First Day in the Caribbean 03-04

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The waitress visits to see how he's doing.
7.1k words
4.73
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Part 11 of the 31 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 12/06/2015
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Ennis Piceo
Ennis Piceo
104 Followers

Day 3 is short, so I threw it in with day 4.

*****

The next morning he settled into getting the garden patch ready. It wasn't hard—the garden already had patches of perennials: Jerusalem artichokes, asparagus, and grapes. From the garden he could see a couple fruit trees. The goat/chicken fence looked to be in good shape. He thought up a bike rack design while he worked. It would be easy to put in an hour a day for his part of the bargain. He saw several things that could stand to be done—some work on the two paths, maybe put in a doggie door someplace, more shelves in the storm shelter, and the garden could be as time-consuming as he wanted. And whatever he spent on materials was deducted from his rent. The manual labor would be a nice change from his old desk job, and the exercise would help get him into shape.

At noon Mrs. Mortensen called him in for lunch, and simultaneously he saw Octavia pedaling up the driveway. He waited for her, admiring how she looked as she coasted to a stop. She was wearing a tank top that accented the tops of her breasts, and short shorts. It was obvious she was in good physical shape. "Hi! I didn't expect to see you here! Though I confess I'm delighted. I just got called in for lunch—I'm pretty sure Mrs. Mortensen will be happy to water down the soup."

"Well, I figured you'd end up renting a room, and I came up to make sure she didn't take advantage of your easygoing nature. You could have gotten that bike for less, by the way."

He stuck his head in the door, Octavia in tow. "Hey, Mrs. Mortensen, look what followed me home. Can I keep her?"

"It's Lydia, not 'Mrs. Mortensen,' and yes, but I don't think she'll let anyone exactly 'keep' her. Hi, Octavia."

Over sandwiches they worked out a grocery list and a list of lumber for his shelving project. He and Octavia would bike back to town and Lydia would join him for supper at Rita's and they'd haul the supplies back in her truck.

The ride back was three-fourths downhill, and he discovered that Octavia was a maniac on her bicycle; he could hardly keep up. She had obvious familiarity with the switchbacks that he lacked. Well, that would change. They got into town slightly flushed; she went home to clean up and he headed off to get groceries and lumber. He discovered he could hardly wait to see her again that evening.

He met up with Lydia at the lumber yard and loaded some vegetable plants, several bags of groceries, and his bike into the pickup, not to mention his order of lumber. He was thinking so hard about dinner and seeing Octavia that he lost track of their conversation. Lydia snickered when she had to ask him twice what his plans were for the next day.

Dinner was pretty good. He ordered Octavia's recommendation, and she timed her break so she could sit with them for a while. The two ladies laughed at his jokes; he enjoyed having a new audience. Rita came over to welcome the newcomer and kidded about Octavia ignoring everyone else in the restaurant.

Back at the boarding house, he cleaned up, checked his email, wrote a little, and conked out. Just before he fell asleep, he fantasized about Octavia, picturing that tank top slowly working its way down as she enjoying giving him a show, bending over and dancing around him.

He was up at dawn, watched Lydia take care of the chickens and the goats, and had a couple dozen veggies planted before breakfast. Rover supervised, inspecting everything.

"You planning to fulfil your whole month at once? You put in four hours yesterday and already have three in today." She looked thoughtful. "Do you know canning and how to dehydrate by chance?"

"Ha. When I was a kid, my mom would say that we eat what we can and what we can't, we can. I picked up some knowledge along those lines." He dug into a large omelet. "Do you have a solar dehydrator? I could add one of those to my list of projects."

He had the garden about half planted by the time the sun was high and hot enough to call it a day. Time to go in and work on the shelves. He turned the hose on, rinsed off, and toweled himself fairly dry. Lydia watched from the door. "You're in pretty good shape for a guy your age," she remarked. "No wonder Octavia likes you."

"Thank you. I admit she's pretty agreeable company. I'm kind of surprised she's only a waitress and not in one of the professions. She certainly seems capable."

"I think there's some family reasons, but she says she really enjoys waitressing, too. No reason to do anything else if she's happy, I suppose."

There wasn't any shade, so he pulled the truck out of the garage and set up a work area inside. The workbench was fairly well equipped. "This a pretty nice workshop you have here. Do you do a lot of your own handymanning when you don't have someone like me around?" he asked.

"I manage, but most of these tools are from when my husband was alive. He was lost at sea a few years back."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Part of life. It's not like I'm lonely. I have a pretty good social life. Well, I'll let you get back to work." She stared at him thoughtfully. "Speaking of social life, maybe I'll go visit a friend or two."

As she climbed into the truck, he realized she had been staring at him the whole conversation. "Hmm." He thought.

About the time he had the pieces cut, Octavia showed up. "Howdy. Is Lydia here?" She had on another tank top; this one barely covered her, and it was sweaty, so it clung. He could see her entire generous figure; he was tempted to make panting sounds, but decided it would be crass.

"Actually she just left, maybe twenty minutes ago. I've been getting ready to build that set of shelves."

She pouted in an exaggerated manner. "Aw, I rode all the way up here for nothing. I guess you'll have to do." Her eyes twinkled and she gave a lecherous grin.

"Wanna help me with this?" He asked. "Has to be carried into the basement." It was a bunch of two by fours, some pieces that looked like trim, and several plywood rectangles that looked like shelves.

"Sure!" She went to the end of the two by fours and leaned over to pick them up, looking toward the other end of the lumber. Her top fell completely away from her chest, revealing a pair of boobs to die for.

He stared when he bent down, and their eyes met when they stood. He realized she had been staring at his bare chest when she bent over.

"You do realize that you have a magnificent pair, don't you?"

She blushed a little. "Well, I wasn't thinking about that, exactly, but thank you." She recovered and deliberately hitched the boards up so her breasts would bounce, and she pulled her shoulders back to emphasize the motion. "You like 'em, huh?" She smiled.

"I can't take my eyes off you. It's a good thing I'm not handling sharp objects. I'd cut myself for sure."

"What about Mary?"

He sighed. "It would have been nice to get to know her better, but she disappeared into thin air and hasn't emailed me or anything. So I don't hold out any hope for extending the acquaintance." He smiled. "Let's say I'm really glad I met you."

She asked him about the design of the shelving as they trundled the shelf parts into the back of the house. Meanwhile she teased him with provocative body language, swaying, smiling coyly, arching her back, holding a piece against herself—always when his arms were occupied or they were on the opposite ends of whatever they were carrying.

Finally everything was in the back. After setting down the tool bag, he turned to her. She was standing there, close, arms pulled behind her back to emphasize her figure, batting her eyelashes and smiling at him expectantly. "So how do you thank me for all my help?"

He reached forward, took her face in his hands and kissed her, slowly, lips apart. "Thank you," He murmured. "I'm extremely grateful for everything." He emphasized the 'everything.'

"I haven't been thanked enough. Do that again," she said.

So he did, and she pressed herself against him, putting her hands around his waist and moving them up his back.

Finally he leaned back and looked into her eyes. She held her hips pressed against him and she could feel his manhood. He shook his head slowly and smiled slightly. "I should always be so grateful. You can help me anytime you want. But—I've done enough work for today, and I'm sweaty and dirty. Let's go outside and you can hose me down so I'll be clean enough to take a shower."

"And you're gonna just let me? Let's do it to it!"

When they got to the hose, she took the end and stood in front of him. He braced himself for the blast. Instead, looking at him, she directed the hose at herself, making the water flow down her neck onto her breasts, then into her shorts as if daring him to stop her.

He stared, transfixed. "Are you an exhibitionist?" he asked.

"Yes, and I'm also haptic, and I happen to know that the water in the hose will be nice and warm for a while. Then it gets cold!" and she suddenly directed the spray at him. It was cold and he gasped, then braced himself and turned around to get all rinsed. He resisted the temptation to overpower her and give her a good soaking.

"You didn't wrestle it away from me!"

"I guess I'd rather be a gentleman, but I admit I was tempted," he grinned. "I think you'd make an outstanding wrestling companion."

"Then go for it, mister!" and she directed the stream at his head.

In self-defense he put his hand up and followed the stream down to the hose. Too late she realized his left hand was headed for her and by the time she dodged, his right hand had her wrist. He swung her halfway around dancer style, and ended up with his arm tucked under her breasts and his hands in control of the hose. Holding her against him he directed the stream directly on the top of her head.

"AGGH! b-b-b-b-b." She covered her face. "You got it fair and square. Hose me down." She held out her arms and turned, wincing, while he hosed her down. Her nipples became even more conspicuous.

He tossed the hose aside, and they laughed. "That was certainly, um, stimulating!" His gaze alternated between her face and her figure.

"Say—" she exclaimed. "Did you know this top is reversible? Watch." She tucked her arms inside, turned the top around and put her arms back out. The top, which before had amply exposed her clavicles, now exposed both full, erect-nippled breasts, only a strip of fabric between them.

"I was starting to dry off, but now you're making me sweat again," he grinned.

"We can take care of that!" she dove for the hose and this time he let the wrestling last somewhat longer before they ended up with his arms around her from behind again and the hose directed straight up to shower both of them.

He shivered and kinked the hose to stop the water. "Y'know maybe we should go dry off and warm up before we run Lydia's well dry. Or cistern. Whatever she has up here. My deck is nice and sunny..." She turned off the hose, still bare-chested, and he watched her as he coiled up the hose.

They walked, dripping, up the path and took the stairs to his deck.

He held open the gate for her, bowing her in so deeply that his head blocked her path. She deliberately bumped into him and he stood upright, his front to hers, so they kissed and he swung her onto the deck while he did. "Woman, I think you're trying to lead me on," he chuckled.

"Yes, and you seem pretty willing to be led."

"That I am, I admit," and he kissed her again. As they kissed, he lifted her top up, and she raised her arms, never breaking the kiss.

This caused the top to catch on her chin. She opened her eyes. "Oops!" And she flipped the thin silky fabric over his neck, using it to pull him back into a kiss and pull herself so she could grind her chest and hips against him.

When they came up for air, he asked, "We're kind of dirty. Should we take a shower first, or afterwards?"

She tilted her head. "We're kind of rinsed off; let's shower later. Maybe we can try showering first next time. Let's see who can unfasten the other guy's shorts fastest," and she started to work on his belt.

He followed suit, and since all she had holding her shorts up was a snap and zipper, he won by half a second. They laughed, and embraced again. She hmm'd appreciatively feeling his erect member between her legs. She put her foot up on the corner of the chair, giving him better access to her. He reached down and stroked her inner thigh, then ran his fingers along the edge of her smooth, bare outer lips. She pushed against his hand and he got the hint, sliding a finger to, then into her slit. He bent over to get a better position for his hand and brought his lips to her nipple, playing with it with his tongue and sucking. She grabbed his head, pressing his face onto her. He opened his mouth wide and drew as much of her breast into his mouth as he could. She gasped.

" 'at hur'?" he murmured.

"No it feels gooood."

He moved back and sat on the edge of the chair. "Here. Sit in my lap."

She straddled his knees, moved her feet wide apart, then slowly lowered herself onto his legs while she put her hand around his member. He leaned forward to take in her other nipple and she pulled on him with one hand and cupped his balls with the other.

He forced his knees apart to make a little more room, and placed a hand over her pussy, moving it back and forth while his mouth and other hand played with her nipples.

She scooted closer and propped her feet on each side of his hips. She grabbed the back of his neck. "Think you can lift me?"

"I can try; might be fun!" He leaned forward to get up, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. As soon as there was room she wrapped her legs around his waist. Then she was airborne, resting on his member.

"I like this, but I want you to impale me."

He lifted her hips and soon she was high enough for him to move to her entrance. She used one hand to get the alignment just right. "Okay, let me down. Slowly. I want to enjoy this."

He could feel her surrounding him, deeper and deeper, warm and moist and tight. She moved her hips so he could enter all the way. Finally she was full and he was fully inside. They were a good match. He bounced her on his member as he walked toward the wall, finally pressing her against it. He held her there and used one hand to push open the door to his room, then resumed the journey. She moved her legs to enhance the bounce inside her, and began to moan.

He reached the bed and fell forward onto it, on her. She was about to squeal in delight when the bed collapsed! The corner where they lay was on the floor, the rest at an angle. After a moment, they both burst into laughter. "Well, that's some excitement I hadn't counted on! Lets hope this thing is reparable." They disengaged and he bent over to look at the damage. Standing behind him, she reached between his legs and grabbed him. "Here—let me hold your flashlight," she quipped.

He kept his knees apart and gasped as he looked the bed over. "I think a mattress slat came loose. I'll hold the mattress up and you set the slat back on the little shelf."

She kept her arm between his legs and replaced the slat, then slowly drew her hand back, stroking his penis and balls.

He took a deep breath. "Well, that was an interesting mishap. Enjoyable, too. Shall we try again?" And he grabbed her and dumped her on the bed, most of her legs hanging over the edge. This time no collapse.

"Let's see, where were we?" She said. "Oh yes! You were banging the dickens out of me."

"I think it's my turn to sit on your lap." And he straddled her knees and slowly lowered himself toward her. She forced her knees apart, causing him to bend his own, and he tipped forward, catching himself with a hand on each side of her head. His penis rested on her naked mound.

She rocked her hips, and he slid into her groove, right against her clit. "Mmm." She kept moving, and he picked up her rhythm. She reached down and pressed him against her. "Ah, nice. Just the right pressure."

"Feels pretty good to me, too," he gasped.

She was doing more to his penis than just pressing it against her. Somehow she was rotating her fingers in his glans and pulling his skin down. It was driving him crazy. He started to shudder. "Uh, better be careful, unless you want me to come all over your stomach."

She pushed him down so he went inside her. "Not a bad idea, but not this time. I want you inside me." And she began to buck against him, driving him into her.

Again he reciprocated, faster and faster, until she shuddered, rocked her head back and forth, and screamed. Her ecstasy drove him over the edge and he came, pounding into her with reckless abandon.

Finally they were both sated, and he plumped on the bed next to her. She lay on her back, panting slightly, and took his hand and laid it on her breast. He squeezed gently.

"Well. I'm willing to do that again, for sure." She rolled toward him and draped a leg over his. "I want to shower first at least once, a warm one, not a hose one, and you didn't play with my girls quite enough, so I want some more of that, not to mention that I have this book on positions and I'd like to try a few. Or a bunch. You okay with that, Mister Aschie-doodle?" She traced lines on his face with her fingertip.

"I can't think of a better way to die, orgasmed to death in the arms of a beautiful woman." He drew a circle with his finger around the nipple on her tanned, perfect breast. Suddenly he stiffened. "When do you have to leave for work?"

"Ah! I got the day off. I have all night. I forgot to tell you. Would you have gone slower if you had known?"

"I never even thought of it, but I suppose if you had asked to take all night, I might have tried."

"Well, you took just the right amount of time. And we have the rest of the evening to kill if we want." She wiggled closer so her pussy pressed against his leg, and sighed. "You sure are comfortable, but we ought to get cleaned up. Maybe grab a bite to eat. Having sex gives me an appetite!"

They scrubbed each other down in the shower, each enjoying the feel of soapy hands on the other's body. Asch even began to feel stirrings in his loins when she silkily "cleaned" his privates, repeatedly running her encircling soapy hands from tip to base and all over his scrotum, and she leaned back against him and moaned contentedly when he described his actions, "I love the feel of my soapy hands running over your perfect breasts, encircling them and feeling your erect nipples under my fingers. I also like rubbing soap down your front, back up your sides, and back down to your thighs and over your smooth pussy." He continued along this line until she turned around to face him, without losing contact, and kissed him to make him shut up.

She used two towels to dry off—one for her hair, and one for the rest of her. He went out to the deck to get their clothes, and they dressed each other, with plenty of touching, caressing, laughing, and kissing.

Octavia suggested they take a walk along the ridge, so they threw together some sandwiches, soda, chips, and his bedspread in his backpack and headed out.

"I'm still so horny I can't keep my hands off you," Octavia said as they headed out the trail. She had an arm around him, and kept pulling him to her.

"Well, I don't object to that. I never heard of a man who didn't like a horny woman, in fact. We could walk like this; I'm kind of horny too." And he stepped behind her, his feet an inch behind hers, and he put his hands on her breasts and held her to him.

"You're doing it wrong!" she exclaimed. "Your hands go inside my shirt." And she grabbed his wrists and placed his hands on her bare tits underneath the tank top. She left her own hands on his and relaxed into his embrace.

He gently kissed her neck and she wiggled her shoulders in appreciation.

Ennis Piceo
Ennis Piceo
104 Followers
12