Chapter 1

Anton had a writing project to give a story of the two major crops in Dalmatia north of Dubrovnik. They mostly grow olives and grapes on the rocky hillsides facing the Adriatic. He rode a motorcycle and searched for a good place to be, asking locals and following up on leads. Finally he found a farm up in the hills with a man whose family had worked the land for generations.

This writer had Croatian roots but spoke very little of the language, thus returning closer to his background was as much for seeking information as actually making money from writing the article. The place he found was on a hillside with the usual stone wall with red tile roof house. When standing in a dirt road or vineyard, he could often see the sparkling Adriatic off in the distance. He’d been given a referral down in a village to this place and he introduced himself. With a combination of poor Croatian on his part and broken English on theirs, an arrangement was made.

They were as much delighted with his company as with the small amount of money he offered. He was in his mid-30s and divorced. The farm couple consisted of a man around 50 and a wife approximately five years younger. There were no children evident.

There was no cell service way out there but he set up a portable Internet satellite unit and that would be his way to communicate. The husband scoffed at this but the wife, whose name was Nina, was fascinated with the small computer he put on the ancient wooden desk in his room. She had rarely left the area and so exposure to a foreigner was mind-boggling and she had to conceal her interest so her husband would not become jealous.

Nina was tasked with showing him around the farm and answering his questions. She was delighted and asked more than she answered. She couldn’t read English but watched him typing on the computer and would bring him little treats to get his attention. He recognized how starved she was for that and tried within reason to complement her. She would beam with happiness at the smallest thing.

She insisted on straightening up his room like maid service at a hotel. Usually he would indicate with his door left open that her entrance was anticipated but one time he stayed up very late writing and slept in much longer than usual. The husband, by the way, was usually gone before sun up and often did not return until the evening. It was a hard scrabble life.

This particular time she was concerned about him and pushed the door open to check if he was okay. It was warm and he was laying nude on the bed, on his side facing the door. She almost squeaked in surprise at seeing this younger naked body with his morning wood projecting proudly out from his crotch. She retired quickly and she thought quietly but the squeaking of the door awakened him and through partly opened eyes he saw her flushed face as she stared until the door was completely closed.

She tried to hide it but he saw some changes in her behavior and she seemed even more desirous of his company the rest of that day. That night, he was reading when he heard sounds through the air ventilation duct from their bedroom below. The rhythmic squeaking of the bed and some suppressed moans were clear indications they were copulating. He thought about that morning and his hand went down to stroke his unrequited pecker. As those sounds reached a peak he ejaculated into a tissue, trying to visualize what her naked body would be like.

She was slim because food was not overly abundant and she was very active since little of the daily work was automated in any way. Her face was plain but not ugly and her bosom seemed nicely proportional to the rest of her although it was hard to tell from the loose peasant blouses that she usually wore.

At breakfast the next morning he couldn’t resist making a comment that she seemed to enjoy her husband’s attention at bedtime. She blushed and got apologetic, saying that it was not polite since he had no woman. There was a pause when she seemed to gather her strength and said, “I am a woman and maybe you like me for feel good.” At that she turned and went back to the kitchen, feeling both brave and shy at the same time.

He said nothing, unsure whether this was a legitimate offer and what the consequences might be. She acted the same as usual the rest of the day but that night he heard sounds of intercourse again only her moans and noises were louder than the night before. Was she trying to entice him?

That she was became obvious at lunchtime when she served the food without her blouse. When she saw his eyes riveting on her nicely shaped bosom, she moved close and pushed a nipple at his mouth. Reflexively he sucked on it and his other hand quickly came up to cup the other full breast. With her moans like the nights before, he knew there was no turning back and he spent the next hour repeatedly filling that receptive place between her legs. She was strong and eager and seemed a bit dismayed when he ran out of energy.