Apple Pickers

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Apple Pickers

CAUTION: This is a love story.



Apple Pickers


Each picking season it is always hard for me to realize that there really is a need for cheap disposable labor. Migrant workers serve a valuable need. These modern day nomads travel from crop to crop at harvest season up and down to coast. They can pick green beans one week, fresh blueberries the next week, and ripe apples a month later. They just show up. You don’t have to tell them when the fruit is ripe or even ask them to come. They just show up, ask for work, and get out into the fields. Many farmers have gone to machines over the years but picking apples is not one of them. My picking season is about six weeks long and it requires a lot of pickers. I easily put a hundred or more to work in my orchards.

I am the forth generation to own and operate this land. It has been in my family for over a hundred years now. My father used to tell me about the blacks that would come and pick in his orchards every year. He got to know his workers over the seasons and could count on them showing up. My grandfather used to tell us of the Great Depression when the poor whites would beg him for work. Now in my generation the blacks and the whites don’t want to do the job anymore for the wages that I can afford so the Mexicans have filled the need. The biggest problem that I have is that we don’t speak the same language. That is a problem that my father and his father before him didn’t have. To hear my grandfather talk about some of those blacks from the deep south he could hardly understand them himself. They had a slow southern drawl that you really had to get used too.

When the Dutch settled on Long Island, when the Italians dug the Erie Canal, and when the Polish arrived they all wanted to learn the language of their new home, English. They were proud immigrants to this vast country. They became proud citizens and wanted better for their children than they had in the old country. Now a days the Mexicans cross into this country illegally and they don’t want to learn to speak our language either. Times have sure changed.

This year was no different. Just as the apples were ripening on the trees the Mexicans started arriving. Old pickup trucks full of Mexican migrant workers came. Whole families living in their old station wagons arrived. Most could not understand me but others helped to translate.

Their sleeping quarters were a couple of pole barns where the empty crates are stored in the off season. The first thing that happens is that the crates are removed so that the workers can set up their sleeping quarters in the buildings. The boxes are then positioned around the area to be picked first. The ladders, baskets, and other things are also put into position. I hardly have anything to say about it. They know what needs to be done and they do it.

The hard part is getting their names and copies of their work papers for my records. The Government is trying to crack down on the illegal immigrants but way up here in the north it hardly seems to matter all that much.

A couple of days later an older couple with an attractive daughter arrived. The daughter was Guadalupe and she spoke English very well. That was a first for me. When I asked to see their green cards and work papers she started making up excuses. I could tell that she was lying. Their papers were lost, they were stolen, or they burned up in a fire. This had to be the most pitiful excuse that I had heard lately. I told Guadalupe that I couldn’t hire them if the didn’t have papers. Guadalupe said that half of the workers in my orchard were illegal. When I asked her to point them out so that I could get rid of them she refused. As a last ditch effort Guadalupe offered herself sexually if I would permit her and her parents to stay and work. They were flat broke and needed this job desperately. I believed her and asked her why she had offered herself to me. She explained that at least once at each new harvest she and her mother would be raped by other workers. It was a way of life for a Mexican migrant worker. Sometimes it was the landowner himself or his foreman that would rape them but mostly it was the other workers that would catch them alone. There was nothing that could be done about it either. If they told the police they would be deported. She said that it would be better to give it away for work than to be taken by force. She was very beautiful so I said okay. I didn’t care if she gave me sex or not I just gave in to her beauty and to her pleading.

When Guadalupe explained her offer to her parents her father got mad and spoke a mile a minute. Her mother Juanita was able to calm him down. Her father walked away. Juanita and Guadalupe talked and Guadalupe would translate it for me. Juanita pretty much said what Guadalupe had told me about how dangerous it was for the women in the fields and orchards because of all of the rapes that took place and that young attractive girls like her daughter were easy prey. She begged me to be gentle with Guadalupe and kissed my hand. Juanita joined her husband and headed toward the orchard silently.

Guadalupe stayed behind to once again offer her sexual services to me. I brought her inside to talk. Guadalupe was seventeen years old and the youngest of all of Juanita’s children. Guadalupe had been born in this country and had been brought up on both Spanish and English. She explained that most of my workers understood what I say but chose to let on that they didn’t. She strongly suggested that I learn to speak Spanish. She was right! I should! Sometimes we look down on a foreigner but they know two languages while most of us have trouble with just English.

I told Guadalupe that I was thirty years old and that I had inherited the land from my father. He had died the previous year when he fell out of a tree and broke his neck. I was the last of the line. I had no brothers and sisters and no parents or grandparents. This land had been a hard life but that each generation had endured it. Now it was my turn!

Guadalupe had maturity beyond her years. She had a good head on her shoulders too. I could talk to her so easily that it was as if we were old friends. The more she talked the more I listened. She told me about her dream for an ideal apple orchard. She made absolute sense.

Part of what my father and grandfather had taught me was to feed my workers well and that food and shelter was part of their pay. That way I could give them less money and they would still be happy to work for me.

Feeding a hundred workers was no small task. Guadalupe helped me organize a kitchen staff. Of course it included her parents and several of the younger more attractive women. She told me outright that it was to help protect them from being raped. Tacos were the main meal for lunch and apparently for dinner too. Guadalupe and Juanita were definitely in charge in the food service department.

When lunch was ready word spread and the workers came in from the orchard. Guadalupe’s father talked to a few of the other men then got rather excited. When I asked Guadalupe what was going on she said that her father had worked with a few of the men before and that they were bad men. They didn’t work very well and they were responsible for many of the rapes on the younger women. I took Guadalupe by the hand and walked over to the commotion. As we approached things quieted down. I asked Guadalupe to tell me what her father was saying. She repeated the fact that three of the men were bad workers and bad human beings too. I told her to fire them for me and she did. The men just laughed at me but her father and a few of the other men stood up to them and saw to it that the men left with their pay for the work done. I then put Guadalupe’s father in charge as my foreman. That was the first time that I saw him smile. I told Guadalupe to put her mother in charge of the kitchen. This time Guadalupe smiled and said that her mother had already taken that job on her own. Now I smiled.

It was time to celebrate. For the first time in weeks I felt like I could handle the job of being boss but only if Guadalupe and her parents would help me. The tacos were way too hot and spicy for my taste but the workers ate them up. Apparently Juanita was a very good cook. Everyone went back to the orchard with only a few staying behind to clean up. When things were set I sat Juanita and Guadalupe down to talk. I also showed them the foreman’s quarters. They had never lived in a real house before and didn’t know what to say. They cried! I told them that I needed year round help but not too many. I hoped that they would stay on with me and help prune the tress, plant new ones, and help keep them safe. It was a done deal. Juanita ran out to tell her husband the good news.

Guadalupe took me back into my house. She really wanted to repay me with sex. I could not resist her beauty and her passion any more. Besides I had been very horny for way too long. I took Guadalupe up to my bedroom. She was very impressed. As she undressed it was my turn to be very impressed. She was a flawless creature. In Spanish Guadalupe means Mother of God. She was truly an Angle of Mercy. She had changed my life the moment that she had walked into it. Her dark complexion, her dark hair, and her dark eyes were a stark comparison to my last girlfriend who had been a blue eyed blonde that had lily white skin. Guadalupe was the exotic beauty that I had always dreamed of. As she stood before me naked offering herself to me I had to ask myself why. Why had this wonderful girl come into my life? Why did everything seem right with the world? Why was I no longer nervous about my farm? The answer was Guadalupe! I was sure that my Guardian Angel had sent her to me. So I made love to Guadalupe as if I was making love to a real angel. I kissed her very passionately, I stroked her beautiful raven hair, and I gently touched her perky breasts. Her nipples were almost black, her areolas were a dark chocolate brown, and I wanted to worship them. Guadalupe let me. I had never before been this much in love with a woman and I had only known her for a few hours. I kissed my way down her belly and to her curly black pubic hair. I tried to kiss each and every hair individually. I inhaled her womanly aroma and it excited me very much. She was not very clean and I was sure of that. I couldn’t see Guadalupe taking a shower every day or a bubble bath at all but I didn’t care. I buried my nose in her womanhood. I kissed her pussy like I had never kissed one before. I got between her legs and she opened them up wide for me. I opened her pussy lips up and took in her inner beauty too. Her skin was so dark and her pubic hair was so black that her inner pink cavity seemed to glow. I was lost inside her body for several minutes. My past flashed before my eyes and then the future started to unwrap itself to me. Looking into Guadalupe’s pussy was looking into a crystal ball. I had to have this beauty and not just for this moment or even this harvest I needed to have this women in my life forever and ever. As I kissed my way up her body my cock found its own way into her. It was a bonding like no other. My desire was that of pure love. There was no lust as there had been with other girls. Making love to Guadalupe was just like breathing. It was so natural that I hardly knew what was happening. Then I came! I heard a soft voice whisper in my ear! When I opened up my eyes Guadalupe was smiling at me and stroking my hair. My head was nestled between her breasts and she was kissing my face. Two hours had passed by. It was time to check on things in the orchard. Guadalupe watched as I got dressed. I told her to take a long bubble bath and that my mother had left behind a shelf full of things that smell good and for her to help herself to them.

I went out and checked on Juanita. She had a very big smile on her face. I could tell that she was very happy and that everything in the kitchen was just fine. It looked like we were having tacos again for dinner. I went down to my cellar and brought up a five-gallon jug of hard apple cider and a couple of bottles of Apple Jack to celebrate with. Apple Jack is what happens when a barrel of hard cider freezes in the winter. You poke a hole down through the ice that forms into the liquid center and drain off the pure alcohol that has formed.

Then I went out into the orchard. Pedro, Guadalupe’s father had everything well under control. I hadn’t seen things run that smoothly in years. So I returned to Guadalupe. She was still in the bathtub and she looked very radiant. She said that she could live like this forever. I told her that I wanted her too. I asked her to move into my house with me. I even told her that she could have a bedroom of her own. Then she told me that she wanted to sleep with me if I would let her. Let her hell I wanted her to sleep with me forever.

That evening I got to eat a few tacos with my crew. Juanita had made a small batch of meat just for me that was not too spicy. I really enjoyed it. After dinner was over I started filling glasses with the hard apple cider while Guadalupe passed them out. Then I took one of my bottles of Apple Jack and starting with Pedro added a little extra punch to his glass. Then I toasted our new relationship. Next I handed him the bottle to share with his crew.

When I rejoined Guadalupe she was the center of attention. I just listened to her as she jabber away. Then Guadalupe asked me if the women could use my bathtub. Of course they could. Then I asked if she needed some more smelly stuff. Guadalupe laughed and said that they would make due with what they had. I told her that they didn’t need to make due and that I wanted them all to be happy. Guadalupe said that was not the way it was supposed to be. I informed her that it was the way that it was supposed to be. Guadalupe gave me a hug and a kiss right in front of everyone and I kissed her too for a very long time. That started a whole round of jabbering again.

Guadalupe took a couple of the other girls her age into the house. She showed them where the bathroom was and where the bath stuff was kept. Then she left them to take their baths. Guadalupe returned to me and said that we could use some more bath supplies. Juanita said that she needed more groceries too. I left Pedro in charge and took his two women into town.

We got all of the bath supplies that fifty women would need for a whole month. Juanita just loved shopping at the grocery store. Apparently she liked the freshness of their vegetables. After all she certainly had seen her fair share of ripe produce in her life. We left the grocery store with three shopping carts full of vegetables, eggs, flour, and ground beef. She was in heaven. My van was pretty full.

Things had settled down quite a bit by the time we had gotten home. Pedro had let the men use the shower in his quarters and had sent them off to bed. It would be an early morning. Juanita put things away and headed off to bed herself. For her it was an even earlier morning. She had to get breakfast started to feed everyone. As we passed the bathroom we heard voices. Guadalupe peeked in and spoke to the girls then closed the door. She told me that most of the women had taken a quick bath but that a few of the teenagers had wanted to soak and enjoy the water even though it wasn’t hot anymore. They had obviously run out of hot water. She laughed because there were three girls in the tub playing like little kids. I laughed and said that I wished that I could see that. So Guadalupe poked her head back in the bathroom door and asked them. The next thing I knew the door was opened fully and Guadalupe was pushing me inside. There were the three girls about her age sitting in my bathtub facing me. There were plenty of bubbles on the surface of the water but all of their tits were exposed for me to see.

They could speak English almost as well as Guadalupe could. They agreed that I was the nicest landowner that they had met yet. Guadalupe told them that I was a wonderful lover too. I told her that it was because I was in love with her. The other girls laughed and teased her. Soon the other three girls were standing up in the tub right in front of me. They were all different but in a way they were all the same too. Their skin, their dark hair, and their dark complexion were all similar. Even their voices sounded similar but Guadalupe’s voice had a special charm to it. I watched the three girls dry off and get dressed then I took Guadalupe to bed.

Making love to her seemed more urgent that time. I assumed that it was because of the three charming young ladies that had been nude in front of me for the past several minutes. As Guadalupe undressed I watched her with a new awakening. I was enjoying Guadalupe’s company and her sweet body. This time I kissed her softly, I sucked on her nipples, and I kissed her pussy before getting between her legs and slipping my cock into her. Guadalupe put her feet around me and gave me a little love squeeze. I placed my hands palm down on the bed under her armpits and smiled at her. Then I started rocking my hips and thrusting my cock up into her. I looked into Guadalupe’s eyes. They were dark but they were bright in the light of the room. I had thought about turning the lights off but I really wanted to see her beauty for just as long as I could. Guadalupe didn’t mind in the least. She rubbed my chest, she rubbed my sides, and she rubbed my back as I made love to her. As I got going faster, I moved my arms up to cup the back of her head resting my weight on my elbows and on her breasts. In that position Guadalupe could only rub the upper part of my shoulders but she soon rested her arms up over her head allowing me to own her body in that position. She was all mine! I could sense her oncoming orgasm. Her eyes slowly closed, she smiled sweetly at me, and her breasts thrust up into my chest as she breathed deeply. As she started to shimmer and shake all over I started to cum inside her too. We had one mutual climax that we both shared with the other. I rolled to one side and cuddled Guadalupe into me as I fell asleep.

She woke me up just as the sun was coming through the window. We took a nice hot shower together and went down to breakfast. Juanita and her crew had baked fresh bread and had made enough omelets to feed everyone. As soon as the men were ready Pedro sent them off to work. Soon most of the women followed too. Guadalupe helped her mother and a couple of the girls from last night to clean up. Then they all left to work in the fields too so I joined them too. I couldn’t stand to have Guadalupe out of my sight.

I was sure that Pedro was getting more apples picked with fewer people than I had ever remembered. The picking would still take six weeks because that was how long the majority of the apples would take to ripen.

At the end of the six weeks Pedro kept three of the families on to keep picking as the fruit ripened on the trees. After another four weeks he let them go too.

We then went around with a machine that picked up the fallen apples from the ground. They were bruised and damaged but they sure make great apple cider. Grandfather had bought a press years ago and it still worked just fine.

It had been a very profitable harvest, in fact one of our best ever, and I was very pleased. I gave Pedro a bonus for the great work that he had done and that pleased him.

Before the next harvest I had gotten a copy of Guadalupe’s birth certificate along with Juanita’s and Pedro’s birth certificates. I also got a copy of their marriage license too. Plus Guadalupe turned eighteen and she and I were married. Juanita and Pedro were on their way to becoming citizens too and were legal for the first time ever. Besides they had a permanent residence…mine. They had moved into my home right after harvest. We converted the foreman’s house into a dorm for the younger women and we installed bigger water heaters too.

That following harvest Pedro was waiting for familiar faces. He and I had traveled to a few of the other harvests that took place before my apples were ready. He asked certain families to be sure and come to work for him. I knew that it was going to be another great harvest.

Oh yes and Guadalupe announced that she was pregnant.


The End
Apple Pickers
122


AUTHOR’S COMMENT’S:

I realize that this is not entirely fair since I am back to turning off your comments. However you can click on my name at the top of this or any of my stories and leave me a personal note.

About this story: I believe that America needs to secure the boarder between Mexico and us. Illegal immigrants should not be allowed. It is an insult to all my relatives that came into this country legally. They had to live here for five years and give up their allegiance to their old country to become a citizen. It is not fair to them to allow someone to just sneak in and have the same privileges.

Besides if you can’t stop a poor Mexican peasant from getting in what chance do you stand keeping out well trained terrorists?


The End
Apple Pickers
122

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