Back in the mid 90's, a much finer era than our current one, says I, I was living on a five hundred acre ranch on the Big Sur coast. The folks that owned it were friends of mine that I met when my family moved to Carmel in the early eighties. I went to school with them. They were older than me but took me under their "wings" and drove me around to surf, hike and hang out. They would get me stoned. I was thirteen years old. On occasion they would take me down to their ranch and we'd stay in this big house built in the forties that sat on the edge of the coast and overlooked what seem to me to be infinity. At that point their grandparents owned it, they later inherited it. It was, and is, a magnificent place. Lord only knows, at this point, how much it must be worth.
I went to college in the Pacific Northwest, in Olympia, Washington. I had a previous stint going to university when I was eighteen at San Diego State University. All I did was party and surf there. Hard to call it school really. I took a break from college there after my second year and traveled. I decided to return and finish school after some traveling and work when I was twenty three. When I finished college in Olympia a chance came my way to move to the ranch. There was a renovated chicken coop available that was quite charming. When I saw it I immediately claimed it and started to get my shit together to move in.
My little cabin was quaint and rustic. It had a small kitchen, a bathroom, a wood stove and a magnificent view of the gorge on the Big Sur river. It was one of the most beautiful little spots I have lived in, and I've lived in some nice ones. I moved to Big Sur with my girlfriend Genevieve. I met her my first year in Olympia and it was troublesome from the start. It is a relationship I somewhat regret as I got lost in her and she was basically crazy. She was very attractive. She was about five foot eleven, with long blond hair. She had small perky breasts with long firm nipples. She had a beautiful body and face. Her lips were plump, her smile was radiant, she laughed a lot though it wasn't a sincerely happy laugh. Her eyes were blue green and had an innocence that belied dark secrets of her past.
I'm pretty convinced Genevieve's father had worked for the CIA. He was then living in Mexico City working for "AT&T." He always carried a pistol and lived in a gated community lined with machine gun nests. Genevieve's past was weird. She talked of aliens visiting her bedroom window when she was very young and of seeing ghosts in the graveyard across the road from her house. She felt as if those entities, both the aliens and ghosts, had been following her throughout her life. It always felt like something a bit evil was with her. I shrugged it all off as I was consumed by her.
When I met Genevieve she was a natural girl. She didn't shave her armpits or her pubic area. She had a very large bush of golden brown fur. I enjoyed that side of her. I had always craved natural women and she was one, though calling her a woman wasn't right, she really was still just a girl and I, truthfully, was still just a boy. Our relationship was tumultuous. The first time we were going to have sex my cock would not rise for her. It was embarrassing, it had never happened before, and the problem lasted a couple of frantic months.
She was very flirtatious with others and I really didn't feel comfortable to be away from her. In this day and age she might be diagnosed with multiple personality disorder. She could get violent and strange. I was strung out. I was addicted to her and it wasn't good for me. I look back on the brief case of impotence now as a way my body was trying to tell me, "NO! Don't do it! Stay away!" But, alas, I didn't listen and I did pay for it.
After the second school year was over we broke up for like three weeks. I left the northwest and traveled to Big Sur and that is when I was offered the cabin to live in. I was heartbroken about Genevieve and could not stop thinking about her. I called her and told her about the spot I had and said I wanted to get back together. She agreed and soon came. The relationship continued on as before. I was getting sick of her. It was never a lot of fun except for sex and even that wasn't fulfilling me. We fought a lot. She was very shallow and it was starting to weigh on me. We couldn't have deep conversations, just frivolous ones. I dreamed of being free but also felt obligated and weighed down, a deep weight on my soul. I could see the innocent girl in her and felt like if I left her she would be doomed. What a hero, eh? I can see so much more clearly now.
The fighting and chaos continued. I remember seeing a big rainbow over the Big Sur river valley one day and feeling totally deflated. Even the natural splendor of this magnificent Earth couldn't break my misery. Something had to change. There's a Bob Marley line that says, "If you get up and you quarrel every day, your saying prayers to the devil I say." At the time I had one tape stuck in my car stereo and it was a Bob Marley tape with that song on it. I realized it was time to let her go.
She had called her father to arrange for a trip if we were splitting up. He bought her a ticket to Bali, Indonesia and soon enough she was gone on a three month trip through Southeast Asia. I can only imagine what went on there. It was painful to be alone. Genevieve was in my dreams, I would wake thinking of her. I worried about her. I was pitiful. How would I get over her? Funny thing is that I wouldn't, at least not for another year. Here I was free, young, handsome, fit and in misery living in one of the most beautiful places on Earth.
As time went by I made the most of my days. I hung out alone. I surfed. I worked. I hiked a bit. I smoked reefer and drank a few beers here and there. Sometimes wine. One day while sitting on my porch a woman I had seen around before came by. When I'd see her in town she was fully clothed. Whenever I saw her on the ranch she was topless. I had admired her huge breasts from afar but had never seen them up close. I didn't think she had a boyfriend, but in reality who knows? Her name was Barbara. She saw me on the porch and walked my way, her large breasts swaying freely in the summer breeze. They were enormous. Barbara was definitely a hippy. She gardened a lot and that's what she was doing at the ranch.
As Barbara got within talking distance she asked me if I had a cigarette. At the time I was a light smoker. I'd have maybe one in the day and usually a couple after work with a beer or two. The combination was divine. I told her I did have one. I had a pack of American Spirit, the blue pack. I liked them for their heavier hits. I grabbed my pack and handed her one telling her to feel free to take a seat next to me. She sighed and told me how hot it was out. I could see beads of sweat running down her nipple and also out of her very hairy armpits and down her arms. She looked sexy as hell. She was a bit dirty from her gardening. I was kind of shocked and surprised as I never had gotten this close to her.
I lit her cigarette for her and she exhaled a large plume of smoke. She then said thank you with smoke still seeping from her mouth and nose as she talked. It turned me on. We began to chat about the day, the gardening, if the winter would be bringing good rains this year. As we talked and as she smoked and conversed I began to get very aroused. Her large breasts were just dangling there only a few inches from me. I could swear that her nipples had grown since she had first sat down. She luxuriated in her cigarette and began to slightly spread her legs. She had on a loose kind of hippy dress, almost see through. I could see that her legs were also quite hairy. I assumed she didn't shave anything. She raised her arms quite a few times during our conversation and I think she knew I liked it. This has happened before to me. She began to eye me more hungrily. I didn't have a shirt on either, just a pair of board shorts and they were beginning to rise.
She shook her head, she had long curly brown hair, and laughed wildly at one moment. I couldn't understand why. Had she seen my penis growing beneath my shorts? I had hoped so. Her lips were somewhat fat, she wasn't the prettiest woman in the world, but she was definitely pretty. She looked like some sort of Scottish peasant woman from the past. She had light freckles on her face. I started watching her lips more as she talked. Her mouth was pulling me in, turning me on, as it spattered little bits of smoke out when she spoke. "So erotic." I thought to myself. There was a certain tension building.
As her cigarette dwindled I became aware of the fact that if I didn't act soon this little moment, this brief chance encounter, could end with her just walking away. The thought of it was jarring. I wanted to kiss this woman, I wanted to suck her breasts and taste her juices. The thought of even licking her sweaty, furry asshole entered my mind and I decided then and there to break the tension.
"Barbara," I said, " I have something to tell you."
She looked at me quizzically and asked me what was wrong.
