Remembering my wife

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

It was already March, but a chill still lingered in the air. Early spring on the Sideria prairie was still biting. After a gust of cold wind, the sun hid behind dark clouds, and my mood, like the weather, was shrouded in gloom.

A recent failed marriage had left me exhausted and filled with a sense of defeat. Perhaps to escape the hustle and bustle of the city and dispel my turmoil, or perhaps because I heard a distant call from within, I returned to this remote prairie. Now, I strolled across the wilderness behind my house, watching herds of cattle leisurely grazing on the tender green shoots, a cowboy brandishing a whip, driving the livestock into the distance. This familiar scene seemed to transport my thoughts back to more than thirty years ago.

My name is Baker Woodsman, and I am 53 years old. I was born in Kansas City, Missouri, in 1952, a well-known city in the American Midwest. When I was eleven, my family moved from the city to the countryside. My mother's newest friend was the owner of a nearby farm.

She was a few years younger than my mother and had three daughters. The eldest was a year older than me, and the other two were a year and three years younger. For the first few years, I often played with her three daughters on bicycles or other children's games. We often played various roles from "The Wizard of Oz," searching for the great wizard King Oswald. Her three daughters took turns playing Dorothy and the witch, while I was destined to play the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion.

But time passed, and when I was seventeen, their mother, Shirley, entered my heart.

Shirley was a blonde woman with always half an inch of black hair showing through. Later, I realized that image was powerful. Due to working on the farm, she was very well-proportioned and muscular; her voice was deep and slightly hoarse, and her laughter was like a gentle breeze sweeping through an empty valley.

I began to pay more attention to her, noticing her every smile, every gesture. Even as a young child, I was attracted to the thick hair on her arms. I had never seen a woman with so much soft body hair. When the first summer came, I noticed that she also had the same short, soft, light-colored hair on her legs.

One day, she and her daughter came to our garden to help pick green beans. She was wearing a very fashionable tank top at the time, my favorite kind of women's clothing. When she stopped and brushed her hair away from her cheek, I noticed that she also had thick brown armpit hair.

Her tank top was soaked with sweat, and I could clearly see the outline of her large, dark nipples and armpit hair, a sight that immediately aroused me.

I turned away and frantically picked green beans, trying to avoid letting my mother, Shirley, and her daughter see this embarrassing situation, but at the same time, I couldn't help but steal glances at Shirley.

When we stopped to rest in the shade, Shirley and my mother both lit cigarettes.

I used to hate smoking, but now, standing next to smokers, I suddenly found Shirley's smoking quite... I noticed that with each puff, a long wisp of smoke slowly exhaled from her nose.

She tilted her head back, gently closing her eyes, seemingly savoring each puff of cigarette smoke, inhaling deeply and greedily with each drag.

My infatuation with Shirley continued for the next four years. I noticed that in the summer she usually wore shorts and a tank top, then a short-sleeved blouse. Her breasts weren't particularly large; I later learned she should have worn a B-cup bra. However, her areolas were large, dark brown, and her nipples were prominent, often standing erect. When I was nineteen, I was completely obsessed with her; she became my primary object of affection, my goddess.

Then something happened that deeply shocked me. One summer when I was nineteen, my father happened to be out. Late that night, I was suddenly awakened by a rapid knocking on the door. I heard my mother come downstairs to open it, followed by a scream of "Oh, God!"

I faintly heard a woman crying downstairs. Curious, I got out of bed and peeked out from my room at the top of the stairs. I was stunned: I saw Shirley standing almost naked in the doorway. Her tank top was tattered and barely covered her breasts, and she was completely naked from the waist down. She was very agitated, crying and telling her mother something. I saw what appeared to be many bruises on her thighs and bare shoulders.

My mother took off her shirt and draped it over Shirley's shoulders, comforting her as she helped her upstairs to her room. I heard my mother muttering as she walked, "That..."

I sneaked back to my room so they wouldn't know I had seen everything. Five minutes later, my mother came to my room and asked me to go downstairs to the kitchen to boil some water. I saw she was holding a bottle of medicine she had just found. I opened my mouth to ask something, but my mother stopped me: "Please help me, don't ask anything, okay, Baker?"

"But..." I wanted to say something more, "Don't tell anyone what happened tonight. You didn't see anything, right?" I

nodded. Yes, I didn't see anything. I didn't see Shirley running to my house in the middle of the night, dressed in tattered clothes, nor did I see her exposed breasts, her naked, bright red wounds...

I boiled a basin of water and brought it upstairs. My mother opened the bedroom door and took the basin of water. Through the open door, I saw Shirley lying naked on the bed, her thighs spread apart. The bright red wounds on her thighs and back were clearly visible. I was stunned. Then I heard my mother say to me, "Okay, Baker, this is all for you. Forget everything that happened tonight and get a good night's sleep." "

My head was throbbing as I walked back to my room. I tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. Everything that had happened tonight terrified me, yet at the same time, I felt incredibly excited. Driven by curiosity, I got out of bed and tiptoed back to my mother's bedroom door. Through the crack in the door, I saw my mother holding a towel soaked in hot water, gently wiping Shirley's body. 'Oh my God, that beast is inhuman!'

I saw my mother cursing as she wiped Shirley's skin and inner thighs with the towel. Shirley lay on the bed making soft noises. Then my mother picked up a bottle of medicine, sprinkled it on her hands, then spread Shirley's thighs and gently applied it to her skin and inner thighs. 'Oh...oh...oh...' Shirley cried out in pain."

“Oh my god, he actually… he actually… you… This is unbelievable, it’s so shameless!

So disgusting, we should call the police right now, Shirley!”

I saw my mother trembling, her face flushed, her voice trembling with anger. She must have witnessed something horrific. “Oh, no, no… please, please don’t tell anyone,” I heard Shirley plead in a low voice. “Do you still want to forgive him?” my mother asked indignantly as she applied the medicine. “Oh, I brought this on myself,” Shirley replied weakly.

“What exactly happened?” my mother asked.

A long silence followed before Shirley’s weak, low voice finally broke the silence. Listening to their conversation, I was deeply shocked. Her husband had been whipping her after drinking heavily, and had been sexually abusing her for years.

Because her daughter was growing up, she was considering divorce.

“He drank heavily again tonight and came home very late. I told him I wanted a divorce, and he got so angry that he dragged me to the warehouse, hung me up, and then whipped me severely… while he was whipping me, he kept cursing me, saying things like… ‘Do you have someone else?’”

Shirley’s voice was broken through the door. “How did you escape?” I heard my mother ask.

“He said if I brought up divorce again, he would strip me naked and drag me to the market to be displayed for everyone in town to see. After he vented his anger on me, he was probably tired. He said he needed to think about how to deal with me, and then he left the warehouse. I took the opportunity to break free of the ropes and escape…”

“Oh God, poor Shirley…” I heard my mother sigh. The sound faded as I stumbled back to my room, my head spinning, and drifted off to sleep.

The next day, Shirley’s husband came to my house. He claimed he was drunk and didn’t know what he had done, begging Shirley for forgiveness. Ultimately, Shirley went with him, saying she couldn’t bear to leave her daughters.

Life went on as usual, as if nothing had happened that night. After a few days of rest, Shirley resumed her work on the farm and often visited my mother. But since that night, I couldn’t find peace. I always consciously or unconsciously avoided her. Sometimes, when she saw me, there was a hint of embarrassment in her eyes. I think she must know what I saw that night.

One day, she came to my house and told my mother that her husband was showing calves at the state fair in Cedar, Missouri, with their daughters, but she wasn’t going. She was staying to take care of the farm.

My mother called me over. She said Shirley wanted to ask me something. I walked over nervously, while Shirley seemed quite at ease, asking if I would like to help her at the farm next week. My mouth went dry, my palms sweated, and I forced a strong affirmative answer, suppressing my excitement.

"I think you should earn some pocket money, shouldn't you, honey?"

As Shirley said this, I saw a strange glint flash in her beautiful eyes. When I arrived at seven in the morning, Shirley was waiting for me at the gate. She was wearing an old white tank top and white shorts. Her pretty, dark brown face and radiant smile made me feel like the luckiest person on the planet. She told me that her husband had already unloaded several stacks of hay on the barn floor, and there were two other fully loaded trailers outside the barn; we were going to stack them all today.

She carried a water bottle, a lighter, and cigarettes, and quickly handed me the bottle, which we carried together. She smiled at me and led me to the barn. On the way, she told me how grateful she was that I could come and help her and keep her company.

We spent the whole morning hauling hay and stacking it. When we first stopped to rest, we were both drenched in sweat. Shirley and I sat down on the hay bales, and she immediately lit a cigarette. She

took a deep drag, then slowly exhaled a long plume of smoke, and for the first time, I looked at her so closely. I tried to control my gaze, not to stare at her, because I didn't want to have to maintain an erection all day.

Her white tank top was soaked with sweat, almost transparent. A breeze blew by, and I saw her wet nipples harden, standing erect beneath the soaked top.

I didn't realize how long I'd been staring at her until Shirley said, "I think I should change."

I was caught red-handed, incredibly embarrassed. To make matters worse, my pants immediately started to bulge, and I blurted out, "No!"

I was startled by my own words!

After a long silence, Shirley put the cigarette to her lips and took a deep drag.

She pulled the cigarette from her mouth, and in the instant before she inhaled, I saw a thick plume of white smoke.

She paused for a few seconds, then slowly exhaled a long, white stream of smoke towards me. She didn't say a word, and with the next few breaths, several more plumes of smoke emerged from her nostrils. The woman before me was dirty, sweaty, disheveled, and her hair was matted with straw, yet she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

She said, "I think we should talk. I know you like to stare at me, and I don't think it's a big deal, but you're my best friend's son, and I think we should be careful." "

I wanted to say, you're charming, I've always thought so," I stammered.

“Look,” she said, “I’m thirty-eight, twice your age. I’m not an attractive woman, even my own husband dislikes me. Wake up, Baker, why don’t you go find a girl your own age?”

“You’re the most beautiful woman I know,” I stammered. “Your husband is an idiot and a scoundrel. My father and I never liked him; he doesn’t deserve you at all, he’s a complete jerk.”

She gazed deeply at me, her hand trembling slightly as she brought the cigarette to her lips, taking several deep drags before slowly exhaling.

“Thank you,” she said, “I think you’re telling the truth.”

“Yes, I do. I love the way you treat people, and you’re so kind and beautiful, absolutely stunning.”

She actually blushed.

“Thank you. You’ve always been a special young man, but I think you noticed me because I’m a bit different. I don’t shave my body hair and I never wear a bra. Actually, you’re flattering me too much. You often peek at me; it’s just love blindness. I’m also a little worried because I’m afraid your mother will notice, but then again…”

She hesitated for a moment, then took a long drag on her cigarette.

“I like it when you look at me, because it makes me happy to be looked at by a handsome guy like you.”

I was speechless with surprise. I watched her stand up, walk to the barn door, stub out her cigarette, and throw it in the dirt. She came to my side, took my hand, and led me to the back attic door.

We sat on a loose pile of hay, and she lit another cigarette.

I asked her, "Are you annoyed with me?"

"No, no, not at all… How could I be annoyed with you? You're the first man in the last twenty years to have ever tried to please me. I'm just a little worried and scared because you're so young and… I'm so attracted to you."

She put the cigarette to her lips again, took a deep drag, and began to exhale slowly. At that moment, I reached out and took her hand.

"I will always respect and honor you. You are so captivating. If I cross the line, please tell me, please forgive me."

Then, I surprised myself again, leaning forward and gently touching her lips to mine. She accepted my kiss, and we gradually explored each other's mouths with our lips and tongues. I've kissed and embraced several girls, but this was the most exciting thing I'd ever experienced.

I felt like my jeans were about to burst. Shirley's mouth tasted smoky and warm, her tongue soft and warm, gently exploring.

After a few minutes of kissing, she pulled away and immediately took a deep drag of her cigarette. Our eyes met, and as she exhaled half a puff of smoke, I couldn't wait any longer. I pressed my lips to hers, savoring the tobacco and the scent of her lips. We slowly lay down side by side on the haystack.

She shifted slightly and asked, "Are you really sure you want to do this with an old woman like me?"

"Yes, if you want to do this with a little guy like me, I'd be more than happy."

She took another deep drag of her cigarette, walked to the window, and carefully extinguished it, making sure there were no embers in the haystack. She slowly exhaled smoke, walked back to me, raised her arm, stood in front of me, and then untied her tank top behind her neck.

Her thick brown armpit hair was even more striking in the light streaming in from the window. She loosened the straps behind her neck and reached behind to untie the back, and for the first time, I saw her lovely breasts exposed.

Her large areolas were a slightly reddish-brown, covered with wrinkled bumps, and her nipples, like thick corks, stood out, a deep brown. I lifted myself up, touched her fragrant body, and took one nipple into my mouth, gently sucking, while my hand cupped her other breast. I finally tasted and touched her lovely breasts, something I had longed for.

When my fingertips touched her armpit hair, she raised her arm to let me get closer, and I dug my fingers into those thick, sweaty armpit hairs, something I had dreamed of.

I continued to suck on her nipple, and she lifted up; I felt her nipple grow larger in my mouth.

“Harder,” she said, “harder, bite it, ohhhhh…”

She slumped down beside me and pulled me to her lips, and we began to kiss again, my hands continuing to grope her breasts and armpit hair. I felt her hand on my belt; she loosened it, unbuttoned her jeans, and ripped off my jeans and shorts in one go, releasing her drooling hardness.

Next, she grabbed my t-shirt and ripped it off over my head, leaving me completely naked from head to toe.

A chill ran down my spine when she touched me.

I put my hands on her and said, "Stop, I can't hold back, but I want to satisfy you properly."

She smiled and said, "I know you're about to cum, that's good. I'll help you cum first, then we can relax and enjoy ourselves."

I lay back, and she smeared my pre-ejaculate and her saliva on her hands, slowly stroking my penis back and forth. At the same time, she began to tease my nipples with the tip of her tongue. No one had ever done this to me before; it felt incredibly wonderful. I felt my nipples were as hard as hers. Her hands stroked my penis up and down; it was the most wonderful feeling of my young life.

One of her hands cupped my penis, gently stroking it, while the other continued to slide across my hardness. Each time she stroked upwards, she rubbed the head with her thumb, giving me more pleasure than I could have imagined… The stimulation of her tongue on my nipples and the smooth stroking of my penis with her hands was unbearable, I told her I…

She said, "Come on, I want to see you fill my mouth with your own eyes, I want to feel your wild eruption!"

She quickened her thrusts on me with her hand, and also increased the speed of her tongue licking my nipples. I felt it begin. Spurts shot into the air, covering my stomach and her hands.

When I had slowed down, she quickly took mine into her mouth, sucking on the rest, prolonging my time for several more minutes.

I lay in the haystack, sweaty, burning, and itchy all over, a complete satisfaction, simply blissful. She continued to caress my now limp penis, while reaching for a cigarette and lighter.

She put the white cigarette in her mouth, lit it with one hand, and continued to caress my wet, limp penis with the other.

“That was so much fun,” she said. “Let’s do it again later, let’s have a good time and enjoy ourselves!” Shirley and I lay on the dusty, messy haystack. I was regaining my strength, and she calmly smoked her cigarette with one hand while stroking my wet, limp penis with the other. Then, she rolled over and kissed me, her lips brushing against mine, sharing a gentle kiss. Our tongues explored each other’s mouths, and when we finally parted, I was already half-erect.

Shirley looked down at me, smiled, and shook her head.

“I’d forgotten how quickly young people recover. Before we go, let’s go inside and take a shower.”

She took my hand and led me toward the barn door. Suddenly, she stopped, looked at the dirty, wet tank top in her hand, and said, “Maybe you should give me your t-shirt, just in case someone drives by.”

I quickly put the t-shirt on her, and we walked toward the house arm in arm. She went into the kitchen and filled two large glasses with water. We stood there, gulping down our drinks, gazing deeply into each other's eyes. Her breasts were clearly visible beneath my wet, dirty t-shirt, and in the cool kitchen air, her nipples stood out like peaks against the fabric.

She said, "I know this is illogical, maybe the biggest mistake of my life."

We continued to gaze at each other, and I leaned in to kiss her. It was another long, tender, passionate kiss, seemingly lasting forever. Her lips and tongue cooled from the water, and my hand slowly slipped under her t-shirt, gently cupping her warm breasts. I lightly rubbed her nipples between my thumb and forefinger, feeling them harden again.

She stopped kissing, saying, "If we want to continue, let's take a shower first, and then we'll do it."

She took my hand again, leading me up a flight of stairs, through a spacious bedroom with a huge four-poster bed.

We passed the large bed and entered a bathroom, much larger than modern ones. Before the plumbing was installed, this was probably where the farm used to be. Shirley stood facing me and began to dress, first pulling my dirty, wet t-shirt over her head and throwing it on the floor. Then she pulled down her shorts and kicked them off, standing there in her old-fashioned cotton underwear.

To me, she looked like a Greek goddess, I told her. She laughed and then had me take off my clothes too. Turning around, she went to the sink and started brushing her teeth. I took off my tennis shoes, then my jeans and... She brushed her teeth carefully. I pressed myself against her from behind, thrusting my hard erection between her thighs. She was rinsing her mouth with green mouthwash and spitting it into the sink.

She turned and kissed me again, and I was lost in that tender, passionate kiss once more, every cell in my body feeling warm. This kiss lasted for several minutes, my comfortable embrace nestled against her thick... My hands gently stroked her back and shoulders, and unconsciously, my left fingertips lightly caressed the back of her neck. Her tongue gently brushed against my lips, and I longed to possess her body immediately. But I didn't want to ruin this beautiful kiss, and neither did she.

Finally, she took a step back and looked at me affectionately, saying, "I think you want to do it again. Let's take a shower together; I smell terrible."

Shirley took my hand again and stepped into the old-fashioned bathtub.

I followed closely behind, casually pulling the plastic shower curtain closed. She turned on the tap, and after the water heated up, she turned on the showerhead. The hot water felt wonderful, and we began to wash each other's bodies. Washing this beautiful woman's body was a novel experience. I lathered my hands with soap and began to gently wash her cheeks, carefully avoiding getting soap suds in her eyes.

Then I started soaping her back, moving down her body. I spent more time on her breasts, then lathered my hands with soap again and began to wash her lower body. I happily washed her surprisingly full buttocks, then carefully soaped her thighs and cleft. She didn't want me to linger there. Finally, I knelt down and washed her legs and feet.

The soft hair on her legs was dizzying, and I was surprised to find that it excited me even more. I knelt in front of her, her hands on my shoulders, my face inches from her dark brown navel. A narrow patch of hair stretched down to her navel. There, soft, golden down surrounded her dark brown navel.

I'd heard of clitoral licking, but never done it. On impulse, I leaned in and buried my face deep inside her thick vulva, kissing her. I thought I'd be pushed away, but as I explored with my lips and tasted her moist, musky flavor with my tongue, she held my head tightly. I pushed my tongue as deep as possible along her vulva.

She shuddered. When I reached the tip, I found a hard clitoris. I licked it around with my tongue. At that time, I knew absolutely nothing about it, but in the next few hours, I would learn everything from this wonderful 38-year-old mature woman.

I continued moving my tongue up and down on her, going in and out deeply. Each time I reached the tip, she trembled even more violently. Finally, as I licked her hardness, Shirley gripped my head tightly with both hands.

I continued licking, and she began to scream, her whole body trembling. Eventually, she went limp. I wrapped my arms around her back and gently placed her in the bathtub. I leaned over and kissed her lips. She shamelessly tasted the erotic fluid flowing from her into my mouth. She was still panting heavily, and we continued kissing.

She was, after all, a very practical female farmer, and said, "We have to finish washing before the hot water dries up."

We stood up, and she quickly began to wash me, and then we washed each other's hair. The water did warm up, but it got cold when we finished. I looked at her body, and goosebumps rose all over my skin from the cold water. Her areolas were a deep brownish-red, wrinkled, with many protrusions. Her nipples were erect, like miniature ones. The cold water had the same effect on my body.

My nipples were like hard buds, and she playfully pinched them. Mine recoiled and tightened. We dried each other, then rushed into the bedroom and burrowed under the sheets, huddling together for warmth.

A few minutes later, we began to caress each other with our noses, then kissed. After several deep, passionate kisses, she said, “What you did to me in the shower was amazing. It’s the first time anyone has put their mouth there. Where did you learn to do that?”

“I didn’t learn,” I replied.

“I just wanted to do it. I’m so glad you liked it. Has your husband never done that to you?”

“No, he wants me to suck his so he can be in my mouth, but he’s never done anything like that to me. He’s not a good man. Let’s not talk about him now.” We began kissing and caressing each other again, and soon I was hard again, wanting more. The warmth of the blanket allowed me to smell her salty, lustful scent again. I wanted to enter her, I longed for it so much.

Perhaps sensing my eagerness, Shirley took the initiative again. "We've been busy all day, lie down and relax."

Shirley kissed my body, and when she touched my erection, she began to lick it and stroke it with her hands. Although I had ejaculated less than an hour earlier, I was on the verge of ejaculation again within seconds.

Shirley then put my head in her mouth and began to tease it with her tongue while gently moving her hands in and out.

Playing with me, I soon felt an urge again, which I had to suppress.

She gradually pushed it deeper into her mouth, and I felt my head slowly slide over her palate and into her throat. Her lips enveloped the base of my penis, and as she slowly withdrew, her breath blew onto me. I felt it was amazing, wondering how she did it without suffocating. Her hands miraculously coordinated with her mouth, and I remained enveloped in her warmth and care.

I realized I was getting closer, placed my hands on her head, and said loudly, "I..."

Shirley increased the speed of her thrusting and sucking. After several times, I began to ejaculate in her mouth. She didn't panic. Later, I wondered how she avoided suffocating as I ejaculated into her mouth and throat. After a long time, I stopped ejaculating.

She continued to thrust into me with her mouth, without stopping, until I began to soften and shrink.

She looked up at me and smiled. I leaned in and kissed her deeply, tasting the essence of myself in her mouth, not minding at all. We nestled together, and I gently caressed her breasts and kissed her fragrant lips.

"I want to be with you," I said.

She smiled and said, “We have plenty of time for this. I want you to relax. I want this first time to be memorable and unforgettable.”

She lay back, placing one hand on the pillow. I had forgotten my obsession with her body hair, but seeing the long, brown armpit hair again reminded me. I reached in and ran my fingertips through it. She smiled, and we continued kissing.

“Why don’t you shave? I mean, it’s nice, but I’m just wondering why all my mom’s other friends shave, but you don’t.”

She laughed again and said, “I work so hard every day, shaving would take up so much time. It always seems to give me rashes and skin inflammation. You have to work with your armpits and thighs burning and sweating. Do you mind the body hair? If you do, I’ll trim or shave it before we do anything else.”

“No, actually, I’ve always thought it makes you feel better. I think you’d agree, right?”

“Oh, really. Sometimes I’m surprised how many guys stare at me. They seem to get really excited when they see my thighs and armpits. If you like that, I’m happy. Now I want to ask you a question. I’m refraining from smoking because I know you don’t, and I know how awful my breath smells when I smoke, but would you mind if I had one now? I’ll brush my teeth and rinse my mouth again afterward, but I’ll feel more relaxed if I have a cigarette now.”

As the saying goes, even a blind cat sometimes catches a mouse. I was just thinking about how to please her when she told me how much she needed that thing. I reached for the cigarette case on the bedside table, took a cigarette, and put it between her lips. I lit it for her with a lighter

. She took a few puffs to ignite it, then took a deep drag on the smoke and inhaled. Before she inhaled, I saw her mouth full of thick white smoke. She held her breath and slowly exhaled a long plume of smoke, some still coming out of her lips and nostrils as she finished exhaling.

I leaned in and kissed her, my tongue teasing her once more, savoring the taste of her cigarette without any aversion. After our kiss, she took another long drag, and then I began kissing her breasts, gently biting and sucking her hard, brown nipples, while my hands lightly played with her thick armpit hair.

Looking back now, it seems somewhat unconventional and absurd, but with Shirley, it seemed both appropriate and natural.

[The End]

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