Shape

Getting Dirty in the Berry Patch

“You’ve never been berry picking at Douglas Berries? It’s a Portland summer right of passage, that’s something you should have done years ago.” Margot was looking at me over the edge of her glass, green absinthe over ice. The green liquid was becoming milky with the cold, and when Margot leaned toward me a twinge of anise lingered on her breath. This was our second date, one of the first I’d been on that wasn’t an Internet thing. Margot was wearing a slinky green shirt, and between the absinthe, her clothing, and the dark dreadlocks that snaked up over her head the effect was viperous. I’d gladly be bitten by that snake. Strangled, wound tightly within the long muscle of her body. Really anything she could think to do to me and I was there. 

Margot was the first person I’d attempted to date since coming out as nonbinary, and she was incredibly chill and easy about the whole thing. No annoying or invasive questions. No asking me about my junk. Just rolled with it and nodded when I told her. Thank god. My gender expression had a way of setting a tone on first dates one way or the other, good or bad. I’d been too traumatized by that to tell the people I was interested in sexually that I didn’t want to be gendered as a man or a woman. But now that I was taking the plunge and doing it, I felt an enormous swell of relief. 

“Well, Tarin, we have to go.” What were we talking about again? Oh, yes. Berry picking. One look at the way Margot’s lips tilted up into a cheeky grin and I would pick berries, chop trees, roll around in the dirt – whatever. We hadn’t been intimate yet. This was a new thing for me, something I was trying out. Not fucking on the first date. Who would’ve thought? But so far the long coil of desire Margot was winding through my body was signaling to me that the wait was going to be worth it. We were building the tension, setting the stage. Fuck, I wanted her. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” I asked. Margot grinned at me, knocked the rest of her glass back. 

“Getting my hands dirty with you.” 

That night we left the bar and went to our respective homes, again. But there was a yearning between my legs that was insistent, unrelenting. I got myself off to the thought of her, furiously finger fucking myself and massaging my swollen clit. I liked to take it between two fingers and jerk gently, working myself toward a powerful orgasm. I came in a gush, the wet spot on the sheets something to behold. I turned over in my mind the ways I wanted to make Margot feel good, what tender movements I’d make between her legs. That night sleep came in frantic bursts, my mind too preoccupied with desire to settle into a state of rest. The next day couldn’t come soon enough.

She picked me up in her pick-up truck, denim overalls slung over her shoulders with a canary yellow tube top that ended right above her belly button. Her shirt hugged her ample breasts, the overalls a coy curtain that gave me a peekaboo every now and then. She seemed to know this, and took the overall straps by her thumbs, pulling them out and sticking her hips out too, like a Farmer Joe surveying the crop. 

“You like?” She asked. 

I blushed. Duh. But wanting to not be a total ogling creep I just managed, “Yeah, I love overalls. They’re so multipurpose and useful.” Lol, I thought, What the fuck was that?

Margot grinned, leaning against her truck.

“Hey, come here.” She said.

I walked to her and she kissed me, long and deep, soft at the end, pulling back and letting her lips linger against mine before fully moving away and saying, “Those berry bushes ain’t gonna trim themselves. Let’s go get ‘em partner.” That was a bit corny, but I liked it, her in this mock cow-poke roll. Honestly she could roll play as Danny DeVito and still my cunt would swell for her, so whatever was clever in my book. 

On the drive over I watched the sun cascade through the window and melt over her chicory-brown skin, wink against the brass clips on her overalls. She stared through the windshield, concentrated on winding us down the narrow dirt road that led to Douglas Berry Farm. We pulled to a stop in an empty lot.

“Huh, it’s kind of weird that nobody else is here.” she said, “Must be because it’s a Tuesday.” 

We were alone, it’s true. After paying a flat fee at the front counter we made our way into the rows of bushes that seemed to stretch endlessly towards the horizon. It was peak raspberry season, mid-June. Margot led us along a narrow row and we walked deeper and deeper in, fallen berries squishing beneath our shoes. A few yards over a long patch of Zinnias stretched their candy colored blossoms skyward. The air buzzed with the busywork of bees, and the fragrance of overripe berries wafted beneath our noses. The world was heavy on our senses, and when Margot’s hand reached back and brushed against mine, my heart nearly leapt up my throat.

Finally we stopped, bending down with the aluminum buckets we’d been given to begin picking. They filled quickly, the bushes were so ample. Eventually we just sat in the dirt, eating fistfuls of berries and talking. Margot leaned toward me with raspberry stuck on the end of her pointer finger and wagged it in my face.

“I dare you,” she said. 

Oh? Did she?

I took her whole finger in my mouth, sucking the fruit off of the tip and feeling its sweetness dissolve over my tongue. Margot smiled, her lips stained a deep red from raspberry juice. She leaned in and kissed me, her tongue a tangy slick of sweet that darted in and out between my lips. 

I took her hand, the one that was still wet from my mouth and put it against my chest, over my heart. I moved it slowly downward, over the swell of my breast. My breasts had so often felt terribly incongruous with the rest of me, soft and round bits that I wanted gone. That feeling was still there, but coupled with it was the desire for Margot to feel and see me. I felt handsome in her gaze, beautiful under her hands. I leaned back into the dirt. Margot climbed on top of me.

“Do you want this to happen, Tarin?” Margot asked me. She was kissing my neck, panting hot breath against my skin. I felt a tingling sensation along my slit, through the swell of my labia. My clit was pulsing beneath the briefs I was wearing. 

I wound my hands around her waist, played with the overall buttons at the sides of her hips.

“Fuck yes. Margot I want you to do anything you can possibly imagine to me. And I want to bury myself between your legs and take you to the fucking edge.”

Margot was straddling me, and she reared up, looking at me with a haughty smirk on her face. The sun was directly behind her head, and her face was shadowed as beams of light shot out all around the curve of her skull. Hallowed. She hooked one finger in an overall strap, sliding it off of her shoulder. Then the other. The top of her overalls fell down to her waist, exposing the yellow tube top that barely contained the globes of her breasts. Her nipples pushed against the thin fabric, taut and hard. I reached a hand up and traced it over the softness of her abdomen, then let it travel up to cup her left breast. I pinched her nipple, and Margot’s eyes closed as a low moan escaped her lips. My hands traveled around her back and began to work the top down. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her tits bounced out into my waiting hands. Her nipples were resplendent purple spheres, and I leaned up, taking one into my mouth, feeling her skin retract and harden even further.

“Tarinnnnnnn,” she groaned, letting my name roll over her tongue gutturally. 

Still sucking, nibbling, kissing her breasts, I let one of my hands wander down under her overalls and cup her ass. I felt lace and satin. I traced my palm over the sphere of one cheek and moved slowly, lingering over the crease between and letting my thumb travel up and down her crack. 

I pulled back, holding her face in my hands. She slipped her overalls off, throwing them beneath the tangled leaves of the closest bush. She sat back down in the dirt, raspberries smooshing beneath her legs and leaving trails of juice over the backs of her thighs. I held her and laid her down. She stretched her arms over her head and arched her back, cat-like. Her legs were spread. There was a wet patch blooming in the crotch of her panties and her hips were shaking subtly. 

I began by kissing her calves, lapping up the remnants of berry and juice. It mixed with the saline of her skin, and I went higher. Her thighs, full landscapes – thick and supple. I nuzzled my cheeks against them, drank her in. I licked and bit, playfully. She was emitting a long groan, barely audible. I moved up and bit her clit softly through her underwear, just to keep her on edge. Her hips buckled and she screamed lightly before clamping her hand over her mouth. 

I pulled the crotch of her panties to the side and began kissing the area of skin where leg joined to hip. She moaned. I kissed and dragged my tongue over the wetness of her slit. Still, the flavor of berries and salt. I moved a hand up and began working her clit with my thumb. With my other hand I moved a finger inside of her, another, and watched her face as it twitched with pleasure. I bent back down, taking her clit in my mouth, working my tongue in circles around it, sucking. I filled her hole with my tongue as far as it would go, and let her fluids drench my mouth. I swallowed. Those berries had nothing on her sweetness.

My knees were digging into dirt, bees humming around us. I felt the warmth of summer sun on my back. I leaned back and guided Margot into flipping over on all fours.

“How do you feel about me eating your ass?” I asked. 

She looked back at me, grinning. 

“Why don’t you find out?”

I leaned in and began tracing my tongue over the top of her ass, letting it slip down toward her crack then back up, teasing her. She pushed backwards, shoving her cheeks against my face, so I went with it and buried myself between them, letting her shove and rub her fullness all up over me. I pulled back for air. Holy shit. Back in. This time I went right for it, kissing her anus softly and then circling it with my tongue. Circling, circling. Her ridges contracted against my tongue and her groan increased to a primal wail. I reached forward and slipped one finger into her pussy, in and out, then began working her clit. I buried my face further in until my whole mouth was filled with her flesh. 

I flipped over onto my back and ate her pussy from underneath. Her back stretched and her legs shook. Her cum began to drip down my cheeks, and still I ate. I sucked at her clit and finger fucked her slit. One finger, two, three, four. She took four of my fingers as my neck craned upwards, starved for more of her sweet juices. Slurping, swallowing. My tongue flicked manically as though possessed by an otherworldly force. With my fingers I could feel her muscles inside beginning to contract. I knew she was close. She came forcefully, her thighs clenching the sides of my head and the front of her body collapsing into the dirt. We remained like that, her ass skyward and my head still buried between her legs until finally her body shook one last time and her thighs released me. I stumbled back, dizzy with cum and the tingle of making another person orgasm fiercely.

I lay in the dirt, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. My entire face was absolutely lacquered with cum and juice mixing together, becoming a sticky sheen. Margot must have seen me pawing at my face, trying to do some sort of cleanup, because she laughed and climbed on top of me. She licked at me, and for a second we were like two animals in the mud, frantically attending to one another’s body. 

Licking my face devolved into kissing me, my lips, my neck. She moved lower. Somehow I was still clothed, and she shimmied off my pants and briefs with an expert finesse. The sensation of dirt against my skin brought me back into my body. Stones pressed against my ass cheeks and vines wound beneath my back. And berries. Oh, the berries. Fucking like this against the earth felt like home. 

I gasped when her tongue darted against my clitoris, and when she slid a finger into me I could feel the cold metal of the ring she wore against my insides. She ate me, and when I looked down I could see a pool of my cum mixing into the dirt beneath my ass, making mud. I took a finger full of it and traced it over my stomach, marking myself. I leaned my head back and gave myself over to the sensation of her pleasuring me. My pussy lips swole, and as she lapped against me my body began to hum. She was cooing, making little groans of pleasure that were giving me shivers. Beneath my head soil was mixing into my hair, and I could feel the warmth of the sun on my pussy, the insides of my thighs. I looked to my right and noticed a pail of the berries we’d picked had been knocked over and spilled across the ground. I took a raspberry and put it in my mouth. Margot was working me, working me. The earth spun. I came as I swallowed fruit, sensation flooding my body and confusing my senses. My clit was my mouth was my backbone was my soul. Pleasure coursed through me and a frenetic tremor made my body spasm against Margot’s mouth.

She pulled back, grinning, her face glistening in the sun. I stretched my arms overhead and wiggled my hips against the dirt, legs still spread.

“Holy shit, Margot. My whole body feels like it’s on some other shit right now. Are you a drug? Holy fuck.”

She laughed, laying her head against my stomach. We looked at each other, dust and mud and berries mashed against every inch of our bodies. 

“Did we even manage to salvage a pail full?” she asked. 

I nuzzled into her, spooning her against the earth.

“Nah, but don’t worry. There’s always blackberry season.”