With the inheritance from my parents who had died in an automobile collision, the legal settlement from that, and some good investments, I decided to retire at thirty. Well, maybe I should say “change my life”. I’d worked hard and never found a “perfect partner”, although the blond I said goodbye to was pretty good in and out of bed.
I’d also inherited my grandparents’ house at the edge of a small farming community in eastern Oklahoma. I was tired of the city so I thought I’d try the bucolic life. I’d visited there as a youngster and my father had spoken fondly of a girl he knew at a nearby farm, confiding to me that she had taught him “about women”. Her name was Freyda and she’d come to the states as a youngster with her Austrian parents who had become successful farmers, building quite a large holding of land for hay and grazing cattle.
When I’d settled in I got directions and went searching for her. It took a while when I found the farm to locate her. She was up to her elbows in a cow’s birth canal, assisting in a delivery. “Hello. Who are you?” was the greeting with a still-evident German accent.
She asked me to get her some things and I saw the calf take its first breaths. “Why are you here?” was typical of her direct manner so I explained about my father having worked there. The answer to “How is he?” got a sad look in her face. “I’m sorry for the news. I liked him a lot when he worked here.”
She cleaned up and led me to the farmhouse for some strong tea and cookies. We visited a bit then she said, “If you wish to talk more you must go with me while I do chores.” I helped where I could, my first introduction to farm life. I learned that she only had a high-school formal education but had a PHD (piled higher and deeper) in growing hay and grazing cattle in OK.
Just as I was about to leave I asked, “Would you have dinner with me on Saturday night?”
She smiled a big one. “A date? I haven’t had one of those in years. Of course. What time?”
When I picked her up she looked almost pretty wearing a dated dress, some makeup, and her salt-and-pepper hair fixed up a little. She was a solid woman with not much curve at her waist but nicely proportioned ones above her flat belly. We had to drive an hour to find a good restaurant and she was delighted to be treated like a “lady”. The time flew by. On the way back, as we approached her place, she reached over for my hand. “Tony, it’s late for you to drive back to town. You are welcome to stay with me.” Of course I accepted gracefully and with a bit of enthusiasm for whatever implications there were.
She simply led me to her bedroom and showed me where the toilet was and sat on it first, peeing right in front of me, then brushed her teeth as I drained my bladder. She put on no nightclothes. As I got in the other side of the bed it was as if I’d usually been there. It was almost matter-of-fact as she caressed my body and enjoyed mine in return. Copulating with her was just the most natural thing in the world and then she was snoring as I mulled what had just happened.
I’d just buried my bone in a woman twenty years older than me who had enjoyed my father’s in there before I was born. Damn! It was no big deal to her, just a basic need like eating. I was fascinated and knew I’d want to spend more time with her whether dressed or not.
She liked my attention and said my body felt good to her. When I questioned she unabashedly gave me straight answers. She’d never married, being wedded to the farm. There were always enough men available for sex, farm help like my father, neighbor boys and sometimes their fathers. She volunteered that she’d even kept her own father satisfied after her mother died. Yes, there was one farmhand currently who was only there daytimes and she fucked him a couple of times a week so adding me was a pleasure.