The summer of 1970 was the time, and the place was Holland Patent in rural central New York State.
Arthur Connors was a recently retired man of 65 with a lot of time on his hands, and after his wife of 36 years had passed away a couple of years ago, that time seemed to pass more slowly.
Deciding to take up gardening, Art cleared out the area near the fence out back that divided his property from the Miller’s spread next door, and began planting tomatoes.
“Who knows?” Art said sarcastically to no one as he looked at the long strip of soil that he was going to use. “Maybe come August I’ll be out front with a table full of them, selling the finished product to all the swarms of people traveling on this dusty road. Make me a fortune.”
Chapter One: A new friend.
Art hadn’t seen the girl approach, so intent was he with his tomato plants, so when the young lady said hello, Art jumped in surprise.
“Hi, Mr. Connors,” the neighbor girl had said and then apologised for scaring him.
“No, that’s okay,” Art said, shielding his eyes from the sun so he could look at the girl. “I was deep in thought about how long it was going to take me to kill these things off. Karen, right?”
“Yeah,” the girl said as she leaned her elbows on the old fence.
“Haven’t seen much of you lately,” Art said. “We used to get a kick out of you and that Anderson boy running around playing soldiers. Where’s he at these days?”
“He’s in the Air Force,” Karen said.
“Air Force?” Art said, trying to figure out why they would take a kid in the service, and then as he looked over at the chubby girl on the other side of the fence, he realized that he must be slipping, because this young lady was no kid anymore.
“Bet you’re glad that school’s out. What grade are you going into next year?” Art asked, trying not to stare at Karen’s body.
“I’m done with school, Mr. Connors,” Karen explained. “Graduated last month.”
“Oh gee,” Art said, taking off his cap and wiping his brow. “Where did the years go? Congratulations. You going to college?”
“Community college,” Karen said. “That’s all we can afford.”
“It’ll do for a start.”
“Anything is better than hanging around here,” Karen said as she looked out over the field at the railroad tracks in the distance. “Nobody is ever around and there’s nothing to do.”
“That’s Holland Patent for you,” Art said. “Not exactly a hot bed of activity. Probably why most young folks take off first chance they get. That’s why I decided to try and grow tomatoes – just to help pass the time.”
“If I’m bothering you or anything, just tell me, okay Mr. Connors?” Karen said.
“No no no!” Art said, a tad too eagerly, but his young neighbor didn’t seem to notice, or if she did she didn’t care. “Bothering me? Just the opposite. The only thing is, you can’t be calling me Mr. Connors any more. After all, you’re a woman now. Call me Art, or Arthur.”
“Okay – Arthur,” Karen said. “I like Arthur better. Sounds very dignified.”
“With me knee deep in fertilizer and dirt, that’s not easy to pull off, but I’ll try,” Art said, and as he fiddled with the garden he got to know his neighbor.
Karen was eighteen – just turned, she informed Arthur, and when he asked her if she had a party or anything for her birthday Karen laughed.
“I went down to the store and bought some quarts of Utica Club, and me and Nancy Stoddard went down to the creek and got drunk,” Karen explained with a laugh. “She got sick.”
Eighteen, Art thought as he stole glimpses at the chubby girl by the fence. If I was 18 I’d be all over that sweet thing before she knew what hit her.
Karen wasn’t an stunning beauty by any means, but she had a nice smile and a pleasant face. She was plump, but that wasn’t something that had ever bothered him. Alice had been chubby most of her life, and she was a real cutie.
Karen was thick around the middle, but she had a lot in the other places as well. She was a busty young thing, Art observed as he took peeks at the breasts that seemed to be straining the fabric of the checkered blouse Karen wore, and her denim shorts were tight enough to reveal a lush bottom.
Karen’s calves were plump as well, but not flabby, and the same could be said for the girl’s arms, which were bare up to nearly the shoulder, where the sleeves had been torn off.
Art turned away when Karen’s eyes came back in his direction, and he felt like a dirty old man when he realized that he had been mentally undressing the poor girl while she stood there the picture of innocence.
Just before Karen declared that she was going to go up to her house to do some laundry, Art saw something that made him smile. He had been peeking up Karen’s ragged sleeve, trying to figure out if she was wearing a bra or not (she was), and as he leered Karen leaned back a little bit while hanging onto the fence.
In doing so, Art was not only given the answer to his wondering about the undergarment situation, but got a brief glimpse at a most luxuriant tuft of hair that filled Karen’s armpit.
Not five o’clock shadow or just stubble that would have been the product of not shaving for a few days either, but a thick dense spray of dark brown fur that stood out starkly against the pale white expanse of her underarm. Although the peek was far too brief for his taste it was enough to bring back memories of Alice, and when Art wiped his eyes again it wasn’t because of the sweat.
“See ya!” Art had replied when Karen finally turned and walked through her yard towards her house, and as his eyes took in the full buttocks as they swayed with her walk, Art noticed something else that he hadn’t experienced in a while.
“Good grief,” Arthur mumbled as he reached down to adjust himself in his boxers. “Damn old pervert getting all excited over some hippie girl.”
Chapter Two: Daily ritual.
What followed after that first meeting was a daily ritual. Without fail, Karen would come out and join him, chatting over the fence for anywhere between 15 minutes and an hour.
The length of the conversation depended on the weather in part, but it was never long enough to suit Art, who found the young girl’s intelligence and frankness a breath of fresh air, and usually managed to stretch out the conversation when Karen was dressed provocatively.
Provocatively might not be the right word, because Karen always dressed modestly and entirely appropriately, but when she wore blouses like that one with the cutoff sleeves, or another one just like it in faded blue denim, Art found a way to keep Karen a bit longer than she might have wanted.
The brief glimpses of the fabric of her bra under the blouse, and those constant peeks at the hair under Karen’s arms, never failed to get Art’s attention.
He found himself blushing on more than one occassion when Karen seemed to catch him peeking up her sleeve, but she probably figured him to be a harmless old pervert, which was probably correct, or so Art figured by this time.
Maybe not entirely harmless, Art mused as he tried to get his stiff cock to behave in his boxers. Not entirely.
Chapter Three: Rock bottom.
Arthur Connors stood in front of the sink in the dark bathroom, the only sound what his hand made as it moved rapidly up and down the length of his cock. The squishing sound was a result of the Cornhuskers Lotion that he had filled his palm with, in order to lubricate his member.
He hadn’t masturbated in years, but after being with Karen out in the yard that day, he found himself unable to sleep, because he couldn’t get the image of that precious creature out of his mind, as the way she innocently leaned over the fence kept haunting him.
Karen had been wearing that same checkered blouse with the cutoff sleeves she had worn that first day a couple of weeks ago, but this time she looked different.
Probably because of the heat, Arthur figured, but this morning Karen wasn’t wearing a bra under that red and white blouse, and Art could tell right away because her breasts looked even bigger and fuller than usual without the harness they were always shackled in.
Her nipples had been poking at the cotton fabric at one point, and as Art replayed that vision in his mind – sweet innocent Karen brushing the hair away from her cheek and exposing all of her natural beauty to his lecherous eyes without her knowing how he felt, he cried out as his loins tingled, his knees buckling while he leaned against the sink for support.
As his orgasm finally subsided, Art could see in the murky light the wads of his spunk that he had deposited in the sink, and he quickly ran hot water in the bowl and scrubbed it for a long time before pulling his boxers back up and going back to bed.
“I’m sorry, Karen,” Art said as he looked out the window at the Miller’s house, where that poor innocent thing was unaware of the thoughts that had been going through his head lately, culminating in that display back there in the bathroom.
“Sorry honey,” he mumbled again, looking at the dim light in an upstairs room, as if she could have known what he was up to over across the field behind the walls.
Karen’s bedroom, Art wondered. What was she doing up there, if it even was her bedroom, that is. Definitely not what he had been up to. Sam and Betty Miller – Karen’s folks – what would they have thought about that? Not much. Sam was a Deacon at church.
I can’t help it. I’m not a senile old fool who hasn’t got a clue as to what was going on around him. Art mused. I’m still a man, a man who is lonely and tired of being alone.
Chapter Four: Early to rise
Arthur went out to the garden early the next day, in part because the temperatures were supposed to be well into the 90’s later, and the heat was simply too much for him to take, but the other reason was Karen. The memory of what he did, jerking off like a lovestruck kid while thinking about Karen, made his skin crawl.
What was worse were the other things that had been going through his head – things that he was too ashamed to admit – so maybe missing a few days of Karen’s visits would help him clear his mind.
The only problem was that every minute that passed had Arthur glancing back towards the Miller place, hoping to see Karen heading out back. He wanted to see her – needed to see her – and even though the heat was making him light-headed he forced himself to stay outside.
Then, like a prayer answered, there she came, wearing the denim top with the sleeveless ripped off, and even from the distance Art could see that she had no bra on again today. Those big, full breasts were swaying as Karen walked, and by the time Karen reached the fence Art’s mind was back in the gutter.
“Early today, huh Arthur?” Karen asked. “I just got out of the shower and peeked out the blinds and saw you out here.”
“Yeah, it’s the heat,” Art said, willing to give anything to have been a fly in her bathroom when she had emerged from the shower. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to take it later on, but I’m glad that you saw me and came out. Wouldn’t be the same out here without you.”
“I’ll bet!” Karen said. “I think it’s more like, here comes that pain in the butt again.”
“No, it’s not. It never has been and never will be,” Art said, his throat catching a bit as he spoke. “If you stopped coming out to visit, I’ll bet half the time I wouldn’t bother coming out here at all. You know that, right?”
“You’re sweet,” Karen said. “And you’re right about the heat. It must be close to 90 already, and it’s only 10:30. Might go up to a 100 at this rate. Look at me, and I just got out of the shower!”
Karen pulled the light cotton blouse away from her and made it flutter. There were damp spots down the front of her blouse and dark rings around the armholes of her top, and when Karen raised her arms to shake her fingers through her shag haircut, Art saw the hair under her arms was pasted to her skin.
“Sorry,” Karen mumbled when she saw Art in a trance and saw where his eyes had been fixated.
“For what?” Art said. “You’re beautiful.”
“Too much sun for you, Art,” Karen giggled. “You must be getting dizzy.”
“This is the kind of day to do what you did the day you turned 18,” Art suggested. “Get some beer and go down to the creek.”
“Want to?” Karen asked, her voice sounding eager.
“I didn’t mean with me,” Art began to say, but caught himself when he saw Karen’s facial expression. “You mean, you would want to?”
“Sure!” Karen said excitedly. “I’ll get the beer.”
“Wait a minute,” Art said. “I can’t be having you do that. I’ll get it and we can go down around noon.”
“Better meet down there,” Karen said, looking up at the house. “Mom might think it’s kinda weird if we go out back there together. Do you know where there’s a little inlet with a big oak tree on the bank? It’s about a quarter mile north of here, across from the no trespassing sign by the tracks?”
“I’ll find it,” Art said. “Noon, right?”
Chapter Five: Hotter than hell.
“Hotter than hell out there,” the old lady running the register at the little grocery said as she rang up the four quarts of Utica Club beer Art put on the counter.
“Sure is,” Art answered, and hell was probably where he was headed, if there was one.
Thankfully the proprietor of the store was busy at the meat counter or else the nosy bastard would have quizzed Art about buying beer, something he never did. Art wasn’t against have a brew at the local tap room, but at home he was content with an bump or two of Old Crow or Jack Daniels from time to time.
The heat was oppressive now, and even though Art had taken a shower before he left the house he was burning up now. although how much of that was because of Karen he did not know.
Arthur worked his way down along the creek, winding his way through the brush for a time until he caught sight of Karen, sitting under the tree on the bank, her feet sitting in the water.
Karen had changed her blouse, much to Art’s dismay, but it was probably better that way. Besides, the breezy peach blouse was very attractive, even if the short sleeves and the buttoned front blocked the view.
“Found you,” Art said, setting the bags down and easing himself down onto the grassy shade under the tree. “Quiet back here. I never came down here before.”
“It’s a special place that I take all my men too,” Karen giggled.
“Yeah,” Karen mumbled as she took the bottles of beer out of the bags and set all but one of them gently in the creek. “Couple times.”
“Well, they were lucky guys,” Art said.
“They were lucky they got away,” Karen suggested.
“You shouldn’t do that so much – put yourself down, I mean, I know you’re only kidding, but still,” Art insisted. “You’re a special girl.”
“I’m a moo cow,” Karen said, reaching into her jeans pocket and pulling out a rusty metal can and bottle opener and waving it. “Always prepared. Want to share each other’s back wash?”
“It would be a pleasure,” Art said, watching Karen take a long sip from the bottle before handing it over to him. “And you’re no cow. You’re a very attractive young lady. Way too good looking to be seen with a old goat like me.”
“You’re not a goat, you’re cute,” Karen said. “You always reminded me of that guy from The Wizard of Oz – the guy behind the curtain.”
“I suppose that’s better than being the Scarecrow.”
“He was cute too. I feel comfortable around you, Arthur,” Karen said. “When I talk, you really listen, and don’t just think I’m a dumb kid. I always wish that our conversations would never end.”
“That’s easy to do,” Art replied. “Just don’t leave when we’re out back and I’ll stay out there all day. You’re great company and you’re smart as a whip.”
“I guess I thought that you kinda liked me,” Karen said softly, almost inaudibly.
“You thought right,” Art said. “You make me wish I was 18 again.”
Karen lifted her head up and smiled shyly, and then as Art watched in disbelief he saw Karen’s hands come up and slowly unbutton her blouse, all the while watching his face for his reaction.
Karen was wearing a pink tank-top underneath her blouse, and when Karen pulled the outer garment off of her shoulders, it became obvious that the frilly little top left little to the imagination.
Art knew that the loud wheezing was coming from him, but he couldn’t help it. Karen’s breasts were even larger than he had imagined, the enormous jugs hanging down to her waist, and all of that creamy white flesh that was now exposed made Art light-headed.
“Sometimes I thought I would catch you trying to peek at me under my clothes, looking at me like you thought I was attractive,” Karen said.
“I was, and you are.”
“I know I’m not – not really – but I liked it when you looked at me that way. You did it in a nice way, not like some men do. Made me tingle all over.”
“I never meant to stare. I couldn’t help myself.”
“I know guys like to look at boobs,” Karen said in a matter-of-fact voice. “That’s why I didn’t wear a bra the last few days. Hoped it would get your attention. Maybe you would figure out that I liked you – a lot.”
“With breasts that are spectacular as yours are,” Art admitted. “It’s hard not to look, but I never dreamed you would think of me as anything but the old guy next door. But to be honest, what first got my attention with you wasn’t your bosom. It was this here.”
Art tried to keep his hand from shaking as he reached over toward Karen, who was leaning a little backward with her hands holding her upright, and gently stroked the wisp of hairs that were peeking out from the fold of her arm.
“Oh jeez,” Karen said, biting her lip and blushing as Art felt his own neck burn. “I know. I can’t believe how hairy I am.”
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you, then or now,” Art said. “I know I’m strange that way, but it’s just that I always found natural women erotic looking, and long ago when I mentioned to my Alice how much I liked it, she went along with it for me. That’s why seeing you so free and natural is special.”
“That’s how it kind of is with me,” Karen said. “Nancy doesn’t shave, and when she told me that it turned her on, I let my pit hair grow out to keep her interested.”
“Nancy?” Art asked. “The girl you got drunk with on your birthday?”
“Yeah,” Karen said with a shrug.
“You mean Nancy and you are – lesbians?”
“Nancy is, for sure,” Karen said. “I just like Nancy. We’re friends and sometimes lovers when we need each other. I like boys a lot though. More than they like me usually. Are you disgusted knowing that about me?”
“God no. I wish I was your age again,” Art said, shaking his head no as his mind pictured the two young girls expressing their love for each other. “Just for one day. Instead of feeling like an old pervert because he was trying to get a girl to drink enough beer to let me kiss her.”
“It’s been tried back here before,” Karen said. “At least when you came back here with me, I knew you liked me.”
Art started to lean forward at the same time Karen did, and when their lips met Art’s body shivered in response. The kiss started out very sweetly but soon became much more. Karen leaned backward, taking Art with her as they ground into each other while their mouths meshed and their tongues dueled.
“There,” Karen said. “You didn’t need the beer for that. You kiss nice.”
Chapter Six: Nicer.
They kissed again, and after their lips separated Karen was gasping for air. Art leaned over Karen, kissing her moist neck and shoulders, kissing and nibbling around the thin strap of her tank-top while Karen’s massive chest heaved wildly.
Art kissed his way up and down Karen’s plump shoulder several times until he got the nerve to take her right arm from around his neck and hold it down on the grass above her head. Art took a few seconds to gaze at the wild spray of dark brown hair that practically exploded from under Karen’s upraised arm before burying his face in her armpit.
Karen writhed on the grass as Art kissed and licked all over the jungle, and then the kissing turned to nibbling and chewing as the senior citizen became almost feral, the heady cocktail of soap, sweat and pheromones making Art crazy. Art felt Karen’s free hand on the back of his head, pushing his face into her armpit.
“Hope it’s okay, but I’m real hairy down lower too,” Karen gasped, her words as ragged as her breathing, and Arthur’s hand slid down Karen’s body on the way to find out. “Want to see?”
It took a while to get there, because Art couldn’t pass by those magnificent breasts without kneading the gigantic globes. Her nipples were huge, poking out at the fabric of the top like thumbs, and when Art squeezed them Karen let out a soft cry.
The tank top had ridden up out from under the top of her shorts, and the soft skin of Karen’s belly felt warm to the touch as Art fumbled with the button of the denim shorts. Finally, Art lifted his face out from under Karen’s arm and scrambled down to kneel beside the teen.
Even before he got the button undone, Art could see what Karen meant about being hairy down there. Just beneath her deep belly button, a trail of dark brown hairs led downward. Art pulled off the snug shorts as Karen lifted her buttocks, and after he pulled them off of Karen’s chubby legs he looked down at his prey.
Karen’s full white panties were only on for a few seconds, just long enough to see the hair peeking out from the elastic sides of the undies, and the timberline of her bush was visible above the elastic top as well.
Art was careful not to pull the hairs as he gingerly peeled the cotton panties down, and as Karen’s profusely hairy delta was revealed, his face was hit with the steamy aroma of Karen’s sex. The hair glistened with moisture around the center of the wildly overgrown triangle, and Art shivered when he realized that Karen was just as aroused as he was.
The second Art got the panties off of Karen’s ankles he found himself falling onto his chest between Karen’s fleshy thighs, his face diving into the pungent fold of her pussy. She was dripping wet before he got there, and as Art began lapping feverishly at her clit he heard Karen’s muffled voice squealing with delight.
The smell of pussy was so far removed from Art’s recent life that he had forgotten how much he adored the sweet-sour scent of a woman aroused, and his cock was hard as he pressed into the grassy knoll, all thoughts of how public an area this was removed from his mind.
Art glance up through the jungle of dark curls and saw Karen’s hands squeezing her breasts wildly, kneading the enormous jugs as her legs kicked around the sides of him. She was cumming, and cumming loudly.
Art felt like his face was being sprayed as he felt Karen’s body shudder, the spasms violent and uncontrollable as Art tongue continued to lick around the bud of her sex. A few aftershocks followed, and then Art felt Karen’s body relax.
Art got up on his hands and knees and looked up at Karen, her massive chest still heaving under that tank-top, which to Art’s regret had never come off. Further up, Karen’s flushed face was pointed up at the underside of the tree limbs above them, and when Art walked up on his hands and knees her ruddy face broke into a smile.
“So good,” Karen said softly, reaching up to pluck a stray hair off of Arthur’s wet cheek. “I never came like that before. Not ever.”
Karen reached up and brought Arthur’s face down to hers, kissing his pussy-drenched lips passionately before getting up to a sitting position and reaching over between Arthur’s legs.
“You don’t have to do that,” Arthur said as she felt Karen’s hand groping him.
“You’re kidding, right Arthur?” Karen smiled as she pulled the zipper down. “I want to – very much. I want to take you to the place where I just was – the place you took me. Want to make you happy too.”
“I don’t know – don’t know if I can,” Arthur said, most of the erection he had moments earlier now gone.
“You can. You will,” Karen said, smiling wider as her hand reached in the fly and found what she was looking for, the long semi-turgid member dangling down the inside leg of his boxers. “Oh wow!”
Arthur felt the blood going through his manhood as Karen’s plump fingers gripped his organ and pulled on it, the expression on her face seeming to indicate surprise over what she had found.
“Can you – take your top off for me?” Arthur asked.
“Of course,” Karen said, pulling her hand out of Arthur’s pants long enough to reach down and, crossing her hands and grabbing the bottom of her tank-top before pulling it up over her breasts and off. “Told you I was fat.”
“Rubenesque,” Art corrected his young friend, and while there may have been a little soft belly flesh on Karen’s body, it was hidden by her breasts, which were unbelievable – Arthur’s word.
“Unbelievable,” Art had said as his hands reached over and tried to cup the gigantic, bell-shaped jugs which hung down to her waist.
Karen’s crimson aureoles were as big as drink coasters, and the nipples were fat pegs that had to be two inches long at least. The flesh of Karen’s tits was surprisingly firm, and as Art’s hands tried to cradle them Karen raised her arms and pull her hands behind her head, pushing them harder into his palms.
The steamy jungles of hair under her arms were pasted against her sweaty skin as Karen writhed in his grasp, and Art soon found that it was easier to use both hands on one breast at a time, since there was way too much tit for one hand, even ones as big as his.
“That’s it,” Karen encouraged. “I like them played with rough. Now time for you Arthur. Lay back down.”
Art fell onto his back, looking up as if it was a dream as he felt Karen taking his pants down, and then when his boxers came down he felt the coolness of the grass on his backside. He had a moment of shame when he realized what he must look like – a withered old man whose body looked every minute of the 65 years it had on it, but when Arthur saw Karen’s face as she pulled on his rubbery cock, he suddenly thought that it was going to be alright.
“I had no ides,” Karen said as she knelt next to Arthur’s hip, her breasts swaying down in front of her as she milked his slowly stiffening cock. “You’re really big.”
Then Karen was bowing down, taking his cock into her mouth and letting her lips go all the way down to his silver pubes. To Arthur, feeling his cock inside of Karen’s mouth was like it was the first time again.
Art was getting harder every second, and soon Karen’s lips were not getting near his pubic hair, as he cock swelled and lengthened under her loving. Now she was lifting her mouth off of his cock, but only to peel the foreskin down off of the bulbous head of his member, and after licking around the ridge and opening of his glans, went right back to it, her hand kneading his nuts as she went down on him.
Forty years ago – twenty years ago, I would have cum by now, Arthur thought as he watched Karen’s face bobbing up and down. Now, he found himself wanting this to last forever, and as he reached down and played with the pendulous breast that dangled invitingly around his ribs, he thought maybe he had died in his sleep last night, and this was heaven. If so, it was where he wanted to stay.
Gradually, Karen had gotten into a rhythm, and as she did Arthur kept looking up at the underside of the limbs of the old oak they were under. This tree must be as old as he was or even older, Arthur thought. How many times had it sheltered people doing this very same thing?
So engrossed was Art in his thoughts, that when Karen’s mouth came up off of him, he thought that the poor girl’s jaw had gotten tired, and his only hope was that she would finish him off by hand. He was wrong.
Chapter Seven: No.
“No,” Arthur said when he glanced down and saw Karen had stopped what she was doing and was doing something else, something that Arthur didn’t expect.
Displaying a great deal of agility for a chubby girl, Karen had swung herself up and had straddled Arthur’s cock, stroking the swollen tool as she maneuvered it to her opening.
Art didn’t know why he had said no; maybe because he was enjoying what Karen had been doing so much, or maybe because he was afraid that he would get Karen pregnant, although that possibility at his age was slim, and besides, Karen didn’t seem to mind or had paid no attention to him even if she had.
What Art felt as Karen lowered herself onto his erection was that she had to be a virgin. She was so tight that it felt like his cock was tearing through her narrow opening that no one else had penetrated.
Karen was wailing as she impaled herself onto him, her head rolling around on her shoulders and those incredible tits swaying as she moved. Then he was fully inside of Karen, and she was riding him, with those enormous jugs so inviting to Art’s hands that he cupped them and kneaded them as roughly as he dared.
Karen’s pussy felt so good that he found himself fighting not to cum, her insides treating his swollen cock to a variety of wonderful sensations. The visual delights were just as amazing, because above him Karen was going crazy, her hands clutching his as she helped him maul her tits.
Then Art had to close his eyes, as Karen let go of his hands, reaching up and running her own hands though her scalp as she shook her head in a frenzy, exposing all of her exotic natural beauty to him. His balls felt like they were about to explode as he fought to keep his cock from erupting, and then he lost the fight, as Karen’s pussy slammed down around his member.
Art came deep inside of Karen, filling her womb with his seed, but he soon realized that Karen was cumming too, his cock being crushed over and over again in a series of contortions that ended with Karen collapsing on top of him.
“Oh man,” Karen said as she panted while gasping for air. “Sorry, Arthur.”
Karen tried to get off of him, apparently feeling that she was crushing him, but Art held her tight, burying his head into Karen’s sweaty, cavernous cleavage as his cock went limp inside of her, the pounding of her heart echoing in his ears.
Chapter Eight: Afterward.
“I hope that was half as good for you as it was for me,” Karen said as she eventually lifted herself up on her hands, her jugs still drubbing Art’s face playfully.
Art rolled Karen over onto her back and tried to speak, but he found himself choking up as he did.
“It was – never thought I would ever make love again,” was as far as he got before breaking down.
“You did though. We did,” Karen said as they embraced. “And it was the best.”
Eventually they got themselves composed enough to sit up, and after finishing the quart of beer they had opened, Karen coaxed Art into getting into the creek with her. The water was only knee high at best, but when they sat on the sandy bottom, they both shivered.
“Surprised there isn’t steam coming up from down there,” Art quipped as they sat in the water that only reached their waists.
“Freezing my nipples off,” Karen said as she lifted her breasts up out of the chilly water while nodding behind Art. “Might as well leave those other three quarts of beer in here for tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Art asked.
“Hope you weren’t planning on making me a one night stand, or is it one day stand?” Karen asked.
“No,” Art said, even though he felt exhausted, and had no idea if he could do this again so soon, although he realized that he hadn’t thought he could even do it at all before.
An approaching freight train got them out of the water and scrambling for cover behind some brush, and as they giggled like schoolkids, their hands kept busy.
“I like uncircumcised guys,” Karen said as she played with Arthur’s limp dick. “So much cooler than the other kind.”
“I didn’t think anybody was like this anymore,” Art wondered aloud, but as it turned out, Karen was familiar with uncut guys since most of her lovers had been.
Art was Karen’s fourth lover, he learned after asking her whether she was a virgin before today, and when his face registered surprise, Karen apologized and told of her past experience.
“Hope you don’t think I’m a slut or anything,” Karen said when she told him there had been 3 before him.
“No, it’s just that you were so tight,” Art explained.
“It’s more a case that you’re so big,” Karen quipped, pulling hard on his dick like it was elastic.
Art knew he wasn’t all that big, but he enjoyed hearing it, and didn’t mind when Karen asked if she could confide her secrets to him. There was the first, one of her teachers at school, who took a liking to her extraordinary breast development at such a tender age, and then another teacher the next year. and swept her off of her feet and into the storage room where he popped her cherry.
“I think that the first teacher probably told the second guy,” Karen surmised when she told of her math teacher the following year, and Art felt queasy when he thought about his tax money going to pay teachers who deflowered their students. “When another teacher started coming on to me senior year I decided that was enough education for me.”
Her third lover was a guy her age, her first unshrouded penis, and she said that she had come to the conclusion that the old uncut guys were the best. The teachers that had made love to her had been real old, according to Karen, and Art laughed when he heard her say that they were in their 40’s or 50’s, proving that old was relative.
“You’re the best though,” Karen said, and while Art doubted that, he wasn’t going to argue.
After the train had gone past, they stayed behind the brush, groping around playfully. Art pinned Karen’s arms down after she complained about being sweaty and smelly, and although Art’s tongue found her underarms more salty than sweet at this point, he still enjoyed the experience.
“You have no idea how much that turns me on,” Karen said after Art finally relented and let her go. “Your tongue under my arm makes me crazy.”
“I’m glad, because it drives me insane even though I know it’s a little weird.”
“No it isn’t. Besides, I mean everything you do to me,” Karen said, pulling on her tank-top as they reluctantly began to get dressed. “The way you look at me and the things you do. You’re so accepting of my body, despite it all. You make me feel pretty and desirable, instead of just being a receptacle.”
“I could tell you how pretty you are to me all day, but you wouldn’t believe me,” Art said. “Someday you will, I hope.”
Karen and Arthur went back and finished the beer over the course of the summer, making love under the tree several more times, even getting caught by the workers on the passing train one time. Fortunately they were too far away to be recognizable.
It wasn’t always as magical as that first time. Arthur’s age came into play from time to time, but Karen was comforting and understanding, never demanding or acting disappointed, which made Arthur feel more confident.
“As long as your tongue still works, I’m a happy girl,” Karen had assured Art, and with an lush woman like Karen to use it on, Arthur was just as happy many times.
Sometimes that was all he wanted to do, simply to kiss and caress – worship Karen’s body, and when Karen figured out that he meant it when he told her that he enjoyed using his tongue and lips on every inch of her voluptuous form, she was more than happy to let Art do what he wanted. Not an pore on her body was left untouched by Arthur, who had no inhibitions when it came to his young lover.
Summer ended and fall came, and after the tomatoes had been harvested, they found another reason to get together. Arthur began tutoring Karen, helping her with her schoolwork because of his knowledge of accounting, and that gave them many chances to enjoy each other in a more comfortable surrounding without raising suspicions from Karen’s parents.
What was better was the afterglow after their lovemaking, when they would sit and reflect; Arthur about his years with Alice along with his life and work experiences, and Karen with the fears and insecurities that she once had before Arthur, as well as the dreams of her future. They were like husband and wife, mentor and protege, and best friends all rolled into one.
Eventually, as they both knew it would, they saw less of each other. Years passed, and Karen’s education continued as she transferred to a university out of state. They still talked often, and exchanged correspondence, but their relationship had changed and the physical part had changed to hugs and kisses.
Soon Karen had graduated, and one day came over to his house and excitedly told Arthur that she was in love and was engaged. When she saw how genuinely happy he was for her that day, she cried with happiness.
As they embraced, Arthur’s hands stroked Karen’s arms, which were more slender than they used to be, even though her breasts remained as voluptuous as ever. Arthur couldn’t help but notice that something else had changed as well when Karen stepped back and brushed the hair back from her cheek.
Her underarms, once so delightfully natural were now smooth hollows, in the fashion of the times. Karen caught Arthur peeking at her exposed armpit and shrugged her shoulders with a crooked little smile. Arthur did the same, his gesture an acknowledgement that like him, that phase of Karen’s life had come and gone.
“I hope he worships you – gives you as much love and respect as you deserve, and appreciates what a treasure you are like I do,” Arthur said, his eyes twinkling and glistening with moisture.
“I don’t think anybody could do that, but he’s a good man. I love you. I owe you so much,” she said as they embraced once more, his body so much more frail that it had been that day under the oak tree, and in the years of lovemaking that had followed.
“No,” Arthur said. “We’re even.”
Arthur was invited to the wedding, and when he shook hands with the strapping young man who was now her husband, after Arthur had been given such a glowing introduction by the stunningly beautiful bride, all he could say was two words.
“Lucky man,” Arthur said, and he didn’t explain what he meant to the young fellow, but he thought that Karen understood when he glanced over at her. Both men were both lucky. Maybe Karen was as well.
Arthur stopped tinkering in the garden soon after Karen had gone off to school. It was not that he couldn’t do it, but there was no longer any incentive for him to go back and dig in the dirt. Not without the promise of a plump little goddess to keep him company and make him feel young again.
Arthur eventually sold his house and moved south when the winters became too much for him, but before he did he managed to make his way down to the creek, and to the oak tree that had been a special place once long ago.
Apparently it had used by others in the years since then, and was not in as pristine a condition as he and Karen had left it back in 1970. Arthur looked at the tree, which seemed to be looking back at him as if to say, I was here before you were born, and I’ll be here long after you’re gone.
“I hope others enjoy you as much as we did. Live long, my friend,” Arthur said aloud, patting the bark of the tree before heading back to finish packing, picking up a few pieces of litter along the way home.