On My Own.
Based on a post by ron de, in 5 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.
The heavy heart I had upon leaving Honiton and Estelle brightened some as I walked along the road. The day was warm and sunny, and I had a feeling of freedom I'd not had for six years. During my apprenticeship, it was a requirement that I eat, sleep, and work according to the schedule of Master Eaton. His schedule even dictated the times when Estelle and I might engage in the skills she taught me, for we could do so only when he was absent from the workshop.
Now, I could do as I wished. Were I to desire a nap in mid-afternoon, all I need do was wheel my cart under the trees, lie down and go to sleep. Were I to feel hungry, no matter what the time of day, I had only to reach into my cart for a crust of bread and a smearing of butter. I did restrain from these practices for the most part. I had only enough food to sustain me for a week, and I did so desire to begin my work amongst the farm people that I traveled from dawn to dusk.
I did miss Estelle's soft warm body against mine, especially so at night when I spread my blankets on the ground. Often I fell asleep thinking of her soft breasts in my hands while my cock stroked in and out of her cunny. While our couplings were not so frequent as I came to desire, they were made even more wonderful by the intervals between them.
The walking and pushing of my cart would be slow, I had thought, but I found my pace nearly that of the coach that had brought me from Whitchurch to Honiton. This was because I need not slow my pace for a particularly rugged stretch of road. I merely steered around the offending pocks and continued on my way.
As I walked, I contemplated how I would go about selling my skills to the people of the farms. They knew nothing of me and it was likely they would not trust me for there were tricksters who also roamed the roads. I composed a short little ditty I would use to announce my arrival, tell the people of my skills, and ask if they had any work.
I came upon a cottage a day and a half after leaving Honiton, and upon nearing the door, I began my song.
I am a happy tinsmith
I travel through the land
To mend your pots and other things
I am the tinker man
Round and deep or shallow
With holes both large and small
Bring them to my tinker's cart
And I will mend them all
The door to the cottage was open to allow in the breeze, and once I had begun my ditty a second time, a woman walked out onto the stoop.
She was an older woman, or at least she appeared to be older than Estelle. Her face had the lines I had seen in my mother's face, and there were a few silver strands showing in the black hair that she had done up in a bun.
Her dress, save for the color, was the same type of dress Estelle had always worn, being high at the neck and low at the hem. Unlike Estelle, this woman wore no slippers. She looked at me with a suspicious eye.
"Who is this who sings at my doorstep about mending pots?"
I bowed, then smiled.
"I am Johnathan Harrison Erickson, Ma'am, and I am a tinker. Have you any pots that require mending?"
"Yes, I have one or two. What is your price?"
I had given the matter of price some considerable thought. In Honiton, the usual price for mending a small spot was two pence, three for a larger spot. Having come from a rural background, I thought these prices somewhat high for those living on a farm. I had established prices that would pay for my time and materials, but not be so high as to cause my customers to reconsider.
"A pence for a small spot, a pence and a half pence for a larger one. Should the mending require adding a piece of tin plate, the price would vary."
"What is a small spot and what is a large spot?"
I smiled again.
"I would have to inspect the spot, of course, but a large spot I would consider one a bit larger than a finger."
She shook her head.
"I am a widow woman, and have little coin. I think I shall continue to use my pots as they be."
As I had traveled, I had also considered this possibility. While increasing my purse was the ideal outcome of my work, some of that purse would be required to purchase food that I might eat on a regular basis. If my customers had no coin, they would probably have oats or a slab of bacon they could spare.
"Ma'am, if you would be so kind as to offer something in the way of grains or meats, that payment would be also acceptable."
Her face brightened.
"I could fix you a meal. I have an ham and some pease from last night."
I had not eaten so well since leaving the workshop, and the prospect of a good meal made my mouth water.
"That would be acceptable, Ma'am. Bring out your pots."
The woman went inside and returned with a large kettle and two small pots. It was a quick matter to mend the pots, just a small dam and some tin solder to each. The kettle was somewhat more of a problem. The tin was gone from a large area of the bottom and when I pressed on this area, the iron gave way and left a hole. I would have to add a patch of tin plate.
The woman watched as I cut the patch, formed it to the contours of the kettle and then soldered it into place inside and out. She smiled as I handed her the kettle.
"That one is a favorite of mine. You know your trade well, I think. Come inside while I heat the ham and pease."
Her kitchen was small with a stove at one end and a small table at the other. She pointed to a chair at the table.
"That chair is where my husband sat to take his meals. It will give me pleasure to see a man sitting there again."
Once the ham and pease had been warmed, the woman sat a bowl full in front of me and then handed me a spoon. She sat on the opposite side of the table while I finished that bowl, and then asked if I would like another.
I should have politely answered no, but I did so enjoy the flavor. She smiled when I handed her the bowl and went to refill it. When she returned, she remarked that I ate as had her husband.
"He would empty a bowl and then ask for more, sometimes twice. He was a man, he was, tall and strong of back. Would that he were still here, for I miss the things he used to do."
I swallowed a mouthful of pease and then asked what those things might be. She smiled and her eyes seemed to gleam.
"Oh, a great many things. My Jacob tended the farm, of course, though my son does that work now. There were other things as well. He carried the wood and water, and ploughed the garden in spring, and ;
She smiled coyly.
"Of course, I can not tell you everything he did for me. You would not understand."
My reply was that I was nearly twenty, and had no trouble understanding most things.
She smiled.
"Do you understand the ways of men with women? It is of that which I speak."
I had not anticipated such a question, and especially not given the difference in our ages. If the woman had a son old enough to tend to the farming, she was surely forty or better while I was still just nineteen.
She sat there smiling while I contemplated my situation, and when I did not answer, smiled at me.
"It appears you are somewhat shy in answering me. That tells me you do understand. Perhaps I can convince you to demonstrate your skills at that task as well. My husband has been gone four years now, and I crave a man's touch. Would you be the man to ease that craving?"
She began unbuttoning the top of her dress. When the button at her waist was released, she opened the dress and smiled again.
Her breasts were at least half again as large as Estelle's and though they sat lower on her chest, were causing my cock to rise. I knew not what to make of this invitation.
"Ma'am, I do not think it would be correct of me to do so. You do not know me and I do not know you."
She chuckled.
"Ah, you wish an introducing first. Very well. I am Emily Stoat, and you gave me your name earlier."
She stood and walked to face me. After taking my hand and placing it upon her heavy, right breast she said, "Johnathan, now we know each other."
I confess the yielding softness under my fingertips took away all my reasoning power. Gently I squeezed that softness and Emily caught her breath.
"Your hand may be a tinker's hand, but it would appear it is also the hand of a lover. Is your other hand so gentle?"
I lifted her other breast, squeezed it gently, and then lightly stroked the thick teat. Emily said no more. She merely grasped my hand and pulled me through a door on one wall of her kitchen.
Upon removing my clothes and lying on the bed beside her naked body, I marveled at her shape. As I related before, I knew her breasts were much larger than Estelle's. I anticipated the same difference in the girth of her waist and hips. While Emily was somewhat larger in both places, the increase in size was not in the same proportion.
Her waist was a bit thicker and her hips were wider, but the increase only increased my desire for her. In fact, I found myself becoming aroused at a faster rate just from the looking.
Emily noticed my arousal as well. She smiled, grasped my rigid cock, and stroked it a little, then chuckled.
"I wonder if you wield this tool as well as you wield your hammer. Pray show me if your skills with the ladies match your skills at mending pots."
I am proud to say I did my best, though such was not a difficult task. Emily proved to be as avid a lover as Estelle, though in somewhat different ways.
While Estelle preferred my attentions to her breasts and teats began softly and increased as did her state of arousal, Emily was more forthright. As soon as I bent my head and took her teat into my mouth, Emily sighed.
"Ah, my young tinker, suckle as the calf suckles the cow and do not fear of causing me harm. 'twill only increase my passions."
Suckle I did and with a somewhat greater vigor than I had with Estelle. The rapid motions seemed to excite Emily very quickly, so quickly that she bade me use two fingers in her cunny. Once my fingers were in her warm portal, Emily adjusted her position somewhat and then sighed.
"Lad, your fingers do so arouse my passions. Were you to add a third, I would become aroused even more."
I did as she asked, but was fearful of injuring the soft portal into which I guided a third finger. Emily sighed as it entered her, then rocked up her wide hips a little. As a result, my three fingers were soon stopped by my hand pressing against Emily's puffy cunny lips and she moaned.
"Oh, lad, for so long I have been denied the feeling of having my cunny stretched so. Already I feel my nectar flowing and the need to feel your cock inside me. Pray, stroke a while more and then impale me on your rod."
I confess that I probably did not stroke Emily so long as she desired, but I was overwhelmed by the way she did move her body to force my three fingers deeper inside her. She did not stop me when I knelt between her upraised thighs and attempted to guide my cock to her portal though. Instead, she grasped my shaft and moved it between her swollen lips for a while, then positioned the head at her entrance.
"Now, Johnathan, fill my cunny with your stiff cock and do not be gentle about it. My husband was a man and it is a man I need inside me now."
I did as best I could and quickly thrust my cock into Emily's wet and slippery depths. She moaned and jerked her cunny up into that thrust. When my sack bumped against her bottom, she moaned again.
"That is the way a man takes a woman, lad. Continue with such thrusts that I may reach my end. It would cause me great pleasure if you were to give my teats some soft bites as well."
When I made my first thrust, I was somewhat concerned that if her cunny could accept three of my fingers the grip of her passage would not be so snug as that of Estelle. Such proved not to be the case however. As soon as my cock began to penetrate Emily's depths I felt a tightening around my rigid shaft. I knew not what caused that tightening, but I was well aware of the effect.
I was not aware of how pinching Emily's teats between my teeth would cause her to react, and that reaction was very interesting. At the first pinch, Emily gasped and I felt her belly tighten under mine. I also felt the grip of her cunny tighten more, a feeling that caused me to edge much closer to my final end.
As I continued to thrust my cock in and out of Emily's gripping cunny and as I alternately suckled and pinched her teats with my teeth, I felt Emily's juices flowing around my cock and down onto my sack. I also heard her little mewing cries and felt her fingers on my backside and attempting to pull my cock inside her deeper.
I was very near my end when Emily sucked in a deep breath, held that breath, and by pushing with her heels lifted us both up off the mattress. I felt the squeezing of my cock relax, then tighten over and over again as Emily let her face flop to the side. Her soft thighs squeezed my waist and then began to quiver. I made one last, firm pinch of her left teat between my teeth and Emily's body became a shuddering sheath that forced me to yield my seed deep inside her. I confess I moaned as the first spurt splashed into her depths, then moaned twice more as my stiff cock spurted.
Emily continued to cause her cunny to milk at my cock even though I was spent. After a time, she slowly fell back to the bed, but held me between her thighs. She stroked my back, and sighed.
"Ah, such a man I have not felt since my husband went to his reward. Would that I could keep you here, for I wish to feel this way again."
While I would have greatly enjoyed staying with Emily, my primary goal was to return to the place of my birth and begin my shop. I did cause Emily to have those feelings two more times before departing though, once later that night and again very early the next morning. As the sun shone it's rays over the trees around Emily's house, she held me close and said her door would always be open to me. I confess that it was with a heavy heart that I pushed my cart on down the road.;
I traveled for half a day before stopping in a grove of trees beside the road for a noon meal. That noon meal was a slice of ham Emily had forced me to take though I told her she had more than settled her accounts with me. She only smiled and said the slice of ham was for my exercise of my other skills. As I munched on the thick slab, I reflected that both my skills gave me great pleasure.
I also realized that exercising the skills I had learned from Estelle were somewhat tiring when practiced several times in a short period. I had finished half the slice of ham when I was overcome by fatigue and fell asleep leaning against the wheel of my cart.
When I woke, the sun was halfway to dropping below the trees. The delay at Emily's, though a very pleasant delay, had cost me nearly half a day of travel. After vowing that I should not be so tempted again, I began pushing my cart down the road.
The sun was nearly behind the trees that lined the roadway when I spied a small farm ahead. Having grown up on a farm, I knew it would be fruitless to call at the house at this hour of the day. The woman of the house would be cooking supper for her husband and her husband would be attending to the chores of the farm such as gathering the hens into their coop and then feeding the livestock. I did resolve to make my call on the morrow after I had seen the man of the house go off to the fields to work.
To that end, I pushed my cart up to the house and then some distance from the roadway and after lighting a fire in the stove I used to heat the copper iron I used for soldering, made myself a small serving of oat porridge. Upon eating that along with a small bit of my ham slice, I put out the fire, got my blankets from my cart, and prepared to take my slumbers.
Sleep was difficult to achieve, I would suppose because of my nap at my noon meal, so I lay there on my blanket and listened to the sounds of the night. It was the night of a full moon, so the darkness usual inside the trees was greatly diminished, so diminished that I could plainly see the house sitting across the roadway. Contrary to what I had always experienced at my old home, light from a flickering candle still lit the single window I could see.
As my eyes refused to close, I rose and ventured toward the roadway as I was curious about that lighted window. I saw nothing but shadows against a wall inside until the sound of the door to the house opening came to my ears. Someone was leaving the house.
At first, I was concerned that I had been discovered, but as it was, it was only the lady of the house making a trip to the privy. In the light of the full moon, I could plainly see her in her white night dress, candle lantern in hand, and striding toward the small privy to the side of the house. I thought nothing of this as it was Estelle's custom to do likewise before retiring.
A short time later, the privy door opened and the woman made her way back to the house. I had no sooner heard the door close than it was opened again. My assumption was this would be the man of the house bent upon the same task, but I was mistaken. The person was another woman in a white night dress on her way to the privy. She was carrying the same candle lantern. I knew this because of the distinctive piercings above the glass windows.
At first, I thought this second person to be probably a daughter, but as I observed her trip, I was struck by the fact that she did not appear or move as would a young girl. She was as tall as the first woman and her wide hips made the same motion as the first. A daughter to the first woman might be as tall as her mother or even taller, but she would not have the wider hips I had witnessed both Estelle and Emily to have.
After the second woman had returned to the house, I expected to see the man of the house next, but no such event occurred. The candle light in the window was extinguished and I assumed the women had gone to bed.
I went back to my blankets wondering at what I had just seen. It was common in the countryside for a husband's or wife's mother to live with the woman and her husband once her own husband had gone to his reward, but neither woman appeared old enough to have birthed the other.
I had never heard of two women living together because such was just not done. A farm required a man to be successful. Women did not understand the working of draft animals nor the husbandry of livestock save possibly the hens that furnished them eggs and the occasional chicken dinner.
Was it possible the man of the house had two wives? This again was not possible. Even in the countryside, people had a very strict moral code.
Now, I knew that in Honiton, there were well to do men who availed themselves of a mistress in addition to a wife. Estelle had told me this fact and had told me that often the wife was aware of her husband's dalliances. The wife ignored the transgressions of her husband in order to maintain a secure way of living for her and her children. I thought this to be quite unfair to the wife, especially if that wife had the desires Estelle seemed to hold.
Never, though, had I heard of a man living with two women in the same house. I fell asleep still wondering what I would discover on the morrow.
The next morning, after a breakfast of more oat porridge, I waited for the man of the house to depart for the fields before approaching the house with my little song. The sun was nearly risen when I saw the door of the house open and a woman - I could not discern which - went to the privy again.
She still wore a white night dress and in the better light, I could see that the woman filled that nightdress in a more arousing manner than had Estelle filled hers. Estelle's breasts did move about under her nightdress, but not to the extent of the woman I was observing. It was obvious this woman had somewhat larger breasts, a feature I found most arousing.
Upon the woman's return to the house, the other woman, likewise dressed, made her trip to the privy. This woman did not have breasts as large as even Estelle's, they being just small rises in the front of her nightdress.
I thought it odd that neither woman was dressed to have prepared breakfast. Neither Estelle nor my mother had ever appeared outside her bedroom dressed in a nightdress if I or my brother was present. I thought perhaps they had merely slept longer and were now going to dress and prepare a meal.
I waited a considerable time to see the man of the house leave, but no man left the house. The woman with small breasts did however. She was wearing a dress which was normal, but she was wearing the heavy boots such as a man would wear. She walked to the small barn and went inside.
I resolved to approach the house then. I was already half a day behind my schedule and feared if I did not earn some coin or at least more food, I would arrive at my father's home outside of Whitchurch half starved to death.
I pushed my cart out of the trees and then across the road, and began my little song.
I am a happy tinsmith
I travel through the land
To mend your pots and other things
I am the tinker man
Round and deep or shallow
With holes both large and small
Bring them to my tinker's cart
And I will mend them all
I was in the process of repeating my little ditty when the door to the house opened and the woman with larger breasts stepped outside. She looked much the same age as my mother, that being forty and two years.
"You are a tinker?"
I took of my cap and bowed.
"That I am, Ma'am. Have you any pots that need mending? I am quite skilled, having apprenticed with a master tinker in Honiton, and my price for mending pots is lower than you might have to pay another tinker."
She frowned then.
"It is usual that a low price means a low quality of work. How is it you can have a lower price?"
I explained that my shop was my cart and so I had no expense for anything save a little material and my labor. She smiled then.
"Elizabeth will return from tending the sheep and chickens in a moment. I believe she has a bucket that could use a good repair."
No sooner had she spoken thusly than the other woman approached with a wire basket of hen's eggs. She likewise appeared to have seen at least forty years since the date of her birth. She stopped beside the other woman and touched the other woman's arm.
"Who is this boy, Grace, and what is his business here?"
Now, I was somewhat taken aback by that statement. It was not common, at least in my experience, for a woman to be so forceful. It was this irritation that caused me to speak in my defense.
"I am Johnathan Harrison Erickson, and I am no boy. I am a journeyman tinker here to mend your pots should you have any that require mending."
Apparently Elizabeth was likewise taken somewhat aback, because she frowned.
"You speak as would a man, but you look like a boy. How is it you learned the skill you profess to have at so young an age?"
I explained my apprenticeship, leaving out my apprenticeship to Estelle of course. When I finished, Elizabeth half-smiled.
"We shall see. I have a bucket in which I carry water to the hens. It has a spot that drips water and I would have it fixed. What would be the charge?"
As I had with Emily, I replied with my prices. Elizabeth looked at the woman I now knew as Grace and smiled.
"Grace, do we have a pence we can spare? I tire of the water dripping on my legs."
I thought it odd that Grace patted Elizabeth on the arm then.
"Elizabeth, I would not have you spend another single day wetting your legs. Go and fetch your bucket."
The repair was simple enough. The tin plate had worn through from the outside for some reason, and the iron beneath had begun to rust. There was no hole through, as such, but the tin plate on the inside had developed a small crack and that crack allowed a small amount of water to seep through.
Both Elizabeth and Grace watched as I made the repair and they appeared to be very interested in my process. Being proud of my skills, I began to explain while I waited for my small stove to heat my copper iron.
"The bucket is made from iron coated with tin on both sides. That is because iron will rust when exposed to the damp, but tin will not. If the tin is worn away, as in the case of your bucket, the iron will rust until it crumbles away from the tin on the other side. What is required is to clean the rusted portion and then cover both sides with new tin.
I carefully scraped at the rusted area, both inside and outside, until it shone like silver.
"If the iron is clean, it will shine just as does the tin. Now, I will use a tinker's dam to contain my solder where it should be applied."
So saying, I mixed a small amount of my tinker's clay with water to form a thick paste and then painted it around the freshly cleaned spot. After testing my iron, I applied it to the freshly cleaned area on the inside of the bucket. After a few moments, the thin rod of tin melted and filled the dam. I then turned the bucket over and applied the tin rod to the other side. It likewise melted and filled its dam.
After inspecting both sides of the repair, I let the tin cool and then wiped away the two dams. When I handed the bucket to Elizabeth, I said, "There you are, Elizabeth, as good as new at a much lower price."
Elizabeth smiled, but said she must be assured the leak was fixed. She walked off toward the pump between the house and barn and began pumping the bucket full of water. I turned to Grace then.
"Ma'am, have you any other pots or buckets that require mending?"
Grace shook her head, but she was smiling.
"No, all our pots are fine. I fear our pots do not get the same use as if we were more than just two."
My question about who was living in the house had just been answered, but I was somewhat confused by that answer.
"Just the two of you live here? Who does the work of running the farm?"
Grace smiled.
"You find our situation unusual, do you not? Surely in a city as large as Honiton, there were women living together. It is not usual, but it likewise is not so rare as some believe. Both Elizabeth and I share the work of the farm, though she is much better at the plowing and other work in the field than I. Elizabeth grew up a sister to four boys, and she learned what boys learn as well as what her mother taught her about being a woman. We do not really need a man on our farm, nor do we wish to have one."
Well, that was something new to me, and as rude as it likely was, I said it was my experience there were some things a man could do that a woman could not.
Grace smiled.
"You men believe women to be weak. We are not. We are not so strong as a man, but we are smart enough to use our heads instead of our backs."
She smiled that odd little smile again.
"Unless you speak of a task other than those of farming. Could it be that you believe women to be unable to do that task as well?"
I was unsure to what task Grace was referring, but I did not have the opportunity to ask. Elizabeth had returned with her bucket and she was smiling.
"This tinker has mended the hole and the leak is no more. I do believe he is as skilled as he professes to be."
To be continued in part 4, by ron de for Literotica.