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I remember all the rumors from my childhood. She was a man that dressed like a woman. She had both male and female sex organs. A man that had fake tits. All kinds of dirty stories and whispers. I was a kid then. Now I was in community college and needed a source of income. She had a help-wanted ad in the newspaper. Her shop was only a mile from home so I thought, “What the hell?”“Hey, Miss Walker,” I said into the phone, “This is Terry Harvey. I saw your ad in the help wanted.”“Are you one of Charles’ boys?” she asked. “Yes ma’am,” I answered, “I’m the youngest.”“I’ve done a bunch of work for your dad over the years. He has some beautiful horses. Why don’t you come on over? We can go over what I need you to do.”“I’ll be over in a few minutes,” I told her then hung up. I told my mom where I was going then jumped in my old F-One Hundred. Just a five-minute drive and I slammed the rusty old truck into park and walked to the open door of her shop. “Miss Walker, ” I called.“Come on in,” she shouted over the noise of a grinder. “Call me Annie,” she said as she held out a hand.“Annie, ” I said, as I shook hands with her, surprised at her tight calloused grip. She wore her black hair tied up in an old red bandana, a sweaty blue tee shirt, and knee-length cut-off jeans. Her face and hands were covered in black grease or soot. It was hard to tell. Her arms were not huge but muscular. She waved me in and turned to lead me. I noticed the muscles of her calves. Tightly toned. She was in her fifties but very fit. A fleur-di-lis tattoo on her left calf and crossed hammers on her right.There were hundreds of horseshoes hanging on pipes along the walls. Hammers, pliers, punches, and all manner of blacksmith tools. There was a forge running in a corner of the metal building, fire erupting from the opening. Bars of metal and round stock in bins and barrels along another wall. Several anvils of different sizes were mounted on concrete-filled drums lined up in the center.“I need a helper or even an apprentice,” she began, “I’m not as young as I used to be.” She picked up a hammer and pulled a bar of stock that glowed yellow from the hot forge and started shaping it on an anvil. “The work is hot, hard, and heavy. The pay will suck until I know you have what it takes to learn to do the job. I can work with your school schedule if you can work late hours and weekends.”I was eighteen years old and had never been afraid of hard work. Dad had a ranch and worked my brothers and me like our lives depended on it. I remember Annie shoeing horses for him for years. I nodded and told her I wanted to give it a try. I watched as she hammered the metal stock into shape on the anvil until it was too cool to work. At that point, she put it back into the forge to heat it back to working temperature. I looked around and asked if she had made all those horseshoes. “I used to,” she answered, “I buy them now, then fit them at the job site. Now, I make tools for other smiths. I’m more into making knives and swords now.”“Swords?” I grinned.She took the metal out of the forge again and began to hammer it. I could see it taking shape. She was making a knife. I watched in amazement at the technique she used to shape the curves of the blade and handle. I watched her strong arm as she pounded the hammer over and over onto the firey metal she held with her tongs.As Ataşehir Escort she worked, the piece of metal cooled to a red color. She put it back into the forge again, “You don’t want to cold work a piece of steel,” she said, “It will begin to microcrack and the tool will fail.”With hands on her hips, she stretched back, causing her sweat-soaked tee shirt to tighten across her chest. Naturally, I noticed her nipples standing proud on top of the small swells of her breasts. They stood erect and long. My eyes lingered a bit longer because hers were closed. I had never looked at her in this way. When I was a kid, I made fun of her with the other boys. Up close, yeah, she was a little masculine, but she was still a woman. Her breasts were not huge, but they were there. Her hips were narrow, almost like a man’s, but her ass was nice. Her arms and legs were muscular, but she swung that hammer every day. She was not a beauty queen, but she had a friendly smile. I quickly diverted my eyes before she caught me staring.After she finished hammering the yellow hot piece of metal into the shape of a knife, she offered a tour of the shop. I listened as she explained the different types of metals that lay in various bins.   I learned the basics of how a forge works, the process of shaping a piece from beginning to end, and the importance of proper heat treatment. She walked me through the differences in blacksmithing, blade smithing, and farrier work. I followed her from the forge to the finishing room. She explained the processes of adding handles, guards, pommels, and bolsters to knives and swords. Finally, she took me into her office where we went over tax information and my school schedule. She told me to wear comfortable clothes that I didn’t mind messing up. “A tee shirt and jeans or shorts like I’m wearing,” Annie said, “I can work around your schedule. I need to know if you’re okay with late nights and weekends.”“Yes ma’am,” I affirmed, “If I have exams to study for, I will let you know in advance.”“Cool,” she said with a smile, “Looks like you can start tomorrow afternoon.”“I’ll be here as soon as I get out of class.”“Go home first,” she said, “Change clothes and get something to eat. We have a job over in Leesville. Going to be a late night.”We shook hands and I hurried home to get some studying done. After dinner, I jumped into the shower and then hit the sack early. It was going to be a long day so I wanted to get some rest. I found myself picturing her in my mind as she stretched, her tank top tightening over her breasts. Her nipples straining against the thin sweaty material. What would the guys think if they knew? I was hard. I pictured Annie as she pulled that dirty tee shirt over her head, exposing her breasts. My hand squeezed my throbbing shaft. In my mind she stood naked, pinching her nipples. I slowly stroked my dick under the sheets. She looked into my eyes as her fingers twisted and pulled her nipples. My eyes trailed southward on her body. I pictured a dark triangle of curly hair between her muscular thighs. It was damp with sweat and the flow of her excitement. I watched as she slipped a hand from her breast and slowly down her body. I stroked my cock faster as my fantasy continued. I took time to push my boxers halfway down my thighs. Cupping my balls with my left Ataşehir Escort Bayan hand, I continued stroking with my right. My mind’s eye watched as she knelt in front of me, taking my cock into her mouth. Her dirty hands gripped my ass as she took my length into her throat. Her nose pressed into my belly as she swallowed every inch of my sex. She looked up at me as she worked up and down my shaft. Her brown eyes seemed to hypnotize me. I felt my balls start to tighten and draw into my groin. I came to myself as I began to pump my seed into the night. It was too late to stop myself. I felt the warm, sticky fluid on my belly and my fingers. I came hard and drenched my sheets. My head spun as I tried to coax every drop out of my balls. As my orgasm faded and I caught my breath, I flung the sheets off and stumbled to my bathroom.  After cleaning myself up and changing my sheets, I turned in for the night. Aside from an unconscious dream or two, I slept well until waking to the alarm of my bedside clock.It was another hot day. School dragged on and on but finally, it was time to go. I sped home, changed into some old clothes, and ate lunch. Throwing a  few bottled waters and a bag of chips into my old Ford, I sped to work. Annie was loading her truck when I pulled up.I helped her load the last bucket. It was filled with horseshoes and tools. “Are we going to the Hornsby ranch?” I asked.“Yep,” she answered, “We have eight horses to shoe.”The Hornsby ranch was the largest horse ranch in the area. It would be a thirty-five-mile drive, then however long it would take to do the job. After that, another thirty-five-mile drive back. She wasn’t kidding, it would be a late night. “Did you eat?” Annie asked.“Yes ma’am,” I answered, “I brought a snack and some water.”“Let’s ride,” she said, “Sooner we get there, the sooner we get home.”I tossed my bottles into her cooler and opened the passenger door of her F-two fifty super duty. It was in the nineties so the air conditioning felt good. The first fifteen minutes of the drive were spent chatting, and getting to know each other. I learned a lot about her. She was fifty-eight years old and had never married. She explained that her fiance had been killed in an accident twenty-six years earlier. She had never wanted to go through another loss like that so she had given up on the idea of marriage. There had been other men, but she hadn’t tried to get serious with them.I told her of my present girlfriend and some of my exes. I was not planning on getting married anytime soon so for now it was just fun and games. “You mean sex,” she teased.Never one for shyness, I smiled and replied, “What else?”We drove on for another fifteen minutes in silence. I couldn’t help but notice her nipples, apparently tightened by the cold air conditioning, pressing through the thin material of her shirt. I couldn’t understand what was so attractive about her. I had already masturbated with a fantasy of her. Now I was sneaking peaks at her. She was like three times my age. I had a pretty girlfriend that loved to fuck. Why the hell was I dreaming of Annie like this?The tires clattered across the pipes of a cattle guard as we pulled into the driveway. About three-quarters of a mile of gravel drive and we stopped in front of a large barn. I recognized Mr. Hornsby Escort Ataşehir when he walked out of the building. After a few minutes of small talk and handshakes, he led us to the horses. Annie was a great teacher and had me working non stop for the next three hours. With three horses remaining to service, we took a break. Annie asked me to grab a couple of waters from the cooler. As I fished out the bottles, I noticed several bottles of Coors floating in the icy water. “You’re doing good,” Annie said when I handed her a bottle of water, “Just a few more horses and we are done.”“There is more to it than I thought,” I remarked, “I’m trying to catch on.”“You learn fast,” she answered, “Keep it up and you will be shoeing them without me.”After a couple more hours, we were finally finished. Annie told me to collect the tools and load up. She made out a bill for Mr. Hornsby. We were tired, sweaty, and dirty but we were finished. As I slammed the tailgate shut, Annie tossed her invoice book on the backseat and said, “I’m going to wash my face. There is a hose by the fence if you want to clean up.”I followed her to the bib and opened the valve. She let the water run over and down her strong arms then handed me the hose. I let the water cool my arms as she rubbed her palms up and down hers, loosening the grime. She cupped her hands and I filled them with water. She used the water to rinse the dirt from her hands and arms then cupped them again. I filled her hands with the cool liquid and watched her splash her face. The red bandana that she wore to keep her hair tied up darkened as the water soaked into its edges. I filled her hands two more times and she repeated the process for me. Finally, we secured the hose and walked to the truck. I sat in the passenger seat and pulled the door shut. Annie went to the cooler and grabbed a couple of bottles. “You like Coors?” she asked as she climbed in, offering me a bottle.“Yes ma’am,” I answered, taking the cold wet bottle from her hand. After taking her work shirt off, she cranked the truck and we were on the road. The beer was cold and refreshing. Again we chatted about the job and the techniques of properly shoeing a horse. I paid close attention. I wanted to do a good job for her. After a while, we ran out of things to talk about so I sat quietly drinking my beer and glancing at her. She had cut the sleeves from her baggy tee shirt and the side of her breast was visible almost to her nipple which was evident against the sweaty material. Turning up her beer, he could see the tone of her muscularity. Hard, heavy work does that to people.Catching his eye when she put her beer down, she raised an eyebrow, “What?” She asked, “Is there something on me?”He had noticed that when she turned up her beer, her nipple had popped out and was still exposed. I quickly looked away when she looked down to notice what I had seen. Hooking her shirt with her thumb, she covered her breast and apologized, “Oops. That’s the last thing a guy wants to see from an old bitty like me. Sorry.”“You aren’t an old bitty,” I said, laughing, “Gravity has been kind to you.”“I’m certainly not a college girl,” she laughed, “That was many moons ago.”“I mean, you got some miles on you,” I said, “But you ain’t no old bitty. That’s all I’m saying.”“With miles come dents and dings, but the girls still hang in there,” she laughed, hefting her right tit with her hand and then letting it drop against her chest.”Like I already said, I wasn’t one for shyness, so I said, “Don’t worry, the girls are hanging in there very nicely.”“You little pervert,” she laughed.“Hey, you’re the one flashing me and playing with them over there.”

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