Rhonda Lawrence was sitting in bed with her laptop perched on her knees. She was reading a dirty story, something she was not totally comfortable with but had been reverting to for stimulation in the past few months. She had found Lush Stories after a friend of a friend let slip she had visited the site. The story she had opened before her was by one of her favourite authors, Mingemuncher. It was about a young girl going away on a sailing trip with some guys.
The story’s main protagonist, Veronique, was on a beach being photographed by one of the guys she was sailing with, and you didn’t need to be a brain surgeon to know that in the following two or three paragraphs, she was going to get fucked. Maybe, Rhonda hoped, by both the guys. More and more, Rhonda found herself searching for stories that had threesomes or group sex, especially with wives involved. This genre was far removed from the reality of her own life and made her uncomfortable, but reading stories with multiple partners turned her on more than she would have believed.
Rhonda was aware that her fingers had slid into the slippery mess between her legs. She glanced down and watched them sliding through her bright red curls. Her pubic hair was more vivid than the long burgundy curls touching her shoulder. She didn’t go near her clit, it was much too soon to go near that. She felt around her opening, but again, she resisted plunging her fingers in and bringing herself off too soon. She craved release but wanted to hold off the exquisite rush for as long as possible.
Her mind drifted. Had she ever come close to having sex on a beach when she was younger? She was sure she hadn’t. And there had never been the slightest possibility of having two men at once. Hell, she had only ever had one man. She had started dating Harry when she was barely legal, had gotten pregnant, and had to get married. Their son, Michael, was born five months after the wedding, and Gemma and Ian followed soon after.
‘Bugger’, she thought. Her mind had wandered, and the impending orgasm receded. She refocused, found where she was up to in the story and continued reading.
“Aaron kissed me hard, quite obviously – my tasting myself on Ryker’s fingers turned him on. And I felt myself become aroused with this knowledge, and I greedily returned to sucking Ryker’s fingers clean. He withdrew his fingers, and I continued attacking Aaron’s tongue. I felt Ryker pushing his fingers between my legs again. He worked them around, not to get more juices this time, but instead, it seemed he was working at making me more aroused.
‘Shit!’ Rhonda exclaimed. She was about to cum, her fingers had spontaneously slipped inside, and her hips were bucking against their every thrust. As the orgasm built, she let her thumb rub against her clit. Rhonda imagined herself on the beach, with Ryker and Aaron scandalously driving her to a climax. She changed hands and plunged her creamy, wet fingers into her mouth. It was the first time she’d ever tasted herself, and her orgasm came on her like a derailing freight train. It was the strongest orgasm she’d ever experienced. Her scream of ecstasy was interrupted by a yelp of pain as she involuntarily bit down on her fingers. The laptop fell to the floor and started beeping, with one of the keys stuck down.
Catching her breath, she retrieved the laptop and turned it off. She lay on the bed thinking about her life. She was in a rut and becoming increasingly frustrated as the years rolled by. She needed to change things. Ten years ago, when the financial pressures of raising children peaked, she’d gotten a job at a bookshop. Harry, her husband, worked as a bar manager, the only job he’d ever had. The term ‘Manager’ might be taken to mean he was well paid. This was not the case. His earnings were average, and they had struggled with the expense of raising three children. School fees, uniforms, sports gear, and the mortgage forced Rhonda to find a job as soon as their youngest was able to be left in the care of the two older siblings.
They lived in Morrinsville, a small town supplying the farms of the Hauraki plains. She got a job in a bookshop on the main street. The job was a massive change from being stuck at home with a young family. She remembered the early thrill of meeting new people every day. She’d bought new clothes with her first two wage packets, making Harry jealous. He’d accused her of dressing up for other men. Chance would be a fine thing. But over the last ten years, long hours and minimum wages, her enthusiasm for the job had waned. The work was far from what she imagined when leaving school. Then, she dreamed of becoming a personal assistant to some high-flying Auckland executive who would whisk her away on overseas trips.
Her youngest, Ian, had gone flatting with some mates seven months earlier. Harry started work at midday and seldom got home before midnight. Their paths rarely crossed these days, as her hours were 9:00 to 5:00, Tuesday to Saturday. So the only time they had to themselves was Sunday. Far too often these days, she found Harry doing things with his mates on Sundays, and she would meet with their wives. Rhonda was thirty-nine and felt like her life was slipping away without her doing or achieving anything of note.
Slipping from her daydream, Rhonda slid out of bed. She opened the windows to rid the room of the pungent smell of sex. It was only 9:30 pm, so Harry wouldn’t be home for another two hours at the earliest. She wondered about staying up and trying to entice him into having sex when he got home. But he’d been too tired the last few times Rhonda had tried and got grumpy with her. Also, he sometimes arrived much later, so she didn’t fancy waiting up only to find him sneaking in long after midnight. She wondered if he was messing around with someone from the Pub. But apart from those odd late nights, she’d seen no evidence of his playing around. Unless his lack of interest in sex these days was an obvious sign? Rhonda did wonder why she was not upset by the thought that he may have another woman. A few years earlier, that thought would have messed with her head. But now she felt nothing more than a minor irritation at such thoughts, more to do with the fact he may be getting the sex that she wasn’t.
She showered and got herself ready for bed. Tomorrow was Saturday and was her busiest day, so she needed to get some shuteye. But sleep wouldn’t come, and she lay awake for the next hour or more thinking about her boring life. She’d been a good girl until she’d met Harry. He’d been worldly-wise and worked in a pub, such a sinful, exciting place for a young, innocent girl from a sheltered upbringing. And she’d succumbed to his charms way too quickly. She regretted that now. She’d never experienced any of the things she’d been reading about this last year. She’d never had anyone lick her pussy. She’d never been fucked in the ass, or for that matter, not even had another man see her naked. Many of these experiences were of her own choice. Harry had tried to get her to experiment, but her upbringing would not let her comply. Rhonda fell asleep, wondering if she’d ever experienced any of the filthy things she read about and now wished she had done.
——
Rhonda woke early. Harry was lightly snoring beside her. She hadn’t heard him arrive home. She knew he didn’t wake up easily. Still, she quietly eased herself from the bed, grabbed the clothes she would wear to work that day, and headed to the bathroom to dress. He was still asleep when she left just after 8:00, so she figured he must have gotten home late.
It was only a five-minute drive to the shop, but after the previous night’s story and her fantastic climax, Rhonda wondered who she might see that day. She’d been eyeing some male customers and picturing them doing unthinkable things lately. It helped the day pass more quickly. Luckily, the bookshop owner, Grayson, was in his mid-seventies and never seemed to notice her blushing retreats to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face after serving some of her more eligible customers.
The morning was quiet, but one of her regulars walked into the shop just after midday. Doug McKenzie came in twice a month to collect his magazines. Even though he was handsome, he was a bit older, so she’d never given him much thought. But today, her body tingled as he approached, and taking in his rugged good looks, she imagined herself wrapped in his arms. She threw him a smile and, feeling herself beginning to colour up, she turned away quickly, pretending to search the racks for his order.
There was nothing there. She knew there wouldn’t be, as he’d collected his magazines the previous Saturday. When she turned back to inform him that there was nothing, she saw he was holding out a card to her.
“I’m wondering if I can place this in your window. I need to employ a woman to work on the farm.”
“Of course,” stammered Rhonda. “It’s five dollars for the first week and two dollars for any following weeks.”
Rhonda looked at the card. Doug stuck his hand in his pocket for his wallet. The card read that he wanted a woman for light work at Stirling Station. The woman must be in good health and physically sound, as the work is physical and involves some lifting. The address was out by the Kaimai Ranges, and Doug’s name and mobile number were typed below the message.
Rhonda looked around to see if Grayson was still out back and asked, “What does the work involve? I could be interested.”
Doug looked at her, “I don’t think it would be for you. You’re much too cultivated to be mucking out and working on a farm.” Then, seeing her disappointed look, he stammered out. “Look. You’re a fine-looking woman, but do you know how messy and smelly a farm can be? Also, I have a couple of boys working for me, and the language is often pretty rough.”
Rhonda had dreamed about leaving the bookshop, but until this minute, it had been nothing but a hopeless desire. She had no idea what she would be qualified to do. She had been at the top of her class in high school and was destined to go to university. But getting pregnant had quashed that dream. So this looked like the opportunity of her lifetime. She loved animals and was not afraid of hard work.
She stood up straight and stared into his eyes. “I’m not afraid of hard work, and the smells can’t be worse than the multitude of nappies I’ve changed. I need to get out of this shop. It’s boring me to tears. Could I come and see what the job involves?”
Looking uncertain, Doug asked, “What day can you come?”
“Monday would be good. I don’t work on Mondays.”
“Alright, Monday it is then. Do you have any gumboots? I have some that might fit if you don’t. And wear older clothes. Nothing like the pretty dress you’re wearing. Although there should be some overalls in the barn, you could use to protect your clothes.”
“What will I be doing?”
A man of few words, Doug had already said more than Jenny had ever heard from him. He looked to be deciding what to say. Then his shoulders slumped in resignation, and he opened up, “My wife has left me. She ran the roadside stall. I’d close it down, but I’ve had customers complaining, so I figure if I got a woman to stock it and help with the chooks, etc., I could keep the Stall running.”
Rhonda realised she had visited the Stall once. It was on the road from Te Aroha to Paeroa, and she had bought some eggs there some months back. She had meant to call in again for eggs and veggies but had never returned.
“I know where you are. I’ve bought eggs from you in the past. What time should I come?”
Can you leave it until after lunch? I’ll be out moving stock all morning.”
Doug went to hand her the $5.00, but Rhonda waved it away. “I’ll place the advert in the window if I’m uninterested. I don’t want someone else to get the job ahead of me,” she grinned, sliding the card into her pocket.
The rest of the afternoon flew by. Rhonda was so excited. She had not asked about hours and wages, but she wasn’t too worried, as they didn’t really need her to work now that the kids had left the roost. She didn’t say a thing to Grayson and decided that she wouldn’t mention anything to Harry about the job until she’d been out to the farm, as she knew he wouldn’t approve.
After an early lunch on Monday, Rhonda was glad to get on the road. She’d dressed in Jeans and her oldest jumper but had spent some time on her makeup. It seemed stupid to make herself up to work on a farm, but she wanted to make a good impression. It took her just over thirty minutes to get to Stirling Station. She glanced at the Veggie Stall as she turned into the drive. It had a few veggies and trays of eggs on the shelves.
She parked in front of the house, wondering where to go. Off to the left, a large dog came barking from the barn. She loved dogs and was not concerned about climbing out to greet it. However, once the dog got closer, she saw it was a huge cattle dog that looked daunting. Doug appeared from behind a horse he’d been rubbing down, let out a piercing whistle, and yelled, “Sit, Mac.” The dog dropped to its haunches, tail wagging furiously.
“Hi! That was good timing. I’ve not long gotten back from the hills. I have to put Betty out in the field, then I’ll be right with you.”
Rhonda gasped as Mac stepped between them and shoved his muzzle into her crotch.
“Cut that out, Mac. He likes you; that’s a good sign,” he laughed.
Rhonda followed him to the horse, and Doug handed her the lead. Then he strode ahead to open the gate. She fought to hold back her panic. It was the first horse she’d ever touched. But the big mare just nuzzled her shoulder and, seemingly satisfied with what she had smelled, snorted and let Rhonda lead her to the field.
“You’re good around horses. Have you ridden much?”
“I’ve never touched one before. I wanted a pony when I was younger, but my family never had the money.”
“We’ll have to teach you to ride then.” Doug turned and strode towards the house. Rhonda followed and sped up to walk beside him. Doug asked if she’d had lunch. She told him she had, and he asked if she minded waiting while he made something for himself.
“You can ask me questions while I cook.”
Rhonda sat in the kitchen for the next thirty minutes and watched Doug fried eggs, sausages, and bacon. She asked him what hours he wanted her to work and what wages he would offer.
“You can work what hours you need to, but I think five days and five hours a day. If you could work Saturdays, that would be great, as that is the busiest day. $20.00 per hour is the going rate these days, and you can fill your car up on the Station’s account to cover your petrol. One of your main jobs will be looking after the chooks. They’re messy, smelly little fuckers, but their eggs are the main money earner at the Stall.”
He suddenly snapped his head around and apologised for his language. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’ve never had a posh beauty like you in the house before.”
“What about your wife? Did you not have to mind your language in front of her?”
“Shirley! Your joking. She could swear worse than me.”
“I’m not really that posh. I won’t get upset by a little rough language as long as it’s not directed at me.” She blushed beetroot red as she said this, but Doug had turned back to the stove and didn’t notice. The fact was, she got quite turned on by stories that had men calling the women all sorts of unthinkable names.
As she went to change the subject, Doug whispered, “I’ll attempt to tone my language down. Then, louder. Now, where were we? Oh, you’re welcome to take some eggs and veggies from the Stall. We always seem to have stuff that doesn’t get sold. I hate to see it go to waste.”
Rhonda had to clamp her eyes closed and bite her bottom lip, or she would have let out an embarrassing guffaw of joy. He was offering $7.00/hour better than what she earned in the bookstore. Plus fewer hours, free petrol and veggies. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hug him to death.
After he had eaten, Doug led her out the back door and showed her the veggie patches. There were four large cultivated areas. One was sweetcorn, only about a foot high, but she was unsure about the other patches.
“That’s potatoes,” Doug said. Then, pointing to the largest patch that looked freshly turned, “The boys and I ran the backhoe through that last weekend and planted kumara. You know, sweet potato. The potatoes, kumara and corn should all be ready in early December.”
“Our three big sellers are the eggs, new potatoes at Christmas, and sweetcorn. Shirley kept the garden, and those other two patches are carrots, cabbages, silverbeet, etc., but they might be a bit much for you. Let’s go look at the chooks.”
As Rhonda walked alongside him, she explained that she’d never done much gardening but had always wanted to. So, I may need to ask a lot of questions at first. Is that a problem?”
“No, it’s not very busy at present, so I can give you some time next week. I just need to go up into the high country now and again to check on the boys. They mostly mend fences and stay at the shearing shed this time of year. The boys will be down on Friday to go chase fillies in town. So if you are around, you’ll meet them then.”
“Do you have children?” Rhonda asked.
“Yes. A boy and two girls. The girls never got on with their mother and cleared off as soon as they left school. Lizzy is married to a farmer down in Whakatane. Susan is married to a guy who owns an orchard near Te Puke, and Michael works in Hamilton at the Ruakura Research Centre. He’s doing research into new pastures. I see a lot more of him than I do the girls. Although that may change now that Shirley has cleared off.”
“What about you?” Doug asked.
“We have three as well. Our oldest is also called Michael. He’s working for an Electrician in Morrinsville. Gemma is at the University in Auckland. She has all the brains, and Ian, the youngest, has just started a plumbing apprenticeship and is flatting over in Tauranga.”
“Don’t put yourself down. You’re intelligent. I’ve watched you toting up numbers and giving change in the bookshop without even looking at a calculator. Not something I’m good at. Also, I heard you do the books for Grayson. Is that right?”
“I do. That is the most enjoyable part of my job these days.”
“Might ask you to look at mine then, as paperwork is not my forte. Shirley handled all that.”
They wandered to a large building next to the barn, where lots of machinery was parked. Doug directed her to what looked like a Golf Cart. It was a Ranger farm vehicle with a tray at the back.
“This is yours. You can load it up and take stuff down to the Stall.” He showed her how to start it and let her drive him behind the barn. She parked beside a long shed that opened onto the field next to the one where the horses roamed. There were more chickens in the field than she had ever seen in one place before.
“I think we have more than fifty at present. They spent the next hour raking up old hay, distributing feed and collecting eggs from the chook house. The hay went onto a pile, which Doug explained was spread around the garden, and the veggies rocketed out of the ground to escape the smell. Once they had cleaned up, they loaded the trays of eggs onto the back of the farm buggy and drove down to the roadside stall.
They emptied the Honesty Box. There was $47.00. Doug explained that that was three days’ worth, which he thought was pretty good for this time of year. Then he mumbled something about Shirley having been milking the cash. Rhonda asked him what he meant, and he replied that in the last month, the returns had been better than she had been showing him, so at a rough estimate, he thought she must have been sticking half the cash in her own pocket.
They stacked the egg trays and removed some old products past their use-by date. But they took the bulk of the eggs back to the barn, where Doug loaded them into a large chiller until needed. Then he told her that was enough for the day and asked if she was sure she wanted the job.
“Oh, yes. I’m looking forward to it.” Looking at her watch, she saw that it was already 4:00. “I’d better get back to town and hand my notice in. I don’t know how Grayson is going to take it.” Then she added. “I’ll see if Grayson will let me finish at the end of the week and could start next Monday if that suits you?”
Rhonda drove straight back to the bookshop. Greyson had just shut up shop, but she waved to him through the door, and he let her in. Anxiously, she explained she was handing in her notice and was rather surprised at how well he took the news. He explained that he had the shop on the market and had been worrying about telling her. He said the shop had been losing money for two years, and he was struggling to cover her wages. They agreed that she would finish in two days, Wednesday evening.
As Rhonda drove away, she realised Greyson was probably over the moon, as he would not need to pay her any redundancy. She did not want to go home to an empty house, so she turned around and drove back towards the Pub, deciding to have dinner with Harry and give him the news about her new job. She was expecting him to hit the roof, and so telling him at the Pub would mean he’d have to tone down his response.
Parking around the back, she texted Doug and told him she could start working this Thursday if he wanted her. She got a reply from Doug as she was stepping through the Pub’s front door.
His text was brief. “Great, see you then. I’ll wait at the house until you arrive.”
Rhonda entered and approached the bar. She caught Harry’s eye and asked when he was having his break.
“Thirty minutes. Do you want a drink while you wait?”
“I’ll have a white wine.”
With her wine in hand, she wandered over to a table at the back and watched Harry working. Only a dozen people were in the bar, as it was early and a Monday. She eyed up the other two staff behind the bar. One was a pretty twenty-year-old blond, the other was a redhead like herself, but maybe ten years younger. She watched to see if there was any interaction or attraction that would indicate that Harry was having an affair. But she didn’t see anything obvious.
A guy approached and asked if he could sit with her. She waved him into the seat opposite but only half listened to him, her attention still fixed on the bar. He explained he was a salesman from Auckland and could do with some company. Rhonda turned to him and mentioned she’d only be there for thirty minutes. Undeterred, he introduced himself as Jim and began trying to chat her up. She only half listened and gave one-word answers as she watched Harry wander over to stand by the redhead.
Rhonda turned her head to Jim but kept the bar in her peripheral vision and saw Harry point her out to the redhead. Laughing at his remark, the redhead turned to Harry and placed her hand on his shoulder. That move and the look she gave him told Rhonda there was indeed something happening between them. A flare of annoyance burned her gut. She was surprised to find she was not jealous, just pissed off at all the years she had wasted.
Jim made a comment that Rhonda did not catch.
“What did you say,” she asked.
“I asked if you were doing anything after your drink.”
She studied him for a moment, wondering if she could bring herself to drag him up to his room and fuck him stupid. God, it would be good to watch Harry’s face as she left the bar with the salesman. But that was not who she was, and Jim was not her type, whatever her type was.
So she responded more harshly than she should have, “Look, Jim, you’re wasting your time. I’m married, as I’m sure you can see by the rings on my fingers. My husband is over at the bar, and I’m counting the seconds before he comes over and empties a pint over your head.”
Without a word, Jim picked up his glass and walked away. She’d had plenty of men make a pass at her over the years, But this was the quickest she’d ever managed to get rid of one.
Harry came over minutes later. “What did you say to lover boy? He took off in a hurry.”
“I told him you had a shotgun under the bar and had a short fuse.”
Harry laughed and said to finish her drink. He was ready for dinner. They used to dine together a lot at the Pub in the first few years of their marriage, but they only did it on special occasions these days. So, her coming in on a Monday night was unusual, and she wondered why he did not seem more concerned about her showing up.
As they sat, Harry asked her, “What is the special occasion? You’ve not come to the Pub unannounced in years.”
Rhonda explained that she had just handed in her notice and told him about her going to work out on the farm. She expected him to oppose her move and was surprised that all he asked was why. She explained that Grayson was selling the shop and that a client had placed an advert in their window. His lack of interest made her realise how far out of touch they were with one another. She wondered, with a start, if Harry was planning to leave her. But she held off accusing him of cheating, knowing he’d only deny it, and she had no more evidence than a casual guilty glance between him and the redhead. Still, she couldn’t stop asking about the ladies behind the bar and learned that the redhead was called Liz.
Driving home after dinner, she wondered how to discover more about Liz. Then she decided it may be easier for all concerned if Harry did run off with another woman, as she could start anew and probably come out of the marriage in a better financial position. Still, she struggled to sleep that night, and evil thoughts about what she could do to Harry put her mind in turmoil.
——
Thursday finally came, and Rhonda was on the road just after 7:00 am. She left the house early so as not to explain to Harry what she was doing that day. When she arrived at the farm, she was unsurprised to find Doug waiting for her on the front porch.
“Morning,” he yelled as she slid from her seat. “I have to get the boys started on some new fences in a minute, but I will be back for lunch to see if you have any questions. Can you manage on your own for a while until I get back?”
“Yes. I’m fine,” Rhonda replied.
Doug took her inside and gave her a set of keys. “One is for the back door of the house. I’ve lost the front door key. But I seldom bother to lock up. This key is for your Ranger. That little one is for the cash box, where we put the takings Monday arvo. And the key next to that is for the honesty box.” Then, pointing to a couple of sheets of paper on the Kitchen table, “If you finish everything, could you go into Te Aroha and get those supplies? Take cash from the tin.”
Rhonda had finished her chores before 9:00 and entered the house to get the shopping lists. The cash tin was on a roll-top desk in what had once been his wife’s office. She noticed quite a few unpaid bills and unopened letters on the desktop. Suspecting some would need to be paid, she opened all the envelopes and placed the contents in order of importance. Rhonda was no accountant but had always done the books for Greyson, so accounting wasn’t a total mystery. She quickly assessed that Doug had touched nothing since his wife had left, and as she worked, she found more and more that needed attention.
Engrossed in the financial disarray, she looked in the bottom cupboard of the writing desk and lifted out the foolscap box labelled “Current.” She was interested to see how Shirley had filed previous accounts and what system she should follow. It didn’t take her long to find that there had been some large withdrawals, and she did not see any invoices to cover them.
She pulled out another foolscap file from that year and studied its contents to ascertain when these undocumented withdrawals began. Thoroughly engrossed, she gave a start as Doug leaned over her shoulder. Embarrassed, she tried to apologise, “Oh, I’m so sorry. You must think I’m terribly nosy, but I saw all these unpaid bills.”
Doug motioned her to relax, asking her to fill him in, “I hate anything to do with figures. Shirley handled all that, and I’ve been putting off going near them. So, if you can understand it all, I might need someone else to do the roadside stall.”
“The chooks only take an hour or so. Do you realise Shirley took some money when she left? There is quite a bit missing from what I can see.”
“No, but that wouldn’t surprise me. Shirley took off one weekend when I was fishing with some mates over the Mount. I returned to find her, and all her clothes had gone. To be honest, I’ve been afraid to look at what else she may have taken.”
He took the papers from her hand and laid them on the desk, “Let’s go have lunch. I can see you haven’t done the shopping, and it’s almost noon. I need to get some supplies up to the boys this afternoon.”
Doug drove Rhonda into Te Aroha in his pick-up. They went to the garage first and filled up his Ute. He introduced Rhonda to the attendant and authorised her to fill her Mini there. Then they went to the supermarket, and Doug got a hold of Eddy, the manager, and told him Rhonda would be coming in for supplies from now on, and it was OK to place them on his account. Eddy gave Doug some shit about him moving in with another woman so soon. He told Rhonda she was too good for Doug and, with a cheeky grin, said to her that she’d be much better off with a supermarket owner.
Doug coloured up and bit. He denied there was anything between them. Telling Eddy that she was happily married and just his new employee. They left the lists of supplies, saying they’d be back within the hour to collect everything. With Eddy grinning like a Cheshire Cat and winking at her, they left the store and drove to a local cafe where they ordered sandwiches and coffee.
Once they were sitting by a window, Rhonda asked, “Is Eddy a mate? He enjoyed winding you up. And seemed to know you well.”
“Not really a mate, but I went to school with him. You’ll find everyone knows everyone around here. It’s likely that anyone our age around here will have attended school with me. So it’s no surprise they all know that Shirley has cleared off. Most would not be surprised. I doubt many thought we would last this long.”
“Why, what was Shirley like?” Rhonda asked.
“Well, I always thought she was a prude. She was certainly always tight with all her favours. Many of my mates tried to bed her back in the day and got rejected outright. She had a reputation for being a cocktease. I always fancied Abby Marbray from school, but she took up with the local Casanova, Avery Norman. When Shirley returned from University, she pursued me until we married. The marriage was alright for five or six years, then it went downhill. But the last ten years have been a nightmare, so I’m pretty glad she’s gone.”
“Do you know who she left with?”
“Yeh, I said my son works at the Ruakura Research Centre. He brought some of his workmates out here a few months ago. I understand she has cleared off with one of them. He’s a few years younger than her, and Michael thinks they have gone to Australia.
On the drive back to the farm, Rhonda asked about the accountant.
Doug replied that he was another mate from his school days. “He’s more Shirley’s friend than mine. But we see a bit of him and his wife, as they have a holiday home near ours, at the Mount. Why do you ask?”
“Because he should have picked up on the irregularities I have found. I wondered if he was in cahoots with your wife.”
“I doubt it. His firm is very reputable. His offices are in Hamilton, but he lives in Morrinsville. His name is Bruce Norton. Do you know him?”
“No, but you need to get onto him rather quickly and ensure she hasn’t left you liable. I’d be worried about the tax implications.”
“I’ll call him when we get back and see if he can call in. I’ll get you to talk with him, though, as I don’t understand all that shit.”
For the rest of the drive, Rhonda sat quietly, mulling over what Doug had told her. The accountant had to know. If she had noticed things, there was no way he hadn’t.
Doug pulled alongside Rhonda’s Mini and told her she could go home. But she said she’d unpack the groceries, so he helped carry them into the house and then left to take the boys’ supplies up to them.
After putting the food away, Rhonda decided to head home and look through the accounts again the next day. Doug caught her as she was walking out to her car and said Bruce would be coming out to visit them on Monday.
That seemed strange to her. Accountants rarely visited their clients. “How did you get him to make a house call? That is unusual.”
“Oh, he was often out visiting Shirley. I’ve come down from the hills and found them sitting, reviewing the accounts. I think it’s easier for him to drive the 15 minutes to ours than getting Shirley to go all the way to Hamilton.”
Rhonda left it at that, but she wasn’t convinced. She felt Doug was being a little naive.
On Friday, Rhonda hurried through her chores, entered the office, and pulled all the old tax returns from the cupboards. As she pulled the last box out, she found an envelope that had dropped from the above shelves. The envelope was custom printed with Bruce Norton Accountants and their address. So she opened it. Sure enough, there was an invoice inside. She saw that it was for $400.00 and dated January of the year before. She noted no writing on the envelope, so she knew it must have been hand-delivered. As she flicked the sheet over to see if there was a description of what the bill was for, a sheet of writing paper dropped out. It looked like a poem and read.
Mesmerised by your Beauty
I kneel between your legs.
Taking in your beauty.
Curtains not properly closed.
Letting the world we hide from shine through.
A shaft of light, highlighting your curves.
The swell of your breasts, covered in my teeth marks.
You swelling mound, abused and raw.
Covered in my copious spending.
I dip my fingers….. Shit, I can’t read this. Ronda dropped the sheet. It fluttered to the floor. She felt guilty about reading someone else’s private mail. But she had also gotten wet between her legs at the erotic implications. She picked it up and used her phone to snap a photo of it, then re-folded the sheet, but not before she saw it was signed, your horny lover, Bruce. She might read it all later, but not here in the office.
God, how embarrassing.
She opened the foolscap folder dated January of the previous year and searched to find out if the bill had been paid. It did not take her long to find that it had and that Bruce had been invoicing them every month.
Rhonda grabbed all the records from that year, left Doug a note telling him she’d gone to work on the accounts at home and carried them to her car.
She spent the afternoon sorting through the files. She found many instances of money being withdrawn without paperwork to cover them. She had a lot of thinking to do. She didn’t know how or if she should tell Doug about his unfaithful wife. Ultimately, she decided to leave things until she talked with the despicable Bruce.
Saturday, Rhonda was out the door and on her way to the farm not long after daylight. She spent the morning restocking the eggs, etc. There were many more people than she expected, and she soon concluded that many had popped by just to check her out. One of them, a well-dressed woman in her fifties, asked her where Doug was.
Rhonda explained he was out up in the hills fencing. The woman made no secret of quizzing her about her intentions with Doug, and Rhonda understood the woman was not too happy with her appearing on the scene.
When Doug arrived at noon, Rhonda put some effort into making him a nice lunch. Her competitive instincts flared, even though she had no designs on Doug.
She asked him about the woman. “Nora was here getting eggs. Although I’m certain that’s not the only reason she was here. I think she wants to get you down the aisle.”
“Oh god,” Doug responded. “I slept with her in our teens, and she has pestered me ever since. It was the stupidest thing I ever did. Can you tell her I’m not interested if she comes again?”
“I’m not fighting those battles for you. You need to sort the poor, lovestruck woman out. She also asked why there was no fruit on the stand. She said she always buys the apples.”
“Shit, that’s another story. But I don’t want to saddle you with that.”
“I can’t do the job if you’re too scared to face things and keep me in the dark. Where did the fruit come from, and can I get some to put on the stand?”
“Shit,” Doug exclaimed again. “Shirley got it from Avery, the Casanova I told you about. He and Abby own an orchard about three miles over that way.” He said, pointing to the west.
“I have had my suspicions this year about how she got him to sell stuff to her, as he also sells his products directly. And as it’s not on the Main Rd like mine, I’m sure he sees us as opposition.”
“Well, give me the address, and I’ll go talk to him.”
“I don’t want you going anywhere near him. Right from our school days, he had a reputation with the girls. Later on, he had dances at his barn. He’d dress up like Elvis and had the only band in the area. The girls seemed to love him.”
“Shirley? Was she one of his admirers?”
“God, no. Shirley always made out she despised him. But a couple of years ago, she began going over there to get fruit, and I began to get suspicious. But I still can’t believe she did anything. She hates sex, and two years ago, we got invited to one of his special parties. She kicked up a real stink and wouldn’t go. Said he was a creepy bastard. So I can’t believe she was seeing him for that.”
“What do you mean by special parties?” Rhonda asked, pretty sure she knew. It sounded like some of the stuff she had read about lately.
“You know. The guests put their keys in a bowl, and the wives pick out the man they want to go with.”
“No. I don’t know. I’ve never been to anything like that. Were you keen to attend?”
Doug looked as guilty as hell, “Yes, I was interested in having a look. I don’t know if I could do anything more than look. I’d not been getting any sex at home, and Avery’s wife, Abby, would have been there. I have always fancied her. But as I say, Shirley wouldn’t consider it, so I really don’t know what happens at the parties.”
Rhonda drove home that afternoon, feeling very horny. She knew she had given Doug the impression that she was not enthusiastic about the wife-swapping parties. Whereas in reality, she’d secretly love to go to one. She was silently kicking herself for not being able to be honest with people and exposing her secret desires.
She climbed into bed that night and searched out a story tagged “wife swapping.” But it wasn’t well written, so she pulled out her phone and looked up the poem that Bruce had written to Shirley. That wasn’t that well written either, but she imagined the sex that inspired his ramblings and soon was working magic with her fingers.
She woke early on Sunday morning and stayed in bed, thinking she may entice Harry into having some morning sex. But by 8:00, he was still lightly snoring, so she arose and made coffee. He turned up in the kitchen before she could take a coffee up to him. Dressed only in a tee-shirt with no knickers on, she pulled some suggestive poses. Trying to indicate she was interested. But he didn’t seem to notice, and when he did look her way, he told her to put on some clothes as his mates were on the way to pick him up for golf.
Rhonda was annoyed—the prick. She thought about meeting the guys at the door, dressed as she was, but she chickened out, reasoning that their wives, her friends, would be more upset than Harry.
Rhonda had just finished the dishes when she heard Mason, Dylan, and Mark arrive. She raced to the bedroom to get dressed. She heard Mark asking Harry where she was. Mark constantly flirted with her. He was the only man Harry had ever tolerated showing an interest in her. Mark’s wife, Ashley, was her best friend. She decided to go see her that morning, and so she threw the jeans and jumper back on the bed and donned a skirt and blouse instead.
But once the guys had departed, she had second thoughts. She couldn’t open up to Ashley. She’d be too embarrassed. She realised that Janet and Jean fell into the same category, and they would probably tell their husbands. Then she thought about Marie, who was new to their group. She was the one who told them about the Lush Stories site. Rhonda didn’t know her well, as Marie and her husband, John, had only moved to Morrinsville months before. But that might be good. Marie had been born in New Zealand to Lebanese parents, and she had joked one night about having hot Mediterranean blood, so it might be easier to open up to her.
She weighed up all her other options, people she could visit and talk to. She could not think of anyone and didn’t want to spend the day alone, so she searched for Marie’s number and called her.
Marie was happy to hear from her. She said she had been wondering what to do with her day, as John had taken their son to Hamilton for a rugby tournament. Rhonda had only been to Marie’s house once before. John was a lawyer, and they were much better off than Harry and her. They had an expensive home on the outskirts of Morrinsville, overlooking flat farmland.
Marie met her at the door and led Rhonda through to a courtyard enclosed on three sides by the house’s wings.
“It’s such a lovely day; I thought we would sit out here where it’s sheltered. If you are cold, say, and we’ll go to the lounge. Do you want something to drink?”
It was a bit early for Rhonda, but with what she wanted to discuss, maybe a drink was not such a bad idea, “It’s a bit early. But I’ll have whatever you have.”
“I’ll make us a Tom Collins. I know it’s a summer drink, but what the hell, it’s a nice day.”
Once seated with their drinks, Marie asked what she wanted to discuss.
Rhonda suddenly had misgivings about having come. How could she open up to someone she hardly knew? “I’m not sure how much I can tell you. I have quite a few things going on and wanted to talk with someone.”
Marie moved over and sat next to her on the sun lounger. “Whatever you tell me, I promise to keep to myself.”
Rhonda looked her in the eye, “You can’t tell John. Some of it is damaging to someone he probably knows.”
“Cross my heart,” Marie responded.
Rhonda told her she had found herself in a rut and had changed jobs. She told her about Doug and that she had looked into the farms’ accounts.
“I’ve found some evidence proving that Doug’s wife Shirley was screwing around with the accountant, and there is money missing. I don’t know if I can tell Doug. He’s a nice guy, and I don’t think he wants to know what she was up to?”
Marie took a big sip of her drink, “I don’t know what to tell you. If I knew Doug, maybe I’d have some advice. But I guess you have to go to the police.”
“I don’t want to involve the police until I better understand the accounts. I’m meeting with the accountant tomorrow. ‘I’ll see what his reaction is.”
They spent the next half an hour discussing the farm, her role there, and Doug’s ex-wife. When the conversation drew to a close, Rhonda looked at Marie and thanked her for listening. Talking with you has given me some ideas for confronting Bruce tomorrow.”
“I have a question for you,” exclaimed Marie. “How is your marriage? I noticed you and Harry hardly spoke at the party last month.”
“Not good. I think Harry’s having an affair.”
Having found Marie to be such a good listener, she opened up about her dissatisfaction and admitted their sex life was all but nonexistent.
“I understand. I’m in much the same situation. John and I have come to an impasse in our sex life. He has lost all desire, and I struggle to get any action. Have you thought about seeing someone else?”
“No! Have you? I wouldn’t know how to go about it.”
“I’ve found a dating site online. I’ll give you the address if you want, or do you have your sights set on Doug?”
“No, Doug is my boss. And besides, he’s made it clear that he doesn’t mess around with married women. Will you tell me about your affairs?”
“Of course. Where would you like me to start?” Grinned Marie.
“How did you meet them, and where? Heavens, everyone knows everything about everyone in this town. How have you kept it quiet?”
“I’ve had a couple of flings over the years. But after checking the site for months, I replied to an email from a Gisborne farmer. John was attending his firm’s work function in Auckland, so it gave me all weekend to meet with the guy. I knew I couldn’t do anything too close to home, so I got Andrew, the farmer, to book a Motel in Hamilton.
“I drove to Hamilton and met him for lunch, after which we went to the motel. He’d asked me to plan to stay the night, but I said I had to be home before midnight. I wanted an excuse to leave if it all was a mistake. He was nothing to look at, but the sex was fantastic. He had me over the kitchen table the second we were through the door. Just lifted my skirt and pulled my knickers to the side. He was a bit fast and apologised.
“But unlike most men, he didn’t leave me alone. Picked me up, threw me on the bed and ate me until I came. He’s the first man I’ve had who was happy to go down on me after he had come. Within half an hour, he was at me again. We had some small breaks for drinks, but otherwise, we were fucking until I escaped at 10:00 pm. He did me in every position you could imagine.”
Rhonda was as wet as a fish, squirming around on her seat, “Heavens above. I’d like some of that. You’ve got me quite horny.”
“Would you like me to do something about that?” Asked Marie.
For a second, Rhonda did not know what she meant and inadvertently nodded her head. Then, realising what Marie meant, she exclaimed, “Oh no, I can’t.”
“Why ever not? Women know other women’s bodies better than any man ever will.”
Rhonda stuttered, “I’ve never done anything like that. Until I began reading those stories, I never knew half the stuff people do. I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever have sex again. But I don’t think I can touch another woman.”
Marie moved closer and put her hand on Rhonda’s knee, “Why don’t I see if I can change your mind? I’ll tell you about the second time. You relax and lean back.”
Rhonda stiffened at Marie’s touch but leaned back and tried to relax. However, when Marie pushed her skirt up, she tensed again.
“Relax. Please close your eyes and imagine it is Andrew from Gisborne touching you. The rough little bugger had long, thick fingers that were almost as good as his cock. Did I tell you he was well-hung? A lot bigger than my John.”
Rhonda reached for her drink and gulped it down. It was strong, but she needed it for courage. She clamped her eyes closed and let her legs be pushed apart. Marie pushed the skirt up to Rhonda’s waist and then indicated for her to raise her hips so she could ease her panties down her legs. Christ, she was horny. She had been all morning. Still, this was way outside her comfort zone, but she forced herself to be calm, telling herself she had promised herself not to be a prude anymore and had been dreaming of trying new things.
Marie began talking slowly about Andrew tying her up to a chair, then opening the Motel curtains so anyone walking past could look in. And he got down on his knees and began eating her.
The cool air hitting her exposed privates made Rhonda realise that Marie had drawn back to study her. She remembered she was outside and opened her eyes to ensure no one was watching them from the fields. The way seemed clear, so she let her shoulders slump back into the cushions.
Through narrowed eyes, she watched Marie part her legs wider and then watched in awe as Marie lowered her head and searched out her clit. She marvelled at the contrast in their bodies. Marie was petite, with olive skin and jet-black hair. Rhonda’s skin was pale/porcelain, and her figure was much fuller. Her once-trim teenage figure was long gone. She watched as Marie parted her flame-red pubic hairs. A fiery mess of curls that matched her passions when they ignited.
“Heavens, you’re wet,” exclaimed Marie. “But you taste divine. I’ve only done this once, so tell me how I’m doing.”
Rhonda could do nothing more than let out a muffled groan. She was in seventh heaven but way too embarrassed to tell Marie that. She clamped her eyes closed again and was shocked to find herself imagining it was Doug between her legs. When Marie’s fingers found her g-spot, Rhonda lost control of her legs for a moment, kicking out as she climaxed. Her orgasm was different to any she’d experienced before. Her orgasms with Harry were abrupt and desperate, not that she had any with him nowadays. But this orgasm was slow and long. At its peak, it was more intense and far more satisfying than any she’d experienced before.
Marie moved alongside her and held Rhonda’s hand until she calmed.
“Would you like to try doing that to me now? I’m very horny.”
“I don’t think I could. It’s fast for me and way outside my comfort zone. Sorry. Can I have another drink?”
Marie jumped up and went to make another drink. Rhonda pulled her skirt down and tried to calm herself. She knew she should return the favour but doubted she’d have the courage. She picked her panties up from the floor and used them to wipe some of the mess from between her legs. When she saw Marie returning, Ronda slipped her panties into her purse and took a large gulp of the offered Tom Collins.
“Tell me what happened the third time you met with the farmer,” Rhonda blurted, attempting to cover her embarrassment.
Marie took the half-finished drink from Rhonda’s hand, placed it on the coffee table, and placed Rhonda’s hand on her thigh. She lifted her dress to the top of her legs, and Rhonda saw that Marie had removed her panties while making the drinks.
Marie lay back and got comfortable, opening her legs slightly, giving Rhonda a better view of her sex. Marie pulled Rhonda’s hand closer, indicating she should touch her – so close she could feel the heat radiating from her femininity. Rhonda hesitated. She hated it when Harry immediately grabbed and franticly fingered her as soon as she was exposed. She was never ready for him.
But this was different. The aroma was intoxicating, and Rhonda’s mouth watered. She had butterflies in her stomach that felt as big as birds.
“Touch me,” Marie begged, “And I’ll tell you about my final perverse experience.”
Rhonda hesitantly ran her fingertips down Marie’s slit, barely touching her. She was intrigued by Marie’s dark labia, which were so different from her pink lips. Her hips writhing, Marie resumed her narrative.
“The second time with Andrew, he had apologised for being unable to keep it up and do me properly. Stupid, really, he had lasted longer than many men I had been with. He said that when he next visited, he should bring a mate with him. I pretended to object, but not vigorously, as the thought of having two men toying with me sounded pretty hot at the time. So, I wasn’t surprised when Andrew turned up with one of his workers on his third visit. The guy was more than half Andrew’s age. About twenty-five, I think. Mark did me all Saturday afternoon, and watching his workmate fuck me got Andrew all worked up, and he managed to fuck me twice before we went out to dinner.”
As Marie related her experience, Ronda moved closer, watching with undivided attention as Marie’s pussy twitched and gripped her fingers. Marie’s erotic recollections were turning her on just as much as they were Rhonda, and she didn’t resist when Marie pulled her head down to her quim. Marie gripped a handful of Rhonda’s fiery mane and held her head tight as she bucked her hips up onto her face.
Rhonda savoured her first taste of another woman. In no time, Marie’s face screwed up, and her hips began to jerk. A torrent of girl cum rushed past Rhonda’s fingers, and she jerked away, mouth and chin covered in Marie’s mess. She sat back and watched the dark-haired beauty’s body buck and writhe as her orgasm consumed her.
When Marie’s breathing finally slowed, Rhonda withdrew her fingers. She unexpectedly leaned forward and kissed Marie. Shocked at her impromptu show of affection, she recoiled back. But Marie reached and pulled her back for an even more passionate kiss. This uninhibited woman had awakened a world of new possibilities for Rhonda.
To be continued….
