Forced Love - Sex Stories

Forced Love

Elyse My skin turned red as the hot water washed over it. It was such a cold day outside. I needed the release of the steam. Jackson knocked on the door and I shut the water off. It was a very small bathroom and it didn’t take long for the steam to fill it up and cover the mirror. It was so hot in there that it had gotten hard to breath. I stepped out and wiped off the mirror. I was a mess. My pale blonde hair was in knots and my face was red hot. I looked at and admired my body. Naked and wet I was only about 5 foot 7 and 165 pounds. My breasts were uneven but that was easily fixable with a bit of padding. There really wasn’t much fat on me, I was pretty muscular. Jackson knocked again and I started to dry. I walked out with the towel wrapped around me and darted to the back room. I was the only female in the ten person crew that was hired for this job. They were all in line for the shower and they were all staring. I loved the attention. I grew up on a farm in Minnesota so I was no stranger to a hard day’s work. I wasn’t a stranger to the cold either, but it was just terrible. The snow drifts were so bad the truck got stuck a few different times. There were days I envied the snob girls whose biggest worry was if their shoes matched their dress and not whether or not the livestock would get feed and how they’d get it. I grumbled under my breath a little more and get some comfortable clothes on. The farmer’s wife, Khloe, was making dinner. I could smell the garlic bread the ...

... moment I stepped out of the room. The guys gave me a few comments on how nice I would look in a dress but I, as always, just blew them off on my way through to the common room. The house was huge. It could house around twenty people at any given time. I had never seen it full but I didn’t have to in order to be amazed by the structure. The floors were all hardwood but they were covered in rugs so the workers wouldn’t ruin them. The ceiling was high and had an occasional skylight. The kitchen was the size of a restaurant kitchen. The common area had five couches. There was no wall behind the couches to separate the room, but behind the couches were the dining tables. There were three of them, a dark solid wood with matching chairs. “Elyse, could you come in here and help me quick?” I heard Khloe shout from the kitchen. I walked in and couldn’t help but smile. She was always biting off more than she could chew. I pulled the darkening slices of bread out of the oven and stirred the noodles. Spaghetti. The smell was intoxicating. Khloe was an amazing cook. It was no wonder all the men loved her. She was also amazing to look at. She was about the same size as me, although she had less muscle and more cleavage. She always wore an upcycled tank-top version of her husband’s worn out flannels and either a left over material skirt or short pants. It was amazing what she could do with her sewing machine. The men had always commented on her unique style but I admired her for it. She could ...