Ever notice how life can slowly take over until you’re in that place where all you do is exist? This story is about an older widow who needs a jump start in life and finds it in a naïve but kind 19 year old who desperately wants to know about the physical side of love. At 63 she sees herself as average, but to him she’s something way beyond average. Both think it’s for no longer than a summer and make the most of the weeks they have.
* * * * *
I’d been at Oak Grove Estates for a little over eleven months and still hadn’t met many of my neighbors, probably because most of them were snowbirds and not very sociable. I seemed to gravitate toward those living in the park year-round. I didn’t think I would like living in Northern Mississippi, but as I got used to the southern drawl and humidity it had begun to grow on me. I laughed at the name of the retirement community, one of those 55 and over places, I hadn’t seen an oak yet, much less a grove. Southern pine and Poplar galore, but so far, no oak.
I had what is known as a park model mobile home on a decent enough sized lot to have a small, raised bed garden plot. I loved having fresh vegetables more than just June through September, which is what it was in northern Michigan where I’d moved from. That is, if there wasn’t a late frost to kill off the seedlings. Harry, my hubby of 41 years checked out when he was only 66, making me a widow at the tender age of 61. Here I was a year later having uprooted my life and moved over 1500 miles away.
There wasn’t anything to keep me in northern Michigan, our three kids had gone to other parts of the world…. literally. A daughter married to a guy from Taiwan and was living there with their twin sons, the second daughter working with the American Embassy in Sweden, and “the boy’ as we called him was in the military stationed on Okinawa. Harry and I started having kids three minutes after we’d said “I do”, or at least it felt that way. I swear the man had no sooner hung his pants on the bedpost and I was pregnant. Having kids so young and in such proximity created problems at the time but yielded the rewards of being not much more than middle aged when they had all graduated high school.
I found myself lonely after Harry died, not enough to go looking for a partner, however I did fall into bed once with Anders Heikenen, the 40 year old Finnish guy who owned the Christmas tree farm at the end of our road. I think it caught him as much off guard as it did me, with him being more than twenty years my junior it was awkward from the get-go. I was embarrassed having him see my wrinkled and stretch marked old body and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with an older woman.
We’d both had a beer too many, by the time we got down to business the effects of that extra beer had worn off and there was no simple way out at that point. We fumbled and bumbled in the dark, to his credit he took his time making sure my motor was not only running but sufficiently warmed up. He kissed me like a lover would, he played with and kissed my breasts commenting they were firm and full. Thank you, I can live with that. He then made a big deal of talking lovingly about my greying sparse bush as he lowered his face to my now wanting nether region.
The first swipe of his tongue made my hips jump and I heard somebody who sounded an awful lot like me groan. I noticed that same person had their hands woven into his curly locks holding him tight to my now quivering pussy. A loving tongue bath of my folds was not new to me, Harry washed his face in my muff almost as much as he washed it in the sink, but it had been some time since that had occurred. I reveled in the first orgasm, my old body shaking and out of breath, I hadn’t been that out of breath since I’d last shoveled the driveway. As I collected myself Anders crawled up my body and was about to shove his dick into me when I stopped him.
“Nightstand, on the right, little bottle of KY, put a dab on you in case I’m not as wet as I think I am. Your tongue was great, but I want your cock to be just as fulfilling.”
Fifteen minutes later I could feel him shooting me full of young potent semen, thanking God I could no longer get pregnant, because as much as he came I was sure at least one sperm would have found its way through my cervix. I always loved that feeling when Harry and I made love, his cock swelling and then “bammo”, I was full and overflowing with thick warm seed. Semen that would find its way around his cock and then dribble down my ass crack to the sheets or drip off my clit if we were doing doggy. Anders’s climax had triggered my second orgasm which was why I was so out of breath. Pushing up on his chest I was able to take a deep breath and move him off, as he lay next to me I got up and washed away the mess between my legs, tossing a warm washcloth onto his belly when I walked back to the bed. I was in my nightie when he asked if we might do that again soon.
Turning on the bedside lamp I looked him dead in the eye, “Nope, casino siteleri that was a onetime thing that probably shouldn’t have happened. You made me feel good inside, but I also feel guilty as hell knowing I only buried Harry ten months ago. I’ll make a deal with you Anders, you say nothing of this to anyone and I won’t tell your finance of two years that you fucked a 62-year-old widow.”
He nodded, put his boots on and left in the darkness of night. Since that time nothing had been between my legs other than me washing. There were a number of older single guys in the park, none of them tripped my trigger in the least. I’d been asked to accompany two of them to the monthly potluck at the meeting hall, I declined, wondering what they thought I would want with not one, but two limp dicks. Spring was upon us, well, spring in Mississippi, it was still cold back home. I had called a local gardening place for a half dozen bags of topsoil for my raised garden, it was to be delivered that afternoon.
I had been working in the flowerbeds since just after lunch and was tired enough that I sat on the ground under a large tree, (no, not an oak) trying to cool off as a pickup stopped in front of my lot. I watched a younger man of 19 or 20 with a short beard and longish blonde wavy hair step out of the truck. Walking to me it was obvious he’d done something in regard to physical labor all his young life, his physique, was solid. He stopped four or five feet from me and smiled.
“Are you Mrs. Teague?” He asked.
I was maneuvering to stand when he extended a hand for me to grasp, once upright I brushed the non-existent debris off the back of my shorts as women are want to do and spoke.
“Yes I am, first name is Violet, most people call me Vi, and what’s your name?”
“Devon. Not a common name in these parts, my dad was from England so I have his dad’s name. He’s not with us any longer, died a long time ago, my grandpa I mean. My old man ran off with some chippy about ten years ago, mom died when I was sixteen. I live with my sister now. She’s divorced and is a nurse at the hospital. Sorry, my mom always said I talk too much, where would you like the topsoil?”
I was impressed by his soft demeanor, he wasn’t brash, or presumptuous the way so many younger men are, and I had to admit that he carried himself more as a man than an older boy. I never could understand why so many younger guys found it necessary to be so full of themselves, as though they were God’s gift to humanity. I’d taught far too many of those snotty little shits before I retired as a high school history teacher. When he had the bags of topsoil on the ground next to the beds, I signed the delivery ticket and stood looking down at the bags.
“Is there anything else I can do for you Mrs. Teague?”
“You can stop calling me Mrs. Teague and call me Vi for starters. I’m just wondering which one of the old goats in the park I can get to lift these and dump them into the beds. None of them are spring chickens anymore, shoot, neither am I for that matter.”
He looked at the truck, then at me, “I’ve got a few more deliveries to make but I can stop by after work if you want. I don’t need money or anything like that, I just want to help.”
“What about your sister, isn’t she going to be worried?”
“Naw, she’s working swing shift, I’ll text her and let her know I won’t be home for supper. I’ll just grab something in town when I leave here.”
Ah, an opportunity to cook for more than just one, “How about I make supper as payment, it would be nice to have someone to talk with. I made cookies this morning, do you like cookies?”
“Do I like cookies? Cookies are my downfall. Thank you, I’ll take you up on that offer. See you about five thirty.”
I waved as he drove away and got busy figuring out what to do for supper, knowing everything was frozen I zipped into town and bought a nice sized chuck roast, he had looked like he could eat a lot. By the time he’d come back the meal would be ready as soon as he was. When he pulled up I noticed he was still driving the garden center truck and commented.
“Being able to take the truck home at night is a nice perk. Not everyone gets that, you must have a good employer.”
He grinned, “I work for my uncle, he owns the garden center. I’ve worked for him every summer since I was 14, once I got my license he started me on deliveries. I’m 19 now and get to take the truck home as part of my pay, it’s a nice perk, keeps me from having to buy a car.”
For as tough, solid and country boy as he looked he was well spoken and articulate in his speech, although the colloquialisms of the local area still came to the surface from time to time. He washed up and sat for supper with me, I liked the fact that he asked if I prayed before I ate, I didn’t, but I appreciated his asking. After two large helpings he sat back and grinned.
“Miss Vivian. Mind if I use yer first name?” I smiled as I nodded, there was that Mississippi lingo. güvenilir casino “That was a mighty good meal, I wouldn’t have gotten anything that good at a fast food place, or a diner. I’m not sure if I have room for more than three or four cookies, hope that doesn’t hurt yer feelings.”
“I’ll go one better Elliot, why don’t I just send some with you along with leftovers, I’ll never be able to eat all of that. I’ll throw in a few extra cookies for your sister. Will that work?”
“Yes-mm, that’ll work fine. Barbie Jo will love them, she likes cookies and that sort of stuff, she just doesn’t have time to bake.”
I smiled to myself noticing that his vocabulary seemed more relaxed as we got to know one another. He emptied the bags and then evened out the soil after we ate. We chatted under the awning of the mini-patio outside my kitchen door until about eight. He talked about how he had played football and baseball but was never a standout in either sport, just another player. He found more pleasure in shop classes than he did in all others and that he had graduated with a 3.8 GPA. The salutatorian of his class and voted most likely to succeed. Having been a former high school teacher myself, he piqued my interest, I wondered why he wasn’t going on to college.
“What made you choose a tech school over college education Devon?”
“Cuz I like working with my hands and as far as I’m concerned you don’t have to go to college to be smart or successful.”
The kid was smart and knew what he wanted, “I can’t argue with that explanation, and you’re right. College is not for everyone. The world is full of educated idiots.”
“Miss Vivian, I should probly head home. I need to shower and hit the rack, I have deliveries starting at seven and I don’t wanna be tired. I sure did enjoy the meal and it was good getting to know you. Sis will be happy with the leftovers. G-night.”
Watching him drive away I found myself liking this young bundle of energy, I saw no reason why we couldn’t become closer friends if the opportunity arose. Two days later I was finishing up the garden, the green beans and two pepper plants were all that remained to be planted. I noticed Devon’s truck go by slowly, he gave a short toot on the horn and waved as he went further along to the Jenkins place, unloading what looked like a dozen bags of mulch. On the way out of the park he stopped in front of my lot and walked to me.
“Hi Miss Vivian. Good to see you, looks like you’re staying busy.”
I brushed the dirt from my hands, “I am Devon, how can I help you today?”
“Oh, no ma’am, not looking for help from you. Was wondering if you need anything else done around your place? I could mow what lawn you have and maybe wash the windows for you, stuff like that. Sissy said to thank you for the leftovers and cookies, she liked having food ready when she got home.”
I smiled, “Did your sister tell you to offer your help, or was it your idea?”
“Nope, all my idea. Our house isn’t very big so there isn’t much to do and I get bored. Can’t sit for very long. Whadda you think Miss Viv, got anything I can help with?”
I pondered it a moment, “Sure. When would you have time?”
“Oh, that’s an easy one, my quitting time is five and I’m done by then most days, I only do deliveries until noon on Saturday, another guy finishes the day. I could stop in the evenings or on weekends if that will work.”
Being curious I needed a bit more information, “Are you afraid of heights, do you think you could clean out the gutters? They’re full of debris from the winter. And… I do have windows to wash. What kind of money are we talking? I don’t intend to let you do things for nothing, but I’m not rich either.”
He shuffled his feet through the grass a little and asked almost apologetically, “Would asking you to cook and let me have a meal with you be too much? I like board games and puzzles, maybe we could do that sometimes.”
I was liking this young man more and more, I found myself thinking, “his sister must be something else because she sure did a good job training him”. Guys do okay on their own for the most part, but they need a woman in their life to help smooth the rough edges. I also took notice of the fact that his stomach was flat, his arms were solid, his hat was on the right way, his pants were pulled up and he didn’t have a mouth full of chew. On top of that he was polite, considerate, he had manners and was willing to help me.
“Having someone to share food and time with sounds good to me, with one stipulation.” He looked at me bewildered. “You have to take cookies home for your sister if I make some. Think you can live with that?”
His soft smile looked bright in contrast with his weather tanned skin. “You got a deal Miss Viv. When should I start?”
“Saturday, come mid-morning. Do you drink coffee?” He nodded. “Okay we can have a cup when you get here.”
He was shuffling his feet again, “Mmmm, can it be after lunch? I work until noon.”
“Absolutely. canlı casino I’ll make lunch for us, don’t eat before you get here. I planned to make some chili tomorrow, will chili and grilled cheese sandwiches be alright?”
He gave me a thumbs up and mouthed “perfect”.
It was a bit after eleven Saturday when I heard noises outside. I’d just gotten out of the shower after having worked in my garden all morning. I quickly slipped on a light cotton robe over my naked body wondering if I should even be going outside, curiosity got the better of me. Pulling the robe tight around my body I stepped out onto the small deck. There was Devon on a ladder cleaning the rain gutters.
“Devon? What the dickens? I thought you were coming around noon for lunch.”
He chuckled, “Yeah, that. I know I said noon but there were no deliveries after ten so Uncle said I could go.”
I laughed softly, “You’re as bad as my late husband Harry, he never could sit still. Better than being a lounge lizard he would say.”
He stopped and looked me over, not leered, he looked. I wasn’t sure if I should be upset or flattered, then he spoke. “Yup, I knew it.”
“You knew what pray tell?”
“That even though yer older n me, you’re a handsome woman. I’m not tryin to be a smart ass, it’s just that you’re a pretty lady.”
Looking down I realized I had the robe wrapped around me so tight that it didn’t hide a curve or bulge whatsoever. And why were my stiff nipples on display pushing against the robe? I didn’t remember my cotton robe being that thin.
“You mind your manners young man. I’m going inside to dress and get lunch started. I made monkey bread for dessert. You’re going to help me eat that aren’t you?”?”
“You just try and stop me Miss Viv. Yell out when it’s time to come in for lunch.”
Walking back inside I was not only smiling I was blushing like a thirteen-year-old after her first kiss. This lad was winding me up in ways I hadn’t been wound for years. Making sure all the curtains were closed tight I adjourned to my bedroom and dropped the robe, feeling brave I stood looking in the full-length mirror. My breasts sagged some, but then so do most other 63-year-old breasts, the nipples still pointed outward instead of down and there was some firmness to them. Cupping both I gently rolled the nipples which caused me to shudder.
Gazing down, my grey bush was the center of focus, I never had a lot of hair to begin with. Harry liked it, he said it was a nice face full, whatever that was supposed to mean, I just knew he liked dining at the Y as often as I would let him. He almost had me talked into letting him eat me at a restaurant several years before he became sick, he was convinced he could get underneath the table without anyone noticing. I wiggled and squirmed until my panties were draped around my ankles, his hand was on the inside of my thigh pushing my dress up as he began to maneuver under the table.
It was at that moment I chickened out and thank God I did. No more than five minutes later our next-door neighbors walked in, seeing us alone they plopped themselves at our booth. He had just reached down for my panties and put them in my hand when the Reese’s walked over to us. I would have been mortified had they caught us with his face in my muff. Turning sideways to the mirror I playfully slapped my ass watching it wiggle. I no longer possessed the tight ass Harry loved to pound against from behind, but it wasn’t sagging or drooping either, I held both cheeks and squeezed lightly. Overall I was pleased with my body, yes, it was older, but it hadn’t been completely ignored. At 141 pounds and relatively firm in most places I still considered myself attractive in a mature sort of way.
I donned simple white panties and a bra to match, I wasn’t trying to impress anyone so why bring out the big guns? The slinky transparent slutty lingerie, Harry would groan and salivate when I paraded around in those kinds of undies. Made me wonder if Devon had ever seen a woman, or girl, in something like sexy lingerie. I scolded myself as I thought how lovely it would be to have a young virile stud like Devon lying in my love saddle rocking back and forth. What it would be like to feel him shoot inside and take me over the edge. I chastised myself as I pondered, maybe I’d find out in the weeks ahead, maybe not. I quickly slipped on pair of loose-fitting shorts and a tank top that wasn’t too tight but did offer a glimpse of cleavage. Some ankle socks and sneaks were all that remained.
The chili was warmed, the sandwiches nearly finished and ready for the table. I stepped out onto the deck just as Devon was descending the ladder, I smiled and waved him inside.
“Smells mighty good Miss Vivian. Glad I got here when I did, lunch smells delicious and I’m hungry in my dungarees as my grandpa would say. That monkey bread looks delicious. That and a glass of milk will hit the spot. I’m ready to eat when you are.”
I smiled as I set the grilled cheese in front of him, “Then let’s do it, I’m starved.”
As the afternoon progressed he became more and more sweaty. I was keeping him hydrated with ice water and the occasional glass of lemonade. Around three he asked if I minded him taking his shirt off.