It was one of those perfect late August afternoons. Barely a cloud in the blue of the sky and just the lightest of cool breezes brushing across the skin. Gary Roldern, retired policeman and keen gardener, had a lot of epidermis on show for the faint, cooling breeze to catch. It could not be said he was working very hard, it was not really the day for that and, frankly he was not finding many weeds in his flowerbeds to pull up. The caterpillars were being a nuisance on his brassicas but careful picking every morning was keeping the numbers down and there was nothing much needing doing to the brassicas or, indeed, anything else in the vegetable plot. He looked up at the sweet corn standing perhaps seven foot high in a square clump. Alas, the corn would soon be over, already he detected a certain mealiness coming. A seasonable vegetable he enjoyed.
So, there was not much for him to do in the garden. It was not the right time of the year to plant seeds... unless. Gary's eyes moved to the fence separating him from his neighbours, Zoe and Tom. Tom was not much of a gardener and, certainly, was not very good at planting seeds either in the ground or, in fact, in his wife, Zoe. Gary had had a bit of success a couple of years before when he had shown how it is done by planting in Zoe's fertile seed bed, but this year he seemed to be having a bit of a crop failure. Perhaps fresh seed was needed, perhaps the seed he had in his 'packets' was a bit past its prime.
Gary reached and examined his scrotum. Perhaps an odd thing to do but probably the sort of thing a man might do, in any case, if naked in his garden and alone. He jiggled his balls, his 'seed packets.' There was nothing wrong with them as far as he could see or feel. Perhaps a late sowing might reap the reward. Unlike real crop failure, it was actually rather good to have the opportunity to plant again and again, but he did hope Zoe would not give up and perhaps go to a different seed merchant. Gary smiled, perhaps Mr Sutton down the road, or Mr Unwin, or Mr Thompson and his friend, Mr Morgan. working together, or jolly old Mr Fothergill at his gate...
Settling his old straw hat over his eyes, Gary settled the more comfortably into his deck chair. And what man, settling naked in a similarly comfortable way and feeling the sun on his skin -- and especially the skin of his penis all warm -- would not find himself erecting probably accompanied by erotic thoughts. Thoughts, perhaps, of a neighbour or the young nineteen-year-old over the road, or other acquaintances and friends -- though in Gary's case they were not simply thoughts but memories. He had been a lucky old boy!
Of course, how awful to be disturbed like that, for someone unexpectedly to walk into the garden and see the man tumescent, if not someone who saw the man's penis in that state quite a lot -- his wife or girlfriend -- but imagine a neighbour...
"Are you thinking of me, Gary?"
It was indeed his immediate neighbour there in his garden, but fortunately someone who saw Gary's penis erect quite a lot and had appreciated its girth where it mattered on many occasions.
Gary pushed his hat up and smiled, "Afternoon Zoe, I was thinking of having a nap."
"Like that?" She reached down and touched him, a gentle but quite delicious caress along his short shaft. Fingertips running over the rumpled surface. It twitched against her.
"I bet you were going to have a wank. Probably going to walk up your garden like that to your shed. You men! Go on, go and make me a cup of tea. And we'll see what we can do -- later."
Her eyes didn't leave him as he got up and walked to the house. Getting up with his short, stubby but thick erection pointing. Gary smiled as he walked into the house. He might well have been going to have a wank, in the shed or out in the garden, but he was pretty sure now he would not be wanking himself. He could not now see Zoe not being 'kind' to him, but it might well prove to be more, perhaps a suck or even a fuck. It would be good to help her take her dress off, though perhaps she might be naked by the time he brought the tea things back. He frowned. It was too hot for chocolate biscuits -- they would melt in the sun -- what else had he in the cupboard?
He walked back down his garden, tea tray in hand.
"I'm sorry about those quickies," said Zoe looking up, "not really fair on you."
Gary made an 'it doesn't matter' expansive gesture. "Have we had success?"
A shaking of the head. Gary had really hoped his remarkable impregnation from the sky effort down upon Zoe from the footbridge might have been the one. Not that it had been terribly likely. But what a story, not so much the 'Man who fell to Earth' as the baby boy or girl who fell to Earth!
"We seem to have tried a lot, Zoe." He shrugged his shoulders, "Are we going to try some more?"
It was Zoe's turn to nod. "Please, Gary. I... I think I'm just going to have to give up on my idea you only do it after Tom, so I have both your semen in me. I'd prefer it, only, it gets so difficult what with Charlie and everything."
"Where is Charlie?"
"Tom's taken him for a walk in the pushchair." She smiled, "Gary Roldern, will you inseminate me please?"
It was not a request to refuse from a lady. Not when she accompanies it by slowly and deliberately lowering her head in the direction of your erect penis. Of course, Zoe had to go that much further than other women -- about three inches further -- before her lips closed over his generous 'plum.' There was nothing amiss about his 'fruit,' only its stalk was rather truncated.
Unexpectedly a voice from the next-door garden, "Zoe, where are you?" Her dark hair lifted upwards and Gary's thick cockhead came out of her mouth.