Fiona: Good bye to Darryl & Lucinda

On Being the Voyeur

(edited by Kenji Sato..many thanks!)

Fiona's point of view:

I fell into a stupor with my fingers still in my wet pulsating cunt... the aftershocks of my orgasm, was it my second or third? still rolling through my body. Kicking off my shoes, I let my jeans and panties fall to the floor. I held the memory of Lucinda's body firmly in my imagination; even knowing, with absolute certainty, that I would never experience it. That level of finality made up my mind. I could not stay here for much longer. The sexual tension I felt with this grandmotherly dominant female was not reciprocal; but, fuck, I could get off on the fantasy of her...

I put her above me, her hugely exaggerated tits, with super erect nipples, being lowered teasingly into my open mouth; only to be denied, as I stretched my tongue to try to touch those delectable nipples.

A look of salacious delight on Lucinda's face as she denied me what I wanted most now; the suckling of her comforting mammary glands. That denial just further inflamed my desire and my fingers drove me to yet another orgasm... releasing a powerful stream of ejaculate onto the ancient floor boards.

Exhausted, I forced myself off the bed to find something to wipe up the mess I had made. I did not want to use any of my clothes, as I had packed light and wanted to avoid doing laundry. I opened several drawers of the old dressers in the room, finding all but one, empty. In that one, I found some crusty boxers with dried cum. With a grimace of disgust, I closed that drawer.

Getting dressed, I made for the kitchen and grabbed a few paper towels; and those sufficed to polish the old wood floors shiny with the results of my lust.

I was hungry for a second breakfast. Hot tea with lots of sugar and some toast covered with dairy butter and homemade strawberry jam. It was now obvious, that I could not stay on the farm much longer; my infatuation with a woman who could never be a lover, would be destructive to me in the very near future. I firmly believed that Lucinda was bulletproof; there was going to be no emotional toll for her... just bewilderment.

I called Joe to seek his advice. It turned out he anticipated this turn of events, and had a back up plan.

"There is someone else nearby, who has agreed to take you in. A very different setting, classic American, late 20th century suburbia. Gail is a recent widow, she is in her seventies, retired from the same library that Lucinda works. In fact, Lucinda was a student assistant of Gail's many years ago. It is a large three bedroom house, warm and snug... several centuries newer than Lucinda's. Gail can be ready for you midday tomorrow."

Oh drat, as I thought about another night in this place; but, just one more night. I might as well explore the place; get some exercise and then maybe, I will be able to sleep through the ghost hour.

In truth, I don't know why I expected nightly ghostly visitations. All indications were that these occurrences were rare. From the way Lucinda remembered her Aunt Em's story, it sounded very similar to my experience.

Maybe the incestuous lovers only met once? Were they found out, or were they just too scared to repeat their naughty adventure.

I stopped by the cow barn to see Darryl, busy with his chores. He was somewhat brusque, but still polite.

"Most of the farm is safe for wandering around; just stay off tractors and such. And the automated machinery in the cow barn, is just one step away from experimental and somewhat touchy. You are not likely to run into anyone, the daughters are still asleep. They work long shifts at the hospital, and sleep late whenever possible."

I smiled in a polite way, as one does to non-threatening older men. Darryl described the boundaries of the farm; but also added, if I strayed into a neighbor's yard, no one would care too much. Besides, all of them were 'white collar farmers', those who had jobs at the college during the day, and farming as a side activity in the evenings and on weekends.

With that bit of information passed on to me, Darryl got back to his chores.

The property consisted of the farmhouse near the road; the old cow barn, now used to store machinery, a fenced area for the goats; and the new cow barn, which I had just left. Open pasture and a tree lined boundary covered the next several hundreds yards to the northeast. I suspected the tree-line hid a brook that I had seen on an old topographical map, that had been posted in Darryl's and Lucinda's kitchen for many years. I set that brook as my goal.

With no snow on the ground, yet, the fields were bare; the last of the hay long since harvested. The footing was firm, the walking pleasant in the warm sun. Murders of crows would leave the wood-line to my front, loudly protesting... something? An intruder? I didn't think I was much of a threat... perhaps, some predator.

I penetrated the first line of trees, and moved into a forest carpeted with fallen oak leaves and acorns. After several minutes, I could hear the gentle noises of a nearly dry, late autumn stream, moving through the small woodland. As I drew nearer, the stream seemed disproportionately louder. When I finally caught my first glimpse, it was a roaring torrent; and all of the hardwoods around, stood with their full canopies of green!

As I puzzled over this curiosity of having spring-like conditions in the fall; I could plainly see a figure in the near distance; perhaps, halfway between me and the stream. He--and the figure could be nothing but male as I will describe in a moment--was making every effort to be concealed. However, not from me, rather someone, or something, nearer the stream.

The reason I knew him definitely to be male was not from his attire, which could be called 'distressed farm wear.' As it comprised of faded torn and repaired overalls, and a well-stained long sleeve undershirt. His feet were covered in barn boots with hay and manure stuck to the soles. He wore atop his head, a very worn brown felt hat; his face grizzled with several days' growth of grey beard. He appeared to be at least a foot taller than me, and lean; but stooped from years of manual labor. His overalls were unzipped at the front, and I had caught him in the process of retrieving his manhood from within the garment.

My first thought was that he needed to piss and was watching so that whoever was by the stream did not see him urinate.

This theory was soon proven wrong, as his manhood emerged from his garments with some difficulty, I might add. It was mostly aroused, as whatever the flaccid size was, it was now an angry, thick, deeply veined cock; that in my limited experience, was the largest I had seen. Once fully freed from its confinement, he gave it a strong shake with an enormous, calloused fist that was barely half the length, and only just encompassed its girth. That shake was its final awakening and his prick was fully erect in the fresh air.

I had absolutely no desire to feel that monster, or any cock whatever the size, in my pussy. Nevertheless, since my positive experience with Bill, I was VERY interested in the functioning of the male generative organ. The hand job I gave Bill was apparently satisfactory for him and quite pleasurable for me, also.

I have found that I enjoy looking at penises, touching them; making them cum and watching them cum. I even enjoy the sight of a soft cock pissing. Therefore, I was mesmerized by the old farmhand. I surmised that this was Dan, the Daniel that Lucinda and Darryl spoke of. I was perplexed at his presence. Darryl had said that there was no one else around; and Daniel, if indeed that was who this was, was focused on someone down by the brook--someone that aroused him enough to take his dick out to stroke.

My vantage point did not allow me to see what he saw. Indeed, his face was turned almost directly away from me; but, his body was turned so that the head of his cock pointed directly at me. Already, I could see a pearly drop of pre-cum forming at the tip of his cock. The sunlight through the forest canopy spotlighted his cock, as though for the benefit of his audience... me.

Whatever activity he was observing caused 'Daniel' to shift his position, so that now, I got a perfect profile of his hard-on still well lit by the sun; while the rest of him was in relative shadow. His gnarly hand left his aroused cock for an instant, to undo the shoulder straps of his loose fitting overalls which promptly descended to the forest floor, revealing hairy, pale legs and a, frankly, scrawny ass. His scrotum was enormous and hung well below the base of his penis. It swayed like a pendulum as he spit on his rough palm and slowly stroked the shaft of his cock.

Whatever visual stimulation he was getting from down by the brook, it was causing a great increase in the flow of his pre-cum, as a silvery stream descended from his cock head to the forest floor. He paused to wet the head of his cock with this copious flow, never taking his eyes off whatever the scene was below.

He began to grunt softly. I feared that he might be discovered and my show ending; but, the sounds of the stream drowned out the small noises he made. The pace of his stroking increased, his balls swung in a greater arc, until he reached a threshold of inevitability; then they retracted up against his body. Soon, very soon, he appeared to lose control; his measured stroking became a fevered, almost cruel, mashing of his erect organ. A thick, white stream of ejaculate shot out... his cock projected a massive stream of cum in a fantastic arc upward to that gap in the canopy where the sun shone through, reaching its apex; and then splattered on the forest floor several yards away.

This explosion caused 'Daniel' to stagger backwards, almost losing his balance as he nearly tripped over his overalls down by his ankles.

He still gazed down to the brook, as apparently the activity down there continued. He gave his drooping cock a shake, and then another, as if to prolong his fun; but, it was of no use. His generative organ, though still large, refused to stiffen. With a sigh, almost sadly, he pulled up his overalls, refastened the shoulder straps, and almost as an afterthought, zipped them up. Then, turning and walking towards me, I froze in place and held my breath... I did not want to flee. I wanted to see what was happening down by the brook.

Although he passed within several feet of my hiding spot, 'Daniel' never made any sign of seeing me. As he departed the woods and entered the pasture, I lost all sight of him.

Sneaking over to 'Daniel's' vantage point I saw, somewhat to my disappointment, that the activity below had abated; at least at first glance, I could see nothing. Then I realized 'Daniel's' point of view was a good deal taller than mine. I shifted my position slightly to the left, and up a bit of a rise. It was enough, as there was a gap in the foliage I could clearly see through. Barely twenty feet below, was a young couple. Both naked. I could see the woman's face, with a grimace I recognized as a prelude to her O face; that is, if her O face resembled those of some of my lovers. She was looking at their joining point, where his cock was entering her body; she appeared totally enraptured by this sight... was this her first time?

The man maintained a steady pace, a rhythmic in and out, that seemed... practiced, or something from a book? Was this his first time, too? Initially passive, the young woman now began to push back against his thrusting. The steady pace became more random, then intensely rapid, and then really slow, as if trying to maintain control, or to make it last. When she went over the top; all of his efforts at control evaporated. She bucked against him as she came, pulling him down on her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He came with her, or soon after, with a great, bull-like snorting.

They lay still for a time, until the man moved quickly, as if he just remembered... to hold onto the base of the condom he wore on his cock, before it slipped off and spilled its contents in her vagina.

As he rolled free, I could finally see his face... Darryl?!?! But no--a younger Darryl? No, there were no sons; this was the other woman... the woman before Darryl married Lucinda. This was a Darryl that was twenty-something rather than the fifty-something, he is.

I was interested enough in his body to take in details. A medium-sized well-muscled male, great abs, tiny tuft of chest hair, and a dense growth of pubes. A beautiful cock (hmm, a lesbian rating dicks... weird.)

Well except for the well filled condom starting to slip off the shaft.

The girl reached for it... the condom that is. "I want to save it," she squealed. "My first time! My first time with a GREAT guy, Darryl!!"

"Agnes... that is disgusting." But Agnes had already pulled off the condom, the reservoir brimming with his sperm from his dangling dick and tied the end in a knot so as not to lose a drop.

I saw Agnes smile and laugh. She rose and got dressed, in a slow unembarrassed way, at peace with her body, being naked with this naked man she had just copulated with. Darryl wiped the remaining semen off his body with his white jockey shorts, donning his jeans, and stuffing them in a pocket. He pulled on his socks, work boots, and pulled a light colored t-shirt over his torso. I guessed this scene must have actually happened some late spring day, decades ago.

Where is that girl now? As I said that, I realized with a start, that I had not paid any attention to her body--what is up with that?

Agnes kissed Darryl on the cheek... huh? He looked slightly embarrassed, as she departed in the direction away from the farmhouse. Was Agnes one of the neighbor's daughters? This looked like childhood buddies having sex, rather than lovers. They had gotten together because they trusted each other. They could not wait any longer. Neither had a boyfriend nor girlfriend, and it was agreed that the first time would be with someone they had known their entire lives... no romantic b.s. to complicate the sex.

Well that is one way thought Fiona. Not the way I did it, but... that is a story for another time.

(Next Hello Gail.)

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