Don't Be Afraidbyfurryfan©
This story involves a retired man and a young woman whose paths cross one afternoon...
Chapter One: She looked familiar.
She looked familiar, but for the life of him he just couldn't remember who she was. That's what starts to happen when you turn 60, he figured, but it doesn't make it any better to have an excuse for a failing memory.
He had seen her back in the fields the weekend before, only that time she was with some tall, skinny guy. They had been looking at plants and things back there, and were taking notes while they gathered specimens that afternoon, but today she was by herself. She was short and chubby, with dark brown hair that she wore shoulder length, and the glasses that she wore were big and round with thick lenses.
It wouldn't exactly be considered stalking, since the land back there was technically his, but he was watching the young woman intently. Just trying to remember who she was or where he knew her from, he reasoned to himself.
She was wearing a sweatshirt and shorts today, much like she had the other day, but today was much warmer. Too warm for that top, and almost as if she had read his mind, she unzipped the sweatshirt and tied it around her waist.
The young woman was wearing a white tank top underneath, and when that sweatshirt came off, the tall elderly gentleman immediately started walking toward her. Just trying to remember who she was, he kept telling himself, all the while fixated on the girl's enormous breasts that hung unsupported in the cotton top.
"Hello there," he said cheerfully.
She had not seen him approaching, and pushed her horn-rimmed glasses up her nose as she looked in his direction. Hurriedly, she tried to get the sweatshirt untied and back on, but only succeeded in dropping it.
When she bent down to pick it up, the man got a delightful view of her cavernous cleavage and a considerable part of her massive bosom as well, causing an immediate stiffening of a particular part of his anatomy.
"Oh, sorry," the young lady said, holding the sweatshirt in front of herself while looking at him funny. "Uh - Mr. Yorkshire?"
"That's right, and who might you be?" he mused aloud, unable to put a name to the face to save his life, although it was right on the tip of his tongue.
"I'm Cathy. Cathy Bauer. I used to live around here," she declared, and after she saw him still with a lost expression on his face, gave him another hint. "Down by the four corners?"
"Oh yes," the man said, and although he really didn't remember the name, at least there had been a reason that the face had been vaguely familiar. "Haven't seen you in a long time."
"We moved a few miles west way back when I was in fourth grade," Cathy said, continuing to push her horn-rimmed glasses up her sweaty nose.
"I recall you used to ride your bike down the road really fast," he said, his eyes working overtime as he surveyed the chubby gal's assets, which were considerable.
"That was me," Cathy said with a grin.
"Of course, you were such a little girl way back then, and now - well, you certainly aren't a kid any more," Mr. Yorkshire said, trying to peek around the sweatshirt that the girl was using to block his view of those big breasts. "You're quite the woman now."
Cathy shrugged and blushed, moving a step back toward the tree.
"Want to get in under the shade?" Mr. Yorkshire suggested. "That sun is brutal today."
"Uh... yeah, it is," Cathy said, and turned and stepped back into the shade, with Mr. Yorkshire in quick pursuit.
Cathy had a very full butt on her, and while her calves were plump, they were shapely. She was very short, he thought to himself. Maybe 5'1" or 5'2" at best, but there was a lot of woman packed into that short frame.
"There, this is better," Mr. Yorkshire said, wiping his brow as he stood next to the girl. "With these clothes on I'm not dressed for a hot day like today myself either. I saw you all bundled up in that sweatshirt and figured you must have been sweating up a storm too."
"Yeah, it is hot," Cathy responded.
"I saw you back here last week," Mr. Yorkshire said. "You were with a tall fellow. Boyfriend?"
"Ryan? No, I wish," Cathy blurted out. "We are doing a botany term paper in school and he got stuck with me as a partner."
"Where is he today?"
"With his girlfriend, I guess," Cathy guessed.
"And you get stuck doing all the work?"
"It isn't so bad," Cathy reasoned. "I love it back here. I used to come back here all the time when I was a kid. That's how I knew this would be a good place to find samples. Plus, it's so peaceful and secluded."
"Except when an old man comes back here and ruins it," Mr. Yorkshire suggested.
"Well, it is your land, isn't it?" Cathy said apologetically. "I'm probably trespassing."
"You're welcome anytime, Cathy," he told her. "Someone as pretty as you makes the place even more attractive to the eye."
Cathy pushed her glasses back up her nose and smiled, obviously not used to getting compliments like that. She was cute in her own way, but was obviously no raving beauty. Still and all, the man's words did have the desired effect.
"And you say that your young friend won't be joining you today?" Mr. Yorkshire asked, and when Cathy nodded he smiled in response.
"Here, why don't we hang this thing up here so you don't have to lug it around?" Mr. Yorkshire offered, but took the sweatshirt from Cathy before getting a response, and hung the hood over a branch beside him.
Cathy's hand reached out weakly and tried to grab it, but it was already up on the branch, leaving her feeling rather under-dressed under the prying eyes of her old neighbor.
Chapter Two: Exploring Cathy.
Mr. Yorkshire smiled at seeing Cathy's obvious discomfort. She crossed her arms over her chest, but there was so much chest that it was impossible, and the action merely forced more of her tits up to the scoop neck of her blouse for his enjoyment.
"What's the matter, dear?" Mr. Yorkshire asked. "You aren't frightened of me, are you?"
"No," Cathy squeaked. "It's just that I'm not really dressed - you know. Wasn't expecting anybody to see me like this."
"Oh, I thought that was the way most young women dressed these days," he mused. "You know what I mean, flaunting their assets for all to see. Although I can't say I would blame you there."
"Nobody wants to look at me," Cathy said. "I'm fat."
"Quite the contrary," Mr. Yorkshire said. "You're an incredibly attractive young lady that I find quite pleasing to the eye. Don't care much for the skin-and-bones look myself. I much prefer looking at a real woman such as yourself."
"Hard to believe that the little girl with the streamers on her bike's handle-grips became such a beautiful woman," Mr. Yorkshire said in a soothing bass voice, "So pretty you are, and so incredibly well developed too."
As he spoke, his weathered hand reached over to Cathy's chest, but instead of going to her breasts, it settled on Cathy's forearm. The action made Cathy jump, but he smiled again and began moving his hand along Cathy's arm from her wrist up to her elbow.
Cathy's breathing had become more rapid, and her chest heaved violently as she watched the long thin fingers of Mr. Yorkshire move. Cathy's forearms had a rather dense growth of fine, dark brown hairs on them, and they both watched as his fingers made the fine hairs flutter as they passed over them.
"They say," Mr. Yorkshire continued, his voice breaking a little. "They say that if a girl has a lot of hair on her arms, she's probably got quite a bit of hair between her legs as well. Is that true in your case, Cathy?"
Chapter Three: Well?
The moment of silence became two minutes, and the tension in the air was thick as Mr. Yorkshire kept stroking Cathy's forearms. Her pale skin had become coated with goose bumps, and the hair was standing almost straight up as Cathy took a half-step back, putting her right up against the tree.
"Well?" Mr. Yorkshire asked in a calm and fatherly tone. "Do you?"
"I think I have to go," Cathy said, looking at the sweatshirt dangling from the branch behind the man.
"Do you?" he asked. "That's a shame, because I thought we were having such a nice time back here. Do you really have to go, or are you just saying that?"
Cathy shrugged her shoulders, her arms still guarding her chest, and to the surprise of both of them, they remained there when Mr. Yorkshire's hand moved down from her arm and to the elastic waistband of her shorts.
"Let's see now," Mr. Yorkshire mused, his hand pressing against Cathy's soft belly and smoothly sliding under the elastic of both her shorts and her panties.
He expected Cathy's hand to come up and slap him in the face, or at the very least grab his hand as it slid down under her panties, and if it had that would have been the end of it. Instead, Cathy just kept looking at him with her eyes wide open and her breathing ragged as the tips of his fingers came into contact with what he was looking for almost immediately.
"Ah yes!" Mr. Yorkshire sighed as his fingers raked through what felt to be an incredibly thick jungle of hair between Cathy's legs. "I guess that old adage is proving to be true in your case, Cathy. You are quite hairy down there."
Cathy's entire body shuddered as the hand slid along the furry opening of her pussy, and she gasped as the fingers kept moving up and down her labia.
"I know that's not popular these days," Mr. Yorkshire said ruefully while continuing to stroke her pussy. "Pubic hair I mean. I see all these girls on the Internet, and most of them seem to shave their pussies. Appalling!"
"Please," Cathy whimpered, but there was no explanation besides the word, and Mr. Yorkshire felt Cathy begin to subtly grind herself into his hand as he kept stroking.
"Your pubic hair is rather wiry," he said. "Has a little spring to it. Very nice to the touch, and there's so very much of it as well. Tell me, does it spill over onto the inside of your thighs?"
Cathy remained silent and still had her arms covering her breasts, which amused the man a bit, considering what was going on below.
"You can talk to me, you know Cathy," he continued. "I know that you're a little confused by all of this. So am I, to be honest. It's not like I do this everyday. I am liking this, however, and so are you. I can tell, because you're getting wet down there."
"I'm scared," Cathy confessed, her glasses being to fog up a little, which only added to her dazed appearance.
"You aren't a virgin, are you?" he asked.
"Uh no, not really," Cathy said.
"Not really?" Mr. Yorkshire asked. "Can't say that I understand that."
"I was kidding around with two guys, and they had some grass and we got high. The next thing I knew, they were both - you know."
"Yeah. Tommy Brady had his dick in my pussy and Lloyd Watkins had his dick in my bottom."
"Well, I guess that means you aren't a virgin," the man chuckled. "You've had anal sex? That's something I've never really been interested in. Always been more of a pussy man, I guess. Tell me, Cathy - did it hurt when the lad put his cock in your ass?"
"A little," Cathy said, sweat trickling down the sides of her face. "Lloyd's dick wasn't as big as Tommy's, or else it would have hurt lots more."
"I see. So this Tommy fellow had a large penis? Did you like that?"
"I guess," Cathy said.
"Do you still see these fellows?"
"No. I'm mad at them because they told everybody what they did to me."
"That wasn't nice of them. A gentleman never tells, you know," Mr. Yorkshire declared. "Just like I would never say a word about what we're doing back here now. One thing that I find odd, is that you've told me all of these intimate things and yet you still cover up your chest like you have something to be ashamed of. Let's get this blouse off of you now. What say you?"
Without waiting for a reply, Mr. Yorkshire took his hand from between her legs and raised the bottom of Cathy's blouse. She made a weak protest, but Mr. Yorkshire was persistent. After getting the blouse over her bosom, he lifted it up over her upraised arms.
As he pulled the blouse off, he glanced at a branch just a couple of feet over the Cathy's head. When the blouse got up near her wrists, he twisted the fabric and hung the end of the blouse over the limb.
The effect of this was that Cathy's hands were tangled up in the blouse, leaving her arms stuck up in the air. While the bondage wasn't at all secure, she didn't try to get free and instead stood there pretty much naked from the waist up.
"Incredible," Mr. Yorkshire said in a hoarse whisper, and his hands moved up to cup the largest breasts he had ever had the pleasure of touch.
Cathy's enormous breasts hung down to her waist despite the lifting action that her upraised arms provided. His hands kneaded the massive, bell-shaped jugs roughly, causing Cathy to moan softly, and her nipples responded by popping out like bullets, the stiff pegs centered in the middle of her pebbled aureoles, which were as big as drink coasters.
"You like what I'm doing to your breasts?" Mr. Yorkshire asked in a low growl. "You like these jugs handled rough?"
"Yes," Cathy said, her voice trembling as much as the rest of her.
The elderly man's hands were large, and his fingers long and bony, but they were overwhelmed the size of her tits, which were as heavy as they looked.
"Pity," he man said under his breath, noting the girl's armpits, which were shaved. The back of his hand slid along her plump underarms, feeling the bristle of the faint 5 o'clock shadow that coated her moist armpits, and even though it was far out of fashion, he still would have enjoyed seeing what Cathy would have looked like untrimmed.
Mr. Yorkshire untangled Cathy's hands from their binding, and when he set the blouse on the ground, Cathy's arms came down and crossed her bosom again.
"Sorry," Cathy said, after the man pulled her arms down. "I feel naked out here like this."
"We're all alone," the man assured her. "If it would make you feel better, here."
His eyes focused on Cathy's, Mr. Yorkshire calmly undid his belt, letting his pants drop to the ground. A flick of his wrist unsnapped his boxers, and after he took them down, he smiled at Cathy.
"Rather rude not to look," Mr. Yorkshire said with a smile. "I'm not that horrible to look at, or so I've been told."
Cathy glanced down for a second, and then did a double take before looking back up at the elderly man, making a choking noise as she looked up into the tree.
"Cathy," Mr, Yorkshire said in as soothing a voice as he could manage under the circumstances, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off. "What's wrong?"
Cathy shook her head, biting into her lower lip hard as she fought not to look. Finally, her eyes drifted downward, toward Mr. Yorkshire's cock, which was pointing straight at her.
"Your penis," Cathy said while trying not to hyperventilate. "It's so big."
Her eyes looked at the cock which bobbed menacingly in her direction. The shaft was richly veined, and had to be at least 8 inches from the tip of the mushroom shaped glans to the base of the thick shaft, which was surrounded by a silver nest of pubic hair.
"You think so?" Mr. Yorkshire asked as if he didn't realize. "Am I bigger than your friend Tommy?
Cathy's head nodded up and down quickly, and as she looked warily at Mr. Yorkshire's swollen member, he took her hand and brought it over to his manhood, placing it on the shaft and waiting patiently for her chubby hand to clutch it. When she did, he groaned and began to move his hips forward and backward.
"Oh! That feels so good, honey," he moaned.
"It's getting even bigger," Cathy whimpered. "I can feel it getting fatter."
"Think how nice it will feel in that hairy pussy of yours," Mr. Yorkshire said as he tossed his shirt on the ground next to the trunk of the tree. "Lay down on there, Cathy."
Mr. Yorkshire eased the girl down onto the shirt and knelt down on the ground between her legs, feeling his knees creak as he did. Parted her plump thighs, he lowered his face down into her delta, and used his tongue to burrow through the jungle of hair until her found her moist opening.
Cathy cried out as she felt his tongue swabbing her clitoris, and Mr. Yorkshire grabbed her chubby butt cheeks and pulled her toward his mouth as he tongued her enthusiastically. The scent of her musky pussy almost made him pop his load right then and there, and it was only after he was able to get control of himself that he dared to climb up between her legs.
Cathy had been gasping harder and faster while the elderly man went down on her, but when he stopped and climbed up between her legs, she had a terrified look on her face as she saw his swollen member in his hand, while he moved it closer to her opening.
Chapter Four: Don't be afraid.
"Don't be afraid," Mr. Yorkshire gasped. "Just relax."
Easier said than done, and in fact he was as scared as Cathy was. His heart was racing and sweat was dropping off his brow like rain as he brought the head of his cock between her labia and pushed forward.
She was tight - incredibly so. As he pushed forward, it seemed like an impossible task, but he was so hard - harder than he remembered being in years - and he wanted her so badly, that in the end he just fell forward.
Cathy cried out as his thickness drove into her, but after he moved his tool in and out of her a few times, she became looser, and he was able to get more of his cock into her. After a dozen thrusts or so, she was holding onto his arms while he worked himself deeper into her.
Mr. Yorkshire looked over Cathy's head for the first minute, fearing that he would cum too soon, but as he kept thrusting, he began to relax. He was now drilling almost all of his member into Cathy, and the result was that the girl was suddenly arching her neck and crying out, followed my her pussy clenching down on his cock savagely while she came.
"Good... so good," Cathy whimpered after her body stopped shaking.
"Play with your tits for me," Mr. Yorkshire said. "Squeeze them like I was doing."
Timidly at first, Cathy grabbed her breasts and began to knead them. As Mr. Yorkshire encouraged her, she become more brazen with her fondling, and when she came again, she was grabbing them so hard that she left marks on the pale, fleshy jugs.
"Gonna cum," Mr. Yorkshire grunted as his thrusting slowed.
"Please. Not in me," Cathy said as the first jets of his seed went deep into her womb, and while he pulled himself out of her fast enough to send a few spurts of his cum onto her bush and her belly, he knew that he had also left quite a load inside of her.
"I'm too old to shoot anything but blanks, Cathy," he said with more confidence that he felt, but she seemed satisfied with that answer, and after they rested for a moment, they began to put their clothes on.
"Was it good for you, honey?" Mr. Yorkshire asked. "Better than your first time?"
"Yeah, way better" Cathy said. "I"m really aching down there now though. If I wasn't so sore, I would do it with you again. I liked it."
"Afraid I'm too old for that kind of thing again that soon," he said, although if he had a little time to recover, who knows?
They walked through the field, Mr. Yorkshire enjoying watching Cathy waddle like she just got off of a horse. When they got to his back yard, Mr. Yorkshire asked Cathy if she wanted to come to his house for a while, but she declined.
"Better get home," Cathy said. "Maybe I'll stop by some other time though. Okay?"
"More than okay," he assured her. "I'll be looking forward to it."
thanks for reading