Buck Takes a Bride
- 2 years ago
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Buck Day free porn video
Toward the end of November most normal Americans think of Thanksgiving
as their holiday of choice. No so the hunters of Pennsylvania, where
the opening of Deer Season easily drives all though of turkey from
their minds. One might go so far as to take the word back to it's
origins: Holy Day. Truly a day of reverence; the schools are closed, as
are many of the small shops, and the woods around the small towns of
the Endless Mountains ring with the report of rifles. This can be a
sobering thought for the average denizen of the State, considering the
amount of alcohol and other substances consumed in the hunting lodges
and little shacks scattered throughout the woods.
Our hero Phil was a veteran of many such weekends of sportsmanlike
bliss, his freezer was regularly filled with venison for many years.
He owned the full panoply of bright orange gear to identify himself as
something other than a deer while he stalked his own game, drove large
vehicle suitable for transporting his kill to the butchers and had an
endless supply of stories suitable for swapping as he and his buddies
swigged Bourbon and told ever more outrageous lies in preparation for
the hunt.
That is until the Friday evening at the Moose Club when Phil made the
announcement he wouldn't be joining the boys for Buck Day.
"You're not go hunting on Buck Day? Cried Lyle.
"Nope, got some other obligations." Phil was unusually taciturn.
"Impossible!" exclaimed Fred.
"Unthinkable!" swore Pete.
"Un-American!" Thundered Charlie. Charlie always did have an odd view
of what was Patriotic.
But true. Lyle and Pete tried valiantly to convince Phil of his heresy
and bring him back to the True Path, but Phil remained obstinate in his
refusal. Considerable ingenuity and many pints of beer went into the
search for what could possibly be more important than hunting, but Phil
was not forthcoming. He had other obligations and that was that.
"Well, since you're not going hunting can we use your cabin?" Fred had
finally come to accept the inevitable and was trying to find something
good to come out of it.
"Sorry Fred, it's already taken."
This sparked a new round of questions, not to mention drinks, but once
again Phil declined to reveal who would be in the hunting cabin while
he shirked his patriotic duty to go out and kill a buck for America.
Did I mention there was a lot of beer flowing? The discussion was
getting pretty silly by this point. Closing time left the boys no wiser
as to what Phil's plans were for Buck Day, so they scattered to their
homes (most fortunately in walking distance, it was a small town) still
scratching their head in curiosity and disbelief.
---
Dorothy kissed Phil goodbye and wished him a pleasant weekend. From the
moment Phil had proposed giving up hunting to spend the weekend as
Phyllis, Dorothy knew just how strong his need to crossdress had
become. Their occasional forays far from home to let Phyllis see the
light of day had vanished with the advent of the kids and small town
life made it impossible for her husband to let his feminine side out of
the closet for more than a few hours at a time under normal
circumstances.
That Phil made a passable woman only made it harder for him in many
ways, looking in the mirror sometimes emphasized what he was missing
all to much. Strangely enough, Dorothy had never minded his obsession
with the female despite her small town upbringing. She kept what she
valued from the overly moralistic Church of her youth while cherishing
the wider world of ideas she had entered with college. She loved living
here and raising their children together, but there were some things
her friends and neighbors would never understand.
Laughing a little at his attempts at secrecy, Phil picked up a rental
car in Williamsport, then made his way to the cabin in the woods. His
own car would be a dead giveaway outside the cabin if anyone he knew
came along, so why take a chance?. Three days alone in the woods to
enjoy life as Phyllis; three days of freedom! He unloaded the little
rental, putting his suitcase on the bed and the ice chest in the
kitchen area by the light of a lantern. No electricity out here, only
wood fires and kerosene stoves and lamps. No phones, his cell was
turned off in his dresser drawer at home, and no distractions from
nature. Feminine nature!
Phil knew the unusually warm weather would annoy his buddies, who were
hoping for snow to track the deer more easily, but he was just as glad
the night was warm and calm; no need to build a fire in the fireplace
tonight. He filled the bottom of the wood fired hot water heater with
kindling and lit a small blaze. While the water was heating he worked
the hand pump to fill the reservoir above the crude shower in the
cabin, then made up the bed with silk sheets and coverlet from the
suitcases. He stripped out of his normal clothes and placed them in the
drawer of the chest by the bed, then filled the other drawers with
Phyllis' clothing for the weekend.
Too bad there wasn't a tub for a bubble bath, but one takes what
pleasures one can when they're offered. He stepped from the shower and
toweled off, still undecided as to what he would wear for the night.
Silly to agonize so over which of the six panties he had brought, but
at last the blue flowered pair were settled on his frame, quickly
followed by it's matching blue bra.
Did pioneer women have matching bra and panty sets, Phyllis wondered.
Not likely, but who cared. With the foam inserts in place and a snuggly
nightgown over her, Phyllis lit a second kerosene lamp and placed it at
the head of the bed. From the cooler she took a bottle of wine, a much
better vintage than she usually drank, filled her glass, then opened a
package of Camembert cheese and some small crackers. No sense in
taking this pioneer stuff too far, was there? She settled into the bed
and drew the coverlet over her breasts and settled in with a good
novel. After a while a glow of immense satisfaction filled her as she
blew out the light and slept soundly.
---
Morning filled the cabin with it's rosy glow, waking Phyllis gently.
Again the joyful agony of picking an outfit delighted her; this time
she chose a long Tweed skirt and bright orange blouse ? on this of all
weekends she didn't want to blend into the woods! While the coffee
warmed she sat on the porch and did her makeup in the bright light of
the sun, then settled the wig on her head and donned an a frilly apron
to keep breakfast from spoiling her outfit. She ate on the porch,
enjoying the songs of the birds and continuing the novel from the
previous evening.
When the dishes were rinsed she donned a sturdy pair of tan hiking
boots and spent the day tramping through the familiar woods,
occasionally seeing a stranger in the distance but otherwise alone. The
season didn't open until Monday so there was little chance of her
hunting buddies finding her in the woods over the weekend. The
sensation of hiking in a skirt, of moving freely with the weight of
breasts firmly on her chest filled her with pleasure as she roamed the
woods. Noon found her on the summit of a hill, overlooking the valley
below as she ate her sandwich and sipped the pure spring water from her
canteen. Life didn't get any better than this!
Dinner was chicken and sliced zucchini roasted over coals outside the
cabin, along with more wine and rice pilaf from the kerosene stove.
Pretty fancy for camp fare, but she had all the time in the world. She
started another novel by the light of the lamps as the light faded and
fell happily to sleep once again in her nightgown.
Sunday was a repeat of Saturday except that she went East along the
trail instead of West. She was just beginning to consider lighting the
lamps when she was interrupted by a crashing in the woods. She stood,
startled, and faced the source of the noise in consternation. Too late
to hide, the stranger lumbering through the woods had seen her.
No ? not a stranger ? it was Lyle! Big, old, drunken, asinine Lyle!
And obviously, drunken Lyle.
"Well hot damn!" he slurred. Ole Phil musta been tellin' the truth
about rentin' the place. Damn fool thing to do on Buck Day, though!"
Phillis stood frozen as she stared at her (his?) best friend. Could he
really be drunk enough that he didn't recognize her?
Ask a stupid question. Of course he was!"
"Can I help you, sir?" she responded coldly. Amazing her voice would
work at all! To steady her nerves she took the glass in her hand,
refilled it from the bottle (pointedly not offering to share!) and took
a sip. "I'm afraid this is private property and you 're trespassing."
"Tresp..." He attempted the word several times but it was beyond his
current abilities. "Aw shit, this her place belongs to my buddy Phil.
I'm just checking up on it for him."
"I'm sure he appreciates your kindness, sir, but I came out here to
enjoy the wilderness in solitude. If you would be so kind..." she
gestured back in the direction he had come from. Damn, she might even
pull this off!
"Jezus, you swallow a dictionary, lady?"
She took another sip of her wine and stared coldly at him. He started
to turn and leave under her continued glare when suddenly his face lit
up.
"Hey, you ain't waiting for ole Phil to come by, maybe?
Now wasn't that the living end? Lyle thought he was meeting himself for
an affair. Dorothy was going to get a great laugh out of this one.
"Who or what I'm waiting for is none of your business, my good man! I
wish you a pleasant good night, sir."
She turned away from Lyle and opened the cabin door. She heard a
lascivious chuckle from Lyle as he took the hint and trundled off. By
the time Lyle had told the story to the boys and the boys got through
with it he was going to have quite a reputation.
Sometimes a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do!
Author's Note - This one was inspired by one of Garrison Kiellor's
monologs on A Prarie Home Companion. I only steal from the best!
Arisha
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