When I was 19 I spent my summer picking strawberries at a local fruit farm. As the strawberry picking season runs from the end of May until the middle to end of August, this fitted in perfectly with my summer break from university.
There were about 20 of us pickers working there, most of whom were women from low-income famalies trying to boost the pay of their husbands. We would all arrive at around 6.30 every morning and work through till about 1 o’clock when most of the pickers would go home to collect their children from school and complete their household chores. Four of us, though, would take a 40 minute lunch break and carry on picking through the afternoon until we were too tired to do any more. As we were paid by the weight of strawberries collected, this system seemed to suit everyone. It wasn’t the best paid job in the world but gave us some pocket-money, and for the wives who worked there, alleviated some of their financial worries.
The only trouble was the weather. If it rained we stopped picking and usually went home, as strawberries shouldn’t be picked when they are wet because they become mushy after picking. Fortunately that year was one of the better summers that England enjoyed. We lost a few days to the rain in May and June, but had almost continuous sunshine throughout July and August. If anything it was too hot to work on some afternoons, and I for one wore a wide-brimmed hat which at least gave me some shade.
On both sides of the field there was a little wooden shack which was primarily used to store the picked strawberries until the farmer collected them, but also had some basic toilet facilities, and was where we hung our jackets and kept our coffee-flasks whilst we laboured in the fields. If there was a short rain shower, and it hadn’t been too heavy, we would shelter there until the clouds had rolled past and we could resume work.
The strawberries were planted in a field in rows approximately 2 feet apart, and we all worked along our own row from plant to plant, plucking those berries that had ripened. Once we reached the end of a row, which would take a fortnight or so, we’d start again at the beginning as some of the others by now would have ripened.
One late July afternoon was a particularly hot one. Only the four of us were there for the afternoon, my fellow pickers consisting of another student like myself named Mike, who was earning some pocket money during his vacation, a girl from New Zealand called Linda who has stopped off in Britain for a few months as part of a year-long trip around the world, and the farmer’s son Ian, a 15-year old lad that helped on his Dad’s farm during the school holidays. Mike and Ian were working close to each other in one corner of the field, whilst Linda and I were a couple of hundred yards from them over the other side. Linda was working two rows to my right. As it was a Friday I was in a good mood, there had been no weather breaks for some days, and I had filled a lot of the wooden trays with the strawberries, so I should be getting a fatter than usual envelope of money. The only problem was a summer storm that had been brewing on the horizon. Dark clouds were heading our way and the low rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. I figured I would work on until the rain hit us, carry the trays of strawberries over to the huts, and call it a day.
Suddenly the first heavy drops of rain started falling. Initially only a few fat drops fell, but soon afterwards the heavens opened and a torrential downpour started. I grabbed my two crates of strawberries (we couldn’t leave them there or they would be spoilt) and headed as quickly as I could to the hut. I couldn’t run with them, the strawberries were too heavy for that, but I walked pretty fast. When I got there I dumped the boxes on top of other crates already there, and looked out the hut. Mike and Ian had headed for the other hut carrying 3 crates between them and Linda was slowly heading towards me struggling with her 2 almost full trays. I ran out to her to help her with her crates. Even though it had been only a couple of minutes since the storm started she was soaked through. Unlike me she doesn’t wear a summer hat, and her long blonde-haired was plastered to her skull. Today she had come dressed in a striped short-sleeved shirt and a pair of Levi’s with the legs cut off, turning them into a rather small pair of frayed denim shorts. The clothes, of course, like her hair were plastered to her body.
I knew that Linda was not one for wearing a bra, many a time I had peeked at the indentations of her nipples on whatever top she was wearing, and I had occasionally spied the tops of her breasts as she stooped down to pick the fruit, but now they were almost completely visible in their full glory. Her sodden shirt had sculpted itself round them and I could appreciate the firmness, size and shape of them. She was not a big-breasted girl, but neither was she on the small side. The looked just right I thought, I could muğla escort see myself cupping one hand round each of them and bringing my lips to their nipples. All these thoughts rushed around my head in the few moments it took to take one of the trays off Linda and head back to the hut.
I got back there, placed her crate on top of the two I had dumped their a few moments ago, Linda following me in and doing the same with the remaining one.
“Jeez,” she said when she had plonked it down, “that came on suddenly, I feel like a drowned rat”.
“Yeah,” I said looking out across the field where the rain was beating down even more fiercely, “I guess that finishes us up for the week. We won’t be picking any more today, the berries will be drenched.” A sudden bolt of lightning lit up the darkened sky as if to confirm my opinion.
I turned back to look at her one again taking in the drenched shirt and the way the material moulded her breasts. I could feel my cock harden and start to bulge my Levi’s as I took in the sight.
Linda noticed too, glanced down and saw the cause of my erection. “Hey, what’s the matter with you, never seen a pair of tits before?” She shook her head to shake some of the rainwater off and continued. “You know you guys are all the same. You see tits on television, in the papers, on adverts by the side of the road, and yet you still get a stiffy when you see them. Don’t you ever get bored looking at them?”
“Er, sorry… no” I stammered, “it’s just, er… yours look very… um…nice”
“Don’t apologize,” she said, “I quite like the attention, I just don’t get the fascination, I mean there only tits for Christ sake.”
“Well,” I continued, “I like… um… breasts, and … well it looks very sexy like that with your hair and clothes all wet.”
“Oh Jeez, my hair,” she said running her fingers through them like a comb and trying to pull some of the moisture off. I’m gonna need to wash it when I get home.” She looked up at me and chuckled “Say you got pretty wet as well. Thanks for helping me but you didn’t have to you know. I could have managed, and now you’re soaked through.”
I looked at myself. I must have looked a sight as well, my T-shirt and jeans stuck to my body at various points and the water was still dripping off the rim of my hat and down the back of my shirt. I took of the hat threw in it the corner and shook the rain of my head.
“I love it when it rains,” she said, “don’t you? Say, have you ever done it in the rain?”
“Screw!” she replied, “What did you think I meant, pick fucking strawberries? Have you ever fucked a girl in the rain?
I didn’t need to think about an answer. The venues for my sexual experiences up to then had been confined to my girlfriend’s bedroom, and my room at university when she had stayed one weekend. I’d never yet enjoyed the typical teenage tryst of the backseat of a car.
“Well, no, I guess not.” I said.
“Wanna try it?” she said.
“Yes, of course now! I didn’t mean next Christmas! Back home I screwed this guy in a snowstorm once. That was great, although bloody cold I can tell you.”
“Yeah, but in here? There’s not much room is there?”
“No you dolt,” she said “out there in the rain, it’s quite a turn-one for me.” As if to emphasise the conditions, the hut was lit up by another flash from outside, followed moments later followed by another clap of thunder. “Come on it’ll be fun!”
“But Ian will see,” I protested.
“Jeez, you’re not very adventurous are you? Your dick is saying yes, but your head says no. Live a little.” She took my hand and led me through the downpour round the back of the hut. I guess see she had a point. The bulge in my jeans was even more prominent than it had been, yet I was looking round furtively as if expected to be arrested any moment for lewdness in public. She stopped at the back of the hut unbuttoned her shirt and opened up the sides so that the rain was beating down on her breasts, and leaned back against the wooden planks of the hut.
“You wanted to see my beauties earlier on,” she said, “well here they are. Let’s see what you can do with them.”
Any lingering doubts I had had disappeared. I leant forward and cupped her left breast m my right hand and brought my mouth to her nipple. I teased the end with my tongue a few times and then sucked on it, feeling it’s erectness between my teeth. Growing with confidence my hand moved down her stomach to the top of her shorts, and finding the metal button there, unbuttoned that with consummate ease. If anything the rain was now heavier than it had been, I could feel it running down the back of my T-shirt, but there was no stopping me now. Still with my mouth at her nipple, my hand eased the zipper of her shorts down as far as it would go. I tried to ease her shorts down but they were now so sodden with rain they were stuck to her and I couldn’t budge them. I gave up on them for ordu escort a few moments, brought both hands up so that each of them was now cupping one of her ‘beauties’ and lowered my face in between them. Ah, it was heavenly in there, that musky smell of her body coupled with the rivulet of rainwater trickling between them. I licked and nipped the soft skin of each breast whilst pushing them into the sides of my face with my hands. Linda was obviously enjoying it too. “Hmmm,” I heard her whisper, “that nice.”
After another couple of minutes or so of enjoying those lovely womanly mounds, I stood up and then sank to me knees to battle further with her shorts. I usual kneel anyway to pick the strawberries, but now the rain was turning the earth into mud, and could feel the wetness of the soil soaking through them. I reached round her waist with both hands and eased the shorts down. They came down without too much difficulty and when they were around her ankles she lifted one leg out of them and using the other expertly flipped them up in the air catching them in her hand. Under her shorts Linda wore a pair of dark red cotton panties that I immediately pressed my face into.
“Just a sec,” she said, “I don’t want these getting too wet – at least not from the rain – it could be a bit uncomfortable on the drive home.” She lowered them herself, stepped out of them, bundled them up inside her shorts and hung both items on a nail protruding from one of the wooden slats next to her. Straightening up again she leaned once more back against the slats and widened her legs slightly. I leant forward again and after a couple of perfunctory kisses on her inner thighs, pressed my lips against hers. Her pussy had been trimmed to a narrow band of dark brown hair along the length of her slit, fanning out to a small triangle just above her clitoris. She moved her back down the wooden slats, widened her legs further still and parting her nether lips. My tongue reached out and tasted her moistness. It was wonderful, the slightly salty tang of her juices, the aroma of a woman’s most intimate perfume, both mingling with the musky smell her rain-soaked skin was giving off. My tongue eased slowly in and out of her before moving further up her furrow to flick the tip of her clit. Just a little further stimulation from the tongue and it emerged from its secret hiding place standing proud and erect. My tongue continued to dance little circles upon it and I was rewarded with a moan from above. Her hand came down pushing my head further down her slit. My tongue went back to the entrance of her cunt, whilst her own hand, now just inches away from my face, started rubbing her clit furiously. Despite the driving rain I could hear her breathing getting louder and deeper. My tongue was darting in and out of her with gaining momentum when there was a sudden loud clap of thunder and almost immediately afterwards she came.
I sat back on my heels and wiped the rain from my eyes. I looked up at her face, rivulets of rainwater running down it and dripping off her chin on to her breasts. Her hair looked a mess, plastered as it was across her head and behind each ear. What little eye-shadow she wore was now smeared down the side of each eye and her shirt hung limply down the sides of her body. Her breasts stood proud and firm, awash with rainwater but with defiant nipples hard with desire. I thought she was the most erotic sight I had ever seen.
“Hey,” she said, “that was good. That was very good. You’re not so unadventurous after all. Now stand up and let me have a taste of you.”
I stood up, pulled off my sodden T-shirt and took her place against the back of the hut, my face and chest now facing the driving rain. She crouched down in front of me and loosened the belt of my jeans. Belt loosened she popped open the metal stud and lowered my zip. Pulling the flaps of the jeans to either side my cock tented out in front of her. “Oh my,” she said, “you are keen.” Hooking her fingers into the elastic of my boxer-shorts she yanked both the shorts and jeans to me knees, my cock springing up in front of her. “Oh my,” she said again. She leant slightly back ready to take me in her mouth when she suddenly lost her footing in the muddy soil and found herself sitting on her naked ass on the ground.
“Shit,” she said, “as if I wasn’t wet enough already.”
I laughed, and fortunately she saw the funny side too. With a slight giggle she laid right back on the wet ground. Her scalp was still plastered with her hair, and strands of it were stuck to the side of her face. The few hairs of her pussy were similarly stuck to her, and the nipples on her breasts stood upright and firm despite the rainwater beating down on them. There was a mud smear down the right side of her body. If anything the sight was even more erotic than before and at the same time quite comical.
I stretched out a hand to help her back to her feet. She reached out, grabbed my hand and osmaniye escort with a sharp tug and pulled me down on top of her.
“There,” she said with a grin on her face, “at least now you’ll be as dirty as me.
I laughed and brought my mouth down to hers. After a few moments of kissing and tongue wrestling I pulled my head back slightly and licked some of the rain off her face.
“Come inside me,” she whispered.
I had been lying half on top of her, but now moved myself so that I was completely on top of her, my cock seeking out its goal.
“Here let me,” she said reaching down, grabbing hold of me and guiding me inside her. She bent her legs slightly and I started moving in and out of her. No-one was around, of course, and we were hidden from sight anyway by the hut and the hedge at the edge of the field, but had there been they would seem a very comical sight. Me, thrusting into her with the rain drilling into my back and my trousers round my ankles, and her soaked from head to toe, the eye-shadow now just two blue smears around the side of each eye, gasping with each forward thrust I made. She brought both her hands around me, cupped my buttocks and slowly dragged me deeper inside her. I thought at first this was purely to increase her pleasure, but I soon realised that she had also done this deliberately to leave muddy smears on my backside. “There,” she said between gaps, “now you truly are a dirty boy.” Her hands suddenly grasped me even harder, grabbing me around the waist, and she rolled me on to my back, with her on top of me now, my cock still impaled deep inside her. I carried on pumping as best I could, as her waist rose and fell shifting up and down on my cock. There was another lightning flash and an even louder than before, clap of thunder. She pushed her upper body up so that she was leaning over me, her weight supported on her two arms. The rainwater was trickling down her breasts and on to my chest. “How would you like to get even dirtier?” she asked.
“I want you in my ass!” she said.
“I said I want you in my ass. Wouldn’t you like to?”
I was astonished. “I didn’t think girls liked that. I thought it was a, you know, male porno fantasy thing.”
“Oh no,” she said “lots of us girls love it, but you got to have the right cock for it. Not too thick or it’s too painful and uncomfortable. Now you haven’t got a big one…”
“No, don’t be daft, its fine, in fact it’s very nice, but you’ve got what my brothers used to call a ‘pencil-cock’. Long and thin, just right in fact for the tradesman’s entrance!” She climbed off me leaving my unfulfilled prick pointing at the dark sky, and lay down in what was fast becoming a mud-bath next to me, her back turned away.
“Do it gently,” she said reaching round to grab hold of me when I had turned towards her, “and let me do the work.” I felt her hand snake round behind her and wrap itself around my shaft. She then squirmed the cheeks of her ass against me. Moments later I felt the tip of my cock press against her most intimate of orifices, and then her whole body push slowly towards me. The rain, mud and her own juices around my cock, acted as a lubricant, and with a slight thrust of my own hips, the head was inside her.
“Gently, gently,” she cried. I stopped moving altogether and let her take full control. A few seconds pause, and then she started moving against me again. First small slow movements and then she began to gradually exaggerate the movement and increase the speed. I had my eyes closed now, blinded as I was with the rainwater was running into them, but managed to reach around with one hand and cup her right breast. She had other ideas, though, her own hand grabbed hold of mine and firmly brought it back down to her clit. My fingers found her love-button and started to massage it again, as my hips almost involuntary started thrusting again, sinking slightly deeper with each forward push.
“Yeah, that’s it, keep doing that,” she said. “Hold off as long as you can but when you do cum see if you can explode inside me in time with a thunderclap.”
I doubted if I could hold off that long, her ass was so tight compared to her cunt, and the combination of the rain, the mud, the location, and the girl were just too exciting. I could feel my body stiffening and I knew I was about to cum. There was a sudden flash of lightning in the distance. I pressed down hard on her clit, thrusting as deep as I could inside her, and we came together, our cries and grunts drowned out by the thunder.
We lay still for more than a minute not saying anything, my eyes still closed, the rain still beating down on us. I felt me cock begin to soften and I slowly eased out of her. I eased my hand off her and wiped the rain from my eyes as best I could with the back of it.
“Jeez, that was great,” she said, and rolled onto her back to face me, the rain still beating down on her, a stream of dirty water running between her breasts. “Told you it’s fun doing it in the rain. Hey, how about that, we’re supposed to be picking strawberries and instead I got your cherry!”
“Your cherry. You were an anal virgin, but not any more you dirty little boy,” she laughed. “God you do look a bit of a mess though!”