May the Best Man Win

by Raven Soule

Copyright© 2011 by Raven Soule

Romantic Sex Story: Jerry didn't talk much, he let his actions speak for him. One day his actions had to speak a lot louder than most.

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

Jerry Purnell rested his finger tips on the wheel of the tractor and leant to the side, watching the line of the furrows through the large mirror. His fingers sensed the tractors front wheels slide to the left and he took action without conscious thought. The furrows stayed as arrow straight as he had always ploughed them since his tenth birthday.

Jerry was a farmer. Farming the land was in his blood. He could walk a field and tell which parts would need greater care, more fertiliser, and deeper ploughing depth. He knew to the ounce how much nitrate feed to use on each square yard, where the run-off would occur and how to preserve the hedges and borders. The whole county knew that Jerry was a farmer's farmer. Land that Jerry husbanded thrived and prospered.

Dave Purnell, Jerry's older brother, wasn't a farmer. Oh, he tried. He actually tried harder than anyone in the county. He'd been to agricultural college, passed with honours. He knew all of the latest techniques and theories, but he just didn't know the land. He had no 'feel' for the crops. He always did everything just a bit too early, or just a shade too late.

And now, three months after Dave and Julie had married, old Harrison, the family's solicitor, had to read their fathers will. Their father, their Dad, had died as he'd lived, farming their land, soil clutched in his hand and a smile on his weather-beaten face.

They were orphans now, their mother having fallen to cancer nearly ten years before. In some ways they both felt that Dad had only stayed with them until he was sure that their land would be safe, until the next generation of Purnell's were ready to farm the rolling countryside that was their birthright.

And now they waited to find out who would take over the family farm.

The Purnell brothers became rivals the day Jerry learned to crawl. From that day on they fought like cat & dog, more than once one or the other had to be taken to the local hospital to have bones set or skin stitched. More than once the other felt their Dad's strap across their rear end. Neither boy complained about, nor tried to avoid, their punishments.

Everything had changed though when, aged eleven, Dave caught mumps. Jerry overheard his parents and their doctor, in the front parlour, talking about Dave, how very, very ill he was, how they feared for his life. Jerry was shocked by the glaring fact of his brother's mortality. From that day onward the boys never fought. They were still rivals in the small, unimportant things, but Jerry always looked out for his big brother, and Dave learned to trust, and respect, his little brother.

Jerry was the little brother in nearly all ways. He took after his father, small at 5' 4'', slim built, never topping 8 stone, and with mousy brown hair. He was the one you'd pass by in the street, the one you'd never notice, the one everyone forgot. Jerry, like his father, only spoke when he had something worthwhile to say. And that wasn't often.

Dave got his height and good looks from his mother, tall at 6' 2", a strapping well-muscled man, a man's man. Hair, so black it almost shone in the sunlight, topped a ruggedly handsome face, blue eyes that embraced you within their gaze, a ready, warming, smile that eased into your soul. Dave was everyone's friend; he needed two hours to buy seed. Everyone stopped to talk to Dave, Dave talked to everyone.

Jerry followed Dave through school. The teachers all remarked on the difference between the brothers. Dave's easy command of the subjects they fed him, Jerry's painful struggle to master the simplest of the academic subjects. Dave's mastery of the sports fields, his captaincy of the football team. Jerry's poor performance in any sport other than cross-country running, and then the school had to stop him taking part in that as he got ... distracted. They'd find him wandering through the fields in his running kit. Sometimes talking to the farmers, sometimes he'd be mending fences. Sometimes he'd just be running his fingers through the earth, a satisfied smile on his lips.

After school they both worked on the farm. When Dave bought a baseball cap to shade his eyes, Jerry just pulled an old used flat cap from the hallway coat hanger and plonked it on his head.

Dave started a paper round to earn some spending money. Jerry picked up his father's old .22 rifle and toured the local farms, small holdings and the larger houses and cleared them of rabbits. Each field cleared of these pests was worth £20, and each rabbit was worth 50 pence when delivered to the local butchers. Jerry soon became a common sight walking the fields, a rifle tucked under his arm and his cap shading his eyes, a brace or more of rabbits hanging over his shoulders.

On his seventeenth birthday Dave received a second-hand car, an old Ford Escort. Dave quickly passed his test and then proudly drove around the villages showing off his prize possession.

Jerry persuaded a local farmer to give him an old, rusty and broken-down Land Rover. The farmer, chuckling to himself for, finally, managing to get this heap of junk out of his yard, towed it to the Purnell farm. Let Jerry and his Dad deal with it he laughed to himself. Jerry found two other, similar vehicles in the local area and they too were towed to the old barn Jerry had taken over as his own. Eight weeks later Jerry started taking the remains of the two worse Land Rovers to the local scrap yard. He delivered them in the back of the one he rebuilt from scavenged parts. No one mentioned the fact that Jerry didn't have a driving license, road tax or insurance. That was for the city folk to worry about, not here, where a four-wheel drive vehicle was the life-blood of a farm. After clearing the yard of the unwanted scrap, Jerry was scrupulous in ensuring that he only drove on private property. The property owners saw him driving about, chuckled quietly to themselves and turned back to their tasks.

Dave started helping his mother with the farm's books and tax returns. Soon he was dealing with all of the farms financial affairs. Both his Mum and Dad were relieved at him taking up this burden, and amazed as his success in dealing with, and getting money out of, the government bureaucracy.

Jerry left 'his' rifle in its rack and picked up the keys for the tractor. He started ploughing. It took Jerry two fields to get the hang of ploughing. His father never commented on his first two attempts and only looked once at the third field.

"Nice," he complemented Jerry.

Jerry looked over the straight, even, furrows and nodded. He didn't have anything to say.

Jerry did most of the ploughing from then on. He also helped out when neighbours were in trouble. When bitter old Mark Bakewell broke his leg climbing over a rotten gate, Jerry ploughed and sowed his fields. Never asking permission to do it, nor receiving thanks. Jerry knew that he'd done a good job, and so did bitter old Bakewell.

Dave was accepted into a prestigious university to study agricultural science. This was a huge step, not only for him but the whole local community. Very few of the locals had been accepted at any university, let alone one of such a high standing. Friends and neighbours were calling on the Purnell farm for weeks congratulating him and his parents on his success.

For Jerry, Dave's departure was a huge shock. Dave was a major part of his life, Dave was his big brother. Jerry started doing more and more around the farm.

It was at this time that his mother was diagnosed with cervical cancer. The prognosis was poor, the cancer had already spread and the question was not if she was going to die, but when.

Jerry's Dad spent more and more time caring for his wife, watching her fade from the vibrant, lively girl who'd captured his heart at a young farmers dance, into the deathly pale, skeletally thin, shadow of her former self. Jerry was rarely allowed to see his mother during her later days. He didn't hold this against his Dad. He knew that his dad was trying the best that he knew, to protect his wife, and allow her to maintain her dignity, as well as protect his son's memories of his mother. Jerry watched his Dad work himself near to his own death caring for the love of his life.

Dave, of course, came home for the funeral. He hadn't been told about her illness, this caused a huge argument between him and his Dad. Jerry spoke to Dave about their mother's final weeks, explaining how their dad had done the best that he could. And that he took their mother's wishes into account, not just theirs. Dave accepted his brother's explanations and, with a heavy heart, he made his peace with his Dad.

It was Jerry who met Julie Sanders first. She yelled at him as he was correcting a hedgerow which had been badly woven.

"Hey! Boy!" Julie yelled, "What do you think that you're doing?"

Jerry looked up from the branches he was reweaving, at the girl in school uniform on the other side of the hedge.

"Fixing this," he answered.

She stood there shocked at his answer.

"It took one of my father's men two days to do this and you've ruined all his hard work." She was furious.

Jerry looked up and down the hedge, then he continued his work.

Julie stared at the silent boy for nearly five minutes. While she was shocked at his audacity in redoing this hedge, he was certainly quick in his work reweaving it. She couldn't see any difference in how it had been and how it was now. But she knew that she'd better tell her father about this and quickly too.

Mike Sanders got out of his Range Rover and studied the hedgerow. He could see that it was weaved just as it should be. Then he noticed that the twists on the branches had been reset. He looked at the boy, incongruous in his running kit, finishing off the end of the hedge.

He walked along the hedge, testing it here and there, noting the excellent quality of the workmanship. Finally he reached the boy.

"Mike Sanders," he said.

Jerry nodded and continued his tidying up.

"You've done a good job on the hedge." Mike continued. During his short time here he'd become used to the taciturn manner of the locals.

"Needed to be done, wouldn't have lasted the season." Jerry finally looked at Mike.

"Why did you do it?" Mike asked quietly.

Jerry shrugged his shoulders. "You're new round here. This hedge was weaved wrong; it was the neighbourly thing to do."

"Thanks," said Mike, he knew better than to ask if the boy wanted cash for his troubles.

Jerry nodded.

Mike watched as Jerry turned to leave. The boy hesitated for a moment, then turned.

"Your north field, it's in clover now. Be careful how deep you plough it next season, you're due for some flint to rise." Jerry looked at Mike for a moment more and then walked away.

Mike smiled at the thought of that young lad giving him advice about his ploughing. Maybe when he'd been to university and got his degree Mike would listen. Mike walked slowly back to his Range Rover. That hedge was good though. He'd have a word with the man who'd originally done the work.

Julie sat down at the lunch table opposite the boy who she'd caught fixing her father's hedge the previous day.

"Hello, my names Julie Sanders. You fixed one of my father's hedges yesterday. He was really impressed with your work."

Jerry carried on slowly eating his lunch. He nodded toward her.

"What's your name," she asked, unused to this silence when she spoke to someone.

"Jerry Purnell." Jerry answered.

"There, that didn't hurt did it?" said Julie, smiling brightly.

Jerry looked at her for a few moments and then shook his head.

Their relationship didn't blossom into love, but they became friends, good friends. Julie was shocked, and then impressed, by Jerry's deep love for, and knowledge of, the land. Jerry liked her because she came to understand his quietness. Jerry didn't feel the need to speak, when he felt that he had something worth saying, he said it. That was good enough for Jerry. And Julie became used to waiting for the gems that came forth when he did speak.

They shared their lunch times, and were often seen walking the fields together. Close together but never hand in hand.

Jerry knew that Julie swam in the small pool at the junction of three fields on his father's farm. He'd seen her there a number of times and always changed direction to give her privacy while she swam. Once he'd been quite close when she emerged from the bushes and stepped into the pool. As soon as Jerry realised she was naked, he turned and walked back to the farm. There was work he could do there while Julie swam.

Julie watched him leaving, she was a little disappointed, it had taken her a few tries to get him to see her naked. And then he just walked away! Maybe she'd have better luck next time.

There never was a next time. Dave came home from university the next day. The day after that Dave and Julie met for the first time.

Jerry saw them stare at each other, neither saying a word, neither moving, both seemingly shocked into immobility by the sight of the other. This was love at first sight.

"Julie, this is my big brother, Dave; Dave, this is Julie." Jerry introduced them to each other. He doubted that they actually heard him.

Jerry smiled to himself, 'Dave has found his true love, and so has Julie, ' he thought. He was pleased for his brother, and for his friend Julie.

Jerry left them, still staring into the others eyes, climbed onto his tractor and drove off to begin harrowing the south field. There was always work to be done on a farm.

Dave and Julie were true soulmates. No one who saw them together doubted for an instant that they were meant to be together. Dave still had two years before he completed his degree. So their relationship grew and blossomed slowly, maturing as they too matured.

Dave finished his BSc and was offered a full scholarship for a Masters Degree. Julie would not hear any argument, her man was going to be the best that he could be. Dave was to get his Masters degree. His future wife had spoken!

This time when Dave left for university, Jerry grinned.

Jerry's life didn't really change when he finished school. He never achieved any great academic standard. He wasn't slow or stupid; he just didn't relate to the subjects he was being taught. Julie was offered a place at a local university to read accounting for her Bachelors degree. With some sadness Jerry stood by the side of the road and waved goodbye to his best friend, then he turned and resumed his work on the farm.

Dave returned home with his MSc and started working with the company that Mike worked for. Dave wanted to manage a farm like his (soon to be) father-in-law.

While Dave had been away the Purnell farm had prospered. Jerry's land management and husbandry increased the farms per-acre yield, and the blights and crop rusts that affected other farms in the area never got started in Jerry's crops.

While Dave remained pale skinned, only getting lightly tanned with effort, Jerry's face soon took on the true farmer's weather-beaten texture. Dave was a learned scholar, but Jerry was becoming a true man of the land.

Dave settled in learning how to be a farm manager, Jerry kept increasing his experience in being a farmer.

Jerry began to see Julie at the pool during her holidays. Now though Dave was always by her side. Sometimes they were swimming, sometimes basking in the warmth of the sun. Sometimes they were making their love, their cries of passion ringing across the hills.

Jerry always turned away and never told anyone what he had witnessed. He was truly pleased for both of them. He wished them the best that their lives had to offer; and hoped that he too would find his soulmate.

Dave and Julie were married in the local church. Practically the whole community attended. The vicar, a family man himself, understood the true purpose of marriage and made it widely known that children of all ages were welcome in his church, especially at weddings.

Jerry was Dave's best man; Julie had a cousin as her Matron of Honour, and nieces as her bridesmaids. Mike Sanders proudly walked his daughter up the aisle, then joined his crying wife.

The service was a happy affair. Children ran through the crowd, misbehaving, behaving remarkably well, charmed and disgusted, kept clean and got filthy, all in equal measure. The vicar was pleased. Let the happy couple see what children can be like, hopefully before they start bringing their own into the world.

The wedding breakfast had been provided by the community as a whole. Jerry's speech was short, though everyone would have been truly shocked had it been anything else. Each family had brought along something to share. Dave and Julie were the newest family in the community and everyone wanted to, felt a need to, welcome them

Listening to Dave's speech Jerry looked again at Julie, remembering last night. Jerry was relaxing in the kitchen, newspaper protecting the large table as he cleaned his shotgun, when Julie entered.

Jerry was surprised at this as both Dave and his father were out; Jerry assumed that they were finalising details for the service the next day.

As usual Jerry nodded to Julie.

Julie smiled at this comfortable greeting from the person she trusted very nearly as much as she trusted Dave.

"Look at me Jerry," she ordered, closing the door behind her. When she was sure that she had Jerry's full attention she slowly started undoing the buttons on her blouse.

"Didn't you every wonder why I spent so much time in that fucking pool?" Julie asked with a smile.

Jerry just shook his head.

"You know that the water was fucking freezing, don't you? So why did I keep trying to freeze my tits off, eh?"

Jerry pondered for a minute. He'd actually never thought about that. Now it was obvious that the small pool wouldn't have really been pleasant to swim in but ... Jerry's attention was suddenly ripped away from any thoughts about the pool as Julie dropped her bra on the table.

"Tomorrow I give my life to Dave. He's everything I want in a husband. But tonight I want to do something that I've been trying to do for months." Julie let her skirt fall to the floor and stepped out of it. Now only dressed in her panties, she stepped forward and took Jerry's head in her hands. Stooping to the seated man, she tenderly kissed him on his lips.

Jerry, dry mouthed and breathless, watched as she came to him, as she kissed him. As if acting on its own his hand rose and cupped her breast, feeling the weight and heat of her in his hand, the roughness of her engorged nipple pressing into his palm.

"I want you, Jerry. Take me to your bed and love me, I really do want this."

Jerry looked into her eyes and saw her desire, her need for him. He knew that this would never happen again, but was happy to receive this gift, this act of physical love that Julie wanted to bestow upon him.

Rising, Jerry washed his hands free of the gun oil coating them. He held out his hand to Julie and, hand in hand for the first and last time, he led her to his bed.

Effortlessly Jerry lifted Julie and laid her on the soft bed. He stood beside the bed and undressed. Julie watched as he uncovered his work hardened body. As his penis was released from the confines of his underwear, she smiled then leaned forward and took him into her mouth.

Jerry gasped as the furnace of her mouth fired his manhood. Gently he touched her head, desperately wanting to hold her, without her feeling that she was trapped.

Julie pulled back and looked up at him.

"Oh Jerry, you are such a gentle man, and I mean that in the best way I know. You are a true gentleman, and that's why I've wanted to do this for so long." Rising to her knees, Julie pulled him into a tight embrace and kissed him, her tongue slowly exploring his mouth. Julie pressed her body against his, feeling his skin exciting hers. She ran her fingers down his back, shocked at the sensations his hard muscles generated in her fingertips, sensations that ran along her arms and fired her nipples into almost painful tension.

Jerry eased her back down onto the mattress, kissing her eyes, her ears, her neck. His eyes took in the soft skin, the small pores and tiny hairs. His sensitive lips felt the heat from her skin, felt the blood pulsing through her arteries. He touched her neck with his lips, his tongue, his teeth. Julie surrendered herself to him, gave him full access to her tender body.

At each point Julie would gasp and try to press into him, try to gain more from each feather-light touch, each butterfly-soft kiss. Jerry moved down her body slowly. He kissed around each breast, climbing each mound without touching either nipple. When he finally did close his lips around her super-sensitive bud Julie cried out and grasped his head, desperate to keep his lips, his tongue, his teeth, driving those so, so sweet/painful/wonderful/fiery sensations though her body.

Julie's skin soon became super-sensitive too. The once sensuous feeling of her expensive silk panties became rough and distracting, annoying. With strength she never knew she had, Julie ripped her panties from her body, throwing the tiny rag away so that her lover could have greater access to her body.

Jerry kissed his way down her body, licking here, nipping her there, Julie trying to guide him to places that he wanted to delay arriving at. Soon a fine sheen of sweat glistened on each of them. Jerry found the taste and smell heightened his own arousal, Julie sucked in the male musk like a woman possessed.

Jerry passed over her special place and Julie almost cried out in desperation. But he started again at her feet. Julie gasped in shock when his teeth nipped the ball of her foot, when he sucked her toes, one by one, into his mouth. She looked down the length of her naked, sweaty, inflamed body at her lover. Jerry turned her foot and nipped at the back of her knee. Julie almost cried out as the sensuous waves rolled over her again and again.

With ease, Jerry turned her onto her stomach. He looked up along her trembling body, his eyes feasting on the wondrous sights of her legs, her buttocks, her back, the tangled hair hiding her head, her long graceful arms stretched out, clasping and grasping at his pillows. She was truly beautiful. He bent forward and ran his tongue along the back of her leg from knee to buttock. Julie gasped out loud and tried to move so he would come closer to her heat, to fire her a little higher and give her release. But Jerry, teasing, tantalising, moved with her and carried on making his love at his own pace.

Julie was panting hard now. Her skin felt every fibre of the sheets she lay upon, every touch of his lips, every scalding breath that came from his mouth. She felt the rough edges of his teeth, almost screaming in delight/fear/shock/pleasure/pain/longing every time they closed on her skin.

When Jerry pushed open her legs Julie almost screamed in shock at the rush of cold air battering against her vulva. Then she did scream as this was replaced by the heat of his breath. Eyes tightly closed and mouth fully open, Julie surrendered herself to the feelings, the experiences, the sensations he was driving through her shaking body. It would only take a touch now and she would have her release.

Turning her again, Jerry opened her to him. He slipped his tongue along her furrow, beside her shy, hooded, clitoris, tasting her nectar, and giving her the release she craved. Julie's legs wrapped around him like a sprung trap, pulling him deeper into her heat, keeping him pressed against her, pressing on her hidden pleasure bud. Jerry relaxed in her grip, keeping his tongue hard at work seeking out her hooded treasure.

Julie cried out loud, gasped, panted, moaned, shuddered, stretched, curled, hid and threw herself open through her climax.

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