Fiona Hello Gail

Thanks again to my patient editor Kenji Sato.

(Fiona's story)

Returning to the farmhouse, I took stock of what I had experienced on the farm. A deep infatuation with an older woman who would NEVER be my lover; an initial supernatural experience (what else could you call it) involving an ancient incestuous relationship, and finally the 'time travel' into the sexual history of Lucinda's husband, Darryl.

The 'ghosts' visiting me were a part of the old family lore... seeing Darryl lose his cherry; was that another level of... this damn vision? Has Meg been training me in some fashion? I did intuitively diagnose some of Darryl's health issues; but how am I getting these visions? Maybe they are place related. Nothing interesting happened in the woods of Vermont.

Meg said I needed patience; maybe the meaning of these 'visions' will come to me in time. Although, that last one was damn entertaining. I just think it is mighty odd that a lesbian like me, would blank out on the young lady like Agnes, and focus on Darryl's body.

The rest of the day was blessedly uneventful. I had had my fill of erotic stimulation, thank you very much; so I played games on my phone (oh yes... that is a story unto itself) and sipped some tea that I brewed for myself in the farmhouse kitchen.

Both Darryl and Lucinda were very tired when we met again at supper time. Lucinda brought home take out food from a restaurant in Northampton. Normally, she would have cooked; but her meeting on campus took longer than she expected, and she had no time to prepare anything.

The news of my departure the next day was greeted with some protestations by Lucinda, as Darryl remained silent; but, I sensed it was 'pro forma' and she was just as happy to see me leave. Lucinda was not the most empathetic of humans; but certainly, she sensed that something was amiss in our forming any sort of connection. The rest of the dinner was filled with news of the library staff changes and some new systems; which seemed to an outsider, to be pointless changes. Darryl made some mention of various cows that were having some small health issues that were affecting their milk production and that they needed rest and a different diet.

Afterward, Lucinda cleaned up, and Darryl did what dishes there were; mostly composting the paper plates and whatever food waste we left. He then excused himself to take his shower. Lucinda disappeared into their bedroom to read a chapter or two of a novel she was interested in. She had mentioned earlier that she liked Larry McMurtry, but I wasn't sure that was what she was reading now.

In negotiating for bathroom time, I discovered that Lucinda's long soaks were not an everyday thing; often, she made do with a quick wash from her bedroom sink. Thus informed, I planned on showering after Darryl had finished his shower, and the hot water heater had caught up with the demand. I passed by Darryl's and Lucinda's bedroom on the way to my shower, and overheard some cheerful husband and wife banter.

Ever the voyeur, I paused to see if the banter would lead to any cunt-wetting excitement, but the lights in their room were soon extinguished, and after some muted 'good nights', all was silent. If they were fooling around... they were very quiet. With a slightly disappointed sigh, I quietly padded off to my shower. Finally acknowledging winter and the nature of the farmhouse, I had borrowed a warm robe from Lucinda so I could negotiate the trip from my first floor room in some comfort and modesty.

I guess I followed Darryl too closely, or the hot water heater was not up to the challenge of back to back showers because MY shower was hurried due to the lukewarm to cold nature of the water. Brrrr. The snug robe was even more appreciated on the way back to my room.

Despite the cold shower, or perhaps because of it, I promptly fell asleep as soon as I pulled the Hudson's Bay blanket up over the sheets. Again, I was sleeping in one of Bill's cozy old t-shirts. It was a deep and dreamless sleep with no middle of the night visitors,

The next morning I was up late. Lucinda and Darryl had finished their breakfast and were about the farm doing chores. I scrambled some eggs for breakfast and that, along with toast and strong coffee, was to be fuel for getting my stuff together to greet Joe who was scheduled to pick me up at 9:00am.

Lucinda came into the farmhouse around 8:30am to change for her office job. She popped into my room to say goodbye and offer me one of the least intimate, and sincere, goodbye hugs I have ever received. A simple handshake would have served better and not disturbed me so much.

Despite everything, she still had the power to inflame my imagination, so much so I had to close my eyes and look away after the hug. This Lucinda took as a 'I am so sorry to leave you' look.

"Fi..." she presumed to call me, which both infuriated me and caused me to melt... "you will be fine with Gail; she is the best hostess I know, and she will take care of you." And then sotto voce even though there was no one around to overhear, "You will be good for her... she has been so lonely since Wolf died, and her kids are too far away to visit often."

Thankfully, Joe had arrived early, sparing me from further discomfort and embarrassment.

Lucinda noted Joe's arrival with a mix of disapproval and relief. I am sure she was perplexed, wondering just what the hell was going on, with this skinny girl young enough to be Joe's granddaughter, foisted off on random caretakers. She would not have guessed that this was part of my revenge trap; my training for my eventual defeat of Meg and her allies that had conspired my downfall...

As Kahn says, "Revenge is a dish best served cold." My corollary to that is... "And you will NEVER see it coming."

But, patience is the essence of this plan. Of course, that is the crazy thing... there is no plan, just a path. All we have is the way, the way we live. I am living in a way foreign to me, totally dependent on others; but not controlled by them. They support me in love. My job offered me independence; but, restricted me, thus... contradiction. So dependence equals freedom; independence equals containment. I am the stream flowing to the sea, following the path of least resistance; but turning into a mighty river, as tributaries that flow into me... the people I meet, the visions I experience... will make me the person who can defeat my enemies.

But, I must admit, my meeting with Gail caused me to question this next bend in the river...

Joe's introduction at Gail's house was more than slightly awkward. Gail made a show of being the welcoming hostess, but her interaction with Joe made me wonder if there is a history between these two.

Joe made some joke to relieve the tension, only to be rewarded by the most blatant of smirks from Gail. Whew, if Joe can't charm this woman, what chance do I have? Once Joe left, Gail seemed to relax a little. She was less of the mothering type than Lucinda; not to say she was not an excellent mother to her own kids, she just did not feel the need to mother the rest of the planet.

She was much more matter of fact and less implicitly judgmental, and beneath it all... a deep sadness. I could sense some physical ailment, but as I am yet to be the intuitive natural diagnostician Meg is, I could not put my finger on it.

Let me describe Gail for you. At five foot one, in her seventies, and with short, snow white hair, she had the look of an active woman carrying a lot more weight than one in her forties. A gardener's tan, no glasses, and were those implants I detected? She wore a short, plain blue dress with a white sweater, low heeled shoes, a little jewelry, and minimal makeup with just a hint of scented vanilla?

Gail had large breasts, could that be where the illness resided, and a thick waist. Her ass was not as prominent as Lucinda's, but that might be because her girth was larger. Well-muscled legs from housework and gardening, and the same was true of her arms and short fingered, powerful hands.

The house gave off strong vibes... was it ghosts? of sexual frustration, mourning, lust, homosexuality, and... heavenly baking aromas. Gail loved to bake, and eagerly shared what she had baked. Today's project was cinnamon nut bread, made with walnuts, I think; I would soon find out for sure because Gail was offering me some as soon as it cooled.

"I just took it out of the oven, so wait a bit before trying some. It goes well with coffee or tea. First, let's get you settled in... you have your choice of my daughter, Erica's old room or, my son, Kurt's?"

I thought for a second before deciding on the daughter's room. Female vibes... superstitions... gender loyalty?

"It doesn't matter to me and practically speaking, there is not much difference between them, although, Kurt's room is a tad bigger, but Erica's gets the morning sun, and the bigger bed is in Kurt's room."

"You can change later if you like; how long are you here for? Joe was rather vague; but, I gather you plan to be moving on after a few days."

"Well, that was the plan..." I answered, "but 'plan' should be in quotes; I just like getting a feel for the area, and the people."

"Are you writing a book? You sound like someone researching something."

"I didn't have anything like that in mind, I do keep a journal; but, that is strictly for myself, nothing for publication. Just furthering my personal development, as they say; I needed a break from the corporate world." Well, one that was forced on me, and I am making the best of it, Fiona thought to herself.

After more minutes of friendly conversation, and only the slightest of prying on Gail's part, the bread had cooled enough for a taste. Gail had her slice with creamery butter, washed down with Red Rose tea. I had mine with a bit of honey spread, and a so-so cup of coffee; but the bread... was heavenly!

Gail cleaned up after our snack and announced that she needed to go out. "I have gotten in the habit of having very little food in the house, just enough for a few days for myself; that way, I have an excuse to get out and see people. With a guest in the house, now I have an even better excuse."

Gail was going to be gone for about an hour. I was curious to see what, if any, visions this place would reveal to me. The daughter's room offered nothing immediately; but it had been vacant the longest. There were some pretty heavy male vibes in Kurt's room; but, my mind was not open to them... yet.

As I proceeded down the hall to Gail's bedroom, I had to pass the one bathroom, where I stopped for a quick pee; noting the potpourri in a small basket on the shelf over the loo.

The home, though dated, kinda stuck in the 1980s, was pristine. Gail must vacuum and dust nearly every day. Therefore, upon leaving the bathroom, I was surprised to see a trail of clothing leading down the hall.

First, a very large men's shirt; then, a pair of black lace panties, which I perversely picked up and inspected, and found them to be VERY damp! What the fuck! This is not happening NOW, my brain warned me. I was following the trail of a mutual seduction... in progress. A pair of dark heavy jeans; then some men's briefs, dark blue, but the damp spot in the crotch was still very evident; and a sweater of the kind Gail seemed to favor. The door to the room was open, and I could see Gail removing her dress, pulling it over her head; her eyes seductively locked with a man who... greatly resembled Joe!

Yet, not Joe. Slightly shorter, just a bit under six feet tall, with a shaved head, and small light colored beard. A bull-like neck, heavy arms and chest, and an enormous but firm belly rounded out his form. His eyes locked with Gail's, as the dress was fully removed, and she provocatively tossed it. Seeing her nearly naked, as she had not yet removed her bra, his impressive, flaccid cock began its inevitable rise to full erection..

As a lesbian connoisseur of male appendages, this was the nearest I had seen so far to a bull dick; long, thick, and heavily veined with huge testicles

Catching Gail's dress in one hand, he rocked back on thick powerful looking legs.

He was grinning broadly, and from the state of their underwear, I guessed that they had been teasing each other for some time. Now, it was time to 'go all the way' as they might have termed 'it' in their earlier years.

But these were two septuagenarians... I guessed that Joe's brother was a little younger than Gail as I knew Gail was older than Joe and that Joe was older than... yes, Joe did mention his name... Tom!

I swear Gail purred, "You know my rules. I don't suck cock; my boobs are off limits; and the bra is not coming off."

"Fine with me," Tom replied. "Do you have anything against me going down on you?"

"Oh, please do." Again, that soft barely audible lust laden purr.

Tom embraced her, giving her mouth a brief, but intensely passionate kiss. He then slowly lowered Gail to the bed on top of the covers. Ah, this must have occurred earlier this year. He knelt on the bed and proceeded to kiss her from her neck to her toes, following Gail's rules and making a wide detour of her ample bosoms.

And he took his time; each area was lovingly caressed, teased, kissed, and licked. He took great interest in Gail's armpits; sniffing, then deeply inhaling her scent. His hands caressed her large, but firm belly; and he licked her navel, kissed and teased all around her sex. Spreading her legs and making light hand strokes on her inner thighs, caused Gail's soft, kitten-like purring to transform into a deeper tiger-like growl. Her body reacted by twisting on the bed, her hands grasping the posts of the headboard.

Tom playfully continued to her feet, where he began to tickle--only to be halted by a commanding, "Stop that!"

"Well excuse me, Miss Gail. This female is new to me, I must find out what she likes... outside of her rules."

At that, Gail giggled... an incongruously girlish giggle from a seventy-something grandmother.

Thwarted at Gail's sole, Tom advanced his ministrations up her inner thighs. As he approached her gloriously thick-bushed mons veneris, Gail threw her head back, but made no sound. She clutched the headboard posts more tightly. Tom parted her thick, aroused labia, and sucked gently on each side. Gail's pussy was already wetting the top sheet of the bed. Tom's cock head, wet from a copious flow of pre-cum, added a male element to the staining of the bedsheets.

I was overwhelmed by the sight of Gail's cunt. Tom would step back to admire the view, to catch his breath, as he stroked himself. I was struck by the fact, that in all of this excitement, Gail had not touched herself; but, in her case, it was not necessary, as Tom had more than adequately prepared her--she was very wet. He was clearly very excited. Next step, penetration... FUCKING.

But I was wrong. Tom, apparently, had great patience; and savored each moment. He enjoyed the vision of Gail's body; he enjoyed how much she trembled under his touch; and in a moment, I could tell how much he enjoyed the taste of her cunt. A lot of my view of the next twenty minutes or so, was obscured by Tom's bulk, his head buried in Gail's pussy; she was truly being eaten out. When he would come up for air, his face glistened with Gail's cunt juices. It was hard to tell from how Gail twisted and bucked on the bed; but, she must have been on the receiving end of several orally induced orgasms. I got to know her O face very well; she gritted her teeth, scrunched her eyes shut, tightly curled her toes, and exhaled powerfully through her nostrils.

"God... damn... Oooh fuuuck... OH MY GOD!" Over and over, these and other fouler expletives came from Gail's mouth. No soft purring... just filthy sex.

Tom's patient, loving, lusty oral ministrations to Gail's cunt came to the ultimate conclusion. He needed to have his dick in that hot, wet pussy. He got off the bed and stood on the floor, pulling Gail towards him. Lifting her legs onto his shoulders, he entered her. His first thrust was deep, forceful; but, Gail was so wet, so open, she only made a small yelping noise; a bit surprised, perhaps, at how easily Tom's thickly girthed cock slipped into her well used cunt. His next thrusts were slow and methodical, but Gail went about sabotaging any effort on his part of making the pleasure last. She rose from the bed with his dick deep inside her, wrapped her arms around his neck, and ground her mons hard against him.

Taking all her weight, Tom attempted to walk around the room with her impaled on his phallus; but they were both wracked with massive simultaneous orgasms, that had them toppling over... blessedly onto the bed. His dick slipped out as they landed, covering Gail's torso in his jizz; his body almost equally wetted from where she had rubbed against him.

At precisely the same moment, I experienced my own mind-blowing orgasm. It was so weird; I was so wrapped up in watching the scene with Tom and Gail that I was unaware of my own impending climax. I fell to my knees almost blacking out, only to be brought back by the sound of a car door slamming in the driveway... Gail had returned!

(Next: Fiona: Vision sex at Gail's)