Forbidden Fruit: Volume 1 (2 page)

One year later

Tray

“Oh, oh, oh….FUCK!” The little redhead screamed as I pounded her tight pussy with all I had.  My cock was rubbing her in all the right ways, and I was so damn close to shooting my load inside her.  That’s when I realized something - this was fucking boring.  Yeah, it felt good.  I’m a guy, I ain’t gonna lie. But it was the same old, same old.  I lick her pussy, she comes.  She sucks my cock, I come. I slam my cock into her pussy, we come.  Same old, same old.

This chick was seriously starting to piss me off with all the porn star moaning.  She was kinky as hell and I knew she liked to be choked a little, so I wrapped my hand around her neck and squeezed gently.  Choking always equaled an instant orgasm for her. She came hard and I slammed my cock in a couple more times and came right behind her.

Done.

Moving on.

Get your damn clothes on and get out.

Well, that’s what I wanted to say, but my mom raised me better than that.  Lying down beside her where we were face to face, I smiled and whispered, “Gets better every time, Red.”

She moaned, “Mmmm…” and snuggled her nose into my chest.

A quick nap and then off to class.  That’s what I needed and that’s what I was going to get.

“Get the hell out of bed, you lazy ass!” Jason screamed, pounding his fist into the door of my apartment.

Red was gone, but she was nice enough to leave me a little souvenir - her bright pink thong was hanging on my headboard.  I had to say one thing for her, she was a funny chick.

“Hold your fucking horses, dude.  I’m coming!” I climbed out of bed and pulled on my jeans - commando.

When I got to the door, I unlocked it and Jason came barging in.

“What the hell is your problem, man?”

“I need to ask a favor.  It’s serious,” he asked, looking like he was worried sick.

“Sure, what’s going on?” I asked.

“You remember my stepmom, right?”

I hated to admit it, but how the hell could I forget her?  That chick was hot as hell, even when she was on the ground having a freak out over the death of her husband.  That made me sound like a sick fucker, but damn if it wasn’t true.  She was hot.

“Yeah, sure, I remember her. What’s going on?”

Jason was pacing in front of the bed. “She called and she’s having some problems with the farm.  She’s never handled a business like this and some of it is overwhelming to her.  She asked me to come and stay with her for the summer and help her out, but I really need to be here. If I don’t take those classes this summer, next year is gonna be hell for me.  I have to get caught up. And you know Zoe and me are getting pretty serious.  I don’t want to be away from her all summer.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I guess this is what happens when you decide to party your ass off your freshman year.”

After everything that happened before school started, Jason deserved to party this year.  That shows what a damn good guy Jason was.  We met our sophomore year of high school. He went to Duncan High and I went to Ash Valley High a few towns away.  If we hadn’t about beat the hell out of each other over Lily Sanders, we might not have become best friends.  We both liked her and we went to this party at her house.  We had this huge knock down drag out fight in the front yard over who was going to “claim” her when we got inside the house.  Before we could get inside to her, she came walking out with some huge dude who was apparently in college.  She didn’t want either one of us.  Who’d a thought I would’ve met my best friend in a fight over some stupid chick that neither one of us even got to first base with?

“All summer?  Like how long are we talking?” I asked.

“Six weeks, maybe? I guess it could turn out to be a little less.” He stopped pacing and ran his fingers through his hair again. “However long you could be there would help my ass out a lot.”

“I don’t know man.  Damn, that’s a long time,” I complained trying not to give in too easily.  Of course I would do it for Jason, but it wouldn’t hurt to let him sweat for a minute.  That guy had saved my ass on more than one occasion.  He’d kept me from getting the shit beat out of me when my mouth wouldn’t stop running at a party or two, and he used his uncanny math knowledge to help me coast through my business math course this year.  Shaking my head, I asked, “Six weeks?  Damn.”

“What’s it gonna take?” he asked.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I said with a grin.

Jason slapped me on the back and chuckled. “Dude, you know you owe me, but I’m willing to forget your many, many debts, and even owe you one if you’ll help me out here.”

Well how the hell could I turn that down?

“When do I need to be there?”

“Saturday?”

“Jason?  Today is Friday.  You know that right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Fine. I’ll go tomorrow.”

“I really can’t thank you enough, Tray.  Seriously, and while you’re there maybe you can help get AnaBelle out of her funk.”

Maybe, but who the hell was going to get me out of mine? I could usually hide it pretty well, but spending time in the country with the grieving widow wasn’t going to help me forget everything that went down when I was a kid.  It couldn’t take those memories away.  Nothing could.  Not the booze or the random sex with any girl in sight.  Nothing had worked so far. I guess it was time to give hard work in the country a chance, right?

Country Daze

Tray

“Hey, man.  I’m guessing you’re here to pick me up?” I asked the short balding man waiting at the gate with a sign that read, “Jason’s friend” in big black letters on it.

The little guy looked pretty damn irritated. “I don’t know,
man. 
Are you Jason’s friend?”

“Well, this is going to be awesome,” I mumbled under my breath. “Yeah, name’s Tray.” I stuck my hand out to shake his, but he didn’t reciprocate the gesture.

Turning his back to me he started outside. I’d just thrown some clothes in my old duffle bag, so I picked it up and ran out the door to catch up with Mr. Friendly. When I reached the old farm truck, he was already inside and had it started up. I threw my bag in the back and climbed in, slamming the door shut behind me.

The drive to the ranch was deadly quiet.  He never said a word and I didn’t either.  Why the hell should I?  No wonder Mrs. Mason was having a hard time with the farm.  If all of her employees were like this fucker, she didn’t stand a chance.

Not able to take it another second, I asked, “You gotta problem with me?”

Mr. Friendly slowly turned his head toward me, smirked at me, and then replied sarcastically, “Not at all, sir.  I’m just so darn happy to make your acquaintance.  I just can’t wait to get to know ya better.”

It was clear that this was going to be a fucking awesome summer…

As soon as we pulled up to the house, my friendly driver practically threw my ass out of the truck.  I felt weird going into the house with no one there, so I left my bag on the porch and headed out to where the action seemed to be happening.  There were people out by the barn. I could hear yelling. It sounded like a damn madhouse out there.

There were two young guys working outside of the barn.  I guess you could call it working; they seemed to be fighting with each other more than they were figuring out what needed to be done. They looked to be about my age, but they looked like damn weaklings.  I couldn’t figure out if they really worked on the ranch, or if they were just hear to look pretty.  Either way, it didn’t seem to be working for them.

Walking into the barn, I saw Mr. Friendly washing down a horse and scrubbing it with a big long handle brush.  As I walked past him, he mumbled, “Stupid fucker.”

Good times…making friends…good for me.

I saw at least three other guys doing various things around the barn.  They were feeding animals, washing them, and there was a younger girl putting a saddle on one of the horses.  As I was getting ready to leave the barn, I heard something coming from a room in the back.  I walked back there and saw the sign over the door that read, “Jefferson Mason – Owner”.  The door was opened just a crack, so I pushed it a little further and saw the saddest sight.  Mrs. Mason was sitting at the desk holding her head in her hands sobbing.

“What am I going to do? What in the hell am I supposed to do?  I don’t know the first thing about running a farm, Jeff.  I never did.” She wiped her eyes and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair.   “You knew this wasn’t for me. Why in the hell did you leave me with all of this mess?”

“What the hell are you doing?” Mr. Friendly asked, as he walked up behind me.

Mrs. Mason looked up when she heard him, and grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk and blew her nose loudly. “Were you watching me?” she asked.

“Uh, well.  I guess I was, Mrs. Mason.”

“Who the hell are you?” she asked gruffly.

“Tray.  Tray Thompson.  I’m Jason’s friend.  He asked me to come help you out for a bit this summer.”

She looked like she had no fucking clue what I was talking about.

“Didn’t he tell you I was coming?” I asked.

“I thought he was coming to help me.  He’s not coming is he?” She looked like she was about to freak out.  More tears were welling up in her eyes.

“He has a lot of irons in the fire and just couldn’t take the time to get here.  But I’m a hard worker and I owe Jason a lot.  I’m more than happy to step in for him.  I can help you out with whatever needs to be done, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? Great.” She seemed exasperated. “Come in and have a seat,” she said quietly. “Thanks Gabe. You can go now.”

Now I had a name for Mr. Friendly…Gabe. The name didn’t really fit him. Gabe seemed like a grandpa name, not an asshole name.  And he was most assuredly an asshole.

As he ushered past me, he rammed into my shoulder and said, “The two of you are two fucking peas in a pod. Good luck, boy.”

I pushed back and replied, “Fuck off,
Gabe
.”

Yep, this was gonna be a blast.  I wasn’t sure why I was feeling the hate from Gabe so strongly, but I figured he’d fill me in real soon.  Right now I was more worried about Jason’s stepmom.  She didn’t look the way I remembered her.  She looked beat down and her eyes were a little glassy.  Like maybe she was on something.  I knew she wasn’t a drug addict, but I wondered if she was still taking meds to help with the loss of Mr. Mason.

“At least I’m not the only one they hate,” Mrs. Mason said as she stood up and motioned for me to sit down in the chair in front of her desk. “I apologize for Gabe. He’s…well…he’s just an asshole.”

I laughed.  “Yeah, I kinda gathered that.”

“Jason didn’t want come home, did he?”

“No, he really did want to come help you out.  But he’s gotta take some summer classes and he’s wrapped so tight around Zoe’s finger, I don’t think he could stand being away from her that long.”

“Zoe?” She asked.

Oh shit…apparently Jason didn’t talk to his stepmom much.  “Uh, yeah.  Zoe.  She’s Jason’s girlfriend.  They’ve been dating since orientation.”

“I see. I had no idea he was getting serious with anyone.  Hell, I didn’t even know he was seeing anyone.  Of course I thought he was coming here to help me for the summer, so goes to show I don’t really know a lot about my stepson.”

“I’m sorry.  I really thought he told you I was coming and I had no idea you didn’t know about Zoe.  He can’t keep his mouth shut about her.  I figured you knew every detail.”

“He doesn’t really call me much anymore.  Since…well, since Jeff…since Jeff isn’t here anymore, he doesn’t really call much. I guess I can understand that.  It’s not like I’m his mom or anything.”

“He loves you a lot Mrs. Mason.  You know he doesn’t have any kind of relationship with his mom.  I’m sure he talks to you a lot more than he talks to her.”

She smiled. “You’re probably right about that, Mr. Thompson.”

“Please don’t call me that.  The name is Tray.”

“Okay, Tray.  Why don’t you call me AnaBelle?”

“Sounds good, Mrs. Mason,” I laughed.  “Now you wanna show me what I’m gonna be doing around here for the next few weeks?” I asked with a grin.

We spent the next few hours walking around the farm. AnaBelle introduced me to everyone.  The two guys who thought they were models for freaking Bass Pro Shops were actually twins, Mark and Matt.  They were pretty cool, but a little too into themselves for my liking. The other men who worked the farm were Davis, John, Allen, and Michael.  Of course I couldn’t leave out Mr. Friendly, or Gabe as his mother so inappropriately named him.  The girl I had seen earlier was eighteen and kept her horse “Dreamsicle” here in the barn.  Her name was Sarah and apparently she came by every afternoon to check on her horse and feed her.

When we finished up the tour and list of shit I was going to be doing all summer, Mrs. Mason took me inside and showed me around the house.  I’d been there for the funeral, but all I’d really seen was Jason’s room.  It was downstairs back behind the kitchen.  It was dark and dingy and had a small closet that his dad had put a toilet and sink in.  The only shower in the house was in the main bathroom at the top of the stairs.  The house had three bedrooms- two upstairs and Jason’s downstairs.

I threw my bag down on the bed and headed to the kitchen.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I just didn’t feel like cooking tonight,” she said, as she placed a frozen pizza in the oven for us.

“Hell no.  I’m a college student.  I survive on pizza and beer,” I stated with a smile as I sat down at the kitchen table.  There was a beer on the table, so I grabbed it, popped the cap off, and took a long pull.  It went down so smooth.

“What the hell?” she shrieked as she took the beer from my hands. “Excuse me, but I do believe you’re a minor.  Am I correct?” 

Even with that stern look on her face, Mrs. Mason was hot as fuck.  Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing short jean shorts and a little white tank top.  The tops of her tits were peeking out of the top.   She wasn’t wearing a drop of make-up, but she didn’t need it.  Her natural state was ten times better than half the skanks I’d fucked this year.

Unable to tear my eyes away from her glorious tits, I answered, “Well, technically.”

I could tell I was making her uncomfortable because she pulled her tank top up and covered her boobs.  Such a waste.  Then she took a slug of beer and burped.  Not a ladylike little burp.  Oh no.  This was a big ole belly belch.

Her pretty baby blue eyes met mine and we both broke out laughing.

“Not bad manners, just good beer,” I said.

“Yeah, my beer.  No beer for you, Mr. Minor.”

“Fine.  No beer for me, Mrs. Mason.”

“So tell me more about Jason and Zoe.  Is she good to him?  Are they happy?  Oh my god, are they going to get married?” She went on as she frantically worked around the kitchen. “He’s too young to get married.  Oh hell, no he isn’t.  He should just do it now.  Take your happiness where you can and when you can.”

Finally I got a word in edge wise. “I don’t think they have any plans to get married, but I could be wrong.  She treats him real good and they are disgustingly happy.  Makes me wanna puke every time I’m with them.”

She smiled and calmed down a little bit.  Sitting down across the table from me, she choked, “I just want him to be happy.  Jeff would want that.”

Reaching out I placed my hand over hers.  “He is happy, Mrs. Mason.  Jason is one of the best guys I know.  He’s gonna do big things with his life.”

She nodded and wiped a single tear from her cheek.  Just thinking about Mr. Mason made her cry.  Jason was right, she wasn’t taking this very well.  It probably didn’t help anything that the people who worked for her treated her like she was the biggest idiot in the world. It was clear from just her introducing me to people, that they didn’t seem to like her and they sure as hell didn’t respect her.   Especially, my good buddy Gabe.  He was the biggest asshole of them all, but they all seemed to treat her that way.  No matter what was going on with the farm she deserved better than that.

We sat there and didn’t really say a whole lot.  When the pizza was ready we scarfed it down and then Mrs. Mason told me she was gonna head up to bed.  Climbing into Jason’s old bed, I thought to myself,
“What in the hell have I gotten myself into?  A depressed widow, a bunch of assholes, hard fucking work and no beer all summer?  What the fuck?