Amish Refuge free porn video

A freezing rain pelted down from the cold winter night. I knew it meant trouble for me, but I didn't know what else it might bring.

I was on my way through Ohio pulling a flatbed load of steel. Everything had been going along well until the rain started and the temperature had begun to plummet. I was west of I-77 and south of Akron, easing through Amish country. The terrain was hilly, and the two lane road was curvy, making for an interesting ride on a nice day. One this black rainy night, it was a bit of a challenge.

"Oh, damn,"  I muttered to myself as I saw the sheen of ice starting to form on my mirrors. This was my first winter of driving a tractor trailer and I was learning fast how to drive in bad weather. This was my first encounter with freezing rain though, and I was not a happy camper.

An old hand had told me that when your mirrors start to freeze up the road won't be far behind. He'd been around for a bunch of years, so I knew the road was going to turn nasty pretty soon.

As if on cue the drive tires started to spin going up a steep little hill. The way to handle that is to back off the throttle until the spinning stops, then feed it fuel until the wheels break traction again. Usually when doing this you are progressively losing momentum so it becomes a question of whether you lose all your forward motion or run out of hill to climb. If you don't run out of hill, you're  screwed, dead in the water, stuck until a wrecker (called a Draggin' Wagon) can get you pulled out if you're in the ditch. If you're still lucky enough to be on the roadway, you have to wait until the temperature rises and the ice melts enough for you to get traction so you can proceed.

I lucked out and ran out of hill before I lost all my mojo. I was still congratulating myself a minute later when I heard an exclamation on the CB radio. "Damn it, Dave, I just lost it going up the hill!" I knew there were a couple ODOT salt spreaders (called salt shakers by truckers) coming along behind me. I'd been listening to them for the last fifteen minutes or so. The lead salt shaker had broken traction on the same hill I'd just made it up. There was hardly any traffic, so I was pretty sure I was the last one who would top that hill going west tonight.

So, here I was easing along on what had become a skating rink, a two lane country highway coated with the dreaded black ice. Black ice is still ice, the bad thing about it is you can run into it and not be aware it's there until you get on the brakes, then things can get real squirrelly real fast. Compacted snow still has a little texture but black ice is as smooth as the top of an ice cube, as well as being invisible.

I started to look for a pull off, someplace I could shut down and wait until conditions became better. No luck though, all that was available was the ditch along the roadway, which I was avoiding like the plague.

I'd made it about five more miles, struggling up a few more hills, losing speed and praying to make it to the top, easing down the backside and still on the lookout for a wide spot to park. Apparently parking spots are like cops; you can never find one when you need one.

I made it up another hill and was going down the other side when I noticed I couldn't see my trailer marker lights in my mirror on the drivers side. I rolled down my window quickly and caught a better view, one that knotted my guts up into a ball. My trailer was coming around, headed for the ditch to the left. It had broken traction on the ice even though my tractor hadn't. A wreck was coming in at most a few seconds and I was the star attraction!

"What the hell do I do NOW?" I knew I had to get the trailer straightened out behind my tractor. All this flashed through my mind in a heartbeat. I reached up and came down on the trailer trolley brake, a lever which engages the trailer brake only. At the same time I gave my tractor a little fuel, making it go just a thread faster than my trailer, pulling everything back into a straight line.

"Whew, it worked! It fucking worked!" I yelled to myself, amazed at my successful manuever. I was just in time for the next crisis, it turned out. Here I was straightened out but going too damned fast down an ice coated hill and I could just barely see a curve up ahead. I knew I was going too fast to make it.

"What ya gonna do now, Sherlock?" I put my passenger side steer tire off onto the foot wide shoulder, knowing there'd be a little gravel on it, praying it'd give enough traction to let me keep control of my rig. This last couple minutes had me down to my last nerve and that one was smokin' pretty damned bad.

When you find yourself in these situations all you can do is go for it, hope it turns out alright, then sit back and watch the show. I did get a little more traction riding the shoulder and was able to bleed off a little speed. As I came into the curve and turned my steering wheel into it, that old Mack cabover held on like a hungry barnyard cat holds onto a fat rat.

"We made it!" I crowed to myself, even thought you couldn't have driven a needle in my ass with a ball peen hammer! "That's two for two, old son. Wanna go for the bonus round?" The answer was "Fuck no!" I went back to looking for a pull off again.

I spotted a farm house ahead on the right, and there was a wide drive just past it. I decided I'd be better off trying to explain to farmer Yoder why I was parked in his driveway than I'd be if I wrecked my rig. I slowed down and dove into it. It turned out to be a wide open area between the house and a barn. It was hard packed, well graveled, good solid terrain, so I wouldn't be stuck when it was time to go.

My plan was to sit there and let my truck run so I'd still have some heat while I slept until the sun came up. Than I could weigh my options and decide what to do. I just hoped the farmer didn't decide to tote his shotgun out and ventilate me for the intrusion.

The Amish don't have modern conveniences, things like electric lights or running water. The house was totally dark, and I knew everyone inside had been long in bed. I hoped I didn't awaken anyone when I pulled the parking brake buttons on my dashboard, creating a loud chuff of air as they actuated.

I sat for a few minutes regrouping my shot nerves and thinking things over. I was really pleased that I had been quick minded enough to come up with answers that worked, that got me through the black ice episode. It could have turned out to be a disaster. My nerves were settling and I was thinking I was home free when a tiny light came on inside the house in an upper window. I knew someone had just lit a match. Sure enough, a brighter light flared as that someone touched the match to a lantern.

I waited and in a few minutes here came a light bobbing along toward my rig. I was getting my excuses lined up as the light bearer came to the drivers side door.

It was a woman, dressed in a heavy outer coat over an ankle length dress. She wore a heavy dark scarf to cover her hair. Rubber boots showed under the hem of the dress. I rolled down my window and did my best to offer a smile. She looked up and said "I can see you've gotten yourself into a bit of a tight spot, young'un. No need to stay out here in the cold and freeze. Bring yourself into the house and I'll give you a cup of coffee. It's leftover, mind you, but it's still warm, and I expect it'll go down good on such a night as this."

I grabbed my coat and bailed out the drivers door. "Are you sure, ma'am? I wouldn't want to put you out or anything. I'm really sorry for waking you up and all, I just had to get off the road. I almost wrecked getting down that last hill."

"I know, it's a might slickery out here, sure it is. I don't blame you a'tall. I'm just doing what a neighbor would do, trying to help as best I can."

She led the way toward the house, that dim lantern casting a golden ring of light about her feet as she shuffled along. The rain had turned to sleet and the pellets of ice bounced off the brim of my cap. Particles of ice stuck to her scarf, glowing like tiny diamonds in the night as they reflected the lantern light.

We entered the house into a small mud room. A heavy mat was on the floor. One wall was arrayed with coat hooks, several of which were occupied with heavy winter coats, a couple insulated bib overalls, a few long scarves. Under them shoes were lined up, mostly boots of one sort or another, but a few pairs of house shoes as well. "If you'd be so kind, wipe your feet. I don't fancy havin' to mop up at this late hour."

She led me into the kitchen which was huge. It had a big six eyed wood cookstove which was barely hot, having been shut down for the night a while earlier. A large kitchen table with eight chairs sat in the center of the room, bearing witness that this was a large family. A large double metal sink sat under the window, a long drain board on the left side of it. These were Amish folks and their dishwasher had a name, Ann or Betty or...dishes were done by hand from water heated on the cookstove, then rinsed in cold water in the second sink which had been filled by buckets carried from the hand pump located on a side porch.

Various cabinets held dishes and cookware. A large kitchen cabinet was along another wall.  I remembered my mother had one when I was a kid. It had a large bin in the top left side which held a twenty pound bag of flour. On the front of the bin was a crank handle which sifted the flour through a screen and out the conical bottom. An enameled counter top slid out, giving a work area for the making of fresh hot biscuits, which were usually baked for both breakfast and supper. It had another cabinet on the top right for sugar, salt, and other spices. It featured a couple smaller pull out drawers under the work surface for tableware, kitchen utensils, the odds and ends every cook has. Under that was a storage area large enough to fit buckets, tubs, and larger bowls.

"Sit yourself down whilst I get a cup. Do you want any sugar or milk for your coffee? I have a few biscuits left too, but they're cold. I have strawberry preserves to go with them, if you'd like."

I accepted the sugar so she got a spoon for stirring. "Sugar bowl's on the table, help yourself." She set the coffee before me and tiny whisps of steam arose. I put a spoon of sugar to it and stirred, then sipped. Her coffee had backbone alright, and probably could have walked on its own.

She sat across from me and folded her hands on the table in front of her. They were thin hands, work roughened and red. This woman worked, was no hothouse rose. Her face was thin, her cheeks flat plains beneath the most amazing blue eyes, deep and calm like a picture of a mountain lake late in the day as dusk neared. Graying whisps of hair escaped her scarf.

"Ma'am, I appreciate your kindness, and I'm so sorry to have disturbed you."

"It's no bother and true be told I'm glad to see a fresh face. My husband and sons are away at market and they'll be a while getting home due to this weather. After you've had your coffee I'll show you off to bed. You can stay the night and tomorrow things may turn for the better. We're supposed to lend help to the stranger and the foreigner. You aren't no foreigner, but a stranger you be."

Thanking her again I sipped coffee with cold biscuits painted with some of the best strawberry preserves ever eaten by man. When done she set my cup and plate on the side board to await the next dishwashing. She took up her lantern and told me to follow. We went through the living room which had a large wood stove which was putting out some deliciously enjoyable heat. We paused while she fed it a couple small logs, then we went up the wooden stairs to the upper level where the bedrooms were. I'd gotten a sense of how large this home was. It must have had ten or twelve rooms. She took me to the second door on the left and led me inside. "This is one of my son's room. He won't mind that you use it." She lit a candle from the lantern and set it on a night stand.

"You can leave it burn for light if you wish."

I thanked her again and she retreated out the door, closing it behind her. I heard her boots thumping down the hallway, a door creak as it opened and closed. Silence settled in, the only sound the faint rattle of the sleet hitting the window. I skinned my clothes off and turned back the thick layer of bedclothes, clean white sheets top and bottom overlaid with thick hand made quilts. I knew these quilts were worth quite a bit due to their beautiful artistry as well as their utility. I was full of good coffee, biscuits and preserves, and getting into a bed fit for a king! It doesn't get a lot better than that, I mistakenly thought.

It must have been an hour later when I was jolted awake by the sound of my door opening. My candle was still burning but didn't do much to brighten the room. I saw a figure standing inside the door, and could barely discern that it was a female form. She was dressed in a floor length nightgown, free flowing around her, hiding her shape to me. On her head was a nightcap, the long straps tied beneath her chin.

She approached my bedside quietly, making no sound at all. As she got nearer the light I could see she was young, a late teen to early twenty something.

"What are you doing?" I'm pretty quick when it comes to asking obvious questions. My Momma didn't raise but three idiots and I'm not one of them.

"I'm cold. Would you mind if I got into your bed? This room is above the living room and it's a lot warmer than mine."

As an answer I flipped the corner of the covers down, giving her room to slip beneath the sheets with me. She was right, her feet were like ice cubes and her hands weren't a lot better.

"I'm Rebekah." She introduced herself in a whisper. "I saw Momma bring you inside. I'm glad she did, it's a terrible night out there."

"Yes it is, Rebekah. I'm Sam, and I'm glad to make your acquaintance." We were facing one another, huddled under the covers, and she giggled softly. I was a little shocked when she snuggled close and gave me a kiss.

She was a farm girl, built a little more for plowing than for the race course. Her waist was thick, but she wasn't fat. My hand rested there as she snuggled me for heat. Being a guy, that didn't last for long. My hands went off exploring. I've been told I have Russian hands and Roman fingers. Her fanny was large, round, and very firm. My free hand caressed it, enjoying the feel under her soft cotton gown.

She continued to kiss me, my face, my neck, my lips. She was a hungry lass and was getting into what we were doing. I kissed her sweet young mouth and tried to entice her teeth apart so our tongues could tango. She didn't open and I was surprised, then it hit me that she'd never been French kissed before!

I whispered to her 'Open your mouth, let our tongues play together." She did and very quickly found she loved this new thing she'd discovered. Soon she was sucking my tongue into her mouth, our tongues dancing in an erotic frenzy.

Her hands became a bit more adventuresome. Her fingers traced my chest, carressed it, played with my nipples. One went down to my stomach, tracing circles playfully. Lower it went until she encountered the waist band of my boxers. She didn't hesitate but slipped a flattened hand underneath, wrapped it around my cock. I was already very hard from our kissing and her cool hand squeezing me felt incredible.

I untied her nightcap and pulled it off her head. Her hair had been tied up in a large bun. She shook it loose and it became a long mane of wavy dark hair, very sexy as it cascaded over her shoulder. I ran my fingers through that chestnut mane, and she almost purred from my touch. Her hand began to gently massage my cock, then she cupped my balls in her hand, teased them with her fingertips. I opened my legs for her, giving her free reign to explore to her heart's content.

I put my hands under the covers again and found her breasts. I was surprised to find that they were not large. I'd expected them to be much bigger, given the thickness of her waist and the roundness of her hips and ass. They were instead small hillocks, very firm, and capped with tiny pebbles for nipples. Those nipples were already so hard she could have etched crystal with them. I brushed my thumbs over them which brought a gasp from her. She arched her back, pressing toward my hands, wanting more of that attention.

All this was going on as we were still kissing. She'd starting sucking my lower lip between hers, biting it lightly, pulling on it, suckling it. It felt amazing, and her enthusiasm was impressive. Every thing we did was an act complete, needed no other for pleasure, but of course there were others.

I whispered to her "I'd like for you to take off your gown." She immediately gathered the hem in her hands and skinned it off over her head. Her skin in the candle glow was golden like fresh butter. No hint of blemish, perfect and all mine on this savage winter night.

I found her breasts again, and continued to caress them. I kissed her neck, her shoulders, found my way to her small mounds. I kissed them, circled then lightly with my tongue, moistened them and blew cold air across them. I felt her nipples become even harder, impossible as I thought that to be. I nibbled her nipples, sucked them, kissed her firm little peaks.

She had never stopped massaging my cock and balls. I had to admire her ability to focus. My hands wandered back to her bottom, freed of its interfering gown. Her flanks were as smooth as silk, as firm as a country ham. My hands travelled upward along her side, her waist slightly curving inward, describing the lovely shape of a lute. There is a reason many musical instruments bear that form. They are designed by men, made by men, for the visual pleasure of men.

I put my hand on her tummy, teasing her. Lower it went until it found her mound. It had a dense forest of thick hair, and as I teased it I could tell it was long, wild, totally natural and untrimmed. My fingers sought access and she parted her thighs for me. I traced along her channel and found to my delight she was already oozing sweet nectar, flowing from her desire. Soon I had spread her honey up and down, making her ready for my attentions.

She had also discovered my own silken treasure. My precum had started to flow and she had been massaging the head of my cock with it, all around the glans. Her touch was electric, making me raise my hips, wanting ever more and more.

"Have you been with a man before, Rebekah?"

"No, never." Her eyes were downcast, and if the light had been stronger I'd have seen a blush steal onto her cheeks.

"That's alright. I promise I won't hurt you. We'll both remember this night for all of our life."

She nodded just a little, hesitant now, suddenly bashful. I was smitten by her sweetness, her hesitancy. She was giving me the finest gift a woman can give to a man, the gift of herself, her first bloom, the very blush of her maidenhood.

I surprised her when I dove beneath the covers. I kissed down her belly, teased her navel with my tongue, kissed ever lower. I found her channel, teased down one side with my tongue tip all the way to her taint, back up the other side. I tasted her nectar, salty and musky and so intoxicating. Her folds were like a rose petal, her outer lips full and flushed with need. Her inner lips protruded slightly, twin kisses waiting for my own. I took one and softly drew it into my mouth, pulling as I suckled it. The other was next and I could hear her gasp, feel her breath quicken.

I took a thumb and gently pushed upward on her sheath and was rewarded when her clitoris was exposed. I wished for a flashlight so I could see it in all its pink firm beauty. It was tiny and erect, so like her nipples; the designer never abandons his design in the middle of his work of creation.

I blew across her clit, lightly flickered my tongue tip across it. Her groan was testimony to her involvement in what I was doing. She tasted so incredible I wanted to stay there forever. I started to lick her lightly on her clit, more firmly along her crease, sinking my tongue into her slippery pink depths.

As I did this, her hands were clutching my arms, pulling my face into her. She started to tremble, then shudder. Her grip on my arms clenched, became almost painful. I intensified my efforts, wanting to feel her as she exploded into glorious orgasm. She was pushing herself against my face, lifting her bottom from the bed as she demanded more of my tongue. I licked, suckled, kissed, and bathed her wonderful pussy until she finally exploded into a quaking paralytic cascade of pleasure. I kept licking, so very tender as she went into the secret place where only she could go and experience her ultimate physical bliss.

As the tsunami of her orgasm abated I kissed her mound, her abdomen, her hips. I wanted her to enjoy the tenderness a man can display to his lover, to make it one of the most memorable experiences of her life. I kissed my way up her body, her chest, her breasts, her neck. My head came out into the fresh cold air. The first thing I saw was a huge grin widening her lips. Her eyes were closed and she was lying there, luxuriating in the after glow of orgasm.

I put my leg across hers and snuggled close, kissed her cheek. My hard cock lay across her, a warm band against the soft flesh of her lower belly.

She reached down and started to caress me again. I quickly became as hard as it was possible to get. I raised myself and put my knee between her legs and she parted them for me. I got on top of her in a missionary position, guiding my hard cock toward her slit. Finding it I gently stroked my length along her channel, letting the soft skin of my cock brush her clit. She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me so hard I'm surprised I didn't hear ribs crack.

I continued to massage her clit with my hard cock and she purred and gasped. Finally she reached under the covers, took my shaft in her hand and guided me to her opening. She was drenched in her nectar, my cock gliding easily along her slit. As she found the place, I pushed in gently. Just a little and I encountered resistance. "She's a virgin!" My mind yelled at me, declaring the obvious. I pushed harder and her husky grunt as well as the removal of resistance told me I had breached the fortress. Now, it was mine to plunder!

I slid into her, an inch at a time until finally my balls were nestled into the valley between her mound and butt. Each time I gave her an inch I'd withdraw a half inch, until finally she had engulfed me. She was warm, silky and very tight around me. I started to stroke her, gently at first, then building speed and power into my thrusts. Our bodies started to slap together, skin against skin, as I rammed myself in to the hilt with every stroke. I pounded her mound with my own, and I knew we'd both be sore in the morning, battered from my assault. I corkscrewed my ass around as I stroked, putting as much pressure on the sides of her silky tunnel as possible.

Her fingers were hooked into claws, digging into my back as I drove myself into her. Her breath had become a raspy pant and I knew she was coming to her second orgasm of the night. I abandoned any pretense at gentleness, gave way to raw elemental animalistic fucking as I felt my own orgasm rushing toward me. Rebekah yelled through her clenched lips and teeth as her orgasm hit her. In a few more strokes my own exploded like a hand grenade. I felt spurt after spurt of my hot sperm jet inside her. With every spasm she was draining my balls, exhausting me. I held myself on hands and knees, deeply buried in her, flooding her womb. She could feel my cock spasming inside her and her smile became even wider.

As our climax subsided I withdrew and settled beside her, pulling the covers tight up to our chins. She snuggled against me, kissed my neck, pressed her body as close to me as she could possibly get. My hand under her neck came up and smoothed her dark mane of hair, traced along her shoulder.

We lay like this for a while, enjoying the intimacy of one another. Finally she whispered "I have to go now. If my Momma catches me in your bed I'll have a bushel of trouble." I kissed her and whispered that I understood. She quickly got out of bed, shrugged herself back into her nightgown, twisted her hair back into a bun and put on her nightcap, then slipped quietly out my door, as silent as the shadows dancing in the flickering candle light.

I lay there thinking about what had just happened, relishing the sensations she had given to me. Somewhere along the way I fell into a deep and untroubled sleep. I awoke to the sound of pots and pans. I got out of bed and dressed quickly, my breath a fog as I exhaled into the cold air.

I went downstairs and found the kitchen. Through the window I could see bright daylight. The storm had exhausted itself and a beautiful new day was beginning. The lady of the house was busy at the stove making breakfast. Seated in the three chairs behind the table were three girls.

"Good morning to you, sir. I hope you rested well. These are my three girls. Betsy is on the left, Sarah is in the middle, and that's Rebekah on the right. They're good girls every one. Say hello to our guest, please girls."

They each smiled and gave a hello. Rebekah gave the biggest smile, the most cheerful hello of them all. I noticed she was smiling a lot as breakfast proceeded. Her appetite also seemed to be very healthy as well. We enjoyed fried scrapple, fried potatoes, biscuits and saw mill gravy, home made blueberry preserves, fresh milk and hot coffee. It was as fine a breakfast as I'd ever enjoyed and the company was superb.

We lingered a while and chatted, then the girls had to be about their chores. Betsy at sixteen was youngest, so she got to do the dishes. Sarah was the middle at eighteen, and her chore was to refill the wood boxes to keep the cookstove and heater supplied. Rebekah was oldest at twenty two and her task was to go out and feed the livestock. She gave the horses a measure of grain followed by hay. The cows got the same, followed by the pigs and chickens. She gathered a few early eggs so they wouldn't freeze and burst, bringing her pail into the kitchen to wash them off before putting them into a wicker basket.

When Rebekah came back inside the mother told the two younger girls to get dressed for outdoors, they had to be about their milking. They all shrugged themselves into warm coats and boots, gathered their buckets and went out to the barn. Not a minute had passed until Rebekah came to me, showering me with her kisses. She tasted just as sweet in the morning as she had last night.

We kissed a lot and she let me use my hands on her to induce another orgasm. She stood by the kitchen window keeping a watch for her Mom and sisters as I worked my will on her. She held her long skirt up as her bare bottom was my toy. I pushed two fingers inside her and worked them in and out as my thumb massaged her clit. It wasn't long before she almost collapsed from my efforts. I felt her tight young pussy clench around my fingers as her orgasm roared through her. A tiny trail of her nectar traced down her inner thigh as she exploded in shuddering delight.

We'd reassembled ourselves before the ladies returned from the barn with pails full of snowy white warm milk from the cows. Mom said the sun was already making the ice soften so I should be able to go in another hour or so. She told me if I'd like I could sit in the living room by the heater which sounded wonderful.

In an hour I reappeared in the kitchen and told the Mrs. that I probably should get going. I offered to pay her for the room and the food, but she hushed me into silence. "I don't expect to be paid for being a good neighbor, wouldn't have a cent of your money. I'm just glad I was able to give you a good dry bed and a decent breakfast."

I thanked her profusely and told her I couldn't imagine spending a more pleasant and enjoyable visit. I noticed Rebekah's smile, dimples in her cheeks and eyes shining as I spoke. She offered to accompany me out to my truck as she still had a few chores to do in the barn. Her Momma said that'd be alright, so I got my coat on and we went outside. The air was still and the ice was melting in the sunlight.

As we got to my drivers door we were hidden from view. Rebekah put her arms around my neck and kissed me hard. "I want to thank you, Sam. You've made me the happiest woman in the county!" I chuckled and told her that I was a pretty happy man as well.

I didn't tell her that I loved her, though I might have been falling in that direction. I didn't ask for her phone number; the Amish don't have telephones. I didn't promise to come back as soon as I could. She and I were from two different worlds, almost different universes, connected only by our human need.

I climbed up into my rig, made sure the tractor was out of gear, shoved in the clutch and turned the engine. The big diesel groaned, spit and caught, spluttering grayish smoke into the cold air as she smoothed out. I watched Rebekah as she disappeared into the barn, giving me one final glance over a pretty shoulder as she did.

After a couple minutes, I put the Mack into reverse, looked for oncoming traffic and backed out onto the roadway. Starting forward I saw that the black ice had turned to slush or just water. I brought my truck up to speed and started eating miles. In a few hours I'd make my delivery.

In a couple miles I saw an Amish couple coming toward me, a single horse pulling their buggy as a crisp pace. They seemed happy as larks, blankets on their legs to preserve warmth as they went along. I reflected that their lifestyle, while harsh by our tech heavy standards, did have its attractions. As the miles started to pile up I drew farther away from Rebekah's world and settled back into my own.

I'll never forget that night though, and I have gone back through that area many times. Each time I look for a blue eyed woman in a bonnet with dimples in her smile. I imagine she might have a baby, a reminder of stolen romance during an icy storm, from a stranger who gave her that first taste of love.