Yorkshire Dales
Copyright© 2026 by MicaMeesha
Chapter 17
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 17 - An ongoing account of the various interactions, some natural, some supernatural, some fantastical, all sexual, that occur in a small cottage in the West Riding Yorkshire Dales.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/Ma Consensual Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Fairy Tale Paranormal Magic Demons Incest Mother Son Daughter Water Sports
I was having a barn built. As I technically lived on a farm, I didn’t need planning permission. I had gotten a couple of quotes and had gone with the slightly more expensive but more detailed quote. It would be just past the cottage. The hay had been harvested, and so little work needed to be done to prepare the land. The barn was a pole-barn style, with no concrete base or footings required. Holes are drilled into the ground using an Auger, and tall poles are inserted. They are then plumbed and concreted into place. When all is set, the team comes back and adds the roof and three Yorkshire boarding walls.
I was going to get the electrician back to provide lights and power outlets, and I planned to get a tractor which I would store in there. The company I got the quote from had seen the track for access and had no issues; their trucks could easily get along there, and being people that work in the country, they knew about not damaging the track.
Jacob called in to see how I was doing, and I explained my plans.
“Good idea,” he had said. “What do you plan to use it for?”
“I want to get a tractor with a bush hog or mower so that I can maintain my track. I also thought forks for lifting stuff would be useful and a front bucket. That should be pretty much everything I would need. But I want an old one, no electronics, easy for me to understand and maintain. I might look out for an old Land Rover too; just in case the weather gets really bad, a four-wheeler might be useful. And finally, I thought a trailer for getting stuff that the delivery people won’t drive up my track with.”
“You have thought this through, haven’t you?”
“I have been thinking about it for a while.”
“I have a lot of that stuff unused now, too old for me. I have an old Massey Ferguson, not powerful enough for my farm. I have an old trailer; it needs a little bit of welding and a lot of paint to stop it going rustier than it is. I have a grass cutter that would do your track, and the tractor has a bucket. The only thing I don’t have is the forks or the old Land Rover. There is a farm auction Thursday next week; we could go there and see what there is.”
“Do you want to sell me the stuff that you don’t use anymore?”
“I could do, it is just sitting in the way in one of my barns at the moment.”
“How much do you want for it?”
“Let’s see what stuff sells for at the auction and then come to an agreement, okay?”
“Yes. I don’t have a welder, though.”
“I have an old Sealey arc welder that I don’t use. I will sort it out and find some scrap metal for you to practise on. You already have most of the tools that you need from when you did the Shepherd’s Hut. There is no point in you buying a welder for the little amount that you’ll need it.”
“Thank you, Jacob; that is brilliant. The barn builders are coming on Monday; they reckon the poles will be up Monday, and then it will all be finished on Wednesday after the concrete has set.”
“I will pop by and watch them if you have no objections?”
“None at all.”
He had said nothing, not hinted, but I knew what he wanted. I went and knelt before him, and his face lit up. I reached forward and undid his belt and then his trousers. He lifted a little, and I pulled his trousers and underpants down. His dick stood proud, awaiting my attention. I leant forward, opened my mouth and sucked his dick into it.
Metallic and salty, I licked his glans after pulling his foreskin back; he twitched and murmured his delight at my actions. I was not in the mood for a full-on shag, and anyway, he was married, but I didn’t mind a blowjob; after all, he was being extra helpful. I moved up and down on his dick, shagging him with my mouth as my hand held his foreskin down and behind his glans.
I stopped shagging with my mouth and ran my tongue around the edge of his glans; he shivered again. I wondered if his pressures were building. As I moved my tongue I ran a fingernail lightly over his balls, tracing the seam between the two halves of his sac. He trembled. I gently squeezed his balls and started using my hand to wank him.
I looked up at him as I worked his dick; his eyes were alternating between screwed tightly shut and staring wide open, and his mouth was doing impressions of goldfish. He was close. I ran my tongue lightly, hardly touching his glans. I squeezed his dark tight as I moved his foreskin, and my finger on his balls slipped under him to his perineum and lightly ran between the cheeks of his arse.
“Aargh,” he screamed as his ejaculate shot down past my tonsils, spurt after spurt, and I sucked every drop from him until he was drained. I stood up and licked my lips and looked him in the eye.
“Thank you, Jacob; you taste sublime,” I said as I sat back down and let him tidy himself.
Watching the team of men build the barn was an education. They had a Bobcat skid steer with an auger attachment at the front which they unloaded from a trailer that they had towed behind a pickup. They spend around forty minutes marking out the holes, cross-checking every placement with measurements across triangles to ensure squareness. Then they drilled every hole in the positions that they had marked.
They changed the auger attachment for a set of forks and then took the vertical poles one at a time from the other trailer that was behind a van rather than a pickup. All the poles were placed next to the holes and then lifted and tipped in using the forks. Once all the poles were in place, they plumbed the first one, used spars nailed to the pole to keep it in the right position and then added postcrete mix to the hole and added water.
They then set up a second pole, measuring from the first fixed pole to ensure distances were correct, and repeated the processes until all the poles were set. They cleared away and were gone by lunchtime Monday, promising to return early on Wednesday to complete the process.
Tuesday was a free day, so I spent all day working from the cottage, had a few Zoom meetings with clients and then a long shower and a cheesy jacket potato for tea. On Wednesday they turned up at around seven fifteen, and they were started. Ladders were up the poles, a laser level was set up and all the poles were trimmed to the same height. One crew were fixing batons to the poles on the back and sides, ready for the Yorkshire boarding, and another crew were using a cherry picker to place the roof trusses in place. Two rounds of tea later, all the trusses were in place, and then the roof battens were ready for the roofing.
They worked so fast; it was incredible to watch. By five thirty, they had finished. I had a barn with a roof and boards across the sides and the back. By six they had cleared away everything and were gone. I had a barn and nothing left in terms of offcuts; they had cleared up everything. I was incredibly impressed.
“They work fast,” Jacob had said on one of his visits to watch them work. “Let’s hope it stands the test of time.” Well, yes, exactly.
Jacob picked me up at ten to go to the farm sale. There was a fair amount of equipment, Jacob explaining that the auctioneers would have bought stuff from other sites to make up a large sale. I got a set of forks that Jacob said had the same fittings as his tractor. We also got some things called speed binders, some chains, some straps, and something called a high-lift jack. The last thing we got was a heavy-duty lockable cupboard to keep things in like oils, filters, etc. Everything was loaded onto Jacob’s trailer and strapped down; that was where I discovered what the speed binders were for, and the rest of the loose stuff went in the back of his range rover.
Back at the cottage, Jacob reversed the trailer into my new barn, and we unhitched it. The tractors at the sale had gone cheaply or simply not sold, and all in all Jacob had calculated that if he had sold his equipment that he had given me at the auction, he would have ended up with around two thousand pounds, and so he told me he would accept seventeen hundred pounds from me, as he wouldn’t have had to haul the stuff there nor would he have to pay commission charges. I accepted that and transferred the money to his bank. Jacob said he would bring round the rest of the stuff when he had a chance on Friday and left to go back to his farm, his wife and his daughter. I had a shower and went to bed.
Friday morning saw me in the barn unloading the trailer. I couldn’t move much, as I didn’t have the tractor with the forks to lift stuff; I had the forks, but no tractor. Frustrating. I couldn’t even move the cupboard. I was standing to one side cussing when a voice interrupted me.
“I could help,” a deep male voice said. I looked around. There was a man leaning against one of my posts, watching me. He was dressed all in black and seemed to be wearing black makeup around his eyes.
“And who are you and why are you on my land?” I asked, wondering how he had got there without my noticing.
“I am Amon,” he said, sounding as if he really could do with clearing his throat. “I am an expert in many things; I can procure favour, and I can reconcile friends and foes and summon assistance.”
“Oh yes, and how do you do that?”
“Oh, for a small fee, nothing of monetary value, and something you wouldn’t miss, not for a very long time.”
“Well now, Amon, I didn’t ask how much; I assumed there would be a charge. I asked how. How do you procure favour? How do you reconcile friends and foes? Not that I have any foes that I am aware of.”
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