Rhonda's Tired Marriage

This story is fiction, but it does have some actual events woven into it. Most of these occurred around 2004, so pricing and technology reflect that time.

Rhonda Lawrence was sitting in bed with her laptop perched on her knees. She was reading a dirty story, something she was not totally comfortable with but had been reverting to for stimulation in the past few months. She had found Lush Stories after a friend of a friend let slip she had visited the site. The story she had opened before her was by one of her favourite authors, Mingemuncher. It was about a young girl going away on a sailing trip with some guys.

The story's main protagonist, Veronique, was on a beach being photographed by one of the guys she was sailing with, and you didn't need to be a brain surgeon to know that in the following two or three paragraphs, she was going to get fucked. Maybe, Rhonda hoped, by both the guys. More and more, Rhonda found herself searching for stories that had threesomes or group sex, especially with wives involved. This genre was far removed from the reality of her own life and made her uncomfortable, but reading stories with multiple partners turned her on more than she would have believed.

Rhonda was aware that her fingers had slid into the slippery mess between her legs. She glanced down and watched them sliding through her bright red curls. Her pubic hair was more vivid than the long burgundy curls touching her shoulder. She didn't go near her clit, it was much too soon to go near that. She felt around her opening, but again, she resisted plunging her fingers in and bringing herself off too soon. She craved release but wanted to hold off the exquisite rush for as long as possible.

Her mind drifted. Had she ever come close to having sex on a beach when she was younger? She was sure she hadn't. And there had never been the slightest possibility of having two men at once. Hell, she had only ever had one man. She had started dating Harry when she was barely legal, had gotten pregnant, and had to get married. Their son, Michael, was born five months after the wedding, and Gemma and Ian followed soon after.

'Bugger', she thought. Her mind had wandered, and the impending orgasm receded. She refocused, found where she was up to in the story and continued reading.

"Aaron kissed me hard, quite obviously - my tasting myself on Ryker's fingers turned him on. And I felt myself become aroused with this knowledge, and I greedily returned to sucking Ryker's fingers clean. He withdrew his fingers, and I continued attacking Aaron's tongue. I felt Ryker pushing his fingers between my legs again. He worked them around, not to get more juices this time, but instead, it seemed he was working at making me more aroused."

'Shit!' Rhonda exclaimed. She was about to cum, her fingers had spontaneously slipped inside, and her hips were bucking against their every thrust. As the orgasm built, she let her thumb rub against her clit. Rhonda imagined herself on the beach, with Ryker and Aaron scandalously driving her to a climax. She changed hands and plunged her creamy, wet fingers into her mouth. It was the first time she'd ever tasted herself, and her orgasm came on her like a derailing freight train. It was the strongest orgasm she'd ever experienced. Her scream of ecstasy was interrupted by a yelp of pain as she involuntarily bit down on her fingers. The laptop fell to the floor and started beeping, with one of the keys stuck down.

Catching her breath, she retrieved the laptop and turned it off. She lay on the bed thinking about her life. She was in a rut and becoming increasingly frustrated as the years rolled by. She needed to change things. Ten years ago, when the financial pressures of raising children peaked, she'd gotten a job at a bookshop. Harry, her husband, worked as a bar manager, the only job he'd ever had. The term 'Manager' might be taken to mean he was well paid. This was not the case. His earnings were average, and they had struggled with the expense of raising three children. School fees, uniforms, sports gear, and the mortgage forced Rhonda to find a job as soon as their youngest was able to be left in the care of the two older siblings.

They lived in Morrinsville, a small town supplying the farms of the Hauraki plains. She got a job in a bookshop on the main street. The job was a massive change from being stuck at home with a young family. She remembered the early thrill of meeting new people every day. She'd bought new clothes with her first two wage packets, making Harry jealous. He'd accused her of dressing up for other men. Chance would be a fine thing. But over the last ten years, long hours and minimum wages, her enthusiasm for the job had waned. The work was far from what she imagined when leaving school. Then, she dreamed of becoming a personal assistant to some high-flying Auckland executive who would whisk her away on overseas trips.

Her youngest, Ian, had gone flatting with some mates seven months earlier. Harry started work at midday and seldom got home before midnight. Their paths rarely crossed these days, as her hours were 9:00 to 5:00, Tuesday to Saturday. So the only time they had to themselves was Sunday. Far too often these days, she found Harry doing things with his mates on Sundays, and she would meet with their wives. Rhonda was thirty-nine and felt like her life was slipping away without her doing or achieving anything of note.

Slipping from her daydream, Rhonda slid out of bed. She opened the windows to rid the room of the pungent smell of sex. It was only 9:30 pm, so Harry wouldn't be home for another two hours at the earliest. She wondered about staying up and trying to entice him into having sex when he got home. But he'd been too tired the last few times Rhonda had tried and got grumpy with her. Also, he sometimes arrived much later, so she didn't fancy waiting up only to find him sneaking in long after midnight. She wondered if he was messing around with someone from the Pub. But apart from those odd late nights, she'd seen no evidence of his playing around. Unless his lack of interest in sex these days was an obvious sign? Rhonda did wonder why she was not upset by the thought that he may have another woman. A few years earlier, that thought would have messed with her head. But now she felt nothing more than a minor irritation at such thoughts, more to do with the fact he may be getting the sex that she wasn't.

She showered and got herself ready for bed. Tomorrow was Saturday and was her busiest day, so she needed to get some shuteye. But sleep wouldn't come, and she lay awake for the next hour or more thinking about her boring life. She'd been a good girl until she'd met Harry. He'd been worldly-wise and worked in a pub, such a sinful, exciting place for a young, innocent girl from a sheltered upbringing. And she'd succumbed to his charms way too quickly. She regretted that now. She'd never experienced any of the things she'd been reading about this last year. She'd never had anyone lick her pussy. She'd never been fucked in the ass, or for that matter, not even had another man see her naked. Many of these experiences were of her own choice. Harry had tried to get her to experiment, but her upbringing would not let her comply. Rhonda fell asleep, wondering if she'd ever experienced any of the filthy things she read about and now wished she had done.

----

Rhonda woke early. Harry was lightly snoring beside her. She hadn't heard him arrive home. She knew he didn't wake up easily. Still, she quietly eased herself from the bed, grabbed the clothes she would wear to work that day, and headed to the bathroom to dress. He was still asleep when she left just after 8:00, so she figured he must have gotten home late.

It was only a five-minute drive to the shop, but after the previous night's story and her fantastic climax, Rhonda wondered who she might see that day. She'd been eyeing some male customers and picturing them doing unthinkable things lately. It helped the day pass more quickly. Luckily, the bookshop owner, Grayson, was in his mid-seventies and never seemed to notice her blushing retreats to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face after serving some of her more eligible customers.

The morning was quiet, but one of her regulars walked into the shop just after midday. Doug McKenzie came in twice a month to collect his magazines. Even though he was handsome, he was a bit older, so she'd never given him much thought. But today, her body tingled as he approached, and taking in his rugged good looks, she imagined herself wrapped in his arms. She threw him a smile and, feeling herself beginning to colour up, she turned away quickly, pretending to search the racks for his order.

There was nothing there. She knew there wouldn't be, as he'd collected his magazines the previous Saturday. When she turned back to inform him that there was nothing, she saw he was holding out a card to her.

"I'm wondering if I can place this in your window. I need to employ a woman to work on the farm."

"Of course," stammered Rhonda. "It's five dollars for the first week and two dollars for any following weeks."

Rhonda looked at the card. Doug stuck his hand in his pocket for his wallet. The card read that he wanted a woman for light work at Stirling Station. The woman must be in good health and physically sound, as the work is physical and involves some lifting. The address was out by the Kaimai Ranges, and Doug's name and mobile number were typed below the message.

Rhonda looked around to see if Grayson was still out back and asked, "What does the work involve? I could be interested."

Doug looked at her, "I don't think it would be for you. You're much too cultivated to be mucking out and working on a farm." Then, seeing her disappointed look, he stammered out. "Look. You're a fine-looking woman, but do you know how messy and smelly a farm can be? Also, I have a couple of boys working for me, and the language is often pretty rough."

Rhonda had dreamed about leaving the bookshop, but until this minute, it had been nothing but a hopeless desire. She had no idea what she would be qualified to do. She had been at the top of her class in high school and was destined to go to university. But getting pregnant had quashed that dream. So this looked like the opportunity of her lifetime. She loved animals and was not afraid of hard work.

She stood up straight and stared into his eyes. "I'm not afraid of hard work, and the smells can't be worse than the multitude of nappies I've changed. I need to get out of this shop. It's boring me to tears. Could I come and see what the job involves?"

Looking uncertain, Doug asked, "What day can you come?"

"Monday would be good. I don't work on Mondays."

"Alright, Monday it is then. Do you have any gumboots? I have some that might fit if you don't. And wear older clothes. Nothing like the pretty dress you're wearing. Although there should be some overalls in the barn, you could use to protect your clothes."

"What will I be doing?"

A man of few words, Doug had already said more than Jenny had ever heard from him. He looked to be deciding what to say. Then his shoulders slumped in resignation, and he opened up, "My wife has left me. She ran the roadside stall. I'd close it down, but I've had customers complaining, so I figure if I got a woman to stock it and help with the chooks, etc., I could keep the Stall running."

Rhonda realised she had visited the Stall once. It was on the road from Te Aroha to Paeroa, and she had bought some eggs there some months back. She had meant to call in again for eggs and veggies but had never returned.

"I know where you are. I've bought eggs from you in the past. What time should I come?"

Can you leave it until after lunch? I'll be out moving stock all morning."

Doug went to hand her the $5.00, but Rhonda waved it away. "I'll place the advert in the window if I'm uninterested. I don't want someone else to get the job ahead of me," she grinned, sliding the card into her pocket.

The rest of the afternoon flew by. Rhonda was so excited. She had not asked about hours and wages, but she wasn't too worried, as they didn't really need her to work now that the kids had left the roost. She didn't say a thing to Grayson and decided that she wouldn't mention anything to Harry about the job until she'd been out to the farm, as she knew he wouldn't approve.

After an early lunch on Monday, Rhonda was glad to get on the road. She'd dressed in Jeans and her oldest jumper but had spent some time on her makeup. It seemed stupid to make herself up to work on a farm, but she wanted to make a good impression. It took her just over thirty minutes to get to Stirling Station. She glanced at the Veggie Stall as she turned into the drive. It had a few veggies and trays of eggs on the shelves.

She parked in front of the house, wondering where to go. Off to the left, a large dog came barking from the barn. She loved dogs and was not concerned about climbing out to greet it. However, once the dog got closer, she saw it was a huge cattle dog that looked daunting. Doug appeared from behind a horse he'd been rubbing down, let out a piercing whistle, and yelled, "Sit, Mac." The dog dropped to its haunches, tail wagging furiously.

"Hi! That was good timing. I've not long gotten back from the hills. I have to put Betty out in the field, then I'll be right with you."

Rhonda gasped as Mac stepped between them and shoved his muzzle into her crotch.

"Cut that out, Mac. He likes you; that's a good sign," he laughed.

Rhonda followed him to the horse, and Doug handed her the lead. Then he strode ahead to open the gate. She fought to hold back her panic. It was the first horse she'd ever touched. But the big mare just nuzzled her shoulder and snorted and let Rhonda lead her to the field, seemingly satisfied with what she had smelled

.

"You're good around horses. Have you ridden much?"

"I've never touched one before. I wanted a pony when I was younger, but my family never had the money."

"We'll have to teach you to ride then." Doug turned and strode towards the house. Rhonda followed and sped up to walk beside him. Doug asked if she'd had lunch. She told him she had, and he asked if she minded waiting while he made something for himself.

"You can ask me questions while I cook."

Rhonda sat in the kitchen for the next thirty minutes and watched Doug fried eggs, sausages, and bacon. She asked him what hours he wanted her to work and what wages he would offer.

"You can work what hours you need to, but I think five days and five hours a day. If you could work Saturdays, that would be great, as that is the busiest day. $20.00 per hour is the going rate these days, and you can fill your car up on the Station's account to cover your petrol. One of your main jobs will be looking after the chooks. They're messy, smelly little fuckers, but their eggs are the main money earner at the Stall."

He suddenly snapped his head around and apologised for his language. "Shit, I'm sorry, I've never had a posh beauty like you in the house before."

"What about your wife? Did you not have to mind your language in front of her?"

"Shirley! Your joking. She could swear worse than me."

"I'm not really that posh. I won't get upset by a little rough language as long as it's not directed at me." She blushed beetroot red as she said this, but Doug had turned back to the stove and didn't notice. The fact was, she got quite turned on by stories that had men calling the women all sorts of unthinkable names.

As she went to change the subject, Doug whispered, "I'll attempt to tone my language down. Then, louder. Now, where were we? Oh, you're welcome to take some eggs and veggies from the Stall. We always seem to have stuff that doesn't get sold. I hate to see it go to waste."

Rhonda had to clamp her eyes closed and bite her bottom lip, or she would have let out an embarrassing guffaw of joy. He was offering $7.00/hour better than what she earned in the bookstore. Plus fewer hours, free petrol and veggies. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hug him to death.

After he had eaten, Doug led her out the back door and showed her the veggie patches. There were four large cultivated areas. One was sweetcorn, only about a foot high, but she was unsure about the other patches.

"That's potatoes," Doug said. Then, pointing to the largest patch that looked freshly turned, "The boys and I ran the backhoe through that last weekend and planted kumara. You know, sweet potato. The potatoes, kumara and corn should all be ready in early December."

"Our three big sellers are the eggs, new potatoes at Christmas, and sweetcorn. Shirley kept the garden, and those other two patches are carrots, cabbages, silverbeet, etc., but they might be a bit much for you. Let's go look at the chooks."

As Rhonda walked alongside him, she explained that she'd never done much gardening but had always wanted to. So, I may need to ask a lot of questions at first. Is that a problem?"

"No, it's not very busy at present, so I can give you some time next week. I just need to go up into the high country now and again to check on the boys. They mostly mend fences and stay at the shearing shed this time of year. The boys will be down on Friday to go chase fillies in town. So if you are around, you'll meet them then."

"Do you have children?" Rhonda asked.

"Yes. A boy and two girls. The girls never got on with their mother and cleared off as soon as they left school. Lizzy is married to a farmer down in Whakatane. Susan is married to a guy who owns an orchard near Te Puke, and Michael works in Hamilton at the Ruakura Research Centre. He's doing research into new pastures. I see a lot more of him than I do the girls. Although that may change now that Shirley has cleared off."

"What about you?" Doug asked.

"We have three as well. Our oldest is also called Michael. He's working for an Electrician in Morrinsville. Gemma is at the University in Auckland. She has all the brains, and Ian, the youngest, has just started a plumbing apprenticeship and is flatting over in Tauranga."

"Don't put yourself down. You're intelligent. I've watched you toting up numbers and giving change in the bookshop without even looking at a calculator. Not something I'm good at. Also, I heard you do the books for Grayson. Is that right?"

"I do. That is the most enjoyable part of my job these days."

"Might ask you to look at mine then, as paperwork is not my forte. Shirley handled all that."

They wandered to a large building next to the barn, where lots of machinery was parked. Doug directed her to what looked like a Golf Cart. It was a Ranger farm vehicle with a tray at the back.

"This is yours. You can load it up and take stuff down to the Stall." He showed her how to start it and let her drive him behind the barn. She parked beside a long shed that opened onto the field next to the one where the horses roamed. There were more chickens in the field than she had ever seen in one place before.

"I think we have more than fifty at present. They spent the next hour raking up old hay, distributing feed and collecting eggs from the chook house. The hay went onto a pile, which Doug explained was spread around the garden, and the veggies rocketed out of the ground to escape the smell. Once they had cleaned up, they loaded the trays of eggs onto the back of the farm buggy and drove down to the roadside stall.

They emptied the Honesty Box. There was $47.00. Doug explained that that was three days' worth, which he thought was pretty good for this time of year. Then he mumbled something about Shirley having been milking the cash. Rhonda asked him what he meant, and he replied that in the last month, the returns had been better than she had been showing him, so at a rough estimate, he thought she must have been sticking half the cash in her own pocket.