Apple Trees - Cover

Apple Trees

by Big guy on a bike

Copyright© 2009 by Big guy on a bike

Romantic Sex Story: Brian finds some teenagers damaging apple trees in his garden. The direction it takes him surprises everyone

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Oral Sex   .

Thanks to my editor, Mulligan, for the time and effort spent in helping me get this story posted.

Safe sex:

In this story there are no consequences from unprotected unsafe sex, no diseases and no unwanted pregnancies, but remember it is a story, not the real world.

Language usage:

Readers from other parts of the world should note that most of this story is set in the UK, and the language is that which you find in the UK.

If any of the words are a problem have a look at http://www.english2american.com, and if this doesn't provide the answer e-mail me.

Story codes:

I haven't added a violent code, but there are two very short scenes where there is some violence, however it is quite low level and I don't think it would offend anyone, but if you are extra sensitive you have been warned

Jeanette was a pain in the arse, well more than that really. She was a foul-mouthed example of why many people hate youngsters. If anything was broken or went missing in our village you can bet Jeanette and her siblings were behind it. However, in spite of her attitude she was an attractive young woman. She had long unruly red hair, and was developing an eye-catching figure. I think someone must have been putting miracle grow on her boobs, as they started growing when she was about 12, and hadn't stopped, or so it seemed. She was always heavily made up, and wore outrageous clothes, which usually were designed to show the maximum possible amount of cleavage, boob and leg.

At 11 she was full of mischief, as she progressed through her teens the mischief turned into more. By 17 she was the scourge of the village where we lived. She had pissed everyone off. Some of the older residents were scared of her and her foul mouth; other residents took other measures depending upon their own outlook, and I know her long suffering mother was repaying several residents a few pounds a week to pay for damage caused by her wayward daughter.

Mrs. Billings had 5 children, with Jeanette being the oldest. She had produced the 5 at roughly one-year intervals until the worthless piece of shit that called himself a husband decided that he would move on shortly after the youngest was born. Mrs. Kimberly Billings tried to raise them on her own, but although she had been a good wife to her husband she was too soft with the children, and with her husband gone they had pushed against the boundaries, found none, and went wild.

My involvement began one lazy hot late August afternoon. My house, although only 2 bedrooms, was an old farmworker's cottage, and it had a long garden stretching down to the fields which surrounded the village. The garden was a bit of a liability really. Gardening wasn't my strong point, and when I moved here last year after my marriage broke up I decided to grass the bottom half, which had previously been a vegetable garden, and planted some fruit trees as there was already a large apple tree there. I was sat on the grass under the kitchen window, listening to cricket on a Walkman radio.

It was quite unusual for me to be just sat, but I hate the heat, and it was hot. It was probably the hottest day of the year, and I overdid the beer the previous evening, and woke up that morning feeling sorry for myself. I was now over the worst of that, but my energy levels were sapped by the heat and the after-effects of the hangover; so I was having a rare 'chilled out' day.

As I sat listening I could hear sounds coming from the garden. I couldn't see what was going on, as there was a thick hedge, which separated what used to be vegetable garden from the house. I went down to investigate. As I appeared from around the hedge 3 of the Billings brats ran off towards the low wall that separated the garden from the field. The little bastards had ripped the branches off of two of the apple trees, and uprooted them. I was furious, and I gave chase. Jeanette Billings decided to turn and face me, and called out "You can't fucking catch us" before turning to run again. This was her undoing, it allowed me to gain those few extra yards, and I dived at her, taking her down in a classic rugby tackle.

As she tried to pick herself up she stopped to spit at me and again this gave me a vital second and I grabbed her wrists, and dragged her up. At this she carried on with her attitude, and looked at me and sneered "You can't fucking touch me". Wrong! I was now beyond furious, it was red mist time. I dragged Jeanette to a small wooden shed, which housed the various gardening implements.

I threw her over a pile of sacks and rubbish, and paddled her arse with my hand, as hard as I could, and trust me it was HARD. She had a very short pair of shorts on, they were thin, and I was in a major temper, so it hurt. I think the shock of my reaction had taken the fight out of the normally rebellious teenager, and after the third whack she started to snivel. Two more and she was sobbing, and two more after that and between the sobs she said, "OK I'm sorry! Please stop, it fucking kills!"

I dragged her to her feet again and said very calmly and quietly, said "You still owe me for two new apple trees, they were around £30 each, and YOU can replant them. I will see your mother about paying me off"

I then marched her up the garden, round the side of the house and up the village. By now Jeanette was recovering her composure, and said "I will report you for that beating, and you'll get into trouble". I replied, again very quietly "Yes you could, and I would get into trouble, but just think what I might do to you after I'd been to court, and got a fine or even prison. I have already proved that I am not afraid of you and that physically you are no match for me, so the eventual outcome would be pain and suffering for you. I am sick of you and your brothers and sisters running riot, so after I leave you with your mother you should keep out of my way, forever. And don't do anything stupid like reporting me because that will just make me more angry than I was today"

By now we were at her house, and I barged her through the gate, still holding her wrists. Her mother was working in the garden and she looked up and said, "Jeanette, what have you been doing to Mr. Swinton?"

I answered for her, conveniently leaving out the smacked arse, and told Mrs. Billings she owed me about £60, and that I would send her the bill when I had ordered two new trees and that I expected Jeanette to do the replanting as well.

Mrs. Billings looked close to tears, and said, "I am sorry. I will pay you, but it will have to be weekly, as I don't get much money. I could probably afford £5 a week". I knew she was already paying at least two other people for damage caused by her wayward daughter, and I felt a bit sorry for her, but not sorry enough to let her off. I looked at Jeanette and said, "You have left school, why don't you get a job, to help your mother out". She looked about to reply, probably with a 'fuck you', but thought better of it and went into the house.

By now I had calmed down a little, and left to return home. As I left Mrs. Billings said, "I am sorry. I do try, but she won't listen to me"

I replied "Well she listened to me, perhaps you need to change your tactics"

When I got home I thought about the encounter, and decided that Jeanette had taken my warning seriously, and I that I probably would hear no more about it.

I dropped the bill for 2 new fruit trees in on the Monday, and on the Thursday Mrs. Billings showed up with the first payment of £5. She seemed quite embarrassed and disappeared before I could speak to her. The trees would need planting when they arrived, and I still meant to make Jeanette plant them. The nursery however advised me that they would not be able to dispatch the trees for another 2 months, as you should not disturb them during the growing season.

About a week later I broke my leg. I was still playing veterans' rugby at 45 years old, and it was a warm up match before the season proper kicked off. It was a pure accident, but I was looking at 8-12 weeks in plaster. I immediately realised that normal activities were going to be a problem. Driving, shopping, even housework would be difficult, if not impossible. A colleague at work said that he had employed a sort of home help when he broke his leg, and taking his advice I placed an ad in the local paper "Male requires help about the house and beyond, while broken leg heals - ring ... evenings."

The paper came out on a Thursday, and I was waiting in to see what response I got. There was a knock at the door, and Mrs. Billings was stood on the step, with her stroppy daughter behind her.

"Can we come in, I want to talk to you," Mrs. Billings asked.

I let them in, and I looked hard at Jeanette. She was wearing her usual tart clothes and makeup, but she said nothing. That was a first.

Mrs. Billings got to the point straight away. "Would you give Jeanette the job?"

I was gob smacked. This was the girl I had given a trashing to less than a fortnight ago.

Mrs. Billings carried on "She WILL behave, I will promise, and if she doesn't you can punish her again"

So Jeanette had told her mum about my thrashing her.

I looked at Mrs. Billings again and said, "Why should I? What's in it for me? I have already had two other applicants." That was a lie, but I felt I was being manoeuvred into something that quite frankly scared me.

"Because Jeanette lives just up the road; because she needs a job; and because with no public transport into Easingwold her chances of getting a job are zero. She will work extra hours without complaining, to help me clear the bills that she has left me with."

I decided to put the first hurdle up, "Jeanette cannot drive, and I need someone to drive me about."

"She can drive, and she has a provisional licence. Her aunt helped her get it when she turned 17. But with no job she cannot afford a car, and without a car she cannot get a job. She could drive your car when you are in it, with L plates on"

I could feel this one going on and on, and in desperation I said, "OK I will think about it. Come back tomorrow."

Why did Jeanette appear to be going along with her mum on this? Was she going to play some horrible trick on me for the thrashing I gave her?

Well, I did have one phone call about the job, from a woman in Easingwold. I asked her to come and see me. On the phone she sounded ideal, but when she arrived I realised she was a hopeless case. She smelt, not just a bit sweaty but a good case of unadulterated BO. It was vile, there was no way I could bear to be anywhere near her. She was another single mum who complained about not being able to hold a job down. I could see why. I had no other replies.

So the following day I had a choice if I wanted some help, Miss Bad Attitude 1992, aka Jeanette, or Miss Smelly Cow. Not much of a choice really, and I was almost ready to abandon the whole idea, but things at home really were getting on top of me. The house needed a good clean. And at 81 my mother didn't want to be driving me everywhere. She didn't like driving now. So heads: Miss BA, tails: Miss BO, and that is really how I decided! The 50p piece came down heads. Miss BA was the winner.

The following afternoon Jeanette was on the doorstep at 5pm, as soon as my mum dropped me off from work. I had told my mum that she was going to be relieved of some of the running about soon, and she was pleased. She wouldn't drive into York, where I worked, so I had to get a bus to Easingwold, where she picked me. She lived in Easingwold.

As I hobbled up the path on crutches Jeanette turned to me and said "Let me help you". As I had already decided to give her the job I handed her my door key. She let us in, and I told her to go through to the living room as I wanted to talk to her.

She said, "Can I make us both a cup of tea first?" I struggled through to the kitchen, and showed her where things were, and she said, "I know you don't think much of me. And I reckon you haven't had any other replies, or I wouldn't even be stood here now. But I'm not thick you know!" I said, "OK, point taken," and I waited in the living room for her to appear. Which she did after a few minutes, with two mugs of tea and a packet of biscuits.

She sat down opposite me and said, "Have I got the job then?" I looked at her and said "Probably, but I want to talk to you first".

"Why do you want the job?"

"Because I get bored, and there is nothing to do round here. I can't afford a car or even a scooter, and unless I have my own transport I can't get a job."

"Why the sudden change of heart? A fortnight ago you were everyone's worst nightmare."

"Because when I told mum you spanked me she said 'Good, it's about time someone took you down a peg or two!' I was expecting her to go mental at you for hitting me, and I was going to use it to get her off paying the £60. But instead she told me that it served me right, and that if there had been a man in the house I would have been looking at another one. Anyway, I suppose it was the wakeup call I needed. Plus when mum had calmed down a bit she poured her heart out to me. She is at the end of her tether. Money is tight, and well, I think if you want the honest truth she is depressed, badly depressed. She doesn't look after herself, and she cries every night in bed. I don't think she knows that I know. But I hear her, and well, she is my mum, and in spite of what people think I love her!"

"So how is this job going to help?"

"If I earn even £100 a week for 8 weeks I can buy a scooter, and get a job, and a life."

"OK, I had budgeted for more than £100 a week, I think it will be 40 hour weeks at least. Why the sudden rush to join the wage slaves?"

At this Jeanette started to cry. Crying women upset me, as I never know what to do or say.

Jeanette pulled herself together, and said, "I've also just dumped my boyfriend."

"OK, why?"

"Because I overheard him say to one of his mates, 'Don't worry, Jeanette is a good shag, but she's not a keeper. When someone better comes along she will be history. She'll end up like all the tarts on the estates, with 2 kids, fat and skanky'."

I had seen her boyfriend once, and had to admit that he looked several classes above her, and he obviously felt the same way. Still I did feel a bit sorry for Jeanette.

I decided to set the rules out now: "I will take you on a week's trial. I have rung my insurance company, and they will add you to the policy for a king's ransom. So I want to see if you really can drive."

"You will do the housework, and have a meal waiting for me when I get in. I will give you housekeeping money, and I expect you to account for it. One day a week you will take me to work and then you will spend the day in York. I expect you to do the shopping. You will have Sundays and Mondays off. I will expect you to drive me around on Saturdays, and expect to be late back sometimes. Overall I expect you to work about 40 hours, and I will pay you £180 a week. Don't break my trust! I will be checking on you in ways you can't even conceive of, and if I find you have broken my trust in any way your life will not be worth living."

Jeanette got up and gave me a hug, and said, "Thank you, you won't regret it."

I then decided to broach the topic of dress, and I said "You are an attractive young woman, but your dress sense is a bit wayward. Most of the time you wear clothes which give the wrong impression."

Jeanette looked at me, and said, "I know, Mum says I look like a tart. But Mum is so dowdy, and I don't want to look like her"

"It's not about your mum, it's about you. When you are with me I want you to look nice"

"What do you mean, wear a dress?"

"No, just look tidy. Clean jeans and a nice top will do most of the time, but no micro-shorts and crop tops that leave nothing to the imagination. And leave the heavy make up off; a little lip gloss and some light make up is all you need."

"So I have caught your attention then?"

"Yes, but not in the right way. Think back to what your ex-boyfriend said, and then look at yourself from his point of view. What did he see?"

"I suppose."

"And, your mother isn't that old." I had put her at a couple of years older than me, maybe 47.

When Jeanette said she was only 37 I didn't say anything, but bringing up that brood on her own had obviously taken its toll.

Anyway, talk over, I told her to start the following day by giving the house a good clean, and I would see her when I got in from work. I suggested she start at about 11, and I gave her a key. I hoped I wouldn't regret it, but after our talk I thought she was on the level.

When I got in from work Jeanette had made a good start on the housecleaning, and had prepared a reasonable meal out of things from the freezer. As she finished preparing it she said, "Can I eat my meal with you? It's nice to have an adult conversation, and a bit of peace. At home someone is always kicking off."

I said, "OK, if you want eat with me that's fine. We need to see what your driving skills are like when we have eaten."

We chatted away during the meal, and I realised that as she was turning into a woman she was feeling isolated. Her mum didn't have time for her with 4 younger ones to look after, and there was no one else in the village who she could or would talk to.

I took her out in the car after tea, and she was right, she could drive. She lacked experience, but she had the basics. However reversing was a serious problem, but she would improve with time. Where she had acquired her driving skills I did not dare ask.

Saturday came along, and we had settled into a routine. I got her to take me to B&Q for some things that I needed and to M&S for some food shopping. She cooked tea Saturday night, and she asked me if I had a girlfriend. I said no. She said "Good, because sitting outside some girl's house waiting while you had sex isn't my idea of fun."

I just blushed.

I then said, "You can finish early this week, but next week I want to go out, and the following week is the Rugby club veterans dinner, and you can take me, and wait for me."

I then paid her for her first few days work, which at £4.50 an hour came to £67.50.

I then realised my leg was hurting a bit. Being out most of the day had obviously taken its toll, so Sunday I stayed in and put my feet up.

Tuesday Jeanette was preparing a meal when I got in, and the house now looked clean and tidy. I went upstairs to wash and change, and when I came down the meal was served.

I sat down, and as soon as Jeanette sat down she looked at me and said, "Can I ask you something? And before you explode just hear me out. Would you take my mum, Kim, out please?"

I just sat there. I didn't know what to say, and I decided that saying nothing was best. After a few seconds of silence Jeanette continued.

"I know she looks old and worn, but if I took her to the hairdressers, and got her some new clothes she is an attractive woman."

So this was why Jeanette wanted to work for me, to 'fix' her mother up.

Jeanette carried on when I still didn't answer "Please, just once, to get her back into doing things? I'll look after the younger ones, and I promise there won't be any running riot."

I still didn't know quite what to say and I thought for a few seconds. Anyway, what the hell! When I considered it, Kimberley Billings could be an attractive woman. She had long brown hair, and a decent figure, it was just always buried under non-descript worn out clothes, and her hair always looked untidy and unkempt.

"OK, I will. I am not making any promises for the longer term. I finish work early tomorrow. I will be in by 4.30pm. You can have the afternoon off, and I will pick your mum up at 5:30pm, and we will go for a meal. I'll book a taxi."

Jeanette said "I could drive and wait for you, and then bring you home."

"No, I would rather not. I don't think having a date with your mum under the watchful gaze of her daughter is going to add anything to the atmosphere."

"May be you're right. Promise you won't let me down though? At least one date?"

"No, I won't. What are you going to tell your mum?"

"The truth. I asked you to take her out, and you agreed."

Jeanette seemed to be happy, and when she left at about 6.30pm she said, "Don't let me down now. I am taking my mum into town in the morning to get her hair done, and to buy some clothes."

The following day went quickly. I was busy at work, and I got home at 4:30pm. A colleague dropped me off Mondays and Wednesdays.

I washed and changed, and waited for the taxi. I had booked a table at a small restaurant on the way to York. It had good food and I thought it would be just right, not too ostentatious.

The taxi arrived on time, and we stopped at the Billings' house. Jeanette brought her mum to the car, and I could hardly believe it was the same woman. She looked 15 years younger. Her hair was brushed; she was lightly made up. She was wearing a nice pair of tailored jeans which showed a nice bum and hips, and she had a top which showed just enough cleavage to be interesting. Kim had a good pair of boobs!

Jeanette was stood behind her and gave me the thumbs up sign, and I nodded. Kim got in the back with me, and we set off. She said, "This feels weird! It's the first time I have been out with anyone since Keith left, and that was nine years ago."

I looked at her and said "Well you look good, and I am proud to be the first." Kim looked happy at the complement, and we started to chat about our lives.

We got to the restaurant, and ordered. Kim asked about my leg, and I said it was healing well. Soon enough the conversation got around to her daughter. She told me what happened after I had thrashed her.

When she got home after the thrashing she told Kim what had happened. As Kim said, "I told her she deserved it, and not to come to me for sympathy, and that if Jeanette complained to the police I told her I would tell them that she was lying to divert attention from her vandalism. You must have spanked her hard, because she could hardly sit down. Things came to a head the following day when she heard her boyfriend talking about her, and she dumped him. We had a heart-to-heart that night, we both cried, and we both agreed to turn over a new leaf. She would try and get a job and clean her act up, and I would try and get my life back before it was too late. It was more of a woman-to-woman talk than a mother-daughter talk. I know she has been having sex for 3 years, because I put her on the pill. But it was the first time I actually saw her as a woman."

We had an enjoyable evening, and after the meal we went to nearby pub that had a quiz on. We entered, and did OK. Kim was good on TV and celebrity questions, and I could answer the ones on current affairs, and science, etc. We came in third overall out of 20 teams, and we were one of only 3 teams of 2, the rest were all 3 or more. The winners had 4 people. The evening seemed to have flown by, and at 11pm I was ordering a taxi to take us home.

In the taxi Kim said, "Thanks, for a nice evening. I can come back to yours if you want, Jeanette said she will watch the kids." I wasn't sure, but didn't want to seem to be cruel, so I agreed and we ended up back at my house. As soon as we got in Kim made us some tea and came and sat with me.

We were chatting away when all of a sudden she grabbed me and kissed me, full on the lips. I responded. The view down Kim's cleavage was making me horny, and after another 5 minutes of tongue hockey and mutual groping, we both made for the stairs and the bedroom. I don't know who made the first move, I think we both did it together.

We got to the bedroom and undressed quickly, we were both now very horny. Kim's body was nice when she undressed, her boobs had a little sag as you would expect, but her brown curly hair cascaded down around her shoulders, and it framed a pretty face. We made it to the bed, and started exploring each other's bodies. I very quickly caught the hot woman smell from between her legs, and explored with my finger. She was shaved smooth there. She whispered sexily "Jeanette told me to shave, because men prefer it." I replied "I'll show you how much I like it if you open your legs." She opened them and I scooted between her legs and started to tease her with my tongue. I was obviously doing something right judging by the appreciative little moans and gasps coming from Kim.

Kim climaxed quickly from my tongue, and then pushed me away and said "Your turn now!" She rolled me onto my back, and swallowed my rockhard dick. Kim delivered a first class blowjob, and had me climaxing in minutes. As I calmed down after my orgasm she said, "OK, first one is out of the way, now we can take our time."

We did take our time. With my leg in plaster we found that we could do a 69, and Kim could ride me, but missionary or doggy were out. When Kim first lowered herself onto me the feeling was amazing, in spite of 5 children she was still tight, and her natural juices were copious so the sex was wonderful.

We must have been making love for over an hour, and went to sleep spooned up against each other. I don't know if Kim had intended to stay the night but the next morning I awoke first, and probed her pussy with my dick. My plaster meant that I couldn't finish like that, and Kim woke and said "Come on then, on your back, let me ride you." We both smelt of sex, but I think that just turned us both on all the more, and we both came quickly. Kim then made for the shower. Getting a shower was a problem for me, but I had found that by wrapping the whole leg in a black bin liner I could have a proper shower. Kim laughed at my antics, and helped me. Kim then said "God it's 7.30am, I need to be home to get the kids off to school." I kissed her as she left, and we made a date for Saturday night.

I saw Jeanette that evening when I arrived home, and she immediately said, "You and mum didn't waste any time did you?"

I replied "No!"

Jeanette didn't say any more, for which I was thankful; discussing your sex life with your new girlfriend's daughter didn't seem normal.

During the day I had thought about Kim. We were certainly in lust, but somehow it felt more like friends with benefits than lovers, and this worried me, I wondered how Kim felt about our relationship. Anyway we were going out Saturday night. Perhaps things would be clearer then.

Saturday morning Jeanette arrived prompt at 9am as I had asked to take me into York to do shopping. Her driving was improving steadily, and I asked her about taking her test. She told me she was saving up for it. I told her I would pay for her test and a few lessons when my cast came off if she was still working for me, as a sort of finishing bonus. I thought however that I might well ask her to continue working on a part time basis, to do some cleaning etc. It was nice coming home and not having to worry about housework, and I could certainly afford the wages. I decided to broach the subject nearer the time.

We got back home at around 2pm and by the time she had put things away it was 3pm. I told her she could finish early again providing she made the time up next Saturday by taking me and waiting for me at the Rugby Club dinner. I wondered if I would take Kim.

Jeanette then said, "Brian, sit down, I want to talk to you". I had asked her to call me by my first name, as I didn't like being 'Mr. Swinton' all the time.

I sat down and Jeanette sat opposite me and had a serious look on her face. "I want to talk to you about mum."

"What about her?"

"She enjoyed going out with you, and coming back here, but she doesn't love you."

I felt awkward again, discussing our relationship with Kim's daughter, and it must have shown.

"I've upset you. I don't want to, it's just that if you and mum fall out I may be out of a job, and I don't want that. I enjoy working for you, and it's given me the I chance need to get on, and I don't want it to go pear shaped."

"We have been out once, and spent one night together. Love may or may not develop, but we enjoyed each other's company, in the bedroom and out of it. That is enough for me at the moment, I went through a painful divorce, and I'm still getting over that"

"OK, please, whatever you do, don't tell her I've talked to you. But I could see my situation getting difficult if you two fall out."

"Well, the doctors reckon the cast will be off in about 6 weeks anyway, and then it isn't a problem. Have you thought about what you will do next?"

I wanted to move the conversation away from Kim and me.

"I think you have enjoyed not having to do housework, I wondered if I might still have a part time job when the cast comes off?"

"It had crossed my mind, but I will stick to my promise about lessons and a test once the cast is off, even if we decide to carry on on a part time basis after that. But really you should be looking for a full time job"

"I will once I have transport, but I wondered if I would be better taking several local cleaning jobs as there are not many openings for someone with no qualifications. OK, so I could work at McDonalds's or somewhere similar, and I will if I have to. But I reckon I could make more money doing cleaning for people."

 
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