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Startled, I chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. I remove my foot from the hole and tentatively test the other steps for potential breakage. I manage to make it up the stairs and to the front door with no further mishaps. I look back at the steps and shake my head.Place needs some work.
The crude wooden door is open, and a screen door lets in the fresh evening breeze while keeping the bugs at bay. I hesitate only a moment before I pull it open and step into the old farmhouse.
“Hello?” I call. Inside the house looks the same as the exterior: old wooden floors in need of refinishing, a sweeping staircase with some rails missing, and walls with faded paper or chipping paint. But I can tell that someone – probably Darcy – has attempted to make the most of the deteriorating space. All around the entryway and from what other rooms I can see, there are brightly colored throws and rugs, antique furniture that’s been kept painstakingly dust-free, and even an ornate chandelier over the dining room table.
From the kitchen, I can smell something delectable and my stomach growls in response. “Here goes nothing,” I mutter to myself as I make my way toward the back room.
At the stove, Darcy is bending over to tend to something in its depths, her round, full ass aimed perfectly in my direction as I enter the room. She stands up but doesn’t notice me yet, halfway turned away from the doorway.
I pause and lean against the doorframe to take in the domestic scene. Darcy’s wearing a sunflower covered apron over leggings and a thin tank top. It’s clear to me that she’s removed her bra for the day, as her nipples are peeking through the worn cotton. Her long brown hair has been thrown up in a tousled bun, and I have never seen a woman look quite so sexy.
Not like those city girls who wear too much make up and keep their hair as stiff as the stick up their asses. No, Darcy is real and I wonder... I brush off the question as I observe this innocent sweet thing before me. Then I clear my throat, startling the girl.
“Oh hi! I didn’t notice you came in.” Darcy greets, wiping her hands on her apron and beckoning for me to come into the kitchen. Her eyes dart from my face to my still-wrapped lower half to the table, clearly ill at ease and embarrassed by something.
“Yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” I sit at the little table as she places a glass of water in front of me.
“Oh no it’s fine. I figured you’d make your way inside sooner or later, otherwise I was going to bring your supper out to you.” Darcy chatters away. “Sorry, I don’t much in the way of beverages. But this is cool water, nice and fresh from the well.” Darcy blushes, embarrassed at her offering and I’m surprised by how profoundly her bashfulness touches me.
“I love water, thanks. I prefer it. Too many men drink too much,” I offer, trying to assure her it’s enough. Grateful for the refreshing beverage, I chug the entire glass of water down in a few solid gulps while Darcy watches. Grinning, I set it on the table. “Guess I was thirsty.” Quickly she rushes to grab my glass and refill it with a pitcher she takes out of the fridge.
“Make yourself comfortable. Supper will be ready in about five minutes.” Darcy scurries about her work, and I find myself unable to take my eyes off her full figure. When she bends over the oven again to remove biscuits, I want to reach for her ass and cup it in my hands.
I feel my dick get hard at imagining other spots on her I’d like to stroke and caress, but my musings are interrupted by Darcy putting dish after dish on the table: fried chicken breasts, biscuits, mashed potatoes, butterbeans, sliced tomatoes, and even a little bottle of port.
“Port?” I ask her.Strange addition to a dinner table.
Gesturing to the small bottle, Darcy smiles shyly.
“It’s not much, but my father liked port after dinner sometimes. I don’t care for the stuff but thought you might like it. Since I don’t have beer or wine or anything.” Again, embarrassment creeps across her delicate features.
I am beyond touched by the thoughtfulness of the gesture and tantalized by the aroma of the delicious meal in front of me. “Thank you, sweetheart, for your kindness and hospitality.”
She beams at me.
“I knew you’d be hungry and you need to get your strength up.” She smiles at me, a genuinely happy smile. “So you’re most welcome, Mister whatever your name is.”
I think quickly. There’s no sense in using my real name when she obviously doesn’t recognize me. “Ranger. Ranger McLeod. No ‘mister’ necessary.”
With a smile, Darcy and I dig into the dinner, me hungry from my recent accident and her because of her long day of farm work.
The meal is delicious, clearly made with a great deal of patience and knowledge about cooking.
“So where did you learn to cook like this? It’s amazing.”
Darcy blushes with pride. “Pa used to cook most meals when I was little, but once I realized how hard it was on him, working the farm all day and then coming back to feed me, I figured it was the least I could do to contribute.” She laughs, a sweet sound. “Lots of mistakes were made in the process, trust me.”
I can’t help but be impressed, because here was a young woman, obviously just out of girlhood, who had spent the entire day working only to have also prepared a full meal for a complete stranger.
Sweet as all get-out, I repeat myself from earlier.
We continue to eat our meal in silence, with the occasional anecdote coming up or comment on the weather.
“Sorry I’m so awkward.” Darcy offers as she reaches for her third biscuit. I eye her round figure appreciatively.Damn, I love a woman who can eat.
“What are you talking about?”
“This.” She indicates the meal. “You, me. I just don’t see a lot of people, so it’s been a long time since I talked to someone who wasn’t the cow or horse.”
