This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities between any character in this story and any real person are coincidental and unintended.
This is the second story in a series. You should read the initial chapter of The Second Generation because this chapter story picks up where the prior one ended. Comments on this story, both favorable and unfavorable, are always welcome. Thank you for reading this. I hope you enjoy it.
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I don't claim to be a stud. Prior to Yvonne, I'd had sex with three girlfriends. My experience was that the first time with someone is a bit awkward as the two of you learn what each other likes and dislikes.
The first time with Yvonne was exactly the opposite. There was no awkwardness. We came together as though we'd been machined to fit each other. We intuitively knew what pleased each other the most. Our hearts seemed to beat in synch. I wasn't even conscious of my dick moving inside of her. Rather, I just experienced ever more intense pleasure.
Yvonne and I weren't two people having sex. We were two components of a single being. That being had a single orgasm which exploded in both component parts at the same instant. It was the most extraordinary and pleasurable experience of my life to that point.
I didn't realize that I had lost all perception until Yvonne's gorgeous face came back into my vision. I again felt her body beneath me and her vagina surrounding me. I heard the birds again.
Yvonne's eyes were gleaming. Her face, now sweaty, looked more beautiful than I can describe. She kissed me and said, "That was life."
I pulled out, stood up, and helped Yvonne to her feet. I brushed some grass off her back. She took my hand and said, "Let's walk."
About 40 yards from the north side of the house, a hill rose above my plateau. The hill was covered with deciduous and evergreen trees. Emile's, now my, property stopped a short way inside the woods. I wasn't sure who owned the rest of the woods. In the month or so I'd been living there, I hadn't met any neighbors.
Yvonne led me into the woods, and we started walking up the hill. I'd never walked in the woods naked before. It felt great! In fact, it would have felt inappropriate if Yvonne or I had been wearing anything.
We'd been walking about twenty minutes, ascending a gentle slope above my property. I saw movement in the corner of my eye. Looking left, I saw a person walking towards us at a right angle to our direction. My impulse was to hide somewhere, but Yvonne just tightened her grip on my hand and kept walking.
As we closed with the other person, I could see that it was a woman. She was in shorts, a tee shirt, and hiking boots. I guessed she was in her late 50s. Her skin was tanned and wrinkled. Her arms and legs had visible muscle, but she also had a large belly. When she was about twenty feet away, Yvonne waved and said "Hello!"
The woman had obviously seen us and, I think, had hoped to just ignore us. Yvonne calling out denied her that option. Frowning, the woman said, "Who are you?" She had a surprisingly low voice.
"I'm Harry Stone," I answered. "I inherited Emile Stone's place at the base of the hill. Emile was my uncle. This is my, uh, partner Yvonne Charet."
"Why aren't you wearing any clothes?" the woman asked gruffly.
Yvonne stepped forward. I was happy to let her handle the nudity issue. "It's such a beautiful day that we made love on the grass behind Harry's house," Yvonne said. "After we were done, we felt like a walk and didn't want to waste time dressing. Besides, it feels so natural to be naked in the woods."
Yvonne had disclosed more detail than I would have, but she did it in such a disarming way that the woman's frown lessened, a little. "When did you move into Emile's?" she asked.
"I came here to live in May," I said.
"I moved in yesterday," Yvonne replied.
"Where'd you come from?" the woman asked.
"Cincinnati," I answered.
"Washington, D.C.," Yvonne said.
"You're from Cincinnati, you're from Washington, and you're a couple?" the woman asked.
"For life," Yvonne replied.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"Rose MacDowell," the woman answered. "I live on the other side of the hill. In fact, you're probably on my property now."
"I'm sorry if we're trespassing," I said quickly. "We'll leave."
The woman thought for a moment. "No," she said, "no need to do that. Don't suppose you're hurting anything." She paused, then melted a fraction. "I'm sorry about your uncle," she said. "He was a good man. A bit strange, but a good man."
"You knew Emile?" I asked. "I didn't see him much the last years of his life."
"Well," Rose said, "it was tough to see him. He was always running off to Europe or somewhere. Yeah, I knew Emile. He paid my daughter to take care of his grapes."
Eureka! I'd found, I hoped, someone to revive the vineyard. "You know about vineyards?" I asked.
"Worked a bunch of years in Napa and Sonoma," Rose said, "then for some folks making ice wine in West Virginia. My husband Fred owned this property, got it from his mommy and daddy. We's going to grow our own grapes but Fred died. "Cassie, that's my daughter, went to that program Kent State's got. What do they call it? Viniculture? Anyway, she's been taught about grape growing and winemaking. She's back home now. She's trying to find a job. They's more and more folks making wine in these parts. She'll come up with something."
"If you've got time," I said, "I'd appreciate it if you could stop by the house sometime. I'd like to talk to you about what I need to do to keep Emile's vineyard going."
"I suppose you don't wear any clothes at your house either, do you?" Rose said.