NOTE: This is a romance story. Plus as I try to do occasionally you may learn something about America.

Cranberry Bog

One of my mother’s friends arranged for me to go to Cape Cod, Massachusetts to work for the summer. It didn’t pay much but mom insisted that it would be good for me. She said that it would teach me to become a better person. So just having turned sixteen years old I was off. The bus trip took close to twelve hours and was just about the most boring thing that had ever happened to me.

Gretchen met me at the bus stop. She was there to pick me up. I wasn’t hard to find since I was the only one to get off that bus. In fact I was the only one left on that bus except for the driver. I was almost as far out onto Cape Cod as I could possible get.

Gretchen was simply beautiful. She stood up tall, she had a thin figure, and she had a killer smile. Gretchen was wearing the tightest pair of blue jeans that I had ever seen and she was wearing a T-shirt that said, “Cranberry Bog.”

She helped me get my stuff into the back of her pickup and then drove me to her farm. For some reason I had expected to be working for a man. Gretchen showed me to my bedroom, helped me get settled in, and then took me down to get something to eat. After our late dinner we went out onto the porch. Gretchen handed me a glass of Cranberry Wine and then started to tell me all about cranberries.

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Cranberries are one of the few food crops that are native to New England or specifically Cape Cod. They grow in acid bogs. A bog is a water logged depression filled with peat moss, and is so acid and poor in available nitrogen that typical plants cannot grow there.

The cranberry plant is a long-lived perennial less than eight inches high with trailing, thin, wiry stems. Cranberry flowers first appear around the Fourth of July. The red cranberry fruit is a true berry.

Native Americans (Indians) used cranberries to dye fabric, and made medicines from them. The pilgrims had cranberries on their 1621 Thanksgiving table along with squash, corn bread, and wild turkey.

New England sailors sometimes took cranberries onboard ships to prevent scurvy because, as it turned out, cranberries are rich in vitamin C.

In 1816 successful cultivation of cranberries was finally achieved. The fields now produce up to 20,000 pounds of berries per acre per year, year after year without any major maintenance.

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Since I was starting to dose off Gretchen sent me up to my bedroom.

At seven o’clock in the morning I was rudely awakened by Gretchen shaking me. She was way too energetic for me. I’m just not a morning person at all. Apparently I was not moving quickly enough for Gretchen so she ripped the covers off my bed exposing my naked body to her view. I always sleep in the nude…and I always wake up with a hard-on too.

Gretchen smiled at my, giggled sweetly, and said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I sleep nude too. If you ever get up before me feel free to pay me back.” Then she smiled again, looked at my erection, and started for the door. Then she stopped, turned toward me, and pointed at my cock as she said, “If you want to take care of that, I’ll be down in the kitchen starting breakfast.”

Needless to say I couldn’t jerk off after that. I jumped out of bed, got dressed, and went into the bathroom. I peed, washed my face, and combed my hair before going down to the kitchen and facing Gretchen.

She looked just the same as she had the night before in her tight jeans and her T-shirt. Her hair was back in a ponytail and she looked absolutely beautiful. As I looked at her I couldn’t help but blush. I could feel the heat radiate in my face and that just made it even worse. Gretchen looked at me and started to apologize. Then she smiled at me, lifted her T-shirt up over her head, and tossed it across the kitchen. She was braless which I had expected and she had the nicest set of breasts that I had ever seen. The truth be know they were also the only set of breasts that I had ever seen. They were little, just a small handful, and there was no droop at all to them. My mother’s breasts are a lot bigger and they certainly droop. As dad always says, gravity works. He also says that more than a mouthful is a waste. Gretchen’s areolas were a nice shade of pink and her nipples stood out proudly.

Finally Gretchen said, “I saw you naked so it’s only fair that you get to see me. Is this enough or do you want to see my pussy too?”

I know that I must have stuttered as I answered her. “No! I mean yes. I mean. Oh God! Yes it’s enough and no I don’t want to see your pussy. Well! Yes I do want to see your pussy. Just not now. Oh crap!”

Gretchen just smiled at me and walked right up to me. She pressed her hard nipples into my chest, gave me a big hug, and then I got a kiss on the cheek. Shortly Gretchen went back to work and put the food on the table. She did not even bother put her T-shirt back on.

After we had eaten Gretchen put the dishes in the dishwasher and then she took me outside. She still hadn’t bothered to put her T-shirt back on. She was topless as we headed out to work.

As Gretchen showed me some of her land she explained to me that she was twenty-one years old now and that she was finally in charge of her own estate. Her land had been handed down from generation to generation for over a hundred and fifty years. Her original ancestor had purchased the land for a dollar an acre and it was currently accessed at over five thousand dollars an acre. Her parents had been killed when she was five and she had been raised by her grandparents. Her grandmother had died a few years ago and then her grandfather had died two years ago. Since Gretchen was not twenty-one at the time her land had gone into some sort of protective custody. But now things were different. She was in control.

Gretchen also explained that most of the time she was either topless or completely nude as she worked. It seems that she was always getting wet or muddy and that she cleaned up easier than her clothes did. I sure liked the topless look that’s for sure. When I took off my shirt and tucked it in my back pocket she just smiled at me. We walked hand in hand checking on the various bogs. She explained what to do and gave me quite an education.

Then we came to a pond that was covered in red cranberries. Gretchen explained that the water method was the best way to harvest the cranberries. The plants were so small that you would step on them if you tried to pick them by hand. However the water method allowed you to flood the bog and watch as the ripe berries floated to the surface. I helped Gretchen put a flat-bottom boat in the water. We put several containers in the boat and then we climbed in. We didn’t go out very far at all before we started scooping up the cranberries with fishnets and dumping them into the containers. When we filled all of the containers we rowed back into shore. Together we lifted the heavy containers up onto a flatbed wagon that was attached to an old tractor.

It took us all morning but we managed to fill that flatbed with containers and almost emptied that bog. Then Gretchen told me that she had another hundred and seventy-nine bogs to go. She also said that this one was about average in size. I couldn’t imagine what a bigger one looked like.

We took the cranberries back to the barn and then went in for lunch. Watching Gretchen run around topless was starting to seem normal. When she squatted down to get something out of the bottom of the cabinet I could see where her tan line left off. She must really go topless a lot. I was impressed at how casual she was about it. My mother would never let me catch her topless in a million years. I don’t even think that she would let dad catch her running around topless either.

After lunch we finished off that bog and went on to the next one. Gretchen had a system for draining one bog and filling another one so I let her do all of that stuff. Then at dinnertime we took the next batch back to the barn and then went in to eat.

After dinner we went back out to the barn. This time we dumped the containers on a conveyer belt and watched then disappear up into some huge stainless steel bin. Gretchen pushed some buttons and the machinery started up. It was then time to quit working.

Gretchen said that it was also time to go into the Jacuzzi and relax. She invited me to join her but said that there were no clothes permitted in the water. Then in a nice teasing way she removed her tight blue jeans and tossed them on the couch. I noticed that she hadn’t been wearing any panties either and that she did have a darker tan on her top half. Gretchen giggled and then ran outside. I undressed quickly and followed her. She was already in the water and watching me as I ran toward her. When I was in the hot water and seated she handed me a glass of cranberry wine. We toasted the day and took a sip. When I saw the bottle I then realized that the cranberries were used to make wine. Gretchen confirmed that about twenty percent of her crop went into making wine and that the rest became cranberry juice. In her grandfather’s old age he had streamlined the operation until it was almost a one-person business. Almost!

Gretchen said, “I like to watch your rabbit wiggle when you run.”

I just said, “My rabbit?”

Gretchen smiled and said, “That’s what grandma and grandpa always called it.”

It was my turn to smile and ask, “Then what do you call your pussy?”

Gretchen stood up so that I could see her pussy. She sat back on the edge of her Jacuzzi and opened her legs up wide for me too. She had a full bush on the top and the bottom was shaved clean. I could see her slit but the lips were pushed shut.

Gretchen slipped a finger down into her slit and said, “Well I call this my pussy like you do. Grandma called hers a ‘rabbit hole’ because grandpa called his cock a ‘rabbit.’ She always said that they fucked like bunnies whenever they could.” Then Gretchen laughed and sat back down in the water.

Soon I could feel her foot slipping between my legs until it rested up against my balls. I reached out my foot but her legs were longer than mine were and I couldn’t reach her crotch. Gretchen must have realized what I was trying to do because she bent her knee and slid her pussy right up against my foot. Wow! She didn’t even mind when I tried to poke my big toe into her hole because she was trying to jerk me off with her foot. When the bottle of wine was empty Gretchen said that it was time to go to bed and she got out. When I got out Gretchen looked at my cock and just smiled at me again.

For the rest of that week we stayed completely naked all of the time. We got up, worked, and ate naked. We sat in the hot water, drank wine, and went to bed naked.

Then one night during our second week together Gretchen took my hand and led me to her bedroom. She climbed in bed pulling me in behind her. She knew that I was a virgin from our conversations and she also knew that I wanted to loose it with her. She had been teasing me all day long too. She made it quite clear that foreplay was not necessary but that she would teach me all about it in the near future. So as Gretchen opened up her knees and pulled me into her she also slipped the head of my cock into her pussy. Then without flinching at all she hugged me to her breasts and impaled herself with me. Then Gretchen kissed me, and kissed me, and kissed me some more. Soon she was thrusting up at me and I was thrusting down into her. We were actually making love and it felt so incredibly good that I couldn’t even speak. Soon I felt that familiar stirring in my loins and then I felt the sperm start to flow up my cock and shoot out into Gretchen’s pussy. It was a great feeling. I had been jerking off to images of her since the day I had arrived, especially after seeing her naked.

Gretchen would not let me pull my cock out of her. She had her legs wrapped around my waist and she was kissing me very passionately. She was French kissing me. Her tongue tasted sweet. She was rubbing my back and my ass too. Soon I felt my cock growing again and it was still inside her. We made love again, and again she held me in her but it didn’t matter. I was too tired to get it up a third time in a row. Gretchen let me fall asleep in her embrace.

The next morning I woke up with a hard-on as usual. Now for a math question…how many times does sixteen go into twenty-one…just as often as he can…starting that morning.

After that day we never got dressed again and we made love every time that I could get it up, no matter where we were. Gretchen helped me get it up just as often as she could too. She taught me everything that I would ever need to know about kissing, foreplay, and satisfying a real woman. She taught me several sexual positions. She also let me fuck her in all three of her holes.

Then one day the summer was over, we had to finally get dressed, and Gretchen drove me down to the bus stop so that I could go home and get back to the new school year. I missed Gretchen like crazy until Peggy came along. I asked Peggy out on a date and she accepted my kind invitation. It wasn’t easy to get into her pants but when I finally did I ignited a raging fire within her. I taught her everything that I knew about sex. Everything! We went steady until we graduated from high school. We were engaged to be married throughout the two years that we attended the local Community College. We were married after our college graduation and Gretchen invited us out to Cape Cod for rest of that summer. It was so good that we never left again.

The End
Cranberry Bog
143

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