Remembering my wife

A recent failed marriage left me exhausted and frustrated. 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 stroll across the wilderness behind my house, watching herds of cattle leisurely grazing on the tender grass, a cowboy brandishing a whip, driving the animals away. This familiar scene transports me back more than thirty years. 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. In the early 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 black hair that always showed about half an inch of black roots. Later, I found that image very alluring. Due to working on the farm, she had a very well-proportioned figure and well-built muscles. Her voice was deep and slightly hoarse, and her laughter was like a breeze sweeping through an empty valley. I began to pay more attention to her, noticing her every smile and gesture. When I was very young, I was attracted by the thick body hair on her arms. I had never seen a woman with so much soft body hair, and when the first summer came, I discovered 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 yellow 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 secretly peek 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 style sexy. I noticed that with each puff, a long wisp of smoke slowly exhaled from her nose. She tilted her head back and gently closed her eyes, seemingly enjoying each puff, and each time she inhaled deeply, greedily absorbing it. For the next four years, my infatuation with Shirley continued. 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 and often erect. When I was nineteen, I was completely obsessed with her; she became my primary object of masturbation, 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 could faintly hear a woman crying downstairs. Curious, I got out of bed, walked from my room to the stairwell, and peeked out. I was stunned: I saw Shirley standing almost naked at the front door. Her tank top was tattered and barely covered her breasts. Her lower body was bare, with no clothes on. She was very agitated and crying to her mother. I could see that there seemed to be many scars on her thighs, buttocks, 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 her muttering as she walked, "That bastard..." I sneaked back to my room so they wouldn't know I'd 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'd just found. I opened my mouth to ask something, but she 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, bare buttocks, or bright red bruises... 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 bruises on her thighs, buttocks, 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 buttocks and inner thighs with the towel. Shirley lay on the bed, moaning softly. Then my mother picked up a bottle of medicine, sprinkled it on her hands, and then spread Shirley's thighs, gently applying it to her buttocks and inner thighs. 'Oh...oh...oh...' Shirley groaned 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 mercilessly... all the while he was whipping me, calling me a whore... and asking if I had a lover..." 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 voices faded away, and I returned to my room, feeling dizzy, 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, and begged Shirley for forgiveness. In the end, Shirley went with her husband because she said she couldn't bear to leave her daughters. The days that followed were peaceful and normal, as if nothing had happened that night. After a few days of rest, Shirley returned to work on the farm as usual and frequently visited my mother. But since that night, I couldn't find peace of mind and always consciously or unconsciously avoided her. Sometimes, when she saw me, there was even 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 daughter, 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. It was the first time I'd looked at her so closely. I tried to control my gaze, not to stare at her, because I didn't want to have to hold my 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 go change." I was caught red-handed, incredibly embarrassed. To make matters worse, my pants suddenly bulged, 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 sexiest 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 a charming 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 admire you. You are so captivating. If I cross the line, please tell me, please forgive me." Then, to my surprise, I leaned forward and gently touched 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. My penis felt like it was about to burst out of my jeans. Shirley's mouth tasted smoky and warm, and her tongue was soft and warm, gently exploring. After kissing for a few minutes, 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, were a deep brown. I lifted myself up, touching her fragrant body, and took one nipple into my mouth, gently sucking on it, 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 moaned, feeling 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 my drooling, hard cock. Next, she grabbed my t-shirt and ripped it off over my head, leaving me completely naked from head to toe. When she touched my penis, I shuddered. 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 going to cum very soon, 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, and it felt incredibly wonderful. I felt my nipples were as hard as hers. Her hands stroked my penis up and down, and it was the most wonderful feeling of my young life. One of her hands cupped my testicles, gently stroking them, while the other continued to slide along my hard penis. With each upward stroke, she rubbed the head of my penis with her thumb, giving me more pleasure than I could have imagined... The stimulation of her tongue on my nipples and the smooth hands stroking my penis up and down were too much to bear, and I told her I was going to cum. She said, "Come on, I want to see you fill my mouth and my pussy with your own eyes, I want to feel your wild ejaculation!" She increased the speed of her thrusting on my penis with her hand, and also quickened the licking of my nipples with her tongue. I felt the orgasm begin. Spurts of semen shot into the air, covering my stomach and her hands. When I had slowed down, she quickly took my penis into her mouth, sucking the remaining semen, prolonging my orgasm for a few more minutes. I lay in the haystack, sweaty, burning, and itchy all over, a complete satisfaction, simply wonderful.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 stroking my wet, limp penis with the other. “That was fun,” she said. “We’ll do it again later, let’s have some fun and enjoy ourselves!” Shirley and I lay on the dusty, messy haystack, I regaining my strength. She calmly puffed on her cigarette with one hand, while the other caressed my limp penis. 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, my penis was half-erect. Shirley looked down at me, smiled, and shook her head. “I’d forgotten how quickly young people recover. Let’s take a shower before we go to bed.” 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 drinking deeply, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. Her breasts were clearly visible beneath my dirty, wet t-shirt, and in the cool kitchen, her nipples stood out like raised 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 were cooled by the water. My hand slowly slipped under her t-shirt, gently cupping her warm breasts. I lightly rubbed her nipples with my thumb and forefinger, feeling my penis harden again. She interrupted the kiss, saying, "If we want to continue, let's take a shower first, and then 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 bed and entered a bathroom, much larger than modern bathrooms. Before the plumbing was installed, this place was probably used for other purposes on the farm. Shirley stood facing me and began to undress, 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 old-fashioned cotton underwear. To me, she looked like a Greek goddess, I told her. She laughed and then told me to take off my clothes too. She turned around and went to the sink to brush her teeth. I took off my tennis shoes, then my jeans and underwear. She brushed her teeth carefully. I pressed myself against her from behind, pushing my hard penis between her thighs. She was rinsing her mouth with green mouthwash and spitting it into the sink. She turned and kissed me again. I was lost in that tender, passionate kiss once more, every cell in my body feeling warm. This kiss lasted for several minutes, my penis nestled comfortably in her thick pubic hair. My hands gently stroked her back and shoulders, and unconsciously, my left fingertips lightly caressed the back of her neck. Her tongue gently rubbed against my lips. I wanted 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, looked at me affectionately, and said, "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 once the water was hot, she turned on the showerhead. The hot water felt wonderful. We began washing each other's bodies. Washing this beautiful woman's body was a novel experience. I lathered my hands with soap and gently washed her cheeks, carefully avoiding getting soap in her eyes. Then I moved down her body, lathering her back with soap. I spent more time on her breasts. I lathered my hands with soap again and began to grope around, washing her lower body. I happily washed her surprisingly full buttocks, then carefully lathered her pubic hair and the cleft between her thighs. She didn't want me to linger there too long. Finally, I knelt there and washed her legs and feet. The soft hair on her legs was dizzying; I was surprised to find that it excited me even more. I knelt before her, her hands on my shoulders, my face inches from her thick, semi-brown pubic hair, which formed a narrow patch of grass that stretched down to her navel. 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 in her thick pubic hair, kissing her labia. I expected to 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, circling it with my tongue. At that time, I knew absolutely nothing about the clitoris, but in the next few hours, I would learn everything from this wonderful thirty-eight-year-old woman. I continued to move my tongue up and down her labia, going in and out deeply. Each time I reached the tip, she trembled even more violently. Finally, as I licked her hard clitoris, Shirley gripped my head tightly with both hands. I continued licking her with my tongue, and she began to moan and scream, her whole body trembling. Finally, 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 fragrant fluid flowing from her vulva 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. 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 had turned a deep brownish-red, wrinkled, with many protrusions. Her nipples were erect, like a shrunken penis. The cold water had the same effect on my body. My nipples were like hard buds, and she playfully pinched them. My penis retracted, and my testicles tightened. We dried each other off, then rushed into the bedroom and burrowed under the sheets, huddling together for warmth. A few minutes later, we began caressing each other with our noses, then kissed. After several long, passionate kisses, she said, “What you did to me in the shower was amazing. It’s the first time anyone’s ever put their mouth in 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. Hasn’t your husband ever done that to you?” “No, he wants me to suck his cock so he can ejaculate 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 started 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 be inside her, desperately. 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 reached my hard penis, she began to lick the glans and stroke it with her hands. Although I had ejaculated less than an hour earlier, I was on the verge of orgasm again within seconds. Shirley then put the head of my penis in her mouth and began to tease it with her tongue while gently thrusting her hands in and out, playing with my testicles. Soon I felt the urge to ejaculate, but I had to hold it in. She gradually pushed my penis deeper into her mouth, and I felt the head of my penis slowly slide over her palate and into her throat. Her lips enveloped the base of my penis, and as she slowly withdrew, her breath brushed against my pubic hair. I felt it was amazing, wondering how she did it without suffocating. Her hands miraculously coordinated with her mouth, and my penis remained in her warmth and care. I realized I was approaching orgasm, so I placed my hands on her head and shouted, "I'm going to cum." Shirley increased the speed of her thrusting and sucking, and after several times, I began to ejaculate in her mouth. She didn't panic. Later, I wondered how she avoided suffocating when I shot spurts of semen into her mouth and throat. After a long time, I stopped ejaculating. She continued to thrust my penis in and out of her mouth without stopping until my penis began to soften and shrink. She looked up at me and smiled. I leaned in and kissed her deeply, tasting my semen in her mouth without any hesitation. We nestled together, and I gently caressed her breasts and kissed her lips. "I want to make love to 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 long-lasting 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 sweating buckets with your armpits and thighs burning. Do you mind body hair? If you do, I'll trim or shave it before we do anything more." "No, actually, I've always thought it makes you sexier. I think you'll think I'm a little perverted, 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 gets lucky. 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 light it, then took a deep drag on the smoke and inhaled. Before she inhaled, I saw her mouth filled with thick white smoke. She held her breath, then slowly exhaled a long plume of smoke, some still lingering from her lips and nostrils as she finished. I leaned in and kissed her, my tongue teasing her once more, savoring the taste of her smoke without any aversion. After our kiss, she took another long drag, and 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 strange and absurd, but with Shirley, it seemed both appropriate and natural. [The End]

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