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The day I decided to break out of my usual routine and take a little journey changed my life in a most extraordinary way. I’ve lived a pretty quiet life since I retired from teaching to give myself more time to write historical novels for young people. I have a contract with a publisher to produce one or two books a year based on some historical event or famous person. I do the research by reading a half a dozen books or so, sometimes, though rarely, I travel to a place to get a sense of the area where an event happened, but mostly I stay put in my little off the grid cabin in the woods. You could set your clock by my routine. I get up at five every morning, drink a cup of coffee then get down to work. I rarely work past noon and spend my afternoons reading, working in the garden or taking long walks. It’s a pretty solitary existence.

It was October and the leaves were at their peak of color when this strange feeling came over me. I looked up at the clear blue sky above the red and orange leaves of the trees surrounding my cabin then noticed leaves falling to the ground and suddenly started thinking of getting older and closer to death. “Am I like those leaves fluttering to the ground?” I thought. Without articulating what I was feeling as I looked out the window of my cabin, I said, “I need to get a way from here for awhile.”

This restless feeling surprised me. I don’t usually like to take trips. I love my quiet little world in the Maine woods and remembered Thoreau’s statement when he was at Walden, “I’ve traveled wide and far at Walden.”

I’m still not sure what came over me as I watched the colorful leaves falling, but a strange restlessness urged me to get away like something calling me. It was a strange feeling, but I usually listen to my urges and consider them inspirations. So, standing there at my window looking at the falling leaves, I took a deep breath that became a deep sigh. “I need an adventure. I need to let go and leave my cares behind me.” I looked around my cabin. “I’m in a rut,” I said to myself then looked at myself in the mirror and saw my longish grey hair, my beard and looked into my watery blue eyes seeing the weariness. “I need to go somewhere new where no one knows me and just let loose.”

I decided to be spontaneous and just take off. I watered the plants, put some things in a backpack, got in my old Subaru and went off without any destination. I decided to stay on back roads, turning left when an interesting looking road appeared or turned right when another road caught my attention. I just kept driving and actually driving faster than I usually do but then decided to relax, slow down and wander leisurely through the countryside, past farms, over hills lined with brilliant red, orange and yellow leaves then through thick dark forest areas that opened again into wide expanses of corn fields and rolling hills, enjoying seeing cows and sheep grazing, red barns, remembering how I once thought about becoming a farmer but got married to someone not interested in living off the land and my life went in a different direction. Still, what made me suddenly take off baffled me, but at the same time, I felt good about following my sudden urge. “Why the hell not? You’re only young once,” I said out loud, looking up at several chicken hawks gliding high over the fields, realizing I’m not that young any more and every day counts. Anyway, this was so unlike me. I had no plan, no map and didn’t care where I ended up.

After all these years of doing what was expected, getting married out of college, having two daughters, now grown, teaching at the same school for twenty years, coming home every day to a dying marriage and finally divorcing, I was weary of the plainness and safety of my life. I love writing my books but sometimes I feel I am too locked up in my head, reading and writing, thinking and thinking. Suddenly, I wanted the unknown, the passion of uncertainty, the freedom of not caring. I wanted surprise and adventure.

I was traveling west over narrow bumpy roads, passing through a few small towns, over railroad tracks and remember passing an old general store with a beat up old sign that said, Hinkley’s. I wondered if I should stop for a snack but decided not to and kept going. I had been driving for over four hours when I realized I was getting hungry and now wished I had stopped. It was about five or so and I knew it got darker earlier in October. I was far from any restaurants and wasn’t sure if I’d find the general store I had passed a half hour earlier so I kept going, thinking eventually I’d find a place to get some food.

While driving, I passed a narrow road and an old wooden bridge caught my eye. I suddenly stopped my car, not sure why, but I wanted to go over that bridge and see where that road took me. So I back up and turned onto the road, crossed the small rickety wooden bridge, noticing it went over a creek with fast moving water. It reminded me of the creek near where I grew up and fell in love with trout fishing.

The road twisted and turned and I liked Samsun Escort how the Maple trees with red leaves on both sides of the road created a colorful arch, almost like a tunnel I was driving through. It was magical with occasional bursts of sunlight poking through sending radiant sunbeams down to the road. I knew I was driving west because at one spot as I drove over a hill, the setting sun came through an opening and was shining directly in my eyes, blinding me and I almost went off the road into a ditch.

I then went around a curve into an opening, the sun now glowing in the western sky letting me see again and I noticed a small farm stand ahead–actually a long table with a large yellow and green umbrella over it. I was surprised to see it because there didn’t seem to be much traffic on the road.

I decided to stop and get some fruit. When I pulled over, I noticed a woman sitting in a folding chair behind the wooden table, reading a book. As I approached the stand, she looked up and smiled at me and said, “Hi there.”

When she got out of her chair and walked over, I was stunned by how gorgeous she was. It was hard to judge her age, but I guessed she was in her thirties, maybe early forties. She had long wild auburn hair that went halfway down her back. She wore tight blue jean cut offs with ragged edges and a low cut orange shirt that barely contained her breasts. She was tan and had a thin waist, wide hips, long legs, a pretty face with high cheek bones, a radiant smile, and though I could not help but notice her body, I also noticed her sparkling green eyes and how she smiled at me as I stood there. I certainly didn’t expect to see someone so beautiful and sexy at a farm stand in the middle of nowhere. I tried not to look at her but found it impossible. “What a beautiful, sexy woman,” I thought looking at her body, her smile and entrancing eyes then at the variety of fruit and vegetables on the table.

“Nice apples,” I said, glancing at her breasts again then back at the apples.

“Thanks,” she said. “I just picked them this morning,” she added.

“How much are they?” I asked, trying not to look at the cleavage revealed by her low cut shirt. “She’s really built,” I thought to myself, looking at the apples.

“Fifty cents each,” she said.

“I’ll take two of them,” I said. I then looked around at the farm and saw the barn about fifty yards in back of her and over to the left, not far from the edge of the road, a white farm house with a wrap around front porch. I noticed a small sign, “Maggie’s Farm,” and couldn’t help but think of the Bob Dylan song, “I Ain’t Gonna Work on Maggie’s Farm No More.”

“Is this your farm?” I asked.

“Kind of,” she answered. “Actually, it’s my ex-husbands and mine. We’re squabbling over it right now.”

“I see,” I said.

She picked up a paper bag and put the apples in it. I took my wallet out and handed her the dollar, then looked at the horse in the pasture behind the barn and further up the hill, a cow lying under an oak tree. “Nice place,” I said as I took the bag, still trying to keep my eyes off of her body, surprised at how unselfconscious she appeared.

“Do you live here alone?” I asked, feeling my lust rising but trying to fight it off.

“Yes,” she said. “I get some help with the farm from Dad and some neighbors. He’s got a farm down the road, but mostly I keep up with everything and make do between the farm stand and my waitress job in town.”

“You must work hard,” I said. Just then she bent down to pick up a paper bag she dropped. She turned around and I saw her round ass straining her tight cut offs. She put the paper bag back on the table and I could not help but notice how her breasts were practically spilling out of her tight low cut orange shirt. When she stood up, she caught me looking.

Our eyes met and she smiled, but didn’t say anything. I was getting aroused looking at her and felt my erection growing. It had been awhile since I had been with a woman.

There was an awkward silence as we both looked at each other. “Would you like anything else?” she asked, smiling slightly, looking into my eyes. I wasn’t certain but the way she looked at me and smiled made me think she was flirting with me–something that never happens. She kept her eyes on mine, smiling.

It was impossible not to look at her and not notice the nipples pushing against her tight low cut shirt, but I quickly looked down at the table, embarrassed to be caught gawking.

“What would you recommend?” I asked, concentrating on the various small baskets of tomatoes, peppers, green and yellow zucchini, pears and peaches, trying not to look at this sexy woman but felt the bulging in my jeans.

“Well,” she paused, “let me see.” She leaned over the table and picked up a large peach. While reaching, she looked up at me then at the bulge in my jeans which I tried to hide behind my bag of apples. She held out the peach. “I bet you would like to eat something wet and juicy,” she said, smiling, Samsun Escort Bayan looking me in the eyes and then back down at my bag covered crotch. I could not believe what was happening to me. I was out of my comfort zone. “Is she teasing me?” I wondered, baffled by her words and the way she looked at me.

“I’ll take the peach,” I said, trying to keep the conversation on the topic of fruit. She leaned forward with the peach in her hand. “Here, open the bag and I’ll treat you to a peach,” she said. “

“Thanks,” I said and held out the bag.

She dropped in the peach, smiling, looking into my eyes, but I know she saw the tent in my jeans. There was no way to hide what was happening to me. “I’ll pay you for the peach,” I said, trying not to look at the nipples poking out of her tight shirt. While reaching for my wallet, I was looking at her smiling face and said, “By the way, you have a nice smile.”

“Well, thank you mister. You have a nice smile, too,” she said. “Really,” I said, surprised. “Oh, thank you,” I added, feeling awkward. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a conversation like this with a woman, let alone a sexy beautiful woman. I wanted this interaction to continue but no words came to my mind. The words, “eat something wet and juicy,” went through my mind. Was she being suggestive or was I reading something into it?

We just stood there looking at each other. “It must be hard keeping a farm like this going all by your self,” I said.

“It is, but the work isn’t the hard part,” she said. “It’s after work that’s hard. It’s going into the house and not having a man around.”

I didn’t say anything, but noticed how she was looking at me, surprised that she said that and where this conversation was heading.

Then she asked, “So, what brings you this way?

“Good question,” I said. “I don’t even know where I am,” I added. “I just felt a need to take a trip and get away from my every day life.”

“I know what you mean,” she said, pausing. “You needed a little escape,” she added, smiling, looking into my eyes, a smile crossing her lips, nodding her head as if she understood.

“I guess so,” I said.

“You look like a nice man,” she said. “Like someone who deserves a good time.”

“Thanks,” I responded, “Maybe that’s what I’m looking for…a good time. I think I need an adventure,” I added, feeling a little bolder by her suggestive complement. “Good for you,” she said. “Going after what you need and want is important.” She smiled at me. “I believe it’s important to go after what you need,” she said, “but out here it’s not always easy to get what you need….if you know what I mean.” We looked at each other feeling something hot brewing between us.

I looked over at the sign, “You must be Maggie.” I said, wishing I could think of something clever to say but no words came.

“Yes, that’s me,” she nodded. “What’s your name?” she asked, not taking her eyes from mine.

“Thom,” I answered, “Thom with an “h,” I added.

“Oh, Thom with an “h,” she repeated. She extended her hand for a handshake, “Glad to meet you,” she said, smiling, her green eyes sparkling, looking into mine.

We shook hands, “Nice to meet you, too, Maggie,” I said, enjoying the way she gripped my fingers, holding onto my hand for a moment then slowly letting go. I noticed a silver ring on her index finger and thought that was unusual.

“So you’re on an adventure,” Maggie said. “Where are you heading?”

“Good question,” I answered. “I’m not heading any where.”

“Cool,” she responded. “That’s really cool.”

When she said that, I wondered if she was an old hippie.

“How long have you had this farm?” I asked.

“Been here ten years or so,” she said. “My husband and I were ‘back to the landers.’ A bunch of us got this farm, but I’m the only one left. The others couldn’t handle the work and isolation. My husband and I tried to keep it going but we couldn’t agree on anything. He drank a lot and so we just went our separate ways.”

“So what’s the squabble about,” I asked.

“He wants to sell it so he can get on with his life, but I don’t want to sell and can’t buy him out. Lucky we don’t have kids.”

“Too bad,” I said. “It must be good having your dad nearby.”

“It is and that’s another reason I want to stay here. I love this place and being near my family. I grew up around here.”

“I didn’t mean to get personal with you,” I said.

“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s nice talking to you.” She smiled again and then said, “You have a nice face. I like your eyes and it’s cool you took off like that with no destination. I like that about a man–someone who takes chances.”

“Well, thanks, it’s a little weird but who knows what might happen.

“Right, who knows what might happen,” she repeated, smiling. “What would you like to happen?” she asked, looking me in the eye. “Got any ideas”

I couldn’t tell if she was flirting with me, being seductive or was genuinely Escort Samsun interested in what I was saying. I had never been in a situation like this so I decided to just go along for the ride and see where it led.

“You were right when you asked if I’d like to eat something wet and juicy.” I said, looking into her eyes.

“I know. I usually can tell what a man wants,” she added, glancing down at the bulge in my pants and smiled, looking me in the eyes.

“I haven’t had anything wet and juicy for a long time,” I added. “So thanks for the peach.” I couldn’t believe we were teasing each other with our looks and playful words, but here I was on this isolated farm, entering a fantasy, saying things to a sexy woman who seemed like she wanted something to happen, but I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was my imagination working over time. I didn’t know but wanted to find out.

She smiled and looked into my eyes and then turned and walked over to her chair, swaying her hips. Her round ass looked so good straining those tight cut offs. She sat down and spread her legs wide apart, revealing her crotch. She smiled up at me and bit her lower lip again, “I bet you’d like to eat something other than the peach.”

She stretched out her long legs, spreading them apart and leaned back in the chair. I stood in front of the farm stand, not believing what she just said. I looked at her crotch and felt myself getting harder. I looked up and down the road then back at Maggie sitting there with her legs spread apart, teasing me, inviting me. I put my bag down on the table and walked around the edge of the table to where she was sitting. I stood between her legs looking down at her. She looked at the bulge in my jeans and then at my eyes, smiling. Her nipples were poking out of her tight shirt, her large breasts looked so luscious. I was just about to get down on my knees when she asked, “Would you like to see the barn?” “The barn,” I repeated, standing between her spread legs, looking down at her crotch, my hard erection straining my jeans. I wanted to get down on my knees and devour her. I’d never been so aroused. “The barn,” I repeated. “Oh, sure,” I said. “I’d like to see your barn.” “Great,” Maggie said, and stood up. When she did, she leaned into me, pressing her body against my chest. “Come on, follow me,” she said.

“Damn, she’s a tease,” I said to myself, as we walked up to the barn. She was in front of me and her round ass swayed from side to side. “Man, do I want to fuck her,” I said to myself, surprised to hear those words in my brain. I felt like I was a different person. Maggie was bringing something out in me–something wild that I didn’t know existed. “I don’t believe this is happening to me,” I thought, as we entered the barn. “Nice barn,” I said, looking around at the stalls, the straw, a few hens pecking into the dirt, a saddle resting on a hay bale and out in the pasture, the horse grazing and the cow lying under a big oak tree.

“Yes, I love this barn and this farm,” she said, looking around the barn and a different softer expression flickered on her face, one of appreciation and I glimpsed another side of her, someone serious and passionate, not just sexy and alluring. She then looked back at me, her smile returning, her seductive eyes looking into mine. “Follow me,” she said, motioning with a slight cocking of her head.

We went to the rear of the barn and climbed a ladder to the loft where several bales of hay were stacked in a corner. It was dark up there except for the some sunlight peaking through cracks in the roof.

“Let’s get stoned,” she said, and took a joint out of her jeans pocket.

I hadn’t smoked pot for years, but said, “Why not? I’m on an adventure.”

“Right,” Maggie said, lighting the joint. “And so am I,” she added and sat down on a hay bale, patting the place next to her, inviting me sit.

I was intrigued by her comment and wondered what she meant. She took a hit and passed it to me. I coughed as soon as I inhaled. She said, “Take your time.” I took another hit, passed it to her, coughing again. “Nothing like fucking when you’re stoned,” she said.

I was stunned by the bluntness of her language and how in control of the situation she was. I managed to get a few good hits without coughing. It didn’t take long but I was definitely stoned, my whole body relaxed, except for the throbbing in my jeans. I looked around the barn again remembering how I once thought about having a farm, growing my own food, getting out of the system, aware that there had to be a better way of living, realizing that’s probably the way Maggie ended up here with her husband and their friends and here I was in a funky old barn in the middle of nowhere with a sexy, horny woman, my mind spinning from the joint I just smoked. Maggie found a blanket and covered a few bales of hay with it. I looked at her ass as she bent over, feeling myself getting even bigger and harder in my jeans. Maggie then sat down on one of the bales and looked at me, “So what were you saying about wet and juicy,” she said, taking another hit from the joint, holding in her breath, looking up into my eyes then biting her lower lip, handing me the joint. She leaned back, her arms in back of her, her legs spread wide, her tight cut offs pressed against her crotch, “I’m horny,” she said.

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