"That's when you knocked her up and she got pregnant with me, I guess," I said.

"Maybe," my Dad cryptically said.

"Maybe? I would say definitely," I said. "I'm here, right? You didn't just pluck me from a corn stalk, you know. That's how children come to be, Dad. You have sex, and nine months later..."

"Your Mom was the prettiest girl in the county, just as you are now, I'll bet," my Dad said. I realized he was drunk. "She could have any boy she wanted, and she..."

"What are you trying to say, Dad?" I asked when he stopped, although I had a sinking feeling I already knew. My Dad remained silent. "Are you saying she could have any boy she wanted, and in fact she did?" He nodded.

"How many?"

"I don't know, exactly," he said. "I once narrowed it down, though. Given the time she probably got pregnant, and narrowing it down to the most likely week, I'd say there are only around ten men who could be your biological father. I'm one of them, of course. And I'm the one she loved and married," he said exhibiting pride at having landed my mother, probably the biggest slut the county had ever known.

"Ten men, in one week?" I weakly asked.

"Yeah; and that includes me. So it was only nine, if you exclude me. And of course, six of them were at the Red Barn gangbang," my Dad explained.

I screamed. The Red Barn gangbang was legendary in our parts. Every teenage boy (and hence every teenage girl) still talked about it, and how at some time, long ago, there was a gorgeous slut who took on all comers at the Red Barn Bar one night. Or at least that's the legend. Many a boy I knew had undoubtedly whacked off thinking of that legend.

I realized my father was teasing me. "You're not serious, are you?" I said.

"No," he said. "The Red Barn slut had to move away. Could you imagine doing something like that, and then continuing to live in these parts? It would be hell on earth."

"You mean there really was a Red Barn gangbang? It's not just a stupid legend??" I was incredulous.

"Yep. And Betty Lou was one fine piece of ass. I hear she moved to Chicago shortly after," my Dad said.

"And my Mom?" I asked.

"Your Mom and I watched the whole thing. Everyone did. Then each young woman picked a man and led him away. Your Mom chose me. The prettiest, sexiest girl in the county chose me. She took me in back of the barn, out in the corn fields. She found a clearing. She said, "Frank, I want you," and she took off all her clothes. She stood there naked, in front of me, caressing her own boobs. God, she was gorgeous. I will never forget the sight of your mother naked in front of me for the first time that day. That's probably when I knocked her up with you. Best thing I ever did," he said, and he looked at me with deep love in his eyes.

"Oh, Dad!" I said, and I made a mistake: I kissed him on his lips for the first time in my life. He was traveling back in time, remembering the night of the Red Barn gangbang when he made love with my Mom for the very first time, and here I was kissing him, looking exactly as my Mom did back then.

"You kiss just like your Mom did. Kiss me again," my Dad said. I know I look like my Mom did when she was my age. Lots of my parents' friends have commented on how I am her spitting image. I know too that I sound like my Mom. I did not know until that very moment that I kissed like her, too.

We kissed again. It was hot, and I was wearing a halter top with no bra, together with short shorts. My father was smooth; I did not even feel him untie my halter top. "You have the same tits as your Mom, too," my Dad said, and he began to cry again.

I could not stand to see him cry, and not knowing what to do, I kissed him again. His hands went over my boobs, and I got aroused. I had already done the deed with two boys, so while my knowledge of sex was limited, I was not a complete innocent. I knew damn well we should not be doing this. My father knew too, no doubt. He at least was drunk. My only excuse was the stupidity of youth.

"I want you to become a doctor," he told me. "I want you to help people, to help sick people." I knew he was saying that as he remembered my mother, and her horrific cancer. He looked at me. I'm sure he did not see me, but rather he saw my mother 19 years earlier. He said, "Come with me," and he took my hand, and he led me, topless, out of the house and into the corn fields.

It was early August, and the corn stalks were as high as I was tall. There was a small clearing in the middle of the field. "The place where your mother gave herself to me was just like this," he said. "Same time of year. Maybe the corn was a little taller. Maybe not."

"What did she do?" I said, as I stood there in just my short shorts, half naked in front of my father.

"She kissed me. She undressed, completely. She kissed me again, and then she put my hands on her boobs. Nature took its course after that," my Dad said.

Wow, I thought. My mother was an aggressive little 18-year-old wench. She made a serious play for my Dad. It worked, too. They had a wonderful marriage, until the cancer stole it away from them.

My Dad took me into his arms and kissed me. He was time traveling in his mind back to that time, I felt sure. In his eyes, I was his wife, my Mom, 19 years earlier. When the kiss ended, I still don't know why, but I let my father remove my shorts and panties. It was just like my mother had done, 19 years earlier. I did not speak the words of my Mom that fateful day, "Frank, I want you," but I did not have to. My Dad put his hands on my boobs, again, just as he had done with my Mom. Then we kissed again. And then nature took its course.

Nature's course in this case was my Dad gently pushing me down to the ground and putting me on my hands and knees. He entered me from behind. Just like that; no foreplay, no nothing. We were acting out the first fuck of my Mom and Dad. I was living out history.

I was 19, but my Dad was not. He had this big, even massive, seasoned cock, unlike the tentative, much too eager teenage cocks I had known. It filled me up. This was also my first-time rear entry.

On a farm, it seems a natural enough position. It's what the animals do. Usually however, their copulations do not last as long as the one with my Dad did. My Dad has real staying power.

The sensations in my brain were amazing. Somehow, I felt I was born to do this. It was destiny. I don't try to deny destiny. I felt completely alive. I felt as if I actually were my mother just then, seducing the man I wanted most in the entire county. I could have anyone, but I wanted this man.

And like thousands of years of farmers before us, we were doing it in the fields. It felt right in the fields, surrounded by the corn, the corn I had grown up with and had known intimately all my life. We were creating life within the life sustaining force of the best food on earth.

Of course, I was not my mother. I was not creating life since I was on birth control. I was not doing it with the man I wanted most in the county; I was doing it with my own father. I was not my mother, I was me. But dammit, I truly felt as if I had been channeling my mother just then. Her departed soul had entered my body, and she and my father were making love one last time. I was just a vehicle to transmit their eternal love.

I guess I was a pretty good vehicle. I could not believe how good my father's cock felt inside me. I was born to do this! It was so different from the nervous, awkward times with the teenage boys. This time I was aware of every single thrust. I treasured each one, and I pushed back hard to get my father inside me as deeply as possible.

He began to increase the speed, and I matched his tempo, thrust for thrust. I suddenly realized we were out in the fields, and nobody could hear us, and let myself go. I moaned up a storm. My moans actually helped, and it brought me closer and closer.

My body felt strange, sort of tingly, and I cold feel pressure building down there, until suddenly, well, I cannot describe it, but the release was sudden, almost a surprise, and it was intense. It was my first orgasm while fucking, and it overwhelmed the small ones my fingers had given me previously.

I know I was babbling incoherently, but I was no longer in control. Like so many farmers' daughters before me, I was a mess of emotions, hormones, and -- especially -- endorphins.

We never did it again, my father and I. We never had regrets, either. From then on, when we kissed, it was always on the mouth. My father would often feel me up while we kissed, and I would giggle, remembering this time. But that's as far as it ever went again.

Not because of me. I was willing. Any time he wanted me, he could have had me. But he did not want to have an ongoing affair with his little girl; he just wanted the impossible: to make love with his dear, departed wife. For one glorious moment, I had been his wife. I had become my mother, not just in his eyes, but also in mine. That magical time was gone, but the beautiful memory of it remains. It was our secret, and it still is.

There is a coda to the recollection I just recounted, and it is a rather big one. I had moaned up a storm as my father made love to me. A neighbor boy, Jeremiah, heard my moans and snuck up on us. We were unaware. When we were done, my father went back to the house, but I lay there, on my back, naked. I am often immobilized after a good fuck, and this one had been very good.

Jeremiah watched me lying there, hidden in the corn fields. I was full of my Dad's cum. He revealed himself, walking out of the corn stalks, and I screamed. He shushed me, telling me not to be scared. Jeremiah was a few years older than I was, but I suspect I was already more sexually experienced than he was.

"You're the most beautiful girl in the county, Nancy," he said. "I am so lucky to see you naked. God, you are gorgeous. Would it be okay if I kissed you?"

I laughed silently to myself. Here Jeremiah comes across a girl who is naked and who just fucked her father and is completely vulnerable; and he is asking if he can kiss me? What a sweetheart this man is! I said, "Sure, if that's all you want. Go for it, Jeremiah. Let's see how you kiss."

He said, "I'm not that good at kissing, Nancy. I'm not much good with girls. Not for lack of desire; I'm just shy, you know?"

I sat up. He sat down next to me. I was naked and just fucked, and he was shy and fully clothed. It was all he could do to ask permission to kiss. He was too shy actually to kiss me. I kissed him. I kissed him gently on the lips. He tasted sweet.

"Let's kiss again," I said, "and this time open your mouth." Jeremiah learned how to kiss a girl that day in early August. Next I said, "Now that you kiss great, let's teach you how to play with my boobs, okay?"

"Really?" he said. "You'll let me do that?"

I did not answer verbally, but I took his right hand and placed it on my boobs. His hand just sat there, resting on my left boob, not moving at all. I moved his hand around and told him to play with my nipple. He quickly learned the art of playing with a girl's boobs. "It does not matter much what you do with a girl's boobs, as long as you enjoy them," I said.

When he was done, I began to get up. Jeremiah said, "Nancy, could you teach me a little more?"

"What do you have in mind?" I asked.

"All my friends talk about how great it is to fuck a girl, and I pretend I know, too, but I really don't. And you're so pretty and all, and super nice, and also naked," he said. I looked at his crotch and it was obvious he was hard.

"You're asking to fuck me? So you can learn how it feels?" I asked, a bit incredulously.

"Yes, and if you are willing, I can give you $57. That's all I have," Jeremiah said.

"Oh, Jeremiah, you can't offer money to a girl for sex. If she were to say yes, it would turn her into a prostitute," he looked perplexed. "A whore, Jeremiah. I would be a whore if I accepted money for sex." I had no idea how dumb Jeremiah actually was. Let's just say he was not the sharpest tool in the shed.

"How about if I tell you secrets about your mother, then? Could we do it if I told you secrets?" he asked. Jeremiah was desperate. It was both sweet, touching, and gross, all at the same time.

"If the 'secrets' are true, and good enough, we could do some things," I said. I was anxious to learn more about my Mom's secret life, if indeed there was one. I knew Jeremiah was too slow to make up good secrets on the spot, so if he told me any, it was likely they'd be true.

"My Dad told me," Jeremiah began. "He was drunk one night, and he spilled the beans." I actually thought Jeremiah was using a metaphor. Silly me. He added, "As I helped him clean up the beans, he told me the story about swapping."

"Swapping?" I asked, a bit incredulously.

"Yeah. I didn't know what it meant, either. As you know, there are six farms near yours. Ours is one. Each Tuesday night the men would go to a different farm, and they would spend the night. My Dad said all the men liked your farm the best. He never explained why, though. But he did say it was because of your Mom. She was the best, he said. The absolute best!"

Jeremiah paused, and then said, as if it were an insight, "My guess is she baked some mighty fine cakes and pies. My Dad always had a weakness for good desserts." He then whispered, conspiratorially, "My own Mom is not so good when it comes to baking, you know? She does make great jam, though."

"I'd like to taste her jam sometime," I said, in a slight state of shock to learn this interesting detail about my parents, and my neighbor's parents.

"You know, I was eating it in bed this morning and spilled little. But it's in a private place. Want to see? I mean you're naked and all, so..."

"Sure," I said.

Jeremiah undressed. He showed me the jam. It covered his penis, which was erect and looked to be as hard as a rock. "I was going to wash it off, but I forgot."

"Well, let's see how it tastes," I said. I leaned over and took his jam covered cock in my mouth and licked off the jam. It really was good jam. It was cherry, no doubt about it. I laughed to myself as I thought about the obvious pun. Then I gave Jeremiah his first ever blowjob. He was extremely grateful, but he actually thought we had had sex, because he ejaculated into my mouth. He was ecstatic, and in awe of the pleasure I had given him.

I explained that I had performed a sex act, but real sex was when he put his cock inside my vagina. He didn't understand. I used the word pussy. Still no bells. I tried cunt. "That's what all my friends talk about!" he said, now very excited. "Can we do that, too?"

"Your story already got you a blowjob. What else do you have for me?" I said, not without tenderness.

"I've got pictures," he said.

"Pictures? What of, exactly?"

"Of your Mom, silly! I mean when she was your age. Actually, they look like you do, right now," he said.

"Do you mean my Mom is naked in the pictures? And your father took them?" I asked, now truly interested.

"My Dad is naked, too, and he is lying on her. There's also a picture where your Mom is lying on my Dad. Her boobs look like just like yours do now," Jeremiah said. "My Dad has a secret stash of pictures like that, with all the women of the six farms, but I found it." Jeremiah's pride was obvious.