Future Farmer's Wife

Future Farmer's Wife. Summer loving, working on the farm. Based on a post by Farmer jill. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. When I was a young girl, every summer was an adventure. The farms around Stearns County, where I lived; would need extra help to cut, bail; and store up the hay for the long snowy winter. Everyone did small square bales back then, and that meant manual labor. The thing was that although the job paid great, it was not a regular job. The hours were always subject to change, with the weather, break downs, or hay production. You had little notice when you were needed, and then it was only for a few days. Farm kids also had to work on our own family farms; so you had to work it around that. Yet since every farmer needed the extra help it was like all the kids were a labor pool to be exploited. I liked working the hay harvests, because it allowed me to have spending money. Sure I was "paid" working for my dad but farming is a long term paying type of job. I didn't get actually paid for my labor but in the winter I would get money to go to the movies and the like. It was the summer of 81. I just turned 18 and the hay season started. The first job I heard about was at the Wilson Dairy Farm. I had worked for the Wilson's before. I showed up at 7am, on the appointed day, and there were four other people. The Wilson's only really need four laborers but you never knew what kind of quality you would get so the first day most farmers would have extras. Then at lunch they would get rid of the lazy, slow or stupid. In addition to myself, there were the Hanson brothers, Bill and Ted. I had worked with them before. They worked hard and usually worked the conveyor. In case you don't know; the conveyor is what gets the bales from the wagon up into the hay loft. It was a tricky job. You couldn't overload it, because it would jam. You also couldn't go to fast because the people unloading would get overwhelmed. There was also a guy I didn't know. He must have been new in our area. I was pretty sure he wouldn't make the cut. His hands had no calluses on them, dead give away. The last person in the group was none other than Cooper Banks, my high school crush. We were both the youngest in our families, and the only kids still living at home. We were both in the high school FFA club, Future Farmers of America, But he quit the club when he became a starter on the wrestling team. He was a year older than me and had just graduated. I'm sure that he didn't even know I existed before today. He was pretty popular at school and never lacked for female attention. Cooper was born on a farm on a different bus route from me, so I never had a chance to be noticed by him. Yet here he was, in the flesh. The Hay Harvest Operation. The way haying worked most times is; you went out with a wagon and while the farmer drove, you loaded the wagon. One person on the wagon, and a couple passing bales up. Other times the bales were formed, tied, and delivered to the wagon and then you stacked them on the wagon. In this case it was both types. Mr. Wilson was baling onto one wagon while the new guy stacked. Meanwhile us four took turns driving and loading/stacking another wagon. Once we had some wagons loaded, people would then work on loading the hay into the barn, hayloft, through an upper door under the gable; while others collected more hay. The farmers kept big coolers of cold water on hand, to hydrate the workers, and we often poured water over our sweaty bodies, to get relief from the humid air. Halfway through the day, our clothes were soaked. At lunch time, as I suspected, the new guy was let go. Blisters developed on his hands, because he didn't bring work gloves; so he was done. This left Bill loading the conveyor, and Cooper and I stacking the hay now in the barn's upper loft. Ted continued stacking bales on the wagon that Mr. Wilson was towing behind his bailor. It's hard work, but you are so busy, that it goes fast. Soon enough, the day was over and Mr. Wilson paid us. Then he asked us to be back tomorrow. That's another good thing, cash at the end of the day. We all said we would be back tomorrow, and went to leave. I ended up walking beside Cooper, and I was desperate to think of something to say to him. He was wearing a Van Halen concert t-shirt, so I asked him about it, "Cooper, that's a nice shirt. Did you like the concert?" "Oh yeah, those guys were great, I'd go see them again. You have a pretty nice shirt on, too." Now I was wearing the usual kind of t-shirt for this work. Mine was Long sleeves to protect my arms and it was well-worn. It was sorta too small for me, because it was pretty tight across the chest. I was pretty proud of my boobs that had kept developing over the past year. My tits were high on my chest, and especially firm, and jiggled a lot. I'm sure Cooper liked what was inside my shirt. Last winter, my past boyfriend said my tits were the perfect size, just more than a hand full. ...