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Characters in this story:
The narrator (24 years old), a second-year med school student, and his wife Meg (22 years old, 5’10”, 35C).
The Hatches — Lindsey (28 years old, 32C, 6’2″ and a university volleyball coach) and Lucas (early 30s, 6’10” and a university professor) from the Quad Cities area.
Randall Bauer, an elderly fourth-generation farmer in rural Illinois.
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This story is fictional, and the story’s characters are not based on any single individual — though they are a compilation of characteristics and personalities encountered in real life, and in the author’s imagination. All characters live in a fantasy world where there are no STDs and no unwanted pregnancies resulting from unprotected sex.
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Every year our part of the Midwest gets hit by severe weather. When we do, communities come together to help each other recover from the damage — and in our church, we have a “uniform” of sorts that helpers wear. Everybody gets a yellow T-shirt or vest with the Helping Hands logo on the front and back. They have become iconic for members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (some people call us Mormons) who are doing service to their community.
On a Thursday in late June, a derecho caused significant damage across Illinois into Indiana. (For those not familiar, a derecho is a line of powerful winds that go a long distance. The winds, and accompanying thunderstorms, leave damage like a tornado — but spread out over hundreds of miles.) After the storm passed, the stake presidency asked for volunteers to gather in Nauvoo, Illinois, on a Saturday to help clean up.
We were told to wear work clothes. We wore our old beat-up blue jeans and light T–shirts — we knew we were going to get dirty and sweaty doing this work. The forecast was for some occasional rain showers, but it was mostly going to be hot and humid, so we came prepared with water bottles and hats. We were also told to bring rakes, gloves, and insect repellent, and those who were trained in how to use chainsaws should bring them.
After everyone gathered near the Stake Center, they were given their yellow T-shirts or vests, and separated into small groups. Each group was given the address of a local resident who had storm damage. There were several properties needing help, so we were sent out in groups of four. Some addresses were in town, and some were more rural.
Since my wife Meg and I both have some experience on farms, we volunteered to take one of the rural addresses. We were paired with a couple we didn’t know — Lindsey and Lucas Hatch. We were given a choice of a yellow T-shirt or a yellow vest with the Helping Hands logo. Lucas and I went for the vest, while Lindsey and Meg chose to get the T-shirt.
We had a few minutes to get to know our new friends before they did a mass opening prayer and sent us on our way. I learned that Lucas was a professor at a small university in the Quad Cities area. He was very tall, maybe 6 foot 10 inches, and in excellent physical condition. I would guess he was in his early 30s.
His wife Lindsey was also tall and muscular. I would guess she was 6 foot 2 inches, about four inches taller than Meg, and about 28 years old. She appeared to be flat-chested but had beautiful long dirty blond hair that she put up in a high tight ponytail. Lindsey was a defensive specialist coach for their university volleyball team.
While we were making small talk, I noticed that Lindsey had an anklet tattoo that ran all the way around her left ankle. It was a vine of some sort with a small pineapple on one side and a butterfly on the other.
The farm we were sent to was out on a gravel county road, about a mile and a half off a paved state highway. It’s the kind of road where the gravel has been piled up in the middle, occasionally grinding on the belly of our car as we drove. The recent rains left a good amount of water in the culvert and a few puddles in the road.
The nearest town is four miles away and has a population of 127. The nearest gas station and shopping are about 18 miles away. This really was an incredibly isolated farm deep into Hancock County. It’s so isolated a person could scream at the top of their lungs and probably nobody would hear them.
When we arrived at the farm where we were to work, Lindsey stepped out of their vehicle and promptly pulled her T-shirt over her head, replacing it with her Helping Hands shirt. I was a little surprised as there was no effort to find a secluded place to change — she just stripped it off right there in front of everyone. That’s when I discovered that she wasn’t as flat-chested as I had thought — she had a sports bra on that held her endowments tight.
Meg also saw Lindsey’s quick change and decided to follow suit, but slower and more exposed. She slowly pulled off her shirt to replace it with the yellow church-issued shirt. In the process, Meg also pulled her bra up over her head with the T-shirt. She told me that if she was going to be hot and escort bayan şişli sweaty, she didn’t want her bra making her uncomfortable. Meg can be a bit competitive sometimes and I think she was trying to out-strip Lindsey.
Unfortunately, the Helping Hands shirt Meg picked up at the Stake Center was a little smaller than the shirts she usually wears. She put it on anyway, taking her time to first pull it over her head, leaving it gathered around her neck. She acted like she had difficulty getting it down over her breasts. It was tight — you could see her nipples poking through — but since she enjoys being looked at, I don’t think she minded. (In retrospect, I wonder if she intentionally got a too-small shirt. I’ll have to remember to ask her later.)
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lucas was on his phone while Meg changed. Then just as Meg was most undressed with her tits fully exposed, Lucas’ phone changed position. I think he took a picture or two of my topless wife. He showed his phone to Lindsey, and she smiled approvingly.
Lucas and I put on our vests and found the farm owner, a man named Randall Bauer, sitting on his front porch watching the two women.
We could see a lot of tree limbs down and some outbuilding damage, so we asked him where he wanted us to begin. Randall was an older man — probably in his late 70s or 80s and would never have been able to do the work to clean up by himself. He was not a member of our church but said he really appreciated our being there. He told us his wife died two years ago from COVID-19, and none of his children lived nearby.
Throughout our conversation, he openly stared at Meg’s and Lindsey’s tits. He wasn’t being subtle at all. Both women just smiled, happy that they could bring some joy to the old man’s life during this difficult time.
His first concern was to remove the fallen tree limbs from around his animal pens and make sure everything was secure. Lucas had a small chainsaw and cut the debris into smaller pieces while Meg, Lindsey, and I moved everything to his burn pile. It was hard work, as some of the limbs were large and heavy. I began to appreciate how physically fit Lindsey was as she had no problem moving the weightier branches.
It was also dirty work. The storms had stirred up lots of mud that was caked on the tree debris, and on the ground, completely covering our shoes in mud. The late morning heat was increasing, and sweat was abundant. We got the debris moved, restored the chicken wire around his coop, and nailed the boards back on the hog pen so no pigs could escape. If we weren’t smelly enough already, the chicken coop and hog pens added their odors to our own.
Through it all, Randall worked alongside us. This old man wasn’t as fast as we were, but he had incredible stamina. His dark sun tanned, wrinkled, leathery face hid a gentle kindness. He was soft-spoken, with confidence and dignity in the way he talked — even when he called out his dog Lucy for misbehaving. Lucy, a Jack Russell Terrier, was his wife’s dog. He said Lucy was his wife’s best friend, so he loved her with every part of his soul. It was a piece of his wife that he could hold on to.
As noon approached, Randall offered us some sandwiches and cold beers. He clearly wasn’t prepared to entertain, but to be polite we accepted his offer of the sandwich but turned down the beers. We were happy to drink water. He was so kind and polite that we didn’t dare tell him we had packed our own lunches and left them in our cars.
Given how smelly and sweaty we were, we chose to eat outside on his front porch. That’s when I realized how totally isolated Randall and his farm were. Since we’d arrived about two hours earlier, we had only seen one or two other pickups run down his county road. His nearest neighbor, he said, was a mile and a half away, down the next section road.
The Helping Hands project was supposed to end at noon, but we were so touched by Randall that we offered to stay another couple of hours, if he had anything he wanted us to do. He said it was getting too hot to work outside, but he would appreciate some help cleaning up inside.
We were concerned about being so dirty and smelly in his house, but Randall had a suggestion — he has a “cowboy shower” on the side of the barn that he would be happy to let us use to clean up. Rather than tracking the muck of farm life into his house, he would shower at the barn before heading in — in fact, his wife insisted on it. He said she used to stand at the kitchen window and watch him walk from the barn to the house after showering.
When we got to the barn, we realized there were no privacy walls on the cowboy shower.
“Who cares if a horse or cow sees you naked?” Randall asked.
So, we all agreed to clean up before going inside. I suggested we take turns, but Randall said that would be a waste of water.
He immediately stripped his clothes off, right in front of all four of us, and stepped in as naked as the escort merter day he was born. I’m sure all four of us quickly noticed that he was hung like a horse. Now we understood why his wife watched from the house.
He invited Lindsey and Meg to join him while he showered. The four of us looked at each other, not sure what to do, when Meg started stripping all her clothes off to join him. By the time Meg was naked, Lindsey had started stripping too. To be honest, Lucas and I were just frozen — staring at our naked wives playing in the shower with a wrinkly old man with a really long cock.
When she stripped, I could tell how much Lindsey’s sports bra had been holding back as her breasts escaped the tight grasp of the fabric. I watched as her 32C breasts bounced free, her hard nipples pointing straight out from dark areolas. Lindsey’s chest and abdomen looked like they were all muscle — I could see why she was so strong moving the debris. With low body fat, tight abs, and powerful pecs, her chest made an impressive sight. Her tits weren’t the only things that were hard.
I also noticed there were no tan lines on Randall; he must be naked outside a lot. It quickly became clear that Randall was enjoying having two naked women showering with him as his cock started getting hard. The shower wasn’t built for three people, so it was a bit crowded in there and Randall’s hard cock started getting in the way of the women showering with him.
Meg was the first to touch him, wrapping her right hand around his cock, holding it like an old-fashioned water pump. She invited Lindsey to join her in pumping Randall. The two of them were able to get three hands around his cock at the same time, while Lindsey’s free hand massaged his balls.
Lucas and I could only stare as both of our wives working together gave Randall the best hand job he’s probably had for 50 years, if ever. It didn’t take long for him to unload, shooting at least two years of built-up loneliness and frustration all over the women and the floor. I suspect the horses would have been proud of his load.
Lucas and I promptly stripped off our clothes to join the shower, but just as we got there Randall and the women declared they were done and exited the shower area. That left us two husbands to shower together — not quite what we’d hoped for while we were watching.
As we got in, the solar-heated water began to die down, leaving us in a cold shower. Now we understood what Randall meant by there wouldn’t be enough water for us to shower individually. The cold water motivated us to clean quickly and deflated any arousal we had from the threesome we had just witnessed.
While we showered, our wives realized that they had failed to bring their clean clothes to the barn — they were out in our cars. We watched as three bare asses started walking up to the house.
“I think I have some things in the house for you to wear,” Randall told the women.
Lucas and I quickly finished our cold showers and ran up to the house to catch up to our wives and our new naked friend. We caught up with them in the mud room where we wiped our feet and entered the house.
Randall said his home was a four-bedroom bungalow home built by his father and grandfather from a kit delivered by railroad. There had been some remodeling over the years, including covering the back porch, and turning it into a mud room and laundry room.
He invited us to drop our dirty clothes in the washer while he gave us the grand tour of the house. While our clothes were being washed, and we were still walking around naked, Randell walked us through the kitchen and dining room.
The many China and Curio cabinets looked like they hadn’t been cleaned since his wife died, with thick dust showing on the shelves and handles. Other than that, the place was well maintained, especially for a four-generation homestead run by a widower.
He led us into his bedroom, at the front of the house. The bed was obviously slept in, though the covers had been pulled up.
Inside the bedroom closet was a whole collection of his wife’s clothes — he said he didn’t have the heart to get rid of them. As he was telling us this, he began to tear up. Meg promptly gave him a hug, her bare tits pressing into Randall’s naked chest. He motioned to the closet and invited the women to find something to wear. For Lucas and me, he lent us some overalls. There was no mention of underwear for anyone, so all four of us were going to be commando.
While we put on the overalls, we watched as Meg and Lindsey surveyed their wardrobe options. They pulled out a few outfits and were whispering to each other. It was clear that there was nothing in there for Lindsey at 6’2″ or for Meg at 5’10”. We guessed Randall’s wife must have been around 5’2″. The women whispered some more and then declared that they didn’t feel comfortable stepping into his wife’s clothes and asked if he would mind if they stayed naked until the laundry was done.
I wondered if Randall escort bayan mecidiyeköy had been playing us a bit — he surely would have known none of his wife’s clothes would fit our wives. He may have gotten them naked on purpose and lured them, and us, to his house knowing they’d have to stay naked once the clothes were in the washer. Of course, I didn’t say that out loud. I was happy to spend another hour or two with two naked women.
Randall apologized that the clothes were too small and said he would be happy to have them running around naked. As he said that, his cock flinched, rising up to confirm that he was enjoying the situation.
Lucas and I decided that if the other three were going to be naked, we should also. So, we removed our overalls. I think Lucas’s crotch was uncomfortable anyway — his tall frame didn’t exactly fit into Randall’s overalls.
Randall said that he wouldn’t make us clean his house naked and invited us to relax on his front porch. He gave us some lemonade from his refrigerator and led the four of us through the living room and out onto the shaded front porch. It was hot and humid outside, but we were naked and there was enough of a breeze that it wasn’t too uncomfortable.
We talked for quite a while out there. Randall told us about his wife and about his children and grandchildren, none of whom had any interest in farm living. Two children had died in a car accident and the remaining three had moved away — one son was in Omaha, the other in California. His daughter married a career Navy officer and was with him at his current posting in Naples, Italy. He figured they would sell the homestead when he died.
While we were listening to Randall’s story, a pickup truck passed by on the road and we all waved to the driver. I’m pretty sure he was not expecting to see five naked people on Randall’s porch.
At some point, Lindsey went into the house and moved our clothes from the washer to the dryer.
As could be expected with five naked people sitting on the porch drinking lemonade, the conversation turned to sex. Randall said he hadn’t had sex for at least twenty years. His wife wasn’t interested in sex after the children died and after menopause.
Meg asked him if he would like a blow job right now. He looked surprised and turned to me to see my reaction. I just smiled and said that Meg was an award winner at sucking cock and I’m sure he would enjoy it.
Without waiting for his answer, Meg pulled a chair pillow down from the porch swing and put it below Randall’s chair on the wooden floor. She knelt on the pillow and immediately began fondling his balls and cock. She wasn’t exactly stroking him yet but was helping him decide if he wanted her to do more. It didn’t take long before he gave his consent.
Lucas asked Meg if she was concerned about getting caught — but Meg reminded him that nobody was around, and if somebody came down the road, they wouldn’t be able to see what she was doing. (I know my wife is a bit of an exhibitionist so I suspect she would love it if someone accidentally caught her.)
So right there on his front porch, my wife began licking and sucking Randall’s cock. The rest of us were certainly getting aroused by the show in front of us. Lucas’ cock started getting harder, as did mine, and I noticed Lindsey began some subtle wiping of her labia and clit.
After a few minutes, Meg asked Lindsey if she wanted to help. Lindsey looked at her husband, who shrugged his shoulders and said it was okay with him if she wanted to do it. Lindsey joined Meg on the ground and began licking and sucking Randall’s balls. The women took turns putting his cock in their mouths, licking the sides, and stroking him.
It was quite the sight — two naked women performing oral sex on an old man’s monster cock on his front porch for anyone driving by to see. I began stroking my own cock as I watched Lindsey’s tits bouncing up and down when she took her turn with Randall’s cock in her mouth. Meg saw me watching Lindsey while jerking off and winked her approval at me.
It wasn’t long until Lucas began fully stroking his cock also.
Meg decided to level up Randall’s experience — she stood up and then sat down on his lap with his cock rubbing between her legs. The cock was so long that the tip was nowhere near entering my wife’s vagina but was getting nicely rubbed down by her back-and-forth movements running his cock across her labia. I recognized some of my wife’s moans and grunts and knew she was enjoying her ride.
Her new position gave Randall the opportunity to massage, kiss and suck on Meg’s tits which were right in front of his face. While Meg was grinding her clit on his cock, and Randall was playing with her tits, Lindsey was massaging his balls and caressing his legs.
He had already been drained once in the cowboy shower, but he seemed to have enough left to cum on Lindsey’s face and tits. As he released, Meg had her own orgasm with a grunt and scream that the neighbors might have heard.
Randall said thank you but noted that Lucas and I had not had the pleasure of coming yet. In his gentle polite way, he invited the women to provide their service to us while he watched. He specifically asked Meg to perform her magic on Lucas and Lindsey to work on me.
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