Fertile Farms Bundle: 20 Erotic Farm Girl Collection

I suppose it should’ve seemed silly.

I got so many big fellas who knew what they were at when it came to farm life, throwin’ themselves at me in offering for a job. Yet it was that caramel skinned beauty who finally convinced me of the need for help.

“What’ll you do for me?” I said, my plaid shirt undone, showing my hard chest as I used my rag to wipe away the sweat as evening approached.

Rosa had looked so good that first time, even though it was clear she’d been travelling a long time, on the road, lookin’ for work.

Though honestly, it didn’t help me that her shirt was tied just beneath her large breasts, her firm stomach on display. Daisy duke shorts clung to her hips and thick thighs, and she brushed some of her long, dark hair from her face.

“Anything you need,” she said with her accented voice. “Cooking, cleaning.” She looked past me for a moment before her chocolaty eyes returned to mine and her lips warmed with a smile. “Make your house a home.”

Part of me wanted to take offense to that. My place had been home to my family for generations! But when I found myself looking at Rosa in the late afternoon sun, hearing her say those words… I felt a pang of emptiness. My house may have been home to generations, but it hadn’t been much of a home for me since my family passed away and moved on.

It was just where I slept and ate after a hard day’s work.

So I was made weak to her charms then and there, without even realizing it.

“Think you got time enough to fix a meal for supper now?” I asked, because I hadn’t even given the meal a thought. I was just gonna eat a sandwich again probably, like it’d been doing since ma died. Cold food, prepared in a jiffy, that’d been my sustenance for far too long.

Rosa looked up at the sky before she returned her gaze to me and her smile broadened.

“I can whip something up,” she replied, and I just wanted to hear her talk more. Her voice was like music to my ears, and the way she kept lightly caressing her skin made it all the sweeter.

“Come, show me inside so I may get started.” She was brazen, I had to give her that. Like she knew what was best for me.

That only made her all the more appealing to me. And where I’d not taken an instruction from anyone since my pappy died, I led her on into the house. It was a big place, with a spacious kitchen, and though the furnishings were a bit old they were all good and working fine. Not that I was great at cleaning, I just rarely set foot in the house anymore so it just never got dirty.

“Here’s everythin’ you should need I imagine,” I said, showing her the fridge, the oven, all of it. “There’s fresh milk, steak, eggs and chicken here, though normally I’d just pass that on to one of my neighbours since I don’t rightly cook. I think you’ll have enough to work with for now, but if there’s anythin’ more you need, well…” I shrugged my broad shoulders and plucked my hat off my head, fanning myself with it as I brushed back my blonde hair. “We can see to that tomorrow,” I said with a smile.

“More than enough,” she said as she reached for the chicken, her smile never faltering.

“Chicken omelets,” she said, more than asked, but I was distracted by the fact that her shorts were riding up, letting me see the soft curve of the underside of her ass as she reached over to turn on the stove.

Her sandals were slipping off, but she didn’t seem to mind as her hair cascaded down her back. I watched as she went for the sharpest knife, slicing the chicken into thin little cubes with such diligence.

She was a pro at cooking, if I knew anything about it. She moved with a certain grace and confidence that I wasn’t used to feeling when in the kitchen, at the very least.

It took a great force of will to pull myself away and go back to work then, and it wouldn’t be the last time. No, though the meal that night was delicious, I couldn’t even blame an appreciation for her craft on why I began to spend more time in the house than working the farm.

* * *

Days came and went, Rosa and me talking more and more. I had finished setting up my old room for her as her quarters, using many of my ma’s old things to gussy it up some and make it look more like a lady’s residence.

Though one day she came back from tow

n after spending the grocery allowance, and I was midway through setting up a little herb garden for her. I had intended it to be a surprise, and I suppose it was, even if I wasn’t finished.

She’d remarked to me casually that she missed working with homegrown herbs rather than store bought, and hell, if there was one thing my farm was built around, it was using all the homemade materials we could muster.

“Aw shit, this was supposed to be a surprise, Rosa. You weren’t s’posed to see this until I was done,” I said, as I placed the wire onto the last fence post, making sure none of the chickens or pigs got into the future herbs to grow there.

She looked it over with such a quiet reverence, uncertain of what to make of it all. She placed the burlap sacks down on the ground as her hand went to her chest. Her dark eyes moved from me to the soil and back.

“Is that what I think it is?” she asked gingerly.

The day was getting late and I’d had to work extra hard that day to find the time to work on her garden, so I’d shed my shirt and stood, bare from the waist up, my jeans hangin’ low, hard body on display. I glistened in the hot summer sun, overheated and thirsty, but I could only smile at how excited she was.

“Darn right it is, Rosa,” I said lowly, trying to contain my own enthusiasm for her in return. “With a master of the kitchen like you around, I can’t brook you usin’ sub-standard, store-bought herbs, now can I? Nope! Only the best for you,” I declared, wiping myself down with my old shirt before I tossed it over one shoulder.