Thursday, January 15, 2009

Erotic Lesbian Stories by Sage Sweetwater (Stooking Maris Widgeon)



MARIS WIDGEON - Long stemmed hollow robust winter wheat grown extensively for thatching.

(Stooking Maris Widgeon)...

Maris parked her two-team horse wagon at the edge of her 200 acres, planted one-half in Maris Widgeon and one-fourth rye grass and clover, and one-fourth turnips. She took the farming papers, experimented with what was printed in them.

Maris cut the wheat with her sickle, very labor intensive. She kept a sharpening stone handy, as the wheat stalks blunted the scythe, so she stopped occasionally to sharpen her sickle.

She stooked the first row of wheat, eight sheaves to each stook, binding and tying them with baling twine, She propped the stooks up so they would get plenty of wind and sun to dry out. She made sure the stooks pointed north and south so the sun could get both sides of the stook. When setting the stooks up, Maris insisted on putting the two flat sides together, and giving the sheaves a flop down and let the pair of sheaves stand up by themselves so the sun and wind could get into the middle. She stopped to sharpen her sickle, hearing a woman's voice close by from the dirt road. "Hea, let me do rosemaling on your wagon?"

Maris looked around and saw a gorgeous woman to be about in her thirties, dressed in white painter's bib overalls. She had long, dark hair and she was wearing a black cowgirl hat. "Your sheaves need to dry out, it'd give me time for rosemaling your wagon," the woman said.

"What is rosemaling? I'm stooking Maris Widgeon, what I know about," Maris said.

"Is that sexual?" the woman asked, "new term for it?"

"In olden times, four seeds were planted in one hole. Goes somehow like this. One for the rock and one for the crow, one to rot and one to grow," Maris said. She kept on stooking the sheaves, letting her eyes wander on the woman's crotch.

"Name's Steinn, as in rock, runic form. I travel the countryside doing rosemaling, the Norwegian art of roses painted on churches, wagons, and tins. I say again, your sheaves need to dry out, give me time for rosemaling the sides of your wagon. What do I call you?"

"Maris, stooking Maris Widgeon," Maris replied. "Well then let's drive this wagon over to the barn, Steinn. Climb on."

"Drive on over to my truck and I'll grab my trunk, paint and brushes, Maris, stooking Maris Widgeon."

They pulled up into the barn, eight bays, ten yards long, and five yards wide, and a good height for stooking Maris Widgeon. "Whoa!" Maris stopped her team. "Let me unhitch my team and you can get started. What's this going to cost me?" Maris asked, raising her eyebrows.

"We'll see, Maris, stooking Maris Widgeon," Steinn traveled from county to county for merely room and board in exchange for rosemaling. She carried all of her belongings with her in a rosemaled trunk. She was ready today to try another form of commission for her folk art. Steinn looked around the barn for personal inspiration to apply the rosemaling to Maris's wagon. "What are these lovely wheat figures?" Steinn asked. These wheat ornaments were lying all around in baskets, some even hanging from ceiling sacks.

"They are thatched roof ornaments I make to put on the roof, hayricks and strawstacks. Cockerels, birds, foxes, pheasants, lambs, crosses, mells, churns, you name it, I've made it. The farmers buy them to attach to the ash pole at the gable of their corn rick. They call them straw dollies. Shows who owns the stack."

"Yea, I've seen them around - weather vanes spinning in the breeze," Steinn said. She pulled out a bottle of whiskey. "I just saw one of these dollies at the cider stand down the road, you make it?" she asked, handing Maris the whiskey.

"Yea, the fox thatch ornament keeps away the birds who pick at the apples in the orchard," Maris said. She took a nip. "Good cider!"

"Which one keeps away the birds who pick at your patch?" Steinn winked. She was using C and S strokes in her rosemaling design on the wagon, featuring scrolls and flowing lines with floral designs in a deep red color.

"Oh Steinn, there is no finer sight than to see a newly thatched rosemaler!" Maris took the brush from Steinn's hand, pushed her back against the wagon and kissed her hard, tongue's touching. "It's what you want for commission, isn't it?" She pushed her tongue to the back of Steinn's throat. Hearing Steinn moan was worth every salivating inch of it!

Steinn pulled Maris down in the straw in the first bay. She undid Maris's silver wheat sheaf belt bucket and slipped her hand inside Maris's jeans. She felt a wetness she had never felt before as she stooked Maris Widgeon. She finger fucked Maris with two fingers inside her. "One for the rock, one for the crow," Steinn whispered, going down. She licked Maris Widgeon in the ‘milky’ stage. She ate Maris's pussy, opening her sheave, leaving her hard stook standing, encouraging the growth of her clit to become even harder. Steinn saw that Maris's clit tapered, at the head (tip) end and larger at the node (butt) end. She sucked Maris's clit, requiring a long soaking time. Maris sprouted and began to smell! "Cash crop!" Maris cried.

Because working the straw for the wheat dolly had to be soaked sufficiently to render it pliable, Maris bent the cockerel in Steinn's buttend, puckered, roughly planting and sowing Steinn's orgasm. As reaper and binder in action, she fucked Steinn's ass with the cockerel thatched ornament, while eating her pussy, witnessing a return to the use of planting locally produced wheat.

"Stooking Maris Widgeon!" Steinn screamed. "Fuck my ass! Cock dolly!"

Maris took Steinn inside her home. Sheaves need to dry out. She stood Steinn upright for a couple of minutes and wrapped her up in the Amish quilt. And then into the night, they stooked Maris Widgeon in the scissor position, both of their clits touching one another, their legs entwined, rubbing clit to clit, "Crying the Neck." Harvest hymn sung out in orgasm, lustily, "Plough the Fields and Scatter".

It is unusual to see many old wheat dollies because it is common practice to break up the one from the previous year and sow the grains in the spring with the new planting.

They hitched up the team and drove the wagon with fresh rosemaling out to the field three weeks later to collect the dried out sheaves. Stooking Maris Widgeon, folk arts into the art of lesbian fucking, thatching and rosemaling...

Copyright 1/13/2009 Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist, unrivaled, bringing you the upper tier in lesbian erotica
http://www.authorsden.com/sagesweetwater