tagNonConsent/ReluctanceA Gardener's Tale

A Gardener's Tale

byMr James©

Sylvia straightened from planting her border and gently massaged the small of her back. At sixty, she was finding it harder and harder to keep up with her garden. She still planted and weeded the flower beds, but mowing the lawn and the heavy digging had become just too much for her. She had been at a loss for a solution, until she had mentioned her difficulty to Peter and Joan, who had the house next door. They had listened to her explaining that she would have to advertise in the local paper for a handyman and sympathised with her. The next day, Robert, their son had knocked on her door.

“Mom and Dad said you needed a hand in your garden, Mrs Greene.” Robert said, looking down at his feet, “I don’t know much about plants and stuff, but I can use a spade and push a mower.”

“Robert,” she answered him, “I could use the help, but I can’t afford to pay you much, if at all, and I’m sure you have better things to do than help an old woman.”

“You’re not old, Mrs Greene, I mean…” Robert was almost stammering.

Sylvia had laughed at his confusion and said “Robert, I’m sixty, older than your Mom. How old are you now? Twenty, Twenty-one?”

“Twenty-one, Mrs Greene. But it’s no trouble to help you out and I don’t want paying.” Robert blurted out.

At first Sylvia had been reluctant, wary of becoming reliant on him, in case he realised that there were better things to do with his time and just stopped coming over. Gradually, though over months they had struck up a friendship. It had become a comforting routine and they had moved from ‘Mrs Greene’ and ‘Robert’ to ‘Sylvia’ and ‘Rob’. One or other of the days of most weekends would find them working in the garden, Robert doing the heavy work and Sylvia planting or pruning. After a mornings work, they would adjourn to her kitchen for lemonade and homemade cookies, or hot chocolate and marshmallows, depending on the weather.

Robert looked around from his digging, noting the last of the empty pots in the carrier and began to clean the blade of his spade. Sylvia picked up her trowel and kneeler and carried them back to the shed, setting them onto the bench, while Robert hung the spade on the pegs, fastened to the back wall. They left their muddy boots by the kitchen door and she opened the refrigerator, taking a jug of lemonade from the shelf inside and putting it on the kitchen table. Robert washed his hands at the sink, carefully scrubbing the earth from under his fingernails. Drying his hands on the towel he moved aside, so that Sylvia could wash hers.

Despite her age and the stiffness in her joints, Sylvia had kept a slender figure, her breasts still high and firm; although they hung lower than in her twenties. Her hair ash blonde, rather than grey was still shiny and her grey eyes still clear and penetrating. Robert suddenly found his mouth drying, as he watched her at the sink, and he stepped closer to her. She turned to find him very close and, before she could protest, or even speak, he had grabbed her roughly and kissed her mouth, circling her with his arms and pressing himself against her. Gasping, Sylvia pulled away and looked at him in shock and a little fear. She only now realised how well-built Robert was, his youthful vigour now becoming menacing. She pushed him away and looked into his eyes, seeing a complex maelstrom of emotions boiling there.

“Robert! What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice calm and controlled.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Mrs Greene.” Robert stammered, “I don’t know what I was thinking of. You just looked so – so hot. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

He seemed to have become the tongue tied boy who had first tapped on her door and Sylvia felt her fear subsiding. Sliding past him she moved towards the door to the lounge. She could sense his confusion and, now that she had overcome her surprise and fear, wanted to help him.

“Robert, we should talk. Come into the lounge” Sylvia told him.

Robert followed mutely and sat on the edge of the large sofa. Sylvia stood for a moment and then sat on the smaller sofa, opposite. She leaned forward a little and fixed her with her clear gaze, waiting for him to look up at her. He was shaking, although without seeing the expression on his face, Sylvia could not guess why. Eventually he lifted his head and, blushing crimson, he opened his mouth to speak.

“I-I don’t know what came over me.” Robert said, apologetically, “It’s as though something just went inside my head and I had to do it.”

“I don’t know what you were thinking of Robert. You’re a very sweet boy and I thought we were good friends but what made you do it?” Sylvia asked, gently.

Robert said nothing, just wrung his hands in front of her. Sylvia didn’t know what she should do. She stood up, turning towards the door to the kitchen. She had only taken two steps when Robert sprang to his feet and grabbed at her again. She tried to slap his hand away, but she was no match for his youthful vigour and he trapped her arms by her sides as he kissed her roughly, forcing her lips open and thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Sylvia was paralysed with shock as he crushed her against his body. His hand moved around, between them and he squeezed her breast, pinching it through her blouse and bra. Then he reached lower and pressed his hand against the front of her skirt, his fingers pushing against her pussy through the material. Forcing her back, he moved her closer and closer to the sofa, until her legs bumped against the cushions and she fell backwards, sprawling across the cushions.

Robert reached down and tried to unfasten the tiny buttons holding her blouse closed. Sylvia batted weakly at his hands, more patting than trying to slap them away. His fingers were suddenly clumsy and fumbled uselessly at the material, until he grunted in frustration and, hooking his fingers in the front of her blouse, he bunched his shoulders and tore it open, like paper. His thick hard fingers pulled the material aside and he pushed the straps of her bra down her shoulders, tugging the soft material of the cups over the swell of her breasts to reveal her nipples, soft and pink against the pale skin. Kneeling, Robert leaned over her and began to suck on the tender points, drawing them into his mouth and nipping them painfully with the edge of his teeth. Sylvia sobbed quietly as he licked and nipped at her, dismayed when the sparks of pain seemed to settle in her belly and make her muscles tighten. Robert placed a hand on her knee, and slid it along her pantyhose, beneath the hem of her skirt. Sylvia tried to force her legs together, to fight him, but he just pushed harder against her thigh, and bit a little harder into her nipple. She felt his hand sliding higher, the rough, work-hardened skin on his palms snagging against the sheer nylon.

Robert pressed his fingers against the front of her panties, moving them back and forth along the tender ridges of her pussy lips. Sylvia bit her lip to keep from crying out as Robert pressed against the tip of her clit and she felt a tiny jolt searing through her. Robert felt her nipple swell and harden in his mouth and pressed his finger against her clit again, stroking it in tiny circles. Sylvia could feel the tension building in her belly as her breasts swelled, pushing her nipple further into Robert’s mouth.

Suddenly, Robert hooked his fingers in the hem of her panties and hose and pulled downwards, dragging them past her hips as she wriggled to try and escape from his grasp. All Sylvia managed was to make it easier for Robert to slide her panties over her hips and expose her pussy.

Robert lifted his head from Sylvia’s breast, her nipple slipping out of his mouth and lying erect and swollen, with bright scarlet marks of his teeth against the pale swell. He moved lower, until he could see the thatch of grey curls covering her pussy and the tender, swollen, lips. Slowly, he ran the tip of his finger along the slot, until he could stroke the hard pearl of her clit. Sylvia bit her lip to keep from moaning out loud as her whole body tingled. She could do nothing to stop her pussy becoming moist as Robert’s finger caressed her clit and slid inside her. She shook her head violently, trying to catch his eye and denying the effect his touch was having upon her.

Robert smiled as he felt her wetness and stood up, briefly, as he unfastened his jeans and pushed them, and his boxers, down to his ankles. Sylvia felt the shift in weight as he stood and she lifted her head, looking along her body. She saw Robert straightening, after pushing his pants down, and his cock, hard and thick, jutting out beneath his flat belly. She could see the swollen, purple head, nodding slightly as he moved and then she let her head fall back onto the cushions.

“Robert, please, don’t.” Sylvia whispered.

“Don’t you want it? You’re all wet down here.” Robert whispered back.

Sylvia blushed in shame at the truth of his response. She was hot and aroused, even though she did not want this. Sylvia was as wet inside as she had ever been but, she told herself, that was just her body betraying her. She felt the shift in weight again, as Robert leaned over her, taking his weight on one hand and grasping the base of his cock with the other.

She turned her head, so that he could not see her eyes, as he rubbed the swollen head of his cock along the lips of her pussy. His hips were between her thighs, holding them open, as he nestled the head of his cock at the entrance to her wet passage. Robert pushed forwards, stretching Sylvia’s pussy with his cock. She was drier than she needed to be for his cock to slide easily into her pussy, but Robert just pushed harder, forcing his way into her. Sylvia bit her lip, trying not to cry out at the burning sensation as he thrust deeper. Robert grunted, jabbing his cock at her pussy, forcing himself deeper into her. Sylvia tried to relax, to ease the pain as Robert violated her unwilling body, but she just felt her belly tighten as she tried to push his cock out of her pussy. Robert leaned further forward, crushing her beneath his weight and rammed his hips forward.

Sylvia thought she would faint as his cock drove into the depth of her tender pussy. She felt as though she was being ripped open and was sure that he had torn her delicate opening. Something prickled against the tip of her clit, and a flood of hot sticky liquid filled her pussy, as though she had begun to bleed onto his cock. For a moment the world went away and her body contorted into spasms, while Robert pinned her to the sofa with his thick cock.

When the spasms subsided, Robert began to slide his cock in and out of her pussy. Sylvia could feel the head of his cock thrusting deeper inside her, stretching her until the tip was pressed hard against the opening to her womb, and his tight sac was crushed against the backs of her thighs. Sylvia could feel warm, sticky fluids seeping out of her pussy and along the cleft between the cheeks of her ass. The burning in her pussy eased, as Robert’s cock slid more easily between the lips of her pussy. Her nipples had swollen until they stood upright from the taut flushed mounds of her breasts and ached to be touched.

“No, please don’t, Robert. Please stop. I don’t want this, please leave me alone.” Sylvia mouthed, silently.

Robert could not hear her pleas and, even if he had heard her, nothing would stop him now, until he had taken what he wanted. He thrust into her, pounding his cock deep into Sylvia’s aching pussy. Against her will, her pussy tightened, gripping his cock and sucking it deeper inside her. Robert’s eyes dimmed a little and he arched his back, ramming deeply into her and pinning her to the cushions. His cock jerked in her pussy, pumping thick strings of sperm inside her, filling her. Sylvia’s body jerked with every spurt as she felt the hot, stinging, cum splashing into her womb.

Robert groaned as he emptied his balls into Sylvia’s pussy and his cock softened slowly. Pulling back, he let his cock slip out of her pussy, leaving a slimy trail across the inside of her thigh. Standing up, he tugged his pants and boxers back over his cock and looked down at her, sprawled across the cushions with the marks of his teeth on her breasts and his hot spunk oozing out of her pussy onto the sofa.

Without a word, he turned and ran for the door, slamming it behind him, leaving Sylvia on the sofa.

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