California Who Says Revenge Isnt Sweet
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Life Isn't FairChapter 4 free porn video
Of course it got awkward again. If this was one of those romance novels my mother reads, he would have swept me off my feet and scooped up a pile of newly-mown, fresh-smelling hay to ravish me on. But of course that’s not what this was.
He said, “Thank you. You can put your shirt back on, now.”
I was still giddy with my new-found power, so I decided my tank top was too sweaty and confining, and that if I tied the tails of the long-sleeved shirt together, I could just wear that. Of course that meant my cleavage was on constant display. And I have some cleavage. I don’t need a pushup bra to get that, trust me. I told him why I was doing it, just so he’d know I wasn’t trying to tease him.
He said, “That’s your business,” and we went back to work.
By five that evening the pasture had been cut and raked. When we got back to the barn we were both dusty and tired. You’d think that just sitting on a tractor all day wouldn’t use up a lot of energy, but you’d be wrong about that. It bounces you around constantly, which means your muscles are working to maintain your position and posture constantly. Then you’re turning around all the time, to look at the implement and make sure it’s working properly and that your track is true and all that.
As we headed for the house his eyes flickered to my exposed cleavage.
“Get used to it,” I growled.
“Did I complain?” he asked.
“No, but I know you want to be curmudgeonly about it.”
“Oh, I do, do I?”
“It’s who you are,” I said.
“So, if I suggested we save water and shower together, you wouldn’t believe me?”
Those hairs on the back of my neck tried to stand up, but they were plastered to my skin by sweat and dust.
“You wouldn’t mean it,” I said.
“Are you so sure?”
“I’m not sure about anything,” I said.
“Which is what makes you vulnerable. Hah!” he said, triumphantly.
“If I took this shirt off and shook my boobs at you, would you get a boner?” I asked, turning to face him. My fingers went to the knot that held the shirt together.
“Of course,” he said, his eyes watching my fingers untie the knot.
“Then that makes you vulnerable, too,” I said. “If you can’t control your own body, then you’re vulnerable.”
“It’s not my body I’m worried about,” he said.
“What does that mean?”
“I can make my body behave. But my mind will think what it wants to think, whether I want to think it or not.”
“Do all geezers talk in riddles constantly?” I complained.
“I want to do things to you, Cassie,” he yelled. “I want to do things with you. I want to make you squeal, and beg for more. There! Are you happy now?”
I felt my nipples tingle and suddenly I wanted to squeeze them. But I also knew that he was vulnerable, had just admitted his vulnerability to me. It was incredible, because this man I liked so much, had admitted something that most women would have screamed at him for. But all it did was make me feel wonderful. Talk about a shot in the arm! A grown man, who could have any woman he wanted, wanted me!
“Actually, I am happy,” I said, trying to keep my voice normal. “Thank you for your honesty. I appreciate that. And I’ll try not to tease you.”
“You don’t want to go home?” He sounded astonished.
I looked at him, standing there with my shirt open, but only a few inches.
“Home is the last place I want to go right now,” I said, seriously. “Now, I know I stink, and I’m pretty sure you stink, too. Maybe we can talk about taking showers together later, but for now, let’s just get clean so we can have supper. I’m famished.”
“Cassie.” His voice was weak.
“You feel like you feel,” I said. “I do, too. And that’s fine, okay? We can talk about it more, later. For now, just know that I’m glad I’m here, and can explore and talk about things. Okay?”
“You sure?” he asked.
“I’m sure.”
“Well fuck me to tears,” he sighed.
I slapped him on the shoulder.
“That might be rushing things a bit, don’t you think?” I said.
As I stood under the spray of the shower I put my hands on the wall to support me. I’d felt exhausted, but now that I was clean, I felt better. What I was thinking about were the simply astonishing things I’d said and done, recently. I knew those things had been said and done by me, but it seemed like it must have been some other girl, some stranger who came and pretended to be me.
He was right. I was vulnerable. I was vulnerable to the concept that I could say and do things here that nobody else on the planet would allow me to get away with saying and doing. That freedom, the freedom Uncle Bob was giving me, was intoxicating in a way that lowered my inhibitions. It made me feel bullet proof. I had taken my shirt off, bared my big, troublesome breasts to a man, and it had worked out fine. For maybe the first time in a long time, I was happy with my boobs. The look on his face had been priceless. It had been a little scary. Mixed in with that priceless look had been an element of wolf - hungry wolf - and instinctively I had known that if I’d done this with the wrong man, it could have turned out very, very badly for me.
As my mind went over what I did and didn’t want to happen, the water began to get cold. I turned it off and got out, dripping. After the dusty heat, the coolness of evaporating water on my body felt good. I grabbed a towel and continued my assessment of what I wanted my immediate future to look like.
I knew I wanted to stay a virgin. That much was solid in my mind. After I got over the shock of being half nude in front of him, and then what I suppose was one quarter nude, wearing the shirt that gaped open, I felt exhilarated at the concept of being a woman. I had wanted to feel like a woman for a long time. I had wondered when that would happen, been impatient for it to happen. Then, suddenly, presto! I was there. I had showed a man my breasts and he had salivated over them. I had found a way to have power over a man, and I luxuriated in it.
Of course now that I’m older, I know I had power over men long before this happened. I had power over men before I ever went to the ranch. But that didn’t mean I was a woman. I think the thing that changed for me that summer was that I began to be in control of my own destiny. I was able to make some choices, and they accelerated the maturation process. Someone once told me the first time your heart is broken is when you grow up and see the world as the hostile place it is. I think that’s a little harsh, because it presumes the world is, and always will be, hostile. It also presumes your heart will be broken and I think that’s a sad way to plan for your life.
I’d rather think of it as there being chances for wonderful things to happen, and then enjoying those things to the maximum as long as they last. Of course life won’t be like that all the time, but that doesn’t mean you have to wear armor and be on guard constantly. What I learned that day is that there would probably be times when I needed to be more careful about who I got naked with, or half naked, as it were, but those times wouldn’t be when I was alone with Uncle Bob.
I wished I could see into his brain, to see what he was thinking about. What were those mysterious things he couldn’t help thinking about, that bothered him so much? Was it just sex? If it was, then it seemed like a waste of angst. Wanting to have sex didn’t seem like such a huge deal to me, at that point. I knew it would happen to me some day, but I still believed I would be the master of my ship when it did. As I dried my breasts, I tried to remember deciding to show them to him. It had been a spur-of-the-moment ... moment. I’d been mad at the time. It wasn’t likely I’d be angry at somebody and suddenly decide to have sex with them. I didn’t think the “That will show you!” paradigm would extend to that particular scenario. So while flashing him had been an act of impulse, I didn’t think losing my virginity would be.
I said I was young ... yes?
Anyway, when I left the bathroom and thought about the rest of the evening, I decided to just get into my jammies for supper. I felt more alive, but I knew I was tired, and that we’d probably go to bed pretty soon after we ate. I was pretty sure we’d have another long day tomorrow. They were all that way, mostly. He’d said the hay might be dry enough to go ahead and bale, and while I didn’t know what that entailed, I was pretty sure it would leave me dog tired. I wouldn’t find out for another two weeks that the real work, when it comes to hay, is when you take it out of the field and put it in the barn.
I only had one pair of sexy panties. They were lavender boy shorts, with lace around the leg openings, and they were made of satin. They were, in fact, the panties I was wearing when I went out with Todd in my skirt. The waistband wasn’t super tight, which was why he’d been able to get his hand in them so quickly. I actually got them from Sally Reubin who was given them as a gift by someone she wouldn’t identify (probably her boyfriend). She didn’t want her mother to know about them. It didn’t matter to me, because I did my own laundry. So my mother had no idea I had them.
I put those on and, just for a few seconds, thought about just going out there topless. I knew that wouldn’t play well, though. Uncle Bob had been very tolerant, so far, and I wanted him to stay that way, so I didn’t want to push things. I had no idea that, while I was thinking about things in my shower, he was beating off in his shower. Men are much simpler, as it turns out. He’d been horny all day after seeing my boobs, and so the first thing he did was take care of that, once he was alone. I can’t swear to it, but I think if I had known that, back then, I might have actually done the topless thing. It would have been a mistake, but I might have done it. Looking back at your life that way can make you crazy. You can wonder what might have happened if you’d done B instead of A, but you’ll never know.
I put on a plain, white T shirt, one I’d never wear to work in, because anything I worked in got the kind of dirty that might not come out. I did look in the mirror, this time. The white T was thicker than the tank top, so other than the shape of my ever-stiff nipples, you couldn’t see anything. I think it’s interesting (now) that I never thought even once of putting on a bra to suppress those nipples.
As it happened, I got to the kitchen before he did, so I was working on boiling pasta for tuna and noodles when he appeared. He had on running shorts and a T shirt which, to my mind, seemed like parity. He could see my legs, and I could see his. Even Steven, right?
I said I was young ... yes?
He didn’t say anything, probably because his penis was so recently emptied and comfortably soft. Parity aside, I looked at him with new eyes. His legs were really white, but they were muscled. He didn’t have a pot belly in any way, shape or form. I wasn’t sure how old he was, except that he was my mother’s older brother and my mother was thirty-four. Once again, my mouth ran away with me as the freedom to say whatever was on my mind exerted itself.
“You’re not bad looking for a geezer,” I said, looking over my shoulder at him.
Another note about my appearance. I haven’t cut my hair (other than to trim off split ends) since I was ten. My hair is neither thick, nor heavy, and it doesn’t bother me when it hangs down. When I put it in a ponytail it’s getting to the point where I need to have intermediate fasteners on it (one every four or six inches), if I don’t want it to whip around in the wind. I hadn’t put it up when I got out of the shower. I was lucky that it dried straight. It was still damp, then, but just hanging down my back. Because it was damp, it had sort of stuck to my shirt and pulled it up just enough that the lavender boy shorts were displaying my butt to him. I had never heard the term “bubble butt” back then, but later that’s what he said I had.
“You’re trying to give me a heart attack, aren’t you,” he said, calmly. “You want me to keel over so you can take over the ranch and live the life of a gentlewoman farmer.”
I laughed.
“If I owned this ranch, nothing would ever get done. There’s way too much work here for just one person.” I thought about that. “In fact, I don’t understand how you got everything done before I got here.”
“I’ve spent a lot of time teaching you things,” he said. “If I hadn’t spent all that time teaching you, I could have gotten the work done by myself.”
“But why do you want to be by yourself?” I asked. “Obviously you like women. And like I said, you’re not ugly. So how come you don’t have a girlfriend, or even a wife?”
“I had a girlfriend, but it didn’t work out. It was so unhappy I decided not to go through that again.”
“Why didn’t it work out?”
“She slept with my best friend.”
“Oh.”
“So not only did I lose her, I lost my best friend, too. Seemed like a lot of turmoil over something I could live without.”
“So you don’t do anything with women?”
“If that’s a veiled question about my sexual habits, they’re none of your business,” he said.
“That’s not fair,” I said, automatically.
“I’ve noticed that practically nothing is fair, as far as you’re concerned,” he said.
“That’s not fair, either,” I said, intentionally. “All I do is point out when things aren’t in balance. Your life isn’t in balance. You should have a woman to be in love with.”
“I do just fine by myself,” he said.
I was on a roll. This just saying whatever came into your mind was really fun!
“You mean like when I spied on you? I’ve never had sex, but I can still tell it would be more fun with two people than it is by yourself.”
“I’m beginning to understand why your parents sent you here,” he sighed.
I turned around. The pasta was simmering and would be fine without me for five minutes.
“My parents sent me here because they wouldn’t listen to me. The reason I like it here, is because you will listen to me, at least sometimes. I don’t think you understand how relieved I feel to be able to stand here and talk about this stuff.”
“I get that,” he said. “What I don’t get is why you also feel like it’s okay to flash your boobs at me, and parade around in sexy panties in front of me.”
“Do you think they’re sexy?” I asked, pulling the shirt up so he could see the front. “They’re the only really frilly pair I have.”
Liesl
- 05.03.2020
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