LOVE IN THE HAYLOFT

Forbidden fruit is always the sweetest. Ever since those Ancient times, when the Primordial Serpent seduced Eve, and she, in turn, persuaded Adam to try the apple of paradise. Since then, absolutely nothing has changed and the most desirable thing in the future remains what is not allowed, and what was not worth thinking about at all. I was clearly convinced of this centuries-old wisdom last year, when I involuntarily and seriously became interested in Anna.

At that time, I had just gotten a job as a loader at a small furniture factory in our regional center. The work was not too difficult, the team was not large, and there was often a minute or two

of free time from work. In such conditions, all the furniture makers knew each other very well, and some of them even developed quite friendly relations.

I was no exception to this rule. Less than a week of work had passed before I quietly became friends with Andrey. A cheerful, friendly and friendly man of average height with thick black hair on his head. We were practically the same age, so there were enough topics for friendly conversations. At first they talked about all sorts of everyday differences. Then they began to openly talk about themselves, their past lives and difficult present. They openly shared plans and hopes for the future.

From these stories I learned that Andrey comes from a remote village in our area. For more than ten years now, he has been living in in-laws with his wife Anna, two small children, and old father-in-law and mother-in-law. Previously, in order to earn a loaf of bread, a man was forced to work abroad to earn money. But he was already very tired of wandering in a foreign land, so the newly made friend now basically sits at home, working part-time wherever and whenever possible in the regional center or surrounding villages.

I was soon able to clearly see who and how my friend was living with. Friendly and sincere in his nature, Andrei did not hesitate for long, and after a month of our friendship he invited me to visit him. His eldest daughter was supposed to celebrate her name day in a few days, so his friend couldn’t come up with anything more original than introducing me to his family at this family celebration.

Of course, I tried to refuse this invitation. But my friend turned out to be quite persistent, so I had no choice but to finally agree. The next Sunday, with a gift under my arm for the birthday girl, I found myself at a friend’s house, where, among other household members and guests of the festive fun, I met Andrei’s wife Anna.

I confess frankly, at first the woman did not make any too noticeable impression on me. She was short, thin, and had unfeminine roots. She had a masculine facial structure, simple and at the same time spectacular. Sort of like an inverted triangle. A sharp chin that turned into a strong jaw. The corners of the lips are curved upward. Then came the pointed tip of a straight Roman nose, steep cheekbones, brown eyes with a cat-like slit and, at the end, a dark peak of curly hair on a high forehead.

In communication, Anna, unlike her talkative man, turned out to be not too talkative. During the entire celebration, I didn’t hear even a dozen phrases from her. The woman greeted the newly arrived guests with friendly smiles, quickly brought plates of delicious dishes from the kitchen, sat silently at the table, listening to the conversations that took place between us. And when she said something, she did it in a pleasant melodic pronunciation, somewhat similar to the purring of a little kitten.

This soft timbre of a woman’s voice for some reason is firmly “sown” in my memory. He voluntarily settled in his mind like a corrosive worm, in order to remind himself from time to time with strange anxiety and incomprehensible excitement. Under their influence, I involuntarily began to remember Anna more and more often. Imagination obsessively painted her image. And each such memory caused a previously unknown irritating, aching pain in the heart.

Confused and puzzled, I racked my brains for a long time over the reason for such mental turmoil. Until my friend again invited me to his house. This time my friend needed my help. Andrey, like any good owner, had a large plot of clover that he did not have time to mow in time. That's why my friend asked me to come and help him. I, of course, happily agreed.

Half a day of scythe flew by in an instant. The coolness of the dawn, the ringing whistle of a steel blade, the aroma of freshly cut grass intertwined into a single bundle of incredible impressions, which only those who were born and raised in the village can adequately appreciate. The prickly dew on my bare feet, the cheerful morning sun and the pleasant fatigue in my muscles only complemented this unique picture.

When most of the work was already done, and it became quite hot, Andrey threw his braid over his shoulder and said to me:

- That’s enough for today. I'll finish the rest myself tomorrow. Now we return to the village, time for lunch.

At Andrey’s home, a generous and delicious lunch was already waiting for us. Besides the two of us, Anna also sat at the table. As befits, after hard, exhausting work, the owner pulled out a magarych, a bottle of strong moonshine. We drank a glass, then another, and another. Each time I said ornate greetings to such a hardworking owner, skillful housewife, and their prosperous household.

My friend responded to my verbose wishes with gratitude, and his wife visibly blushed. However, either under the influence of my eloquence, or thanks to the alcohol I drank, the woman became much more talkative. She began to talk to us casually, laugh merrily at my jokes and sayings, and, at the end of dinner, she even asked me several questions of a rather personal nature. I answered them joyfully, feeling tipsy from restless excitement and unbridled excitement.

I returned home with the firm conviction that I did feel something for my friend’s wife. It’s not hard to guess what kind of feeling it was. I was a young, temperamental and hot guy, she was a young and yet quite pretty woman. Hence the hurricane of fiery emotions, a whirlwind of uncontrollable desires, a storm of ambiguous dreams and passionate fantasies that flared up in my soul with such scorching heat that I lost peace for a long time.

During long sleepless nights I thought about Anna. I remembered her every smile, every gesture, every quietly spoken word. I tormented myself with images of a woman’s face, so simple and at the same time incredibly desirable, her thin cherry lips and piercingly sparkling eyes. I tortured my mind with forbidden dreams, unresolved fantasies, unworthy thoughts. In a dream and in reality, I wanted to take possession of someone else’s wife in no way, despite all the possible and impossible consequences of this sinful desire.

During the day, at work, I carefully found out from Andrei everything that could be learned about his betrothed. He was interested in women's tastes, tastes, hobbies. He unobtrusively asked about everything that had little to do with Anna. And he was also looking for the smallest opportunity to visit a friend again, and at least once again see his wife. I naively hoped that, having met her, I could at least a little calm down my own lust and restore order in my head.

Clearly, these hopes were in vain. Soon Andrei asked me for the second time to help him with the housework. I readily agreed, went to a friend’s village, and saw Anna. But this trip certainly did not bring me any relief. Just like the next few random “dates” with a woman didn’t help. The demon of passion in my soul was not so easy to calm down. He demanded his sacrifice in no way, despite the weak protests of the remnants of common sense, male decency and ordinary human dignity.

Apparently, over time, this carnal lust would eventually subside on its own if I were absolutely sure that I would never receive reciprocity

from a woman. However, unfortunately, I did not have such absolute confidence. Not that Anna gave any reason to consider her an unfaithful wife. Quite the opposite. She always responded to all my exquisite compliments and barely hidden advances with only a sweet smile. However, the sparkling and playful sparkle in the woman’s eyes, when she quietly glanced in my direction, gave her away completely. He allowed me to hope for success in the event of a decisive and persistent “attack” on the impregnable “fortress” of Anna’s feminine virtues. It gave me hope that the forbidden fruit might still fall into my hands.

Soon a perfect opportunity arose for such a desperate “assault.” Andrei needed my help again. This time, a friend needed to bring and stack the clover that the two of us were mowing. I happily agreed because I had a presentiment that something unusual was going to happen that day. Intuition, as always, did not let me down. Although at first nothing foreshadowed anything special.

We spent almost half a day raking the clover into windrows, then putting them into stacks, and finally loading them onto a trailer. When the hay was already at a friend’s yard, it turned out that it still needed to be stacked under a high wooden canopy. I took on this work as the more experienced one. Andrey, with his strong, long arms, stayed downstairs to give me the hay upstairs. He turned out to be so agile and quick in his work that I soon asked for help.

And unexpected help soon appeared in the form of Anna. The woman climbed into the hayloft to continue folding clover with me. I looked at her and was literally dumbfounded by what I saw. In a short green skirt and a thin pink T-shirt, she looked simply unsurpassed. With her hair tied in a tight ponytail, tanned bare feet and a household pitchfork in her hands, Anna at that moment seemed extremely seductive and seductive to me.

Stunned, I couldn’t utter a word for a long time. And in order to at least a little calm down the agitated blood that was seething like hot lava in my veins, I went to work diligently. And he did it with such zeal that the pitchfork could not stand it in my hands and soon broke. I had to take a short break in the stacking; Andrei went downstairs to repair my instrument; I and his wife stayed upstairs to rest a little.

When my friend’s steps died down, I finally dared to look at Anna. She stood a step away from me. She was warmed up and sweaty from exhausting work. The woman's tight chest heaved heavily under the thin fabric of the T-shirt, from intermittent, rapid breathing. A lock of hair stuck to my forehead. The eyes were lowered down, as if they were afraid to meet my gaze. Thin eyelashes trembled barely noticeably, either from fatigue or for some other reason.

Unable to fight my excited nature any longer, I approached the woman close to her. He grabbed her by the waist, pressed her tightly to himself, and brazenly connected his lips with hers. Anna began to resist awkwardly, staggering her head back. However, she did this most likely instinctively rather than consciously. Without that fanatical determination that is so inherent in women who do not allow even an accidental touch of another man, not to mention a hot kiss.

Encouraged by such ambiguous behavior of the woman, I literally showered her face with a shower of hot kisses. I persistently searched for women's lips. And having found them, he dug in with as much passion as he was capable of. And under the influence of this endlessly passionate kiss, Anna somehow imperceptibly went limp in my arms. The woman stopped struggling, allowing me to gently hold her to me. My tongue boldly broke through the obstacle of her lips, entered her mouth and finally reached her tongue. Our tongues connected, intertwined, like two snails.

At the same time, my palms began to shamelessly explore all the seductive charms of the female body. One hand quickly slipped under Anna’s thin T-shirt and began to gently caress the woman’s back and shoulders. The second one resolutely headed down, quickly climbed under her skirt and in a moment greedily grabbed onto a lush woman’s buttock.

My friend’s wife was even taken aback by my impudence. Taking her lips off my lips, she quietly whispered:

- Volodya, what are you doing?

— I want you,” I answered honestly.

— You can’t do that,” she said, as if justifying herself. — I’m a married woman and I don’t want to cheat on my husband.

— I don’t care,” I snapped briefly.

Grabbing the woman in my arms, I throw her into the hay and fall on top of her. Anna begins to desperately resist, not realizing that with her inept movements she is only inciting me. With one sharp movement I turn her onto her stomach. Then, having crushed the woman under me, I unfasten the bra clasps without much difficulty and free Anna from this element of a woman’s clothing. Lifting your skirt and pulling tiny silk panties down to your knees is also not a big problem.

Anna makes an attempt to scream for help, and I, covering her mouth with my hand, feverishly whisper:

- Be silent, you fool, otherwise your husband will hear, and then there will be no shame. You know what people in the village will talk about you later. You won't make excuses in life.

I guess from the bated breath that she understood me. Life in the village is a peculiar thing. It has its own rules, laws, customs and superstitions. They are especially strict towards young married women. Undoubtedly, the majority of fellow villagers will definitely decide that Anna voluntarily gave herself to me, and all the stories about rape are her clumsy invention. Therefore, the woman has no choice but to beg me for mercy.

- Don’t, Volodya... I beg you, don’t do this... Stop it immediately... I don’t want to... It hurts... Let go, dear...

But all these laments from Anna only excited me even more. Without paying any attention to them, I begin to rape her without any remorse. With my knee I spread the tightly clenched female thighs, quickly free my “hard worker” from his pants and stick him into Anna’s slit. She shudders, and I note with pleasure that, apparently, Andrei is a frequent guest here. My “stake” slips into her hole easily and unhindered.

Entering the woman, I command her imperiously:

-Spread your legs wider.

Anna reluctantly follows my order, and I gently kiss her neck as a sign of encouragement for obedience. The woman shudders, and to cheer her up, I quietly advise:

- Relax and try to have fun.

And she seemed to listen to my words. The woman stopped resisting, standing motionless under me. Such submission from Anna stirred up my excited lust even more. She encouraged me to take full advantage of my position. And I do this with great pleasure. At first I take complete comfort in plump female breasts. Holding them in my palms, I enthusiastically amuse myself with the tenderness of the silky skin, the seductive elasticity of these huge hemispheres and the hardness of the large, pointed nipples.

Then my hand slowly slides down. I caress a well-fed woman’s belly with incredible pleasure. Then I go even lower and slowly feel Anna’s intimate slit with my fingers. It's surprisingly big and wet. The thick “ridges” of the labia are hospitably parted. They tremble and tremble when touched. Anna's clitoris looks even more provocative. He is a real hero who just begs to fall into my hands. And I do not dare to deceive his hopes. Grabbing this tubercle with two fingers, I begin to intensively massage it.

Anna quietly screams. Either from humiliation, or from pleasure. But I don't care. My “stallion” has already stagnated in the “stables” of the female vagina. He is ready for a decisive “assault” and I happily allow him to “frolic” in these fertile places. Several slow movements back and forth, then a powerful full-length blow, and again several smooth thrusts back and forth. And then in the same rhythm until the woman’s body begins to instinctively respond to my actions. At first they ate noticeably, and then more and more clearly Anna demonstrates that she likes to be raped. Anna is submissive and obedient in my arms. She readily sticks out her ass allowing me to penetrate deeper and deeper into her body. Her hot vagina feverishly pulsates and vibrates from all the “pranks” of my “iron Felix”. Her buttocks are wet with sweat, and her breasts heave convulsively with excited sighs. She's like a volcano ready to explode at any moment.

It’s clear that I’m trying to bring this moment closer to the best of my ability. And it will soon come. The raped woman begins to squirm excitedly under me. A languid cry escapes her lips. Anna's whole body is shaking, as if in a fever. И это придает мне вдохновение ускорить свою роботу. Словно дятел я долблю и долблю ее распаленное лоно. Мои ладони безжалостно терзают ее груди. Мои пальцы грубо щиплют ее половые губи и энергично трут набухший клитор. Мои зубы кусают ее нежную шейку, а губы шепчут различные пошлости. Я стараюсь сделать все возможное, чтобы самому постичь блаженство оргазма, и доставить удовольствие Анне.

Кончаю я бурно и долго. Загнав свой член в женское влагалище по яйца, с удовольствием испускаю в него весь запас спермы, который скопился у меня за последнее время. Заполняю этот сладострастный сосуд до краев своей горячей жидкостью. Анна визжит подо мной словно резаный поросенок. Наверное, женщина привыкла именно так выражать свое сексуальное восхищение. А возможно ей немножко больно, ведь мой «аппарат» разошелся не на шутку. Тем не менее, не прошло и несколько секунд, как к моему оргазму добавился оргазм Анны. Женщина сжимается словно пружина, а потом испускает такой вопль, что у меня аж в ушах закладывает.

Она станет и бьется в моих объятиях до тех пор, пока не возвращается Андрей с отремонтированными вилами. Услышав голос своего мужа, Анна вырывается из под меня, мгновенно подтягивает трусики и кидается опять складывать сено. В полумраке, вечера, ее лицо горит от жгучего стыда. Мне же не остается ничего другого как последовать ее примеру. Чувствовал в то мгновение я себя прескверно, как будто малый мaльчик, который навредил в чужом саду, и которого едва не застукал суровый сосед с розгами в руках.

После этого пикантного случая мы с Анной больше никогда не виделись. За несколько дней на работе со мной произошел досадный случай. Загружая диван, я споткнулся и упал. Результат такой моей неловкости был печаль. Как будто в наказание за осуществленный грех, я сломал себе ногу и более чем на месяц оказался прикованным к кровати. Когда более-менее выздоровел, стало известно, что фирма, на которой работал, обанкротилась. Чтобы дальнейшее зарабатывать себе на ломоть хлеба пришлось отправляться на заработки заграница. Там, на чужбине, мне удалось несколько прийти в себя и более-менее угомонить свою разнузданную страсть.

Однако об Анне я все же не забыл. Время от времени вспоминаю ее и нашу грешную любовь на сеновале. Надеюсь, женщина не обижается на меня за то, что я так недостойно поступил с ней. Надеюсь когда-то она хоть попробует понять и те причины, которые побуждали меня изнасиловать ее, и обстоятельства через которые я был вынужден прервать пикантные отношения, которые к счастью не вышли за рамки одной интимной вольности.

Запрещенный плод всегда самый сладок. Да еще из тех, Древнейших Времен, за его обольстительный вкус непременно приходится чем-то расплачиваться. И главное своевременно остановиться, чтобы эта расплата не была слишком большой и дорогой для нас. Остановиться, чтобы потом не было стыдно за себя и свои поступки перед всеми теми, кто для нас важен. Даже тогда когда тебя соблазняет такой возбуждающе-страстный случай, который был у меня с Анной…