Opal and Jacob: A Love Story

As a college student needing to earn extra money to help myself stay afloat, I took to mowing yards March through October, then raking November through February. The pay was good, and it served as excellent exercise, so as far as I was concerned it was win-win. Although I had a fixed rate insofar as what I charged, I did make concessions for the elderly and infirm. One such example of this was Opal Entwistle. When I first approached her about her yard, I had to be completely honest about its unkempt state. "Because of all the cleaning up I would need to do first, Ma'am, not to mention that the grass is over a foot tall, I'd have to charge you fifty dollars the first time out, but every time thereafter, I'll charge you just twenty."

"Well, that lazy granddaughter of mine isn't going to do it, so I guess I don't have much choice," she said. "Can you do it today?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll get right on it."

The cleaning itself, which included getting up limbs and pine cones, took almost two hours while the mowing took about thirty minutes. Once finished, I told her that it needed a good raking and I would charge just fifteen extra for that, and she complied. That took another two hours, but as I explained to her, now when I came back every three weeks it would be a much simpler job. She wrote me a check, thanked me, and I was on my way.

I liked Mrs. Entwistle from the start. She was a feisty old gal, but she seemed to have a good heart. As I worked that day, and every time thereafter, she would bring me a glass of lemonade because I "looked parched." I would take a five-minute break and drink with her as we talked, then it was back to work.

The third time I was at her house mowing, as I passed by a window looking into her living room, I glanced over and saw her ironing a dress. All she had on was her underwear, that is, panties, and nothing more. She had huge breasts that sagged, but not to any great degree. I just stopped and stared as she ironed while watching TV. She eventually looked my way, so I immediately got on my way to finishing her yard.

Afterward, I loaded my mower back into my pick-up, pulled a bottle of water from my cooler, lit a cigarette, and took a moment to myself before collecting my pay. It was at this time that Amy, Opal's granddaughter, pulled up in the driveway. She looked at me and said, "Hard at it, huh?"

"Was," I said as I exhaled. "Finished now, though."

She rounded the front of my truck and put on a pleasant smile. "Jacob, do you think you could rake a six-by-six area for me out back? I was wanting to catch a little sun today."

She could have asked me to dig a hole to China and I would have. She was one of the hottest women I have ever seen, but I had never seen her in her bathing suit. "Sure. Why don't you go get changed and I'll have it done by the time you get back out here?"

"You're a sweetie," she said as she skipped to the entrance of her house. I finished my cigarette, then my water, and then I made my way out and raked an eight-by-eight, hoping she'd notice. She came back out with a towel wrapped around her and one under her arm to lay down on. She saw the area, then said, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," I said. I just stood there, not thinking.

"Was there something else?"

"What? NO! I ... Would you like to go out some time?"

"Well, I'm seeing someone."

"Can I at least see what you look like in your bathing suit, then?" I meant it as a joke, but ...

"Perv. Get the hell out of here."

I went to the front door, knocked, and received payment for my service, then left. Amy made it a point to avoid me every time thereafter, but no big loss. In the months that followed, my five-minute breaks with Mrs. Entwistle grew to ten, fifteen, twenty ... I enjoyed talking to her. She had led a pretty interesting life, and she seemed to be up to snuff on current trends. I even got to the point where I would call her before coming to mow. "I'm headed to the store. Can I pick up anything for you?"

There was always something she needed because, "That lazy granddaughter of mine won't go whenever I need her to," so I was happy to oblige.

On one particular day, I called, and she asked me to pick up some baby red potatoes and baby carrots. "Today is Amy's birthday, so I'm going to make her favorite: pot-roast."

I delivered the groceries, then got to work mowing. Afterward, we talked for about half an hour, then she paid me, and I took my leave. About two hours later, Mrs. Entwistle called me. She sounded distraught. "I'm so sorry to bother you, Jacob, but I really don't have anyone else with whom I can talk."

"It's okay, Mrs. E. What seems to be the problem?"

"It's Amy," she began. "Here I've cooked this nice dinner for her and she told me she's spending the evening with friends. I asked if she'd be home in time for late supper, and she told me to just put it in the fridge and we could eat it as leftovers."

"Well, I think she is being very disrespectful," I said. "You went through all that trouble ... She should appreciate that of you. I sure as hell would."

Silence, then, "Well, why don't you come over and join me for dinner?"

"Me?"

"Sure. Why not? When's the last time you had a nice, home-cooked meal, anyway?"

I didn't want to tell her damn near every night seeing as to how I knew how to cook since the age of fifteen, so I graciously accepted. "It's been a while, Mrs. E. Okay, what time?"

"Oh, any time, Jacob. When would you like?"

I figured the sooner I got there, the sooner I could leave without Amy seeing me. The last thing I wanted to do was cause strife between she and her grandmother, or more between she and myself. "I can be there in about thirty minutes," I told her. I hung up the phone, got dressed, and was on my way.

"Wow, Mrs. E, this is without a doubt the best pot roast I have ever eaten."

"Why, thank you, Jacob," she said with a prideful smile, "and call me Opal. The secret is to sear the meat first, then make a rue, and then add just enough water to make a nice, thick gravy. I add that to the crockpot, and voila, my grandmother's pot roast recipe." We ate in silence for about a minute, then she said, "So why is it that you aren't out on a date on a Saturday night?"

I finished chewing and swallowing a potato, then answered, "Oh, well, after my girlfriend and I broke up, I just threw myself into work and my studies. This is the closest thing to a date I've had in almost four months." She looked at me when I said that, so I added, with my most pleasant smile, "And I couldn't think of anyone better to be with."

"Oh, pishaw," she said with a laugh. "You're better suited for my Amy."

"Amy and I travel in different circles," I told her. I then placed a hand upon one of hers and said, "Besides, I've always been attracted to older women."

"You have?"

"Oh, yes. In fact, the older, the better." The moment I said that, I immediately regretted it. The statement was true, but even though I was joking, I didn't want to send the wrong signal. As luck would have it, though ...

"Wh-What are you saying, Jacob?"

I had lost all command of my vocal chords. My mouth moved, but nothing came out.

She bowed her head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to read anything into that. I mean, what could I possibly offer anyone, much less a young man such as yourself?"

"Oh, Opal," I said as I took her hand once again. I had to do some kind of damage control. "You are one of the nicest, sweetest women I have ever known. You are truly a good woman in a world filled with selfishness and entitlement. Anyone would be lucky to have someone like you." I thought about her boobs then, that time I was mowing and I stopped at her window and just watched as she ironed her clothes, and I got an erection.

"Do you mean that, Jacob?"

"Of course, I do," I answered even as my dick pushed hard against the fabric of my khakis.

She gripped my hand hard, then asked, "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

My diffusing of this wasn't working, so I attempted to employ a different approach. "Opal, you possess all the qualities I would look for in a woman, but let's be honest here: I am a man who has needs. Daily needs. In all honesty, I have to question your ability to satisfy those needs."

"I didn't put three husbands in the grave because we liked to take leisurely nature walks," she retorted. I just looked at her. "I put them there through sex, Jacob. I wore them everyone out." I laughed at this. I didn't mean to, but it just seemed hilarious. "Look, Jacob, I may be eighty-three years old, but I can do for you just as good as any young woman can."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked. "Well, I'm from Missouri, so show me."

Opal wiped her mouth, stood, then said, "I'll be waiting for you in the bedroom."

I just sat there, my cock harder than ever. Did I really want to do this? What if I gave the old bird a heart attack? Even still, pussy is pussy, so I decided to give it a go. I had never slept with a woman this old before, so I was curious about that as well. I stood and made my way to her room to find her already in bed, naked as the day she was born. Her breasts pillowed against her chest and arms. Her legs were wide open. I removed my clothing. My dick was limp.

Opal looked between my legs and asked, "Is something wrong?" but before I could even answer, she said, "It's me, isn't it? My skin is too wrinkly and splotchy. Oh, how could I ever think you could find me attractive?"

"But I do," I said as I continued to stand there in my shame. "It's just ..."

"What?" Opal asked when I did not finish the sentence.

"If I told you, it would change the way you see me," I told her.

She sat up and patted the space next to her. "Come here, Jacob." I sat next to her. "Nothing will ever change the way I see you or feel about you, so tell me what it is."

She had a way of making me feel comfortable enough that I could tell her anything. It had been that way ever since she brought me that first glass of lemonade. I figured What the hell? So, I told her. "Before my Gran died, she and I shared a ... special relationship."

"Oh, I see."

"You remind me so much of her, Opal. I want to be with you, but I can't help but think of her."

"It's not like you are replacing her with me," she said. "What you and she had, nothing will ever change that. This is but a new chapter in your life, if you want it."

I thought about that. "I do."

"Lay back," she said. I did, and she took me into her mouth. My body tensed the tiniest of bits as she went up and down on me, and I felt myself getting hard. "Mmm-hmm," she said around my cock. "Mmm-hmm." She was really getting off on it, and so was I. She quickened her pace some. "Yeah," she managed to say between downward thrusts of her mouth.

I began to imagine that it was Gran doing this, then I asked myself, What for? It was evident that Opal was doing a number on me, and I didn't feel guilty about that one bit. She went quicker. "Oh, Opal. I'm about to cum." She pulled me toward her, taking the entire length of my cock down her throat, and she held me there as my cock spasmed the release of my semen. She finally released me, but she continued to suck my cock for about a minute more, then came off it.

"How was that?"

"Thank you," was my only response.

She smiled, then said, "Your turn," and with that, she lay back and cocked her legs wide.

Okay, before I go any further, I have to clear something up. I did think Amy was the hottest woman I had ever seen, and I have enjoyed sex with a lot of women my age, but when it comes down to it, what I had with Gran? I don't know ... It was my first real relationship, and I guess being with her defined my preference when it came to women, and my preference was exactly what I told Opal: Older, and the older, the better, which is why I did the following:

Instead of going down, I moved upward until my face was even with Opal's. I looked her in the eye and asked, "Is this what you want? Just sex?"

"What more is there to offer?" she asked.

"This," I said, then placed a palm against her cheek and slowly moved in, brushing my lips against hers, and holding them there for damn near half a minute.

When I pulled back, Opal eyed me and asked, "Wh-What are you trying to say, Jacob?"

"I want more than just sex," I told her. "I'd like a relationship. A real, honest-to-God loving relationship, if you think you'd like it, too."

"Jacob, I'm more than sixty years older than you. What could you possibly hope to get from a relationship like that?"

I didn't answer. I just bent down and kissed her again. I knew I was moving fast, too fast, and I was aware that I was transferring the feelings I had for Gran to Opal, but that didn't matter. All I knew at that moment was that I wanted the comfort that an older woman brings to my life, and Opal was that woman.

She did nothing at first, but after a few seconds she began kissing me back. She was a wonderful kisser, too. She knew exactly how to use her tongue—relaxed and gentle, not stiff and merely back and forth—and she held me, hugged me to her, as she did so.

I took one of her large, billowy breasts in my hand and lightly squeezed it. Her breath caught. She grabbed it and held it at my mouth. I took the thick nipple and lavished it with light lashings of my tongue. She repositioned her back just a bit, then grabbed her other breast and plopped the nipple of that one into her own mouth. It turned me on so much. I mounted her thighs, allowed the nipple of her left breast to fall from my mouth, then pulled the right from hers, then I hefted her breasts, placed the nipples in close proximity to each other, and ran my tongue around them in a figure eight. Opal arched her back as she helped me support her large breasts.

Opal had been grunting the whole while about every thirty seconds or so. I really didn't know why until I made to move down, and when I did, I slid with veritable ease. She had been having mini-orgasms which had leaked down her thighs. "My God, Opal."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I said just seconds before I began licking at each until I finally made it to her pussy. It wasn't too hairy, nor was it obscenely cavernous. I licked my way up her slit to her crown jewel. It was so big that I could have placed a two-liter soda cap on it and it would have fit perfectly. I sucked on her clit, though, softly, gingerly. I was still trying to be careful because of her age. She was so into it, though, that she was hooting and hollering as I serviced her, and then it was as if some tiny leprechaun living inside her womb had decided to throw out a bucket of water. Her orgasm was hard, intense, and she drenched my mouth, chin, and chest with her cum. "What the hell?" I exclaimed as I came off her.

Opal laughed. "I should have warned you about that."

This was so different from Gran. Gran would cum and her pussy would drip with a thick, white liquid. Opal's cum was clear and watery, not that it mattered. She was my first squirter, and I was really turned on. I began eating her pussy again, and soon she dumped another load of cum onto me. "How much of that do you have inside of you?" I asked in disbelief.

"I don't know, but I can do it all night," she responded.

I moved up, kissed her, and asked, "Would you like to get on top? I'd really like to feel you cum all over me."

Opal smiled and told me to lay down. She carefully climbed atop me, positioned herself just right, and slowly sank down. I reveled in the pleasure of her pussy enveloping my cock. "Now, I can't go too fast," she told me.

"I don't want you to," I said. "Nice and slow, Opal. That's how I like it."

She smiled, then she began to move up about two inches, then back down. "Is this alright?"

"Perfect," I answered with closed eyes and a smile on my face, and we made love, just like that, for the next twenty minutes. Opal came four more times, then I finally came. To come inside such a soft, tender pussy as hers was a treat unto itself. She moved her massive boobs out of the way and lay her head on my chest.

"Thank you," I said to her.

"Thank you." I felt her smile when she said it.

We lay there in each other's arms for about fifteen minutes, then she slid off me and said, "I don't know about you, but I worked up an appetite." We got dressed and returned to the kitchen. She reheated our food in the microwave and we finished our meal together. Afterwards, we enjoyed a slice of cake for dessert. It wasn't until I was halfway finished that she told me it was Amy's birthday cake.

"Opal. No. I wouldn't have eaten it if I knew that. I mean, dinner is one thing, but a birthday cake is ... I don't know; almost sacred."

"Well, if she wasn't being such a tater then none of this would have happened to her."

"Or us," I reminded.

She smiled. "Or us."

I washed her dishes for her and we talked a little more, then I left. I went home feeling really good about the night, and I decided that she was right: If Amy had not been a tater then she could have enjoyed a nice meal and been the one to cut her cake. As a post-script, I never again charged Opal for what work I did in her yard as there is no way to justify charging one's lover for such.

The following Monday, I knew if Amy saw me between classes, she would have something to say, but her vindictiveness came not directly in the form of her, but another. I was in the smoking area talking to a classmate when someone approached from behind and shoved me. He caught me off balance, and I stumbled, but I got my bearings and kept myself from falling. As I began to turn, I heard a voice say, "What kind of monster are you?"

"Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?" I asked when I completely turned.

"You ate Amy's birthday meal and her birthday cake?" he asked. "That's low."

"Okay ... So, how does this involve you?"

"You hurt her, and I'm not going to stand for it."

I looked around, and sure enough, there was Amy standing off to the side. "Oh, okay. Let me guess. Thomas, right? Thomas Maxwell, starting pitcher?"

"What of it?"

"I'm guessing that Amy sees you as an athlete and figures that you just naturally are going to kick my ass. Well, if you want to start tomorrow's game, I suggest you just turn around and walk away, because if you don't, you're going to get hurt."

"And who's going to hurt me?" he asked as he took a step forward. "You?"

"You need to realize two things, Thomas. Number one, I have twenty-five people here who will easily testify that you started this and that I simply defended myself. Number two, Amy is just using you. She talked you into being her knight in shining armor, but believe me when I say she has no honor to defend, and any hint she may have made about giving you some pussy? Don't bet on it. Women like her are users, nothing more."

Thomas took another step forward and shoved me again.

I laughed, then said, "I'm just going to sit on this bench, finish my cigarette, and go to class. You need to be the fuck out of my face before I'm finished." I then sat and took a drag.

Thomas took another step, placing his crotch approximately six inches from my face. "I'm not going anywhere."

I placed my cigarette on the bench, then I drove a vicious uppercut directly into his balls. When he doubled over, I caught him with a right cross to the temple. Thomas crumpled to the ground like wet cardboard. I picked up my cigarette, took the last two drags, and placed it in the ash tray before walking off. I stopped as I reached Amy and said, "Send the whole fucking team next time." Then I went to class.

There were no repercussions from that altercation. Everyone who witnessed it, Amy and Thomas included, remained hush-hush. I did receive a call from Opal later that evening asking why I was bullying Amy's friends. After I explained the situation to her, she had yet another reason to find disappointment in her granddaughter.