Loading...The time was 1995 and the place was a sleepy suburb of Albany, New York.
He was a bored man in his mid-40s whose wife had taken off with another guy, leaving him with a house he didn’t want and a lot of time on his hands – until he started paying attention to the sights around him.
……
Chapter One: Over the hedge.
“Empty again,” I said aloud to myself, peeking through the hedge at my next door neighbor’s house at the little in-ground pool which sat unused as always, despite it being at least ninety degrees out once again.
The Schultz family had the pool installed four years ago, and after the first summer, I had never seen anybody in it. Being a good neighbor, I would have noticed if they had used it too, because Kathy Schultz, Ben’s wife, had a pair of tits on her that would have incredible for a woman at any age. Since she had to be close to 50, they were even more amazing to behold.
Unfortunately, they were never on display any more. Ben and Kathy were always bopping around the world, now that their kids had grown. The older boy was off on his own, and the younger girl was getting old enough to take care of herself, so away they went.
I was not so lucky. I had been married – almost 20 years – to a woman that I may not have loved all that much near the end – but had lived with and respected enough to remain faithful despite the occasional temptations that would come around. Despite her letting herself go and gaining about 10 pounds a year, until eventually she ended up looking like the female twin of the Michelin Man, I tried my best to be the faithful husband.
Mary had not been nearly as virtuous as I had been, as it turned out. Apparently, she had caught the eye of another man, and had spent the last year of our cohabitation sneaking him in the back door as soon as I went out the front door to work.
“You’re just mad because he’s black!” Mary screamed at me when I finally became aware that something was going on.
Someone had left a note on my windshield that indicated something was going on when I left for the day, but I had misinterpreted the note and thought it was the mailman who was screwing my wife, when in fact it was the garbage man.
“I didn’t know who was fucking you, and I don’t give a shit about the color,” I assured her, and I really didn’t. The hue of the dick was inconsequential to me. Just the infidelity was enough, and since the marriage was merely a habit by then, the heartbreak was minimal.
“He’s got the goods to reach the right places too. You know what I’m sayin’ George?” she spat at me when she left, after trying to get me to abandon the house so that she could move Trasheem in on my dime.
“That’s nice,” I said as I watched her pack the last of her stuff in the U-haul. “For the record, my ‘goods’ are the same as they were when you met me. It’s yours that got harder to find. It’s nice that you’re getting the dialect down, though.”
Know what I’m saying? No, I didn’t, and I didn’t want to. All I knew was that I had wasted 20 years of my life, and I wanted those years back, or least something to show for it. At least more than the memory of some beer-bellied garbage man humping my fat-ass wife while I was busting my tail at work.
The sound of footsteps next door woke me out of my trance, and when I glanced in the direction of the noise, I saw the Schultz girl putting a bag of garbage in the trash can. What was her name? I racked my memory – the girl was so nondescript that she wasn’t the type to leave an impression, although I had seen her walking briskly to and from the school bus stop for years – head down and arms full of books clutched tightly to her chest.
Jill… Jane… Janice? Joyce!
“Hello Joyce,” I called out over the hedge, and she seemed startled at the sound of my voice – or was it that maybe Joyce wasn’t even her name?
“Oh, hello Mr. Girtler,” Joyce said softly, smiling a tight-lipped smile.
“Nice day for a swim,” I said while looking longingly at the pristine pool. “Going to be a hot one today.”
“I guess,” Joyce said, folding her arms across her chest. “Got a lot of studying to do.”
“Summer school?” I asked, while looking her up and down.
Apparently she was covering her top up because she wasn’t wearing a bra under her t-shirt, although it didn’t look like she even needed one. Tall drink of water, the girl was. Probably 5’10” or so, and skinny as a rail. Long medium brown hair, a touch of acne on her face and a rather large nose. Not exactly a super model, but cute in her own strange way.
“Kinda,” Joyce explained. “I’m taking an accelerated program at State before I start for real this fall.”
“College already?” I asked, surprised that she was old enough for that. “I thought I was the only one getting old around here. Wasn’t that long ago that you were flying around on your tricycle.”
“Yeah, I guess,” she said shyly, her cheeks flushing.
She was wearing shorts, and I couldn’t help noticing that Joyce had really long and skinny legs. At that point I think my leering was getting obvious, and it was making her nervous. For that I felt guilty, but I was just so starved for conversation with the opposite sex, that I felt helpless.
“Folks away again?” I asked, trying to look at her eyes after inspecting her thoroughly.
“Yeah. Iceland,” Joyce said with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Lucky them,” I told her. “While the cats are away, aren’t the mice supposed to play? You know, have a keg party and invite all your friends? I won’t tell, as long as you invite me, that is.”
“No, I’m not much for that sort of thing,” Joyce admitted, as if she had to tell me what was obvious.
“Well, if you have a pool party, count me in,” I told her before heading off to work.
“Okay,” Joyce said, and she almost seemed sad about me leaving, although I suspect that was more the product of my imagination than anything else.
“Cute kid,” I told myself as I pulled out of the driveway and headed for work. “And I’m talking to myself a lot these days too.”
::
Chapter Two: Splish-splash.
It was late that night when I heard it, in between cycles of the air conditioner. It was a barely audible splash, and it came from the Schultz’s backyard.
Curiosity got the best of me, and so I went to the back window and looked out. Nothing resembling a party going on back there, although there was definitely somebody in the pool. I grabbed the almost empty bag out of the kitchen waste basket and went out to make the unnecessary garbage run.
The only light in the yard next door was coming from the kitchen, which made seeing difficult. A flick of the switch turned on the light in my backyard, which helped light things up a little over there, and I made a lot of noise as I headed toward my trash can – whistling and scuffing my feet. Joyce was getting out of the pool, looking toward me in a panic as she scrambled toward the towel on the chaise lounge by the pool.
“Hi Joyce,” I called out, trying to act casually while watching her holding the towel in front of herself. “I see you decided to have that party after all.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said nervously.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” I said, feeling a whole lot like the pervert I was.
The bathing suit Joyce was wearing was about as revealing as something from the 50’s. It was a very modestly cut one-piece gray suit that revealed little more than her t-shirt and shorts had earlier in the day, except for exposing her slender arms and bony shoulders.
“Oh, you didn’t,” she lied, still holding the gigantic towel in front of her like a matador.
“Looking refreshing,” I said, in a lame effort to get an invitation for a dip, but none was forthcoming, so I made my exit, wishing her a nice evening.
“Good night, Mr. Girtler,” she called out just as I reached the door.
I waved, wondering why she would suddenly get friendly as I was leaving, and the way she looked over toward me after I was inside was also strange. I watched her from the side of the curtains as she slowly went back toward the pool, looking at her long and lithe legs before turning off my light and giving her some privacy from my prying eyes.
:::
Chapter Three: Infatuation.
Over the next few days, I found quite a few reasons to ‘accidentally’ bump into Joyce. Going to the mailbox had become almost a ritual, as we always seemed to go out at the same time, crossing the quiet road to check our mailboxes.
Most days I would pull into the driveway and head across the road, and Joyce would be going over as well. I was wondering whether she suspected me of stalking her or something, especially since most evenings I would find a reason to go outside during one of her moonlight dips.
I was becoming infatuated with the girl. I came to that conclusion one evening when I was looking out at her pool area when she came out. Leaving my backyard light on accidentally gave me a halfway decent view of the Schultz backyard from the window of my upstairs bedroom.
A perfectly normal thing to do, I said to myself, justifying the fact that I was kneeling on the carpet of my bedroom in the dark. It wasn’t like I was staring at the girl through binoculars or something. I didn’t even own binoculars, and besides, my hands were busy. One hand was holding my curtain back slightly, and my other hand had a firm hold on my very erect cock, and was pumping it with enthusiasm.
I was just a normal middle aged divorced guy with time on his hands, who happened to be on his knees staring at a skinny teenage girl – and how slender Joyce’s body really was seemed to be amplified as she climbed out of the pool and arranged her long brown hair so that it fell down her back.
She was almost androgynous as she stood there with her arms raised; her lithe form almost devoid of curves and her long, rail-thin arms ending in the deep hollows of her armpits, and as she looked up in my direction, I felt the familiar tingling, which was immediately followed by my dick spurting cum all over the floor.
I felt more than a little shame as I cleaned up the mess that I had made, but apparently not enough to stop looking over at Joyce until she finally went inside a few minutes later.
::::
Chapter Four: Swimming.
“You know, if you want to come over and swim, you can anytime you want, Mr. Girtler,” Joyce said the next morning. “My parents wouldn’t mind, and I never go in during the day.”
That invitation didn’t come out of the blue, but was in response to another of my comments regarding the heat wave we were in, and my mentioning that I noticed she only swam at night.
“No fun swimming by myself,” I told her. “If you wouldn’t mind company for one of your evening dips, that might be more my speed.”
“Oh… uh… okay,” Joyce said, a little flustered at the thought, and I almost chuckled at imagining how she would feel if she knew what I had been doing the night before while she climbed out of the pool.
“Well, if I get the urge, maybe I’ll join you some night,” I assured her. “If I do, you have to start calling me George. Okay?”
Right. I was going to have the urge, and I was going to have it tonight, that much was certain. I didn’t have a bathing suit, but that was easily fixed on my way home from work that evening.
It took longer than I expected, because I didn’t want to reveal more than a middle-aged guy should, and most of them seemed to do just that, but I finally found one that was a respectable middle ground between frumpy looking and barely a jock strap.
A quick trip to the grocery store, where I picked up some things that I could casually bring over when I just happened to decide to take a dip with Joyce tonight. Nothing fancy; just some sushi, veggies and dip, and some wine in one of those new cardboard flasks with plastic goblets so there was no glass around the pool.
The fact that I would look nothing like I was making a casual unexpected visit with the arsenal of stuff I had gotten, didn’t occur to me as I waited impatiently for darkness to arrive, while I stayed poised and waiting in the kitchen, bathing suit on and picnic basket in hand.
I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass, and while I might have felt like a bit of a predator, and may certainly have looked a little overanxious, I had to admit I looked better than I had 24 hours earlier.
Joyce went out a little before dark, and seemed even more nervous in the faint illumination of dusk. I grabbed all of my party favors and hustled over to the pool just as Joyce was putting her toe in the water.
“That looks great,” I said, announcing my arrival as I slipped through the small opening in the hedge.
My voice startled Joyce, who pulled her toe out of the water and crossed her arms across her chest. Close up, she looked even more slender. Her legs were really long, and while they were skinny, they were shapely.
“I brought some party favors,” I said, putting the stuff on the patio table and spreading them out, while Joyce nodded nervously and tried to get into the safety of the water, probably trying to avert my prying eyes.
I joined her in the pool, and the cool water proved to be just as refreshing as it had looked. Joyce began to relax a little as we chatted, and after a long swim, when she climbed out, I followed her.
We drank some wine and ate some of the snacks, and even though Joyce was wrapped up in the gigantic towel, I was able to get little glimpses of her. She certainly was protective of her breasts, however, always keeping the area shielded from my view.
I became very interested in her arms, and noted with interest that she had a lot of fine down on her forearms, and when she lifted her arms to pull her hair back from her shoulders, I was afforded an extended glance of her armpits, which were deep valleys. As I had expected, Joyce’s armpits were shaved, but the dense shadow that coated the hollows gave promise to her maybe having a nice, thick bush between her legs.
Getting a little ahead of yourself there, I thought to myself as I filled our goblets again. Joyce wouldn’t even take the towel off her and I’m wondering what her pussy looked like. Still, I thought of a way to maybe get her to loosen up.
“Aren’t you hot with that towel on,” I asked. “It’s still steamy out even now.”
Joyce shrugged, leaving me hanging.
“Look, I realize you probably feel weird with me staring at you like this,” I said. “I have to admit that living next door to you all this time, to see what a beautiful young woman you’ve become is quite a shock. I still picture you walking to the bus every morning all these years looking so serious and focused.”
I almost added that she always had her books clutched to her chest then too. Obviously Joyce was very self-conscious about her small bosom, and I tried to ease her concern.
“I promise I won’t stare at you – or at least I’ll try not to,” I said, and to my surprise, she finally let the towel fall down off of her.
I love small breasted women, so seeing the modest outline of her chest in the bathing suit excited me. I glanced down from time to time, but tried to stay focused on her face as we chatted.
It looked like she was mostly padding up top, by the appearance of the bathing suit, but that was fine by me. More than a handful is a waste anyhow.
By the time we had finished the wine, we were a little silly. I had mentioned the fact that I had better get back home, but Joyce had continued to talk, so I stayed longer than I had expected. When we finally got up from the chairs, my eyes drifted down between Joyce’s legs, and I caught a glimpse of stubble on the inside of her thighs just outside of the elastic of the suit’s crotch.
The peek at that furry spillage got me hard at once, and I tried to cover myself up as best I could while saying good night, but it wasn’t easy.
:::::
Chapter Five: True confessions.
The next night, I made my way over at dusk and made myself at home on the neighbor’s deck, and I saw Joyce peek out of the window after I had been there a few minutes. Joyce came out soon after, and really seemed happy to see me.
When she came out, she was holding her towel instead of hiding in it. The stubble on the very inside of her thighs was still there as well, and I fought not to stare at it.
“Forgive me for making myself so at home,” I said, waving at the stuff I had brought with me, including two flasks of wine instead of one.
“That’s okay,” Joyce said. “I told you to come over any time. I had fun last night.”
“I thought you might have a date or something,” I noted, and Joyce gave a tiny little smile and shook her head sadly.
“I know you said that you were studying to be an accountant,” I mentioned after we took a dip and came back to the table. “Did you ever consider being a model?”
Joyce made a face at that, and maybe I was laying it on a bit thick there, but she was either getting more attractive every day or I was becoming infatuated with her.
She did have beautiful hair, long and straight and a rich auburn color. She had a model’s body too. So what if she wasn’t a raving beauty in the conventional sense? Her teeth were stunning, and the faint acne scars could be easily taken care of. The nose was a bit large too, but it gave her a distinctive look.
“Model? Me?” Joyce said, and laughed.
“I happen to think you’re a very stunning woman,” I informed her. “I think you lack confidence, but then again so do I. With good reason.”
“I lack a lot of things,” Joyce said, catching me looking at her chest again.
“You seem to be very self-conscious about your breasts,” I blurted out, surprising myself for saying what I had been thinking. “You shouldn’t be. A lot of men love women with small breasts. My wife – ex-wife – had small breasts.”
“She did?” Joyce said.
“When we first met she did,” I said, realizing that Joyce had probably only remembered the cow that Mary had become in recent years. “Before she let herself go to hell, she was very petite. I think she was only an A cup when we got married, and I thought she was very sexy back then.”
“I’m flat-chested though,” Joyce said self-consciously, staring down at herself.
“You’re too hard on yourself,” I assured her. “If you decide to go skinny-dipping someday I’ll find out for sure. Besides, I’m certainly not built very well myself.”
“You have a nice body,” Joyce said, blushing after saying that.
“I meant elsewhere,” I said, looking down at my trunks and shrugging. “That’s the main reason why I’m not married any more, or so I was told.”
“Oh,” Joyce said. “Sorry.”
“Just as well,” I said with a smile. “I’d still be living a lie if it didn’t come out that she was screwing around on me.”
“Did you catch her in the act?” Joyce asked, with a nervous edge to her voice.
“No. Somebody left a note on my car and told me about it,” I said. “If it wasn’t for that Good Samaritan, who knows how long I would have been playing the fool.”
“I did it,” Joyce said, looking at me like she had committed a crime. “I wrote the note.”
::::::
Chapter Six: More revelations.
“You did?” I asked, and when Joyce nodded it looked like she was about to cry.
“I know it was none of my business, and after I left it I wished I hadn’t, but it was too late.”
I stood up as a tear trickled down her pale cheek, kneeling next to her and putting my arms around her cool, moist shoulders.
“Don’t be sorry, honey,” I said, squeezing her tightly, my hand trying to calm Joyce by sliding my hand up and down her furry forearm.
The feel of a woman in my arms again made my cock throb despite the circumstances. The touch – the aroma – how much I missed it all, and I held her until she stooped sobbing.
“Thank you so much,” I said, wiping away a tear that had found it’s way down to her chin. “You have no idea how much I appreciate what you did.”
“It’s just that you seemed like such a nice man all these years,” Joyce sniffed. “You were always saying funny things to me, and treated me like I was somebody.”
“Well, you are somebody,” I said, brushing a hair away from her face.
I found myself leaning towards Joyce, bringing my lips to hers. It was just a brief peck, but she didn’t back away, and it felt good.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” I told Joyce, getting up from my crouching position and sitting back up.
“I liked it,” Joyce said softly, smiling the tightest smile posible and after a pregnany pause, went on. “That man – the garbage man. I hate him.”
“Me too,” I admitted. “I hate Mary more though, because she was the one that broke her vow, not him. How did you find out about him – them?”
“I would watch him show up just after you would leave for work,” Joyce explained. “He would stay for an hour and then get back in his truck and drive away. He did that for months.”
“I guess he had a regular route or something,” I said. “Anyway, Mary told me as she left that the reason she didn’t want me any more was because I didn’t have a big cock – excuse my bluntness -like he apparently does.”
“Does that matter?” Joyce asked.
“I guess so, or maybe she just said it to hurt me,” I told her. “Who knows?”
“I,” Joyce said with considerable difficulty. “I let him do things to me too.”
:::::::
Chapter Seven: A busy guy.
“You did?” I managed to ask after what seemed like an endless silence, and Joyce bit her lip and nodded.
For some reason I felt crushed. I had thought that Joyce was a sweet and innocent young thing, and now it seemed like I had stumbled headlong into falling for another one of the garbage man’s sperm banks.
“I didn’t want to,” she said, sensing my disappointment.
“What happened?” I asked.
“A couple of years ago, I was out in the back yard,” Joyce explained. “I heard a noise by the side of the house. When I peeked around the corner, I saw him. He had his thing out, and was stretching it and pulling on it.”
“What?”
“Then he started peeing,” Joyce said. “I don’t know why, but I watched him while he did it. I know that sounds sick, and I don’t know why I did. I had never seen a man’s thing before, and I guess I was curious. When he was finishing, he looked up and saw me. I turned and ran to the back door while he called out to me. When I got to the back door, I realized that I had locked it, because the front door was still open. He came around to the back and found me.”
“What did he do?”
“He asked me why I was running away when I should have been running towards him. He backed me against the wall over there,” Joyce said, nodding over to the siding at the back of the house. “He had his thing out again, and he pulled my hand down to it and told me to stroke it. He told me that he would tell my parents that I was spying on him unless I did stuff to him.”
“Like what?”
“He wanted me to have sex with him, but I wouldn’t do it. Then he tried to make me give him oral sex. I didn’t even know what he was talking about back then and I told him that I was a virgin. Finally, he said that if I did him with my hand, he wouldn’t tell, so I did. While I jerked him off, he had his hand under my shirt and down my shorts, telling me that I should let him be my first.”
“That was it?” I said, and Joyce nodded.
“He shot his stuff all over my leg and the patio and left. I never told anybody about this before,” Joyce said. “Too ashamed.”
“That wasn’t your fault, Joyce,” I told her. “He was just taking advantage of you.”
Just like I was, I thought to myself. The only difference would be that I would never lean on her to do it.
“I should have just screamed,” Joyce said in retrospect. “He wouldn’t have done anything like telling my parents. He was the one being disgusting by peeing outside, but I didn’t think of that at the time. Too scared.”
“I don’t blame you,” I said. “He’s a very intimidating looking man.”
“He’s disgusting,” Joyce said. “He made fun of me while he felt me up. Said that he couldn’t look at my breasts or else he wouldn’t stay hard.”
“And that’s why you’re so self-conscious about yourself?” I asked. “Because that predator made wise cracks? Trust me, he was turned on by you, but he was just trying make you feel scared and intimidated.”
“Well, it worked.”
“If it’s any consolation, I find you very erotic looking,” I told her.
“That’s because it’s dark out here and you can’t see me.”
“Nonsense,” I said, running my hand over the soft down on her forearms. “Don’t think that all men are interested in all of those silicone queens you see out there. Plenty of us like girls that have small breasts like you do.”
“I don’t have small breasts,” Joyce said. “I have no breasts.”
::::::::
Chapter Eight: Show and tell.
“I swore that when I got old enough that I would get implants,” Joyce explained. “Now that I can, I’m scared to do it.”
“It’s invasive surgery, Joyce,” I told her. “You should be a little frightened by it, especially when it’s so unnecessary – or at least that’s the way I see it. You’re the one that has to live in your body, though.”
“I just wish I had the kind of body that boys would look at, at least a little.”
“I’m not a boy, so I really don’t count,” I told her before confessing. “I look at you – a lot. I find you very attractive.”
“You’re just being nice,” Joyce decided.
“I am nice,” I said in agreement. “I’m honest too. If I were 25 years younger, I’d be all over you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re very smart, and a wonderful conversationalist. You’ve got a good sense of humor, and I find you very attractive, despite what you think about yourself.”
“No,” Joyce said. “I guess that I mean, what does being older have to do with it?”
“I dunno,” I said, keenly aware of how close we were to each other. “I guess I feel like some kind of predator. You know, like that show where that Chris Hanson catches these guys preying on underage girls?”
“I know. I’ve seen it,” Joyce said. “I’m not though. Underage I mean. When you kissed me before – I liked that. I was kinda hoping you would do it again.”
So I did. This time, it wasn’t a peck, but a real honest to goodness kiss. It had been so long since a woman had kissed me with passion, that I felt momentarily lost, before I began responding with the same level of excitement that Joyce was showing.
“Whew,” I said after our lips finally came apart. “You’re an amazing kisser.”
“Uh – do you want to – I don’t…” Joyce said, searching for words.
“Would you rather come over to my place?” I asked.
“No, could we stay over here?” Joyce asked shyly. “In case my Mom calls?”
I followed Joyce into her house. Up the stairs, her bottom just inches from my face, and then through her kitchen and living room before going up another flight of stairs and into her bedroom.
Joyce’s bedroom wasn’t much like I expected a teenage girl’s bedroom to be like. Absent were the pictures of the year’s model of heartthrobs, and instead were pictures of flowers and animals. The only concession to youth was her name in magnetic letters on her make-up mirror.
Joyce had turned the lamp on for a moment, but only long enough to light a candle before turning it back off.
“Too much light – isn’t good,” Joyce said nervously.
“I can see fine,” I told her, and moved over to her.
The hairs on her forearms were standing straight up even before my hands slid over them, and she shivered at the touch of my fingers against the goosebumps on her skin.
“Cold?” I asked, tempted to suggest she take off her damp bathing suit.
“That too,” Joyce said, and as if she was reading my mind, reaching behind herself, and the soft sound of a zipper being pulled down made me shiver now.
Her eyes never leaving mine, Joyce’s hands went to the shoulder straps of the suit, and with frightened deliberance she let the top of the suit fall down.
:::::::::
Chapter Nine: Joyce’s beauty.
As the suit came down, and the thickly padded cups of the garment fell off of Joyce’s chest, I admit to being stunned for a moment, but made sure I did not let it show, because the way Joyce was looking at me, I was certain that if I had shown any evidence of feeling what she was fearing, it would have crushed her, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. Besides, Joyce was beautiful.
Joyce was also flat-chested, just as she had announced. There was perhaps the slightest swells around her breast area, but for all intents and purposes, Joyce had no breasts.
She had nipples, though, and they stuck out like bullets – surprisingly thick stubs more than an inch long. Crimson nipples that were centered on half dollar-sized aureolas. Nipples that my hands were drawn to like magnets, and as I let the tips of my fingers circle the bumpy surface, I spoke in a breaking voice.
“You’re so beautiful,” I said, my eyes returning to hers, and her big brown eyes were shimmering, tears seeming to be welling up in her eyes as she stood before me. “I wish that for just one moment you could see yourself like I see you.”
Joyce threw her arms around me, hugging and kissing me as our damp bodies met. Joyce’s suit fel down off of her, and as we clung together, there was no mistaking the fact that I was indeed very aroused by her, and when she felt my hardness poking at her through the suit, she seemed to relax.
“Are they sensitive?” I asked Joyce, and when she nodded, my kisses went down her cheek and neck and across her chest to those prominent nipples.
My tongue licked the tip of her taut stub before my mouth surrounded it, nibbling and sucking the entire bud while Joyce gasped and held my head tightly to her chest. Her nipples seemed to swell even more under my oral assualt, and as I went back and forth between them, I felt Joyce’s hand working my cold swim trunks down.
Size was never something that occupied much of my thought process, at least not until my ex-wife had delivered her caustic coments my way, but now I found myself filled with self-doubt, not unlike Joyce must have been feeling herelf moments earlier.
I suppose I could have used the Seinfeld episode excuse, of being a victim of “shrinkage” after exiting the pool, and I silently cursed my ex for putting these thoughts in my mind to begin with.
I also remembered that this was no ignorant and totally inexperienced girl I was with either. She had held the cock of the very man who had used it to take my wife away from me, and now her hand was moving toward my supposedly inferior member. I had prayed for this moment to happen for days, and now that it was coming, I was petrified.
“Nice,” Joyce whispered in my ear as her hand surrounded my erection and slowly stroked it with a warm grip. “You’re very hard.”
We moved toward her bed without ever breaking eye contact, and as we moved onto the bedding I cursed myself for ever harboring the stupid doubts I had.
::::::::::
Chapter Ten: Exploration.
Our hands explored each other’s bodies with tenderness and loving detail. I loved the thick and soft triangle of hair that graced her womanhood. My fingers first raked through the delta, and then I kissed my way down her lean frame until I was inhaling the sweet nectar of her pussy.
My mouth caressed the lush fur, and then my tongue darted inside of Joyce. Her hands clenched my scalp tightly as I tongued my way up and down her labia before finding her clitoris, and when I did, Joyce went into a frenzy. Her legs were quivering and her entire body writhed beneath me, but when she came, she made the rest of her movements seem tame.
I held her butt cheeks in my cupped hands – both raising them and holding her tightly against my mouth – and as she came her body began bucking much like a bronco would. Hips bouncing off of the bedding and her back arching, Joyce squealed as her hands clutched at everything within reach. Pillows, sheets and my scalp got torn at as she convulsed in a fashion that was so erotic that it was all I could do to keep from having an orgasm myself just by being a part of it.
Her body was still going through what seemed like little after-shocks long after my tongue had slid back outside of her. I rested my face in her rich forest for few moments, inhaling the delicious musky aroma that wafted out of Joyce, before climbing up to the top of the bed.
“I guess you came,” I noted dryly, and Joyce giggled as she plucked a stray hair off of my cheek.
“I’m so hairy down there,” Joyce said. “Too hairy everywhere.”
“No, you aren’t,” I assured her. “There was a time in this fair land when women were actually allowed to have hair between their legs, as well as other places. Matter-of-fact, the first thing I noticed about you was the lovely down you have on your arms.”
“Really? You like that?”
“Very sexy,” I assured her, sliding my hand down between her legs and playing with the stubble that had been visible outside of her bathing suit. “I also saw this.”
“Guess I’m not as fastidious as I should be,” Joyce said. “I wasn’t expecting to be naked in front of anybody either. I never have before, you know. Naked, I mean. In front of a guy.”
“I’m honored, and millions of other guys don’t know what they’re missing.”
“I mean, I’ve done stuff with guys, but always had some clothes on. Usually my bra. Guys don’t usually want that to come off.”
I gave Joyce a disapproving look, reminding her that I didn’t want to hear any more of her self-depreciating talk.
“Are you a virgin, honey?” I asked her, and when she nodded, I nodded back.
I thought that her first time should be with somebody special, and so I put away any thoughts of climbing on top of her, but since I was still very aroused, I was hoping that at least Joyce would offer a helping hand. Again, it seemed like she was reading my mind.
“If I do this wrong or badly, please tell me. Okay?” Joyce said, just before she raised herself up on her elbow and kissed my chest, before heading down my body.
:::::::::::
Chapter Eleven: Another first.
Joyce pulled her long hair back over her shoulder as she took my cock in her hand, and gave me one last look before bowing her head and taking my cock in her mouth.
Her lips began moving up and down my dick slowly, her wet mouth feeling so good on my member. Joyce looked up at me a couple of times, hoping for a sign, and I moaned and nodded while watching her moist lips take in more of me with every trip down.
“So good,” I whimpered as her mouth went almost all the way down the shaft and her forehead grazed against my pubic hair.
Confident, Joyce began bobbing up and down faster, and her lips provided more pressure. Her hand had snaked down between my legs and she was now rolling my balls in her palm.
“So good,” I repeated, running my hand through her hair while I enjoyed the sight of my cock being made love to in the flickering candlelight.
While I wanted it to last much longer, I could hold back no longer, and I warned Joyce that I was going to cum. She paid me no mind, continuing to go down on me as I came. I heard her choke a little as my seed spurted down her throat, but she kept going, lips sliding up and down while she churned my nuts roughly.
I may have more intense and satisfying orgasms in my life, but if I had, I couldn’t recall them. Pulling Joyce off of my flaccid dick, I smothered her with kisses before wrapping my arms around her and holding her tight.
“So good,” I repeated, and that was both for the wonderful act as much as for the way Joyce had made me feel like a man again, after way too long a time.
:::::::::::
Chapter Twelve: Next?
We rested in each other arms for a time, before nature called and I had to pad off to the bathroom. When I returned, Joyce was on her back, hands behind her head and staring at the ceiling, which I noticed for the first time had constellations painted on the black background.
“I didn’t notice that before,” I told Joyce. “Your solar system up there. Guess I was busy looking at other magnificent sights.”
Joyce crinkled her nose, but at least didn’t say anything critical about herself, so I took that as a good sign. After checking out Orion, I rolled onto my lip and observed Joyce’s lithe body. So androgynous, yet so sexy, at least to me.
On a whim, I reached over and ran my hand across her chest before sliding the back of my hand through the deep recess of her armpit, feeling the coarse stubble aginst my skin. Joyce giggled and tried to put her arm down, but I held it back against the pillow.
“Told you I’m hairy,” Joyce said.
“Too bad this isn’t still the psychedelic era,” I noted with a trace of sadness, lamenting my long-ago past and the great relationship I had with my ex before we got married. “You would look so sexy with unshaved armpits.”
“Oh god!” Joyce said. “I look enough like a boy as it is. I won’t forget to shave tomorrow before you see me.”
The fact that Joyce mentioned a tomorrow at all gave me a warm feeling, and I told her so.
“If you want, tomorrow night I’ll shave them for you myself,” I offered, almost mentioning that was something I used to with my ex on occassion, and back when it mattered it was something we used to enjoy a lot.
“That sounds kinky,” Joyce said.
“I have experience,” I did inform her. “I’ve done it before, so you don’t need to be afraid. If you feel you must do it, I’m willing and able.”
“What else do you want to shave?” Joyce asked.
“Nothing else,” I assured her. “Your legs are smooth, and I wouldn’t touch the other area for anything, because it’s too beautiful just as it is.”
“Well, if I let you do that tomorrow night, you will have to do something for me.”
“I’d be glad to.”
“Anything?” Joyce asked.
“Absolutely. You name it.”
“Make love to me tomorrow night.”
:::::::::::::
Chapter Thirteen: Making love.
I couldn’t believe my ears when Joyce had told me that, but when I pressed her on the matter – actually almost trying to talk her out of it for some strange reason – she remained steadfast.
“I want you to make love to me,” Joyce said. “I like you a lot, and you say you like me.”
“I do,” I said, almost telling her that waht I was feeling felt much stronger than that.
“Then it’s settled,” Joyce said.
That it was.
I was shaken all the nextday, feeling like I had just gotten off of a carnival ride or something equally bad on the equilibruim. What I was going to do later that night weighed heavily on me.
Not just because of the age differential, although that was part of it for sure. It’s just that when you live next door to someone for so long, and watch them grow up – suffice to say it’s a long journey from watching a little girl playing hopscotch to taking the clothes of her as an adult.
Her parents. I knew them fairly well. What would they think about their good old neighbor George jumping the bones of their virgin daughter? What would I think if it were me?
Thank goodness Mary and I had been unable to breed, was my only thought, in more ways that one.
When the time came, I walked over to the back door and saw a note on the glass, saying that the door was open and come right in. I was careful to take the note off of the door before I went in, and called out her name as I walked through the house and up the stairs to Joyce’s room.
I had brought a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses, but all of that was forgotten when I knocked on her bedroom door. The door opened a little awhen I tapped on it, and as it did, Joyce rose from the edge of the bed were she had been sitting.
“Wow,” I whispered, stunned at the sight of her.
She was wearing a tiny white lacy nightie that covered everything but hid nothing. It was as if Joyce was surrounded by a fine mist, and she looked every bit a vision of beauty.
Her hair was shiny and straight, and fell down her shoulders and back. She was wearing the most nervous smile imaginable, and was looking at me for approval, as if she didn’t know how stunning she looked.
“You’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” I said, setting the stuff I had brought with me on her dresser, closing the door behind me as I moved toward her.
I don’t even remember how my clothes came off, but there they were on the floor. I didn’t want to take off her beautiful nightie, but there was so much else I wanted to see that eventually it got lifted over her head.
Over mouths explored each others, and then went to visit other areas. Her pussy tasted so sweet, and tonight she was going down on me with each more passion than the night before. I couldn’t take any more, and finally rolled her onto her back and parted her thighs.
My cock in hand, I rubbed it through the thick bush, and into the opening that had already been damp before I had made it wetter still. I leaned forward, and although it was a snug fit, I pushed hard.
Joyce let out a little cry, and then suddenly my cock slid right into her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her face into my shoulder, and I felt the dampness of her tears as I began moving gently in and out of her.
“You okay, honey?” I asked, feeling the warm dampness of her surround my member, and she pulled her face away and nodded, giving me a little smile.
In a minute, I felt her moving her hips into me as I thrust toward her, and the sounds of her bed squeaking made like a metronome as we moved. She was so wet down there that we made a squishing noise each time our bodies met, and as we began to move faster and harder, the noise grew louder.
I glanced down and saw the reason for all of that, and quickly averted my eyes, hoping that Joyce would not notice until it was over.
Over? I didn’t want this to be over – not ever. We were devouring each other’s mouths as we kissed savagely. Joyce clawed at my back as our breathing kept getting louder and heavier, and I could only assume that my face was as red and strained as hers was. My only thought was to keep going and not to orgasm before she did.
For a time, I didn’t think I was going to be able to. It had been so long since I had felt myself inside of a woman, and so much longer since I could honestly say that I had made love, that it was all too much.
I strained to hold back even though I was no longer able to contain myself, and I was almost ready to give up when Joyce cried out in my ear, her pussy slamming down around my cock several times as her body thrashed around in my arms. I held on tight as she bucked around for an eternity, and my seed had already been sent deep into her by the time she finally went limp in my arms.
I joined Joyce, rolling over next to her and stared at the constellations on her ceiling for the longest time, until I felt her body shaking and heard her sobbing.
“What’s wrong, honey?” I asked he, rolling onto my elbow and looking at her.
Joyce shook her head, biting her lip for a minute, before bursting into tears and wrapping her arms around me. I held her shaking body again until she calmed down, and when she did, I dried her eyes for her.
“Don’t mind me,” Joyce sniffed, breaking into a choked laugh. “I’m not usually emotional, but when I am…”
“That’s okay,” I said, feeling a little choked up myself. “I even think I understand, a little.”
“That was my dream – what we just did,” she said after gaining control a bit. “Everything – the nightie and all. I always dreamed it would be with my husband on my wedding night, but at the rate I’m going, you never know.”
“Tell you what you should do,” I suggested. “You take that nightie – which on you happens to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen – and put it away for a time. Before too long, somebody is going to find out what a spectacular woman you are, and you’ll be needing it. Won’t stay on long, mind you, because you’re too beautiful without it.”
“Maybe you can marry me,” Joyce said with a giggle.
“You can do better than me, and besides, I don’t think your folks would think too much of that idea.”
“They like you,” Joyce said.
“Not as a son-in-law,” I said. “As a neighbor.”
“They’ll be home next week,” Joyce said, crinkling her nose and making a face.
“That will end the pool parties, I’m afraid. Too bad.”
“Well, I can always sneak over and visit you,” Joyce suggested.
“You’re always welcome over there,” I assured her. “Apparently my back door is easy to get into.”
Joyce rolled off of the bed and looked down at the mess, and for a minute I thought she was going to faint.
“Did I mention that I was a virgin?” she said, before padding off to the bathroom.
While she was in there taking a shower, I removed the soiled sheet and rummaged around in her closet, actually finding her spare linen and changing the bed by the time she got out.
“You’re amazing!” Joyce said.
“I agree. May I use that facility also?”
I padded off to the bathroom and ducked into the shower myself before rejoining Joyce, who was waiting for me with a twinkle in her eyes.
::::::::::::::
Chapter Fourteen: Dessert.
“Forget something?” Joyce asked me as she lay on her back in bed, hands behind her head.
“The champagne!” I said, reaching over and grabbing the bottle that I had set down when I came in.
“No, not that,” Joyce said, and after I popped the cork and poured us a toast, she asked again.
“Oh, you mean pants?” I said, remembering that I was still walking around bare-assed. “Can’t belive I’m parading around with my little twinky showing.”
“I don’t think it’s little,” Joyce said. “It didn’t feel little when it ripped me apart. I’m the one parading around topless – in every way possible.”
“Guess stuff like that doesn’t really matter,” I said, spilling a few drops on her nipple, and then retrieving them with my tongue.
“I’m still waiting,” Joyce said after drinking the glass of champagne and resuming her position. “Unless you’re chicken, that is.”
I didn’t understand what Joyce was talking about, until she nodded toward the night table, where she had set a hand towel, a razor and a can of shave gel.
“Oh yeah! I forgot all about that!” I said grabbing the things and setting them on the bed next to me. “No, I’m not chicken, but I figured you might be.”
“Well, the more I thought about it, the more it interested me,” Joyce explained, smiling as she reclined once again and waited.
I shook the can of gel and squirted some into my palm. Joyce shuddered as I rubbed the gel into the bristly little valley, working it in until the gel became a foam, and then I picked up the razor gingerly.
“You’ll remember this all your life,” I told her just before I started. “In a good way too.”
I gently slid the blade through the thick, dense stubble, amazed at how much the hair had grown since I had suggested my doing this to Joyce yesterday. Taking special care so I didn’t nick her, I worked my way around the deep recess slowly, enjoying this task immensely, and by the time I was done I was quite proud of myself.
“A beautiful job, if I do say so myself,” I crowed, talking the damp cloth and wiping away the stray foam before surveying the silky smooth hollow.
“You know something,” Joyce said, her eyes with a faraway look to them. “I thought this was a goofy idea but…”
“Now you think it’s one of the most erotic things imaginable,” I said, hopefully finishing her thought, and when she nodded I smiled.
“Really good for me too,” I added.
“So I see,” Joyce remarked, looking over at my cock, which was hard again.
“Quality control,” I said, leaning down and running my tongue over her underarm, making her shiver. “Smooth as a baby’s bottom.”
“Don’t take quite so long on the other side,” Joyce warned me, and I knew what she meant, because I had that special something else in mind when I got done.
:::::::::::::::
Chapter Fifteen: Epilogue.
Joyce’s parents came back as scheduled, but before that we managed to burn off a lot of energy with each other. The day that her folks came back, I made a point of saying hello when I saw them, and tried to act as natural as I could. This most likely made things appear odd for no reason, but nothing was ever said. After they returned, Joyce and I never were intimate again.
Joyce went off to college and by the time she graduated had found herself a lucky guy, just as I had told her she would, and says she is enjoying a wonderful life. The last time I saw her visiting her parents, she had a adorable child and a cute little pair of breasts, obtained the natural way. She didn’t need them – never did – because she was beautiful anyway, but she seemed happy about them and herself.
As for me, I moved on as well and have since remarried, and am very happy. Neither of us are perfect but we love each other the way we are, and isn’t that all you can ever ask out of life?