Erica, Ranch Wife. pt 1 by del fuego

I was excited in several senses of the word. My niece Erica was going to stay with me for an indefinite time. I live alone on 110 acres of prime horse prairie in Wyoming, the company would be good. The best. Erica has stayed the summer several times since she was a teenager. Now, with her having graduated High School a year and a half early, she had time to kill and bugged her parents until they let her come back. There was no plan on when this would end. All of her previous trips were limited to several months when she was out of school. Now, she was bound to start college and had a full ride academic scholarship, but the college was strict about the age limit of it’s students. Full time college students had to be 18 years of age. Erica had just turned 16. She could be staying with me for the next 2 years.

The airport terminal was nearly abandoned. Not many flights out and only a few in. Erica’s plane landed a few minutes ago and had taxied to the terminal. Just a 12 seat puddle-jumper, Erica was the third and last passenger out. Damn, she’d gotten taller since I’d seen her last year. She was wearing western clothes, which were just “clothes” out here, but in the city she was from they were a “western” affect and she stood out. It had been an issue when she first came to stay with me when she was 14.

Erica’s first trip out, age 14.

When she was 14, mom suggested that she come “work” on my horse ranch for the summer. Several things had happened that prompted this. Erica had discovered boys, and more importantly, they had discovered her. This led to several confrontations about Erica, my sisters middle-child, being involved with the police for truancy, being involved with the wrong kind of boys in general and the inevitable mom-daughter fights, that had according to all, been biblical in proportion. So Erica was shuffled off to Wyoming to stay with her “hermit uncle” for the summer. I hadn’t seen her since she was eight years old.

When she arrived the first time, she was wearing shorts, flip-flops, and a tank top. No bra. She stood out, needless to say. I was almost embarrassed for her, but I don’t think she was even aware of the stares she was getting from the local folks. Where she was from, this was probably the norm. Her shorts were too short. Her lack of a bra and the tank top she wore showed way too much cleavage and side boob. Even for a 14 year old, she was well endowed at 5′ 2″ and about 130 pounds. She was pretty and confident, but a little heavy, if you could see anything past the continuous free tit show. She had a slight belly roll and some nice padding in the trunk, but over all a very pleasant picture. She was a brunette with big brown eyes and pretty olive skin. As she entered the airport terminal, She caught my eye, rolled her luggage over and asked “Mr. Vinson ?”

“That’s me, Erica” I said. “You can call whatever you want”. She beamed and hugged me around the waist for what seemed to be a long time.

“We’ve got a long drive ahead of us, we need to stop while were in town though” I told her.

“MMkay” she mumbled.

“Your mom said you might need some things when you got here, what’s up ?” I asked.

“Once they decided to send me up here, things kind of went form bad to worse…between my mom and me”. She said. She flushed some as she spoke and looked a little upset.

“I know, I heard” I replied.

Changing the subject I asked “What kind of clothes did you bring ?”

“Not sure, I was just stuffing things into my suitcase last night, not really paying attention. I was concentrating on escaping”. She said.

“I need to hit a walmart sometime, if that’s OK.” she said.

“Sure”. “Do you have clothes you can work outside in “? I asked.

“Nope, pretty much just these”. She said, indicating the scanty shorts and shirt.

We walked out to the truck and I put her suitcase on the tailgate. She showed me her clothes she had hastily packed. No shoes, three tank tops, similar to what she had on, four pair of thong panties, three socks, a pair of swim shorts and an empty pillow case.

“Erica you’re gonna need some clothes you can work in”. “The sun out here’ll cook you like a steak.” I told her. “We’ll stop off and get you some clothes, your mom told me she would take care of it.” I added.

“I have my own money” Erica said. “I’ve got a checking account and a credit card now”. She added.

“Oh ?”

“Yeah, I worked for my step-dads firm as an intern for the last two summers and the Christmas and spring breaks, plus I tutor kids in my spare time.” She said as she held out her gold Visa card. I inspected it, not a gift card, but a real damned gold card with “Erica Lynn Danzig” embossed on it.

“You kept the name” I said.

“Yeah, my step-dad’s a prick, I don’t want his name or anything else” she said.

“I’ve got about $4,500.00 in a CD and another thousand in cash”, she said in a hushed tone. She looked around to see if anyone in the parking lot had taken an interest in her finances. No one had because there was no one in the parking lot. In fact, no one was in the airport or the terminal because they had shut down and gone home for the day.

“Lets go” I said. and climbed in the truck.

“I need to hit an ATM or I can just write a check” she said as she climbed in.

Damn kid is more savvy and financially sound than I am.

Erica moved my spittoon from the middle of the seat and sat right next to me, “sitting bitch” as I used to say. She started talking a mile a minute. She was obviously stressed out over her mom and her hectic life. She was intelligent and well spoken, more than some adults I know. As we drove the 30 minutes into Laramie, she cried once as she described the most recent fight between her parents that inevitably turned into a fight between her and her mom. Her step-dad was an ass. Erica hated him, but all the tension and frustration ended up causing Erica and her mom to fight amongst themselves, usually about her step-dad. Erica was always close to her mom, until she remarried four years ago. Erica was a gifted student, she was an academic decathlon winner, honor student, High-Q club, tutored “dumb kids” in her off time, and worked her vacation and summer off time in her step-dads law firm. She said she had been mistaken numerous times for a lawyer at her step-dads firm. I remembered how smart she was as a little kid, as a teen she was scary smart and well read. I had forgotten how pretty she was.

“Part of being an intern is you have to dress according to code”. “Business Professional, or you’ll look like a rube”. she said. “I had a nice dress I wore all the time and several blouses, so I wouldn’t look the same all the time”. “My second year, the firm gave me a clothing stipend, I bought four suits”. she said, smiling big. “The best part of interning is hanging with the rest of the staff. I get to go to lunch with them and we talk about all kinds of stuff, they’re mostly college age.” “And I’m never near my step dad, except to go to or come from work”.

“Look here” she said. She pulled out her ID card from the firm. It had her name and picture on it. The picture looked like it was of her older sister or mother, except for the hair color. Erica was pictured in a business suit from the shoulders up, her hair was done up nicely and she had make up on. She looked to be in her early 20s, and very pretty.
“When I started, Mandy and Judy, they’re some of the older interns, put make up on me and did my hair after work” she said. “They said I had to do make up just right or I’ll look trampy”. “Too little is better than too much” she added.

Changing the subject, I told her “Clothes out here are part of a code too, you know”. “You’ll have to trust me on this, I wont steer you wrong”.

“I trust you”. she said.

“OK, first thing is, This is different than living in city or working in a law firm, you’ll need boots to protect your feet, jeans and a long sleeve shirt or you’ll regret it”. I said. “You’ll need a hat, out here it’s not fashionable, but survival”.

“Ok” she said.

“Also, you need real underwear, you’ll chafe to death and be useless to me if you can’t even walk”. “Those g-strings are pretty, and I’m sure they’re OK in an office setting, but you’ll have to trust me”.

“They’re not g-strings, I wear thongs”. she said. I just looked at her. “OK” she said.

We pulled up to tractor supply and parked. I turned Erica loose for a few minutes to explore and walked over to the clothing section. I met with Elaine, a nice older lady that knew my measurements by heart.

We talked a bit and I told her I needed to set up my niece for work on the ranch.

Erica came up as we spoke.

“So this is the city girl ? Elaine said.

“I’m Erica, and you are…? said Erica, as she held her hand out.

“Mrs. Spivey”. as they shook hands.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Spivey”. “Evidently, I need clothes”. She said, as she nodded conspicuously towards me.

“I’d say so”, Elaine said, as she checked out what Erica was wearing. “You don’t have to dress like a man nowadays, but you have to dress for life on a ranch, so I’ll help you pick out what you need” Elaine said. She gave me a smile and took Erica by the shoulder and disappeared into the back of the store. I sat down and waited.

After what seemed like an hour, they reappeared carrying about a metric ton of clothing.

“OK, we’ve got 5 pair wrangler 32×30 ladies cut, in indigo and black, she was a little too tight in the caboose for the 28’s she thought she wore” Elaine said and added conspiratorially “This’ll keep her ass crack from showing when she bends over”. I found myself thinking that Erica’s ass crack wouldn’t look so bad…

She continued, “I’ve got 5 long sleeve cotton shirts that Erica picked out, a pair of Justin size 8 medium ropers, shoulder cut, rubber sole”. “You know you don’t need to have the leather sole on a boot anymore, Uncle”. She said. “The rubber is long lasting and there’s no break-in like yours”. “A ten pack of extra thick, padded socks, cotton, various colors”. “And finally”, she beamed, “A very nice 20XX grey felt hat, cattlemen’s cut, in size 6 and 3/4”.

Erica was wearing most of her new clothes and was busy folding the rest when Elaine pulled me aside. “You know she’s only blossomed a year ago and she says her only bra is so tight it hurts her to wear it” Elaine said in concern.

That explains that, Moms’ probably too busy to bra shop.

Elaine added, “She’s a perfect “B” cup and about a 33, she needs to buy a 34 or she’ll be spilling out of it in a year”. “When she grows out of that baby-fat. she’ll be a real looker” Elaine said with a wink. She added “She knows what to buy when you go to walmart, I’ve told her, satin or cotton or just a sports bra that’s not too tight, don’t get anything else or she’ll be sorry”. “You can let her pick out the pretty stuff too, you know, it doesn’t have to look like prison garb” Elaine scolded me.

OK, OK I get it, jesus…I was getting wood with all this bra talk, imagining Erica modeling her underwear for me. I’m scum.

Elaine whispered “She needs to stop buy the sundries too, You know, toothbrush, deodorant… other things as well”. I knew what Elaine meant, tampons. “Poor thing says she didn’t have a lot of time to pack for her trip”.

We rang up and used mom’s credit card number over the phone for Erica’s clothes. Erica had pulled her long brown hair back to wear her hat and she looked gorgeous. Like a presentable young lady that any man would be proud to be seen with. Boots, jeans, pink belt, light blue plaid shirt with white pearl snaps and her hat that fit her well. Some people buy a hat that looks too big or too small and they look like a cartoon figure. Erica was perfectly outfitted and happy about her clothes, thank god for Mrs. Spivey.

At walmart, things went well. Erica insisted on using her money for her clothes. Erica looked at bras and sized them up. She picked out a red lacy one and ominously said
“I’ll be back” as she walked into the change room. A minute later she returned and picked 4 more of the same , each in a different color. Bras are done.

She picked out her cotton, bikini cut panties in the 5 pack in size medium. On impulse I said to get another pack. I don’t care if someone wears the same pants two days in a row, but I’ll be damned if I want her wearing the same panties two days in a row. Panties are done.

I went to look for car parts or something and left her to the sundries.

We met at the check out where she paid for her items with a check and her own bank ID. I noted her tampons weren’t tampons, but petite mini-pads. I wondered if I was preoccupied with my nieces intimate functions and the clothes buying experience giving me wood, just thinking about her changing into new clothes. HHmmm. Before we left I bought her 3 pair of medium sized leather work gloves.

We had an hours drive home, it was late. We stopped by sonic and got food to eat on the way. it would be past dark when we got home and I was tired. We ate as we drove, Erica helping me eat and occasionally feeding me so i could concentrate on driving. She would giggle and crack jokes, but was careful not to distract me from driving down the highway.

We talked. I told her about etiquette in the west. You never remove your hat unless you can clean up and comb your hair, basically, you never remove your hat. Except for church. You don’t tuck your jeans into your boots, that’s for queers. You never iron your jeans. When you meet someone you look them in the eye and you shake their hand. Erica had done very well with Mrs. Spivey. Even though she was a kid she was expected to behave as an adult, unless she was with other kids her age. If she was in someone’s home she was to meet and stay with the ladies or the kids, her choice, the men would meet alone. All the rules that aren’t really rules but are accepted ways in the west.

Erica dozed off and scooted next to me again and put her head on my shoulder to fall asleep. As we bounced down the road to the house, she woke up. We both carried her suitcase and clothes into the house. I put her stuff in the guest room and cleaned some stuff out of her bathroom to make room for her. Erica was asleep on the couch. She had put her hat next to mine on the elk horn by the door. I shook her to wake her but she just moaned. I knelt down to pull her boots off. I loosened her belt and undid her jeans top button. With that Erica woke and sat up.

“Just crash here for know, it’s a pretty comfortable sofa.” I told her.

“MMkay” she said as she sat up. As she removed her shirt and put it aside she reached under her t-shirt and deftly removed her new bra, without removing her t-shirt. I was given a look at her tasty boobs again from around the loose shirt. Hmmm, the wonders of women.

I went to my bedroom, stripped down to my boxers and laid down.

I was awakened by a presence at the edge of the bed. It was Erica, standing there in her new under wear and loose top.

“Move over” she said. Stunned and asleep, I did as I was told and Erica promptly climbed into bed with me. She slid in next to me and spooned her back to my chest, pushing her cute butt into my crotch. Oh Lord. She reached back and pulled my arm over her and went to sleep. I laid there and felt my cock harden against her soft butt cheeks as I realized she had placed my hand over one of her boobs. No sleep for me tonight.

Amazingly, I drifted off to sleep the most comfortable sleep I’d had in years. Erica’s soft heat against my skin. Her virgin body against my calloused flesh. When I awoke, I was aware that I had my hand firmly holding her tit. Erica’s hand was back behind her on my hip, as if holding me in place.

“Hey” she said.

“Good morning,” I said. ” Time to get up”.

“Can we stay like this a little more” Erica asked.

“Sure” I replied. With that she nestled into me again, and deliberately pushed her butt into my now, resprouting erection. She placed her hand over mine and gave a squeeze to it as if to squeeze her own tit with my hand.

“That feels so good” she said softly.

“It does” I said.

“I know this is wrong, but could we be, like a couple, for the summer ? she asked.

“You’re my flesh and blood, I’ve already stepped over the line”. I said with some shock, trying to keep my composure and not turn this into a big deal.

“I know, but I’ve been leading you on since I’ve been here, it’s my fault too” she added.

With that she sat up and faced me. “We could be, just for the summer, you know.”

“You’re too young to know better, you’re infatuated”. I said.

“Please, don’t flatter yourself” she said, half joking. “I worked in a law office, I heard and saw things way over my maturity level”. “I want a boyfriend so bad I could scream, but the boys I know, even at the firm, are immature shits”. “I want a MAN, like you, for a boyfriend”. she added.

Trying to be delicate I said ” Honey, I am flattered by your attention, but I am too old for you, I need someone my own age, and so do you “. “I would be proud to have you as a girlfriend, but our age and custom as well as the LAW make it impossible..” I trailed off.

“Couldn’t we just TRY, just for now, the summer ?” she pleaded. “It’d be just between us, I know how to act in public and I’m not clingy at all.” “You know I’d never tell my mom, She doesn’t have time for me as it is”.

I hesitated, she continued.

“Look, I could have come in here and grabbed your dick or tried to get you to fuck me, but I just wanted to be held. I felt so good when you had your arms around me last night. I felt peaceful and secure that you were protecting me. I just want to talk with you without having to be defensive like I am with my mom and step-dad. I want to just hang, you know, with a best friend. Someone I don’t have to explain or justify myself to every damn time. I want to be treated like an adult, like you treated me, you talked WITH me not AT me”.

Dumbfounded. She made a hell of an argument.

“I could be here for you…be your friend, we don’t have to be in the same bed together…” I said.

She interrupted, “I don’t need a third dad, the first two are shit anyways, why would i want another one ? “Don’t you see the difference I’m talking about ? She asked with pleading in her eyes.

“If we’re boyfriend/girlfriend it could lead to other things…” I said.

“So let it ! She exclaimed, “I’m OK with that”. “Besides it’s not my first time, really”. “And besides, I’m pretty sure you enjoyed the tit grope last night and all morning, I felt your woody on my ass ! she added. “You could be locked up and registered as a sex offender for life…” she went on.

“Now wait a minute…” I said.

“I’m not going to say anything to anybody ! she exclaimed. “I’m OK with it ! “I like you and I want you to be my, somewhat older and more mature, boyfriend, you can look out for me and teach me things and just be there for me.” she said. “Cant you see it’s not about just sex ? It’s about you and me, sure there’s a gap, but I’m OK with that, I think it’d be cool.

“We could do that, but the sex thing…” again I was interrupted.

“I’m OK with the sex ! she said. “I’ve been with boys ! “I’ve been fingered some, and I gave a Blow job and a hand job to the same boy once”. “I know the birds and the bees and all that shit !

I’m losing this argument, I know it’s wrong, but she’s a damn good lawyer.

She continued “I don’t want to learn about sex, too, from some immature prick ! “Why can’t you be my boyfriend ? “I can learn about a real relationship, real couple stuff, and sex too ? “That’s part of the whole thing isn’t it ? “I’m not looking for a one-night stand or a pedophile to rape me for gods sake !

Then the clencher.

“We get along good, don’t we ? she asked. “I like you for several different reasons, I think you’re handsome and nice”. “Hanging out with you makes me feel better about myself, I feel happy with you.”

Erica wiped the tear from her eye. “I don’t see you as a “dad”, I see more in you…”

“Erica..” I was interrupted again.

“Why can’t we just be together, we don’t have to put a name on it, just go along, if either one of us gets uncomfortable we just go back to uncle/niece like before ? she said.

“Erica..” I attempted.

“What’s the harm ? “You’re not out cruising the schools LOOKING for a 14 year old girl to drag into the woods are you ? No one would flip out if I dated a 16 year old, or when my sister dated a 21 year old and she was only 17…” “What’s the difference if you’re older ? “Who’s to say HOW MUCH OF A DIFFERENCE IS OK ? she continued.

“ERICA, STOP ! I said as I put my hand over her mouth. With that she started to cry softly and I pulled her head down to my chest and held her there.

“You got me, I agree”. I said. Erica started laughing and crying at the same time and sat up again wiping her eyes and laughing.

“I’ll be a good girlfriend, you’ll see”. she said. “I’m way more mature than other girls my age”. Everybody says I’m on a “different level” and….

“I know” I interrupted. “And now it’s time for your first womanly duty as my new girlfriend”.

“Yeah ? she said.

“Breakfast” I said. As I got up to pee.

Nothing really happened much over the next few days. I was expecting her to be flirting really hard or trying to seduce me, now that we were official. But nothing like that went on. The most intimate we were was one evening while watching TV, she snuggled next to me and I had my arm around her. She was more interested in the show than I was. She leaned in to kiss me on the cheek and I returned the kiss on her forehead. She looked into my eyes and kissed me on the lips and this turned into a deep tongue kissing session. I got wood pretty quickly, since over the last few days, I had been anticipating this. Erica was practicing her kissing technique, trying not to slobber all over and keeping the spit in our mouths. She would pause to wipe her mouth and continue. We would run our tongues together like snakes, then dart them in and out, barely flicking each others. I felt Erica’s nipples harden in response. She was wearing only a t-shirt and her breasts were pressed against my chest. My cock was pretty stiff and she had put her hand over my jeans and felt it deliberately. After a while the kissing slowed down and Erica nodded off as we laid together on the sofa, content. Sweet dreams for her, blue balls for me.