Saturday, June 24, 1995
Heather was pissed. Really pissed. Pissed off at her now ex-boyfriend Jimmy, pissed off at her father, pissed off at Katie Donovan, pissed off at the whole damn world.
She slammed on the brakes of the beat-up, old Chevy work pickup she was driving. It skidded to a halt on the dirty, dusty road. She turned the key and let the pickup die. Heather gazed out at the field of wheat stubble off to her left. Varying shades of yellow and brown cascaded over the landscape as the wind occasionally stirred straw into the air.
They had just completed harvest a few days before and now it was time to work the fields, preparing the soil for yet another crop. What an endless cycle, Heather vaguely thought to herself. Plant the wheat, grow the wheat, harvest the wheat, till the fields, repeat… How monotonous.
That’s why she was pissed off at her father. She’d just broken up with Jimmy the night before and she was in absolutely no mood to drive a tractor today. Yet, her father insisted. “Life goes on,” he had said callously. “Fields have to be worked, boyfriend or no boyfriend.” He had no sympathy. No subtlety. No heartfelt words of regret. All he could think about were his precious wheat fields.
Heather hated wheat. She was allergic to it. It made her cough, it made her sneeze, it made her eyes gunk over. This was the condition she liked it best--mowed down by combines and left as six inch long remnants.
Still sitting in the driver’s seat of the pickup, she placed both arms over the top of the steering wheel and rested her forehead on her arms. “It’s gonna be a long day,” Heather said to no one. She sighed deeply and reached for the door handle with one hand, and her water jug with the other.
As she stepped out of the vehicle, a wave of hot air greeted her instantly. It was only 8:30 in the morning but it was already apparent that it would be another 100-degree day—the third in a row. She reached down and unbuttoned the long-sleeved shirt her father had made her wear.
“Never know when you might have to do some real work,” he always said.
Heather slipped the shirt off, revealing a white tank top. She stretched, letting the sun caress her shoulders, while the wind simultaneously cooled her. She threw the shirt into the cab of the pickup, but then thought twice about it, and tucked it under her arm. She’d bring it along with her, after all, she never knew when she might have to do some real work.
She slammed the pickup’s door shut, but then, in frustration, jerked it back open. She leaned back across the seat and grabbed the grubby old Texas Rangers ball cap that she normally wore when she was working. She slipped it on, completely covering up her short-cropped, spiky black hair. She’d just gotten all of her hair chopped off a few weeks before. It had been her graduation present to herself. She’d put up with the hairdo her mother wanted up through graduation. Her mom had been furious when she’d walked into the house with a “boy’s haircut”.
Heather trudged through the stubble and made her way towards the giant blue four-wheel-drive tractor she would be driving. She checked the oil and other fluid gauges she needed to, and then inspected the 34-foot wide disk she’d be pulling. On a normal day, she didn’t mind disking—she really didn’t—it beat the hell out of plowing. But today, she was just not in the mood.
She opened the door, climbed up the ladder, and hopped into the tractor. She sat down, stomped on the clutch, turned the key, and the huge machine roared into life. Air conditioner, on. Radio, on. Brake, off. She put the tractor in gear and took off, lowering the blades of the disk into the ground as she went.
Heather settled in. The field was 110 acres. She’d be out here awhile. It wasn’t all bad. It sure beat the old days. Just eight years ago, when she was ten, she’d learned to drive on an open-air tractor with just a canopy for shade. But then, a few years ago, an oil company came in and started drilling on their land. The family had received some nice paychecks from it. Of course, in the true fashion of her father, he had spent most of it on new farm equipment. Meaning their family was still a bunch of struggling farmers, but they had some really nice-ass shit to drive around.
Sitting on a tractor can be a lonely experience. It is especially so, when one doesn’t want to be there. Heather had only her thoughts to keep her company, and her thoughts were overwhelmingly negative this morning. All she could think about was what had happened the night before, and how much she wanted to leave this town (just another month and a half and she’d be off to college).
Around and around she went, breaking the ground open 34 feet at a time. Stewing in her own thoughts and becoming more miserable with each pass. The radio was playing “Any Man of Mine” by Shania Twain. Heather immediately reached up and switched it off. Every song seemed to remind her of Jimmy. The tractor reminded her of her father. Her hair reminded her of her mother. She could feel the scowl chiseled on her face. It was giving her a headache.
Heather was on the backside of the field. As far away from the gate as she could possibly be, when another pickup stopped beside her own. She was too far away to tell who it was. All she could see was that it was a white pickup. A dozen farmers in the area had the same one. Was it someone coming to gripe her out for not parking her pickup far enough off the road? Some friend of her fathers, who thought it was him on the tractor, and wanted to come shoot the shit for a few minutes?
As she rounded the corner, and came closer to the gate, the mysterious visitor came into view. Heather instantly recognized her. Even at this distance, there was no mistaking the slender, athletic build of her best friend, Tracy.
Tracy and Heather had known each other pretty much their entire lives. They’d played together as kids. They’d gone to school together. They’d played basketball together (Tracy was always the best player on the team, while Heather mostly cheered from the bench), and in less than two months, they were going to be roommates in college together.
As Heather drove closer, Tracy waved and flashed a huge smile, in only the way Tracy could. She was always in a good mood, and always able to cheer Heather up. Heather waved back, to acknowledge that she had seen her, and continued to watch her friend, who was now standing and waiting. As she watched, Tracy slapped at her knee and scratched an elbow. The mosquitoes were bad this time of year.
Knees and elbows. That pretty much described Tracy. Heather had always been the pretty one. The one who had gotten all the guys. Of course, Tracy had had a boyfriend or two along the way, but guys just never seemed that interested in her for some reason. She was awkward everywhere except on the basketball court.
Heather had finally made her way back to the gate, and she came to a stop, just a few feet from where Tracy was standing. She opened the door and allowed the other girl to climb in. The tractor cab was spacious enough to accommodate two people. This one even included a little fold-out seat for a second person. It made for close quarters, but not uncomfortable.
Tracy was wearing soccer shorts and a T-shirt—that’s pretty much all she ever wore. Her straight blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. As she slammed the door shut, and plopped down in the little fold-out seat, she smiled once more at Heather.
“How are you this morning?” Tracy asked.
Heather put the tractor back in motion and checked behind her to make sure the disk was still okay. “I’m doing okay,” she lied as she feigned a smile.
“No, you’re not,” Tracy said with a grin and playfully bumped her shoulder against Heather’s. “You want to talk about it?” she asked.
Heather shook her head. How did she know? she asked herself. No matter how she tried to hide it, Tracy had always been able to tell exactly how Heather was feeling.
“Jimmy?” Tracy questioned.
“Mostly,” Heather replied.
“What happened?” Tracy pressed.
Heather thought for a moment. She really didn’t want to talk about it, but of course, Tracy needed to know. “Last night, Jimmy and I went to that party. You know, out at the old Benedict Place.”
“I don’t know why you waste your time with stuff like that,” Tracy commented. “A bunch of high school kids standing around in a pasture drinking beer is not my idea of a good time.”
Heather couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah, well, I wish we hadn’t gone,” she said weakly. “It was probably about one o’clock in the morning, and I was looking for Jimmy, wanting to go home.”
“And?” Tracy prompted.
“I found him,” Heather said simply. “He was sittin’ in Kyle’s pickup—with Katie Donovan’s face in his crotch.”
“Bastard,” Tracy commented, and placed a comforting hand on Heather’s shoulder.
Heather sniffed, she could feel her eyes welling up, but she didn’t want to cry. “That bitch will suck anyone’s dick,” she said finally. She sniffed again. “I told him to fuck off.”
“Good for you,” Tracy encouraged. “I’m really sorry that happened—most guys are like that, you know.” As she spoke, she rubbed her hand across Heather’s back from one shoulder blade to the other. It felt good, relaxing.
There was a comfortable silence between them, with the drone of the tractor’s engine filling the air. Eventually, Tracy started talking, about anything and everything, in an obvious effort to distract Heather from her problems. She left her arm around Heather’s back and rested her head on Heather’s bare shoulder.
They made several passes around the field, talking about life, and what they were going to do when they went to college, and how much fun it would be to be away from the little shithole town they lived in. Heather’s mood had improved considerably since Tracy’s arrival, but she couldn’t be distracted completely.
“I just don’t get it,” Heather blurted out. “If he wanted his cock sucked, he should have just asked. I would have done it. But instead, what do I see? Katie’s frizzy red hair bobbing up and down.” Her earlier anger instantly flared back to life.
“Don’t worry about it,” Tracy encouraged. “It’s his problem, not yours. He’s in the past now.”
Once again, she started massaging Heather’s back, digging her strong fingers in a bit harder than she had before. Heather could instantly feel the tension melt away in her best friend’s hands. Tracy delicately placed her left hand on Heather’s knee. Heather glanced down at the hand, thinking it an odd gesture, but dismissed it almost immediately. After all, Tracy was just trying to comfort her.
Yet… was it Heather’s imagination, or was Tracy’s hand moving further up her thigh. No, it was not her imagination. Tracy probably just wasn’t paying attention. But then, Tracy’s fingers gripped her thigh firmly. It was a playful gesture, but it indicated to Heather that Tracy knew exactly where her hand was. What was going on here? Heather wondered.
The hand on Heather’s back shifted from the deep massaging motions of a moment before, to something more sensual. Tracy seemed to be caressing Heather’s bare shoulders with a tender touch. It made her skin tingle.
Tracy moved her head off Heather’s shoulder, where it had been resting the entire time. A moment later, Heather felt her best friend’s wet lips gently kiss the side of her neck. A wave of adrenaline instantly surged through Heather’s body. A chill ran down her back, all the way to her toes, and all points in between. She glanced at Tracy with a shocked expression.
Tracy was still just inches away from her, but the look on her face seemed to be waiting for either a rebuke or approval. “I’m sorry about what happened between you and Jimmy, I really am,” she whispered. Her mouth was close enough to Heather’s ear that she could feel the girl’s breath tickle with each word. “But right now, I just want to make you feel better.”
“What do you mean?” Heather asked gently.
Tracy answered with another kiss to the neck. She knew just the spot to kiss too. All those late night conversations, where they had told each other so many secrets. Tracy knew exactly what turned Heather on—whispering in the ear, and kissing that one spot on her neck.
Heather turned her head towards Tracy, and their lips met. She’d never kissed Tracy before. She’d kissed a couple of other girls, on dares at parties, but she’d never even thought about kissing Tracy. Why not? she asked herself. Of all the girls I know, the one I would be most comfortable kissing would be Tracy. These thoughts darted through her mind as Tracy’s tongue darted into her mouth.
Kissing while driving a tractor is kind of dangerous. This thought also flashed through Heather’s mind, and it made her giggle.
“What’s funny?” Tracy asked in between kisses, giggling a little herself. Heather explained what had made her laugh, and Tracy smiled as she leaned in seductively. “We’ll manage,” she said simply.
Heather suddenly became aware that Tracy’s other hand had made a lot of progress. It was no longer on her thigh, but instead, just inches away from being squarely between her legs. A moment later, it was. Tracy began massaging Heather’s crotch through her jeans. It felt good. She could feel the heat between her legs and knew she was quickly getting wet.
What was happening was so unbelievable. It didn’t make an ounce of sense. She and Tracy had never even talked about something like this. Yet, it made perfect sense. Suddenly, certain aspects of Tracy’s life came into focus. Her lack of boyfriends. Those moments in the shower after practice, when Heather had noticed Tracy’s gaze lingering on other girls just a bit longer than usual. Those two months last summer, when Tracy had inexplicably become very close to Sarah Brown. Then, just as inexplicably, the two had stopped speaking to each other altogether.
Tracy began fumbling with the buttons on Heather’s jeans. Heather was almost paralyzed with fear and hesitation. She didn’t know if she wanted Tracy to be doing what she was doing. This would change their entire relationship… Wouldn’t it? In a split second thought, she made her decision. Heather realized their relationship had already been forever altered. It had been as soon as she had felt Tracy’s lips on her neck the first time. She adjusted in her seat to give Tracy’s hands more room to maneuver.
“You concentrate on your driving,” Tracy said softly. “I’ll take care of the rest.”
In a moment, Heather’s jeans were unbuttoned, and Tracy’s hand slid downward. She started rubbing Heather through her thong, and all Heather could do was spread her legs further apart and slump down in her chair a bit more. All the while, Tracy continued gently kissing at Heather’s neck, every once in a while drifting lower, planting soft kisses on her chest as well. There was just enough wetness in Tracy’s lips to make each kiss feel perfect.
The hand between Heather’s legs started teasing at the elastic of her panties. It stayed there for a moment, fingers dancing around, as if Tracy was trying to make a decision—and then she slid her fingers inside the thong, massaging, rubbing, kneading. Heather’s pussy was sopping wet, and she could feel every exquisite move Tracy made with her talented fingers as they passed over her silky smooth folds.
She moaned, “Oh God, that feels good,” escaped her lips, as she shuddered slightly. Tracy altered her technique, slipping a finger all the way inside. Heather gasped slightly. Her best friend was fingering her, and she loved it.
Heather could no longer concentrate on driving—at all. They had reached the backside of the field again, and she abruptly brought the tractor to a halt. She moved the steering wheel up and out of the way, and tugged her jeans down around her knees, to give Tracy even more space.
But Tracy had other plans. She pulled her hand out from between Heather’s legs and, in one aggressive motion, straddled Heather. Tracy lowered her head and kissed her full on the lips, their mouths open, tongues meeting somewhere in between.
Tracy ran one of her hands up under Heather’s tank top, firmly gripping one of her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She never wore a bra with a tank top—she always loved to tease the boys. Without thinking about what she was doing, Heather found her own hands snaking up under Tracy’s T-shirt. Feeling her friend’s long torso, her rib cage, and finally Tracy’s small, but perky tits. To Heather’s surprise, Tracy wasn’t wearing a bra either.
Tracy leaned back and took off her shirt, raising her arms up over her head and scraping her knuckles against the odd fabric on the ceiling of the tractor. “That hurt,” she said with a giggle.
“Here, let me see,” Heather offered, taking Tracy’s hand and examining the knuckles. It was the same hand that she had just been using to rub Heather’s pussy with, and she could still feel her own wetness on Tracy’s fingers. Heather kissed each finger, and then slipped one of the digits into her mouth.
A moment later, Heather’s own tank top was pushed up over her breasts, exposing her round, firm tits to Tracy. Her friend bent low and suckled at each nipple. They were already erect, just from being aroused, but Heather could feel them growing even harder as Tracy’s tongue played with each one in turn.
As Tracy continued to suck at each nipple, Heather relieved herself of the tank top completely, throwing it to the floor of the tractor. That’ll be really dirty, she thought to herself.
Tractors are dirty places. Even nice big ones like this. Everything gets dusty, and grimy, and just downright filthy. There was no doubt about it. They were indeed getting grimy, and they were getting filthy, in more ways than one. But she didn’t care. Neither one of them did.
Tracy wiggled her way off of Heather’s lap, and knelt on the floor in front of her. It was a tight fit, with the steering column, the brake pedals, and the clutch, but somehow, she managed. She reached out and tugged at Heather’s panties, bringing them all the way to her ankles, along with her jeans. A moment later, she pulled them off completely and flung them aside, along with Heather’s shoes.
Heather remained passive. She knew what was going to happen, and she wanted it to happen. She had never felt so much heat between her legs. She was ready for Tracy’s tongue. She wanted it. She needed it. She parted her legs and nodded, to indicate that it was okay.
Tracy moved in. She got less than an inch away from Heather’s pussy, but just before making contact, she exhaled softly, tickling Heather’s muff in a way that was nearly indescribable. Then, she backed away and glanced up at Heather.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to do this to you,” Tracy admitted. “Since I was about sixteen, if you can believe it.”
“How come you never tried until today?” Heather asked. Her body was aching. She desperately wanted to have this conversation with Tracy, but not now. Right now, all she wanted was for Tracy to go down on her.
“I was afraid,” Tracy offered. “Afraid that you’d say no. Afraid it would ruin our friendship.” She moved back in and breathed on the pussy again.
She’s teasing me, Heather thought. She’s making me beg for it. Then, she felt the tip of Tracy’s tongue on her slit. Just the lips at first. So gently, so delicately. It was like having a feather grazed across the most sensitive part of her body. Then, another lick, and another. Tracy’s lips pressed against Heather’s opening, and then, the other girl’s tongue slithered inside her for the first time.
In a matter of just a few more seconds, Tracy was working her tongue in and out, as if she had done this many times—and Heather suspected maybe she had. Tracy’s nose was nestled in her mound, and she was gazing up at Heather, a longing expression in her eyes.
Heather gripped the armrests of her seat. She moaned softly, and closed her eyes, allowing herself to give in completely to the euphoria of the moment. As she did so, an odd thought crossed her mind—what a horrible moment this would be for my father to come and check on my progress.
The thought didn’t last long though. Tracy’s tongue flicked against her clit rapidly, several times in a row. The sensation caused a sharp inhale of breath, and wiped all other thoughts from her mind. As Tracy continued focusing on her clit, she also slipped a finger inside, curling it upwards, gently. Heather wasn’t exactly sure how Tracy was doing it, but she seemed to know exactly what to do to make Heather writhe in ecstasy.
Her breathing increased rapidly. She started grinding her hips, working Tracy’s face into her pussy even more than it was. “Oh, fuck!” was all she could manage to mutter coherently. She was sweating profusely. She could feel the sweat dripping down her forehead, and soaking her entire body. Her breathing quickened even more.
And then, she felt it. It was as if every muscle in her midsection clenched at once. Her thighs clamped around Tracy’s head and she exhaled loudly—her voice caught somewhere between a moan and “Oh God!” as she panted heavily. Then, in the middle of this exhilarating orgasm, Heather’s left foot unexpectedly cramped. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” she yelped. “Cramp! Cramp! Cramp!”
She and Tracy burst out in a fit of laughter. Apparently, everything was fun with Tracy, even sex. As Heather rubbed out the cramp in her foot, Tracy peered up at her, a thoroughly satisfied expression on her face. Heather took a deep breath and attempted to relax. She knew she had just experienced the most amazing thing she had ever felt in her young life.
“Sooo, feeling better about Jimmy now?” Tracy asked with a chuckle.
Heather giggled, letting out another long, relaxed breath. “Who’s Jimmy?” she joked.
The two girls stared at each other for a moment, content, satisfied. Yet, Heather could sense that neither one of them wanted this moment to end. Suddenly, she felt the strong desire to make her friend feel just as good as she did.
“You wanna trade places?” Heather asked coyly.
Tracy almost looked surprised. “If you think you want to. Are you sure you’re ready for that?” she questioned gently.
“I do want to,” Heather responded. “I really do—that is, if you want me to.”
“I do want you to, I really do,” Tracy answered, repeating Heather’s words.
The two friends shuffled around awkwardly inside the cab for a moment, trying to switch places. As soon as Tracy had found her way to the seat, Heather straddled her just as Tracy had done earlier. She kissed her friend deeply, slipping her tongue into her mouth yet again.
This was yet a different sensation. A different experience. She was on top. She was in control. She was the aggressor. All the guys she had been with throughout high school had never liked aggressive women, but this felt good. She could get used to being the dominant one, she thought. She once again felt a stirring between her legs, as her loins revived and she became wet once again.
She moved down to Tracy’s pert little tits, putting each one in her mouth. She’d never had a nipple in her mouth before, and she was surprised at how small and fragile they seemed. She flicked each one with her tongue several times, and as she did, she allowed her hands to explore downwards. Her fingers worked their way down Tracy’s athletic tummy, and inside the waistline of her soccer shorts. Down further yet to her panties, and then inside, without hesitation.
She instantly felt a small tuft of hair and smiled. She knew Tracy didn’t shave completely, she’d seen her little landing strip in the shower before, but the feeling of the sopping wet pubic hair still surprised her.
She kissed at Tracy’s breasts for another moment or two, with one hand massaging her friend’s pussy, but she didn’t waste much time, because Heather knew where she wanted to go. And she knew where Tracy wanted her.
Heather dropped to her knees, and tugged at Tracy’s shorts, which came off easily. She gazed at her friend, sitting in the seat of the tractor in nothing but her cotton panties. They were mostly white, with little blue polka-dots. As Heather studied her friend's amazing body, she still couldn’t wrap her mind around what was happening—and where.
She reached up once more and pulled at the panties, sliding them off the other girl’s legs. Heather ran a hand back up the long, silky smooth legs. As she did, her fingers grazed a scar on Tracy’s knee. Heather remembered that she’d hurt it when they were riding bicycles together when they were sixteen. A strange thought passed through Heather’s mind as she noticed the scar. Had Tracy already desired me at that moment, so many years ago?
She rubbed a cheek against Tracy’s thigh. She gently kissed her, right in the gap between her thigh and her pussy, then the other side. She breathed softly, just as Tracy had done. Heather wanted to make Tracy long for it, wanted to make her desire it as much as she had. She could tell by the expression on Tracy’s face that it was working.
Despite the pleasure, Heather was experiencing from driving Tracy wild, she herself was as nervous as she could imagine. Her heart was racing, her hands were trembling, her breathing shallow. She was moments away from eating her best friend’s pussy—and she wanted to. Yet, she was suddenly having reservations.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she dove in. Her tongue plunged deeply into Tracy’s waiting hole, and she took several laps with her tongue before coming up for air. Tangy. That was the only word Heather could come up with to describe what Tracy’s pussy tasted like, tangy. Whatever the taste was, it was awesome, and Heather found herself craving it. She couldn’t get enough. Every fiber of her being wanted more.
She found Tracy’s clit and began rolling her tongue over it, back and forth, flicking it and sucking at it. She could feel her friend’s muscles tightening. Hear her breathing. Hear her moaning. She could feel the heat radiating off her nether regions. She herself was dripping wet, but Tracy’s pleasure was what mattered right now.
She tried to mimic Tracy’s motions exactly, focusing on her clit and working a finger inside her as well, and then two fingers. She knew Tracy was close, she could feel it in her tense muscles and hear it in the soft little whimpers she was making.
When it finally came, Tracy’s orgasm was intense. Her entire body seemed to shudder wildly. With one hand, she fiercely gripped Heather’s shoulder, digging her fingernails in. The orgasm extinguished with two or three loud gasps. She mumbled something that sounded like a drunk person saying “Oh dear lord, I needed that.”
Heather laughed, and backed away, resting her ass on her heels.
“You know, you’re pretty good at that for a beginner,” Tracy joked. “With a little practice—” but she paused there, a look of horror on her face. “Oh shit,” she said, “it’s your dad.”
Heather whipped around and looked. Sure enough, her father had just driven up to the gate. If he saw the tractor stopped, he would drive out to them and see what the trouble was. She jumped into the seat and set the tractor in motion once more.
The two girls hurriedly dressed as the tractor made its way back to the front of the field, trying to make themselves look like nothing had happened. As they drove, Heather had to chuckle as an amusing thought crossed her mind.
“What’s so funny?” Tracy asked, readjusting her soccer shorts one more time.
“Oh, I was just thinking,” Heather explained with a huge smile, “the idea of having you as a roommate just got a lot more interesting.”
Author’s note: So, yeah… no shit… I lost my lesbian virginity in a tractor cab. I know, I know, how redneck can a girl get? But seriously, you want to know what the funniest part of this whole story was? (for me, at least)... The next day… when I saw my dad sitting in this same tractor--on that same seat. I thought to myself, “Good Lord, can you imagine if he knew what we did in that seat?!”
