Scott sat staring out the passenger window of his dad’s old beat up Ford truck. It had been five years since he had last seen his dad, so the long ride from the airport to the farm was silent. He was only there now because his mother told him that his father needed the help and it was the proper thing to do.

He had been twelve when his father remarried and Scott had not seen him since a few months before that. Once the marriage went through, his Mom had kept him from seeing his father. But when his dad called her and asked for Scott’s help she figured now that he was seventeen and almost an adult it would be okay; after all Scott could make his own decisions now.

Thoughts and vivid images of what the farm used to look like in its heyday compared to what he was seeing now were as different as night and day. Scott remembered thick, lush fields of grass and meadows, with crops as far as the eye could see. Now, all he could see was dirt, dried grass and hay, the sad remains of a once prosperous farm.

For the first time in five years, Scott turned and really looked at his father. Richard was older; older than his mother by fifteen years. Perhaps at sixty-three he was too old to still be farming, but that is what he had always been, so that is what he continued to do. Scott’s mind then turned to Missy, Richard’s second wife, and for all intents and purposes, his stepmother.

He wondered what she looked like; he assumed she was very unattractive to have married his father. After all she was nineteen years younger than Richard. To Scott forty-four was not young, but twelve years ago when she married his father she had still been in her early thirties.

He looked at his father’s sun worn, lined face and his long, overly thin frame and thought, ‘Maybe she’s huge with snaggled teeth.’ The image of his 6’4” lanky father with a very short, very round woman, who may be slightly repulsive, caused a sharp bark of laughter to emit from his throat.

Richard turned to look at his son, giving him a hard stare. Scott returned it with a sheepish grin and turned back out the window, cheeks burning in embarrassment. Richard made a low grunting sound and looked back at the dirt road, lost in his own thoughts and worries.

Scott could feel the warmth on his cheeks, but the thought of a hag like stepmother stayed with him even as the house came into view. They rounded the last bend and that is when the ridiculous notion was finally pushed from his mind. Scott got his first real look at his stepmother as she was hanging up the wash outside.

Her strawberry blonde hair shone brightly in the early afternoon sun. It was pinned in a messy bun on top of her head; strands of it fell and blew in the wind. She could have been an actress in an old western movie with the way her hair blew in the wind. He noticed that she wasn’t very tall, at 6’3” he would surely tower over her.

The engine on the truck turned off and she turned to look at them. In that moment she was the most beautiful woman Scott had ever seen. The sun hit her from behind, illuminating her; an angel haloed by the noon sun. It showed the shadow of her body through the thin summer dress. The soft curve of her full hips, the slight swell of her breasts, all clearly illuminated for Scott to feast his eyes upon. However, it also blocked the rest of her face, and he was eager to see if what he had seen was a trick of the light or if she was as beautiful as her first impression made her out to be.

She swatted at the air, probably a small bug, and lifted the hem of her dress to scratch her upper thigh. Scott suddenly felt the warmth of the motionless truck, and he gulped as he prayed for the wind to catch her slightly raised dress even further up. Sweat was forming on his forehead and he could feel it running down his back, but more importantly he could also feel the stirring in his pants.

‘Great,’ he thought to himself.

Richard suddenly hit the hood of the truck to get Scott's attention; he had not even noticed his father get out. Richard jerkily motioned for him to get out. Slowly and reluctantly he climbed out of the truck, grabbed his bag and went to meet his stepmother.

**Missy**

Missy heard the old loud truck, the beast as she referred to it, coming down the lane. She had been in another fantasy, as she did more frequently now than ever. This one was a favorite of hers; it was of her being in a sex filled marriage where both her mind and her body were worshiped daily, when the noise of the truck had knocked her back to reality with a hard jolt.

She suddenly felt the heat and the dust; there was always dust now that most of the crops were dead. She felt the sweat rolling down her spine, between her breasts and even down her thighs. Missy hated this part of the day. The sun was at its highest and the bugs at their hungriest.

The engine stopped and she turned to face them. She slapped at a mosquito, scratched her thigh absentmindedly, and then straightened her back to meet her stepson. He was seventeen, practically a man, which meant he was able to fend for himself. She had never met him so she was a little nervous.

She watched as her weather worn husband slapped the hood with more force than necessary and the dark haired, young man emerged from the truck.

‘He’s got his daddy’s height,’ was Missy’s first thought, then as he got closer she was surprised by how incredibly handsome he was. Richard and Scott were standing beside each other looking at Missy with the same blank expression. Like father, like son.

‘So this is what my husband looked like as a young man,’ she thought, studying Scott.

Missy saw her husband’s bright gray-blue eyes, his nose that perhaps on someone else may be a little too long. She saw Richard in Scott’s unlined face, unbent body and his uncalloused hands. Scott’s face was also free and clear of defeat.

Defeat hadn’t been on Richard’s face when Missy first agreed to marry him, back when the crops were bountiful and there was plenty of money in the bank. Then the droughts had set in and as more of the fields withered and died, the money had dried up as well. Obviously with less money their marriage had crumbled as well, leaving Missy aching for the husband she once knew.

Missy loved her husband very much, but you can’t make a marriage work when you are the only one putting something in. She was on the verge of leaving Richard until last spring when the rains hit, and now slowly but surely the fields were sprouting new life. For the first time in a while Missy was feeling hope. That is why Richard broke down and called Scott for help. He couldn’t afford to hire anyone for this summer, but was hopeful for next year. For now, Scott would have to do.

She planted her best smile and extended her hand and introduced herself since her husband wasn’t going to. “Hi Scott, I’m Missy. It’s great to finally meet you.”

“Hello, ma’am.” His voice, although deep, was softer than his father’s.

“Please call me Missy.”

He gave her a small shrug and an awkward nod.

Missy reached out and touched Scott’s bag. “Here let me take that and I’ll put it in your room for you while your daddy takes you around. I’m assuming you remember where it is.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

Richard turned and headed for the closest field, “Now, I’m going to need you start…”

Missy stepped forward, took the bag, and whispered, “Go before he leaves you behind. Patience is not your daddy’s strong suit.”

Scott finally let go of the bag, nodded and jogged to catch up with his dad. As he went, Missy could not help but admire the firm, youthful body that Scott had. She felt flushed and knew that there was more than just perspiration between her legs now.

**Scott**

Richard was talking, but Scott was definitely not listening. All he was worried about was concealing the massive hard on he now was sporting, all thanks to his not so haggish stepmother. Her sultry voice had drawn him in, and he had been unable to tear his gaze away from her beautiful eyes, and the way her lips moved.

“You listenin’ boy?” his father’s voice breaking into his thoughts.

“Yes Sir!” he rapt back, trying to pay attention, but failing miserably.

Scott’s mind was far from the crops and fields that his father was talking about. Instead, his mind kept drifting back to his curvy step mother, the way the wind fluttered her dress about her, and how the breeze caught her hair just right. He gulped as he remembered how her fingers had briefly touched his when she had reached for his bag. Her rough hands had excited him, and his stiff member yearned for her touch.

“That’s enough for today,” his father’s firm tone rang through Scott’s fantasy. Hours had passed and he had barely noticed.

“Right,” Scott mumbled back.

“Look, I know it’s a lot, just try and do as I do,” Richard said with a softer voice.

The change in his father surprised Scott, “I’ll do my best, Sir.”

Richard stared back at him for a moment, “I know you will son.”

With that they both turned towards the house. Scott suddenly felt ashamed for thinking of his stepmother like that. ‘I have to stop thinking about her like this. I’m here to do a job, and she is married to my father.’

They entered the house, his father quickly kicked off his shoes and Scott followed suit. The smell of cooking instantly hit his nostrils and his stomach rumbled as he remembered he hadn’t eaten since before getting on the plane that morning. He padded into the kitchen while his father went to the bathroom.

Missy was facing the stove, her back to the door. Scott’s eyes immediately went to her bottom, only thinly covered by the worn dress. He had never seen her from behind, and it was quite the view. The color drained from his face, the blood all rushing back to his cock. She was humming and swaying to whatever tune was playing in her mind. Her full hips swayed this way and that, and Scott had to fight to repress the urge to take them in his hands and squeeze.

He pawed at his groin, readjusting his cock to be less noticeable. Satisfied that it was, he moved to her side to look at the stove. Missy’s eyes were half closed, and she was still humming when he lightly touched her shoulder.

“Oh!” she gasped and jumped.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Scott replied bashfully.

“You, you didn’t,” she laughed, embarrassed to be caught off guard.

“Can I help?” he asked hopefully.

“I don’t think so dear,” she replied quickly, turning away.

“Oh,” he said, resigning himself to an awkward night.

“Wait,” she said suddenly, her hand brushing his again.

A tingle shot through Scott and he looked at Missy, “Yes?”

“Could you take this dish to the table?” she asked, her cheeks turning red.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Enough with that ma’am stuff, I’m not your mother,” Missy rapped back, but then bit her lip.

“Alright,” he murmured walking away.

He set the dish on the table as his father came into the kitchen. Scott hurried past him to wash up.

After quickly relieving his bladder, Scott washed his hands and quietly walked back into the kitchen. His father was sitting at the table, flipping through the day’s newspaper. Missy was still piddling about the kitchen, putting the final preparations on dinner. He briefly glanced at the roundness of her ass before the heat rose in his cheeks and a sharp pang of guilt ripped through him.

“Anything I can do to help?” he offered again.

Missy turned around and opened her mouth, but his father beat her to speaking.

“Sit down boy, Missy has this. Make sure you eat enough you’ll need your strength to be of any use to me tomorrow,” Richard said gruffly, without even looking up from the paper.

Scott’s eyes met Missy’s and she mouthed at him to sit down. She placed the rest of the dishes on the table, and then sat down herself.

Scott began picking at the various dishes before their eyes met again. Her eyes were wide and she shook her head quickly, but it was too late.

“Well boy, since you saw fit to take the first pick of the spread, you can say grace,” his father said, folding the paper and tossing it aside.

Scott sighed internally, kicking himself for not remembering. He quickly took his father’s hand, then Missy’s. The instant they touched he felt the same tingle as before. Looking at her to see if she felt it too, he noticed eyes were closed, but her cheeks were flushed. Missy gently squeezed his hand seconds before his father cleared his throat impatiently.

“Thank you God for these gifts you have given us, including our health, this food, and the rains that will bring us a good harvest,” Scott said quickly.

His father grunted and dropped his hand. Missy withdrew her own slowly.

Scott’s face was flushed, he had hoped to impress his father with the little research he had done about the area and farming, but if anything it seemed to annoy him. So he ate his supper in silence. He briefly tried to make eye contact with Missy a few times, but she seemed to always be looking somewhere else.

“I’m takin’ a shower,” Richard announced as he got up without taking his own dishes to the sink.

“Alright,” Missy said quietly, looking at the floor.

Scott’s heart pained; it was clear to see his father was neglectful of her. He wanted to do something, but had no idea how to comfort a real woman. Instead, he cleared his throat and picked up his dish to put it in the sink.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that Scott,” Missy said quickly.

“I want to,” he smiled back, hoping it was convincing.

She grinned a little at him. He walked back to the table and picked up his father’s dishes. Returning to the sink he began washing everything carefully, using as little water as possible. Missy walked up beside him and attempted to take over. He smiled and nudged his hip against her, keeping her away.

“I got this Missy,” he said quietly, liking the way her name sounded on his tongue.

“Scott…”

“It’s fine,” he said smiling.

She gave a grateful smile and began putting the leftovers away. He was aware of her eyes on him, but he continued to wash and hum softly until they heard the shower go off.

“You should wash up,” she said.

“You go ahead, I’ll finish here,” he replied without turning around.

“No, Scott.”

His cock jumped slightly at the way she said his name, but when he turned to look at her she was shaking her head. “It’s your turn. Go. I’ll finish up here.”

Scott sighed and nodded. He just wanted to be helpful. He walked out of the kitchen to do as she asked.

He stood in the shower letting the hot water wash away the stress of the day. His mind quickly turned back to Missy and his cock began to harden. With one hand on the wall, the other one cupped his balls then slid over his cock, sliding slowly up and down.

Scott’s eyes were closed as flashes of Missy’s thigh, and images of her ass swaying gently back and forth were driving him to stroke harder. He pictured coming up behind her as she moved to music and running his hands under her dress, flipping it up over her bottom while he pressed his cock between her cheeks. Rocking slowly up and down as she moved and moaned his name. Stroking harder, he moaned softly as he saw himself sliding into her wet pussy. His hips rocking faster as he felt his balls tighten and with one final thrust Scott came hard with Missy’s name on his lips.

His father had gone to bed without saying anything, and Scott was just fine with that, the less they saw each other the less he could annoy his father. He went to tell Missy goodnight, but she was nowhere to be found so with a sigh, Scott made his way to bed.

Several hours later Scott woke with a jump, not knowing where he was. It all came back and he flopped back on his pillow. He got out of bed to pee and walked down the hallway quietly, so as not to wake his father. The bathroom door was cracked open, showing a sliver of light. He started to go in when he heard a soft moan. Scott froze.

“Ohhh, baby. Mmm,” he heard Missy say.

Blushing hard he thought he had just caught his dad and Missy having sex, but when he turned quickly to go back to his room something caught his ear.

“Scott…...