How many years had she sneaked into the upper hayloft of the barn? Twenty? Yes, twenty! For twenty years she had used the hayloft as her sanctuary, her hideout, her dream catcher. On the walls she had posted pictures and stapled notes that revealed her dreams, so many of them unrealized. Too many dreams to count. At age 10 she became the family matriarch when her mother died, and she had to care for her younger brother and her father making those dreams seem like nothing more than wallpaper for the hayloft walls. Though she kept her dreams alive on the walls of that hayloft, Jodi wondered if they might never come true. She dreamt of the day her father and brother no longer needed her on the farm. What would a big city look like? Could I make it there? Maybe I will get married to someone who wears a suit every day.  Jodi imagined her life full of cityscape views and all the finest things money could buy. Now, at age 20, she was able to think more about moving on from the farm and the stifling, humid smell of straw in the barn.

In her fantasy, she went to the city and happened across a man, in a suit, at a coffee shop. He would smile easily at her. They would talk easily. She would smell his cologne, and, moving closer, feel the whiskers of his goatee on her neck as he kissed her. Jodi leaned back against a hay bale in the hayloft, dug the heels of her boots into the heavy timbers of the loft’s floor, and spread her knees apart. Her cutoff denim shorts were tight against her and the dusty white tank-top did little to slow the sharp jabs in her back from the bale. She imagined him lowering himself onto her, taking her, and helping her to lose control. Jodi’s fingers unsnapped her shorts, peeled her zipper down, and loosened the cloth so her hand could squeeze under her panties. She breathed in the dust as her hips stirred the unmoved air. She imagined the man in the suit entering her while she looked through large penthouse windows onto city lights. She imagined pressing her breasts against the cool glass while he slid deep inside her. She imagined him moaning, cumming. Every time she imagined him in that moment, Jodi’s body erupted. She never stifled her voice when she came. Nobody was around to hear her. She came loudly when her body finally released its orgasm.

But today, just as she came, the man in the business suit, with the tight goatee and rich cologne dissolved into a new face, a new man. As she came, the man fucking her in her fantasy became the newest farmhand working for her dad. His face was scratchy with whiskers and he wore a John Deere cap every day. He wore a shirt with snaps, not buttons as the businessman did in her dreams. And instead of fucking against a wall of windows overlooking the city, the farmhand fucked her as she bent over the back of his truck’s tailgate. The tender hands of the businessman on her hips were replaced with those of a calloused grip from the farmhand. Within moments, Jodi came again. Louder this time. Harder. The farmhand had infiltrated her fantasy, and she shook imagining him.

As she lay in the dusty loft, she thought about the farmhand, Collin. He was only a little older than she and there was no denying his intense, chiseled good looks. But he was the opposite of what she wanted, of her fantasy and escape. A man like him was not what got her out of the country and into a new life. A man like him would just make her settle down and she wanted to be free, to escape the farm, and to explore the wildness of the city. But his warm smile kept coming back to her mind. She felt a smile on her face as she recalled his bright, white smile that seemed to beam from his dirty, sweat-streaked. Collin had entered her life and fantasies, uninvited, but welcomed, nonetheless.

Jodi’s hand quickly pulled free of her denim shorts at the sound of the barn door loudly creaking. A penetrating light flooding through the loft’s floorboards. Someone’s here! Jodi held her breath and froze. The clopping of cowboy boots hit the concrete floor of the barn’s first level. Jodi looked through the cracks in the loft’s floor to see who was there, but she could not find the person who had entered the barn. The ladder that leads up to the loft groaned with the weight of someone climbing it. Jodi stood straight up and adjusted her denim shorts. Her fingers were trembling, and she just could not seem to move fast enough…..

“Jodi?!” Collin yelled. “You in here?!”

Find out what Jodi does by clicking on the image to get The J. Maples Collection: Two e-book.