Bagging Lauren

Preface

Sharing my May-December escapades has been very enjoyable. I had many successes but not every attempt turned out well. After an amazing success with one of my teachers and then with a cousin who was twice my age, I hit a dead end with a former best friend's aunt. In fact, "hit" is the operative word.

My best friend from elementary school and I drifted apart in junior high when he chose new friends who were getting high and doing things in which I had no interest. We remained cordial with one another; we just stopped spending time together. So much so that I was unaware he'd enlisted in the Air Force right after graduation from high school.

I was driving past his house one afternoon when I decided on a whim to stop by and see if he was there. His younger sister, Debbie, answered the door and let me in. She told me he wasn't in because he was in Texas and then explained why. She told me, "He's been in basic training for a month now. " We spent a few minutes reminiscing and catching up when the front opened without a knock. I expected her mom but it was actually her Aunt Donna, an attractive woman of about 45.

Debbie told me she'd been asked to the junior prom by a guy she'd been crushing hard on but didn't know how to dance. Coincidentally, her aunt dropped by at that exact time I was there to give her a few pointers. I was going to excuse myself when Donna said, "No! Please don't go on my account. I won't be long. I just wanted to give Deborah some quick pointers on slow dancing." I told her I could use some help in that department, too, and she said, "Then it's settled. I'll help both of you while I'm here!"

After a few minutes of Donna's tutelage on the basics, she volunteered to be my partner to see if I'd picked up anything at all. I wasn't a good dancer but I did had a little bit of experience thanks to my high school friends in the Mormon Church who occasionally invited to church-sponsored dances. Even so, I pretended to have two left feet in hopes of finagling a private lesson at her house down the road. I tried not to be too obvious by just stepping all over her feet but I was bad enough to get her to say (rather reluctantly), "Oh, my. That's not too bad, Cal, but you're going to need a little more work and unfortunately, I don't have any extra time right now. But Deborah? You're doing great! Your young man is going to be very impressed.

As Donna was leaving, I told Debbie I'd better scoot, too, and followed Donna outside. As we got to our cars I said, "Oh, let me get that for you" and stepped around to her side to open the door.

"Thank you, Cal! You've become quite the young gentleman since the last time I saw you—what was it—three years ago?"

"Six, actually."

"Really? It's been that long? Oh, my goodness how time flies. Well, you certainly do look good and it was nice seeing you."

She slid into the driver's seat and before I closed her door I asked, "Is there any chance I might actually get a bit more help with my dancing? I mean, if you can even call it that."

Donna laughed and said, "Of course. I'd be glad to help. What works for you?"

To my surprise, she agreed to meet the next afternoon at her place at 2pm which meant her husband, Jim, would be at work or maybe even out of town. I showed up with high expectations and I was brimming with confidence having conquered two other very attractive, middle-aged women in the last six months. I also had a girlfriend who was in college and now home for the summer but like Jell-O, there was always room for more when it came to attractive women. And Donna seemed ripe for the picking!

After a few minutes of small talk, Donna reviewed the basics with me again then put on some music we could dance to. This time, I put my best foot forward (pun intended) and although I wouldn't be winning any contests, Donna was duly impressed. "Wow! What a difference a day makes! Where's that other left foot you showed me yesterday?"

"You're a great teacher," I told her as we continued dancing. Based on our small talk, I got the distinct impression her husband was gone a lot and when he was home, not all that engaged with his very nice-looking wife. I felt even more emboldened to see if I might add another notch to my belt at the end of the second song.

During the middle of that second tune, I pulled Donna's hand in and held it against my chest. There was no resistance. I then let go of it and as if on cue, she put her arms around my neck and moved in very close to me. I was convinced this was yet another lonely, middle-aged woman in need of some afternoon delight so as we got near the end of the song I moved my head back and said, "You know, this is really nice. Thank you for spending time with me."

Donna smiled and I was totally wowed by her perfect teeth and still very pretty face. "It was my pleasure, Cal. I can't imagine any middle-aged woman not enjoying the company of a very handsome, younger man."

The last bars were playing and our eyes were still locked as I leaned in and kissed her on the mouth. As my eyes were closing I sensed hers opening wide and as our lips met, she pulled back sharply and slapped me across the face. "What in the hell do you think you're doing? I'm a married woman and I have NO interest in you like—that! You need to leave right now!"

I didn't apologizing or even bother speaking. I just quietly picked up my jacket and left her standing there pointing at the door.

Okay. So I was now two for three. Any baseball player would be ecstatic to have that kind of batting average and as the song said "two out of three ain't bad."

Little did I know number three was just around the corner and that my Mormon girlfriend, Karen Moreland, would be the one to introduce me to another member of the local Mormon church, Mrs. Lauren Bagwell.

Chapter 1

Summer brought other changes, as well. The first was that Karen was home for the summer. That meant I had a hot young girl to bang almost anytime I wanted. The only downside was her Mormon faith led her to constantly mention (prior to our fucking) how wrong it was for her to let me fuck her. That got old very fast.

The second was the fact that the teacher I'd been banging whenever her husband was out of town was now my former teacher. Of course, being married meant that was really a distinction without a difference because news of the affair would still end her career and her marriage. Like Karen, she mentioned our age difference and student/teacher relationship ALL the fucking time and I was getting sick of that, too.

The third was that my now-37 year old cousin, Nancy, who also kept brining up our age difference and the fact that we were related.

I now faced the impossible dilemma of balancing three sexual relationships while trying not to let the other two find out. It reminded me of a very old movie starring Tony Curtis called "Boeing, Boeing" in which he had a revolving door of flight attendants (or stewardesses as they were called in 1965) and his attempts at keeping them all apart.

Faced with the impossibility of juggling all of this, I finally told both older women they were absolutely right and that we had to end this. In both cases, they seemed genuinely relieved and yet both of them begged me stay and fuck them one more time. Well, okay. I can do that. 

During the two weeks of summer in the greater Seattle area, it can actually get very warm. Every ten years or so, it even gets hot for a day or two when the temperatures rise above 90 degrees. Most years, a few days in the mid-80s is considered a heat wave. This particular summer brought a very unusual five-day stretch of that kind of "blistering heat."

I was getting ready to go to college myself. I'd been accepted to the University of Washington and coming from a dirt-poor family, I had to save enough money to pay for my education myself. I wanted to be an engineer and my primary interest was computer engineering. In order to save money, I worked full-time on a dairy farm milking cows, baling hay, shoveling silage (and a lot of shit), and doing other odd jobs. I was always on the lookout for other work that would bring in some extra cash. Karen was really good about talking me up to folks at her local church ("ward" in Mormon speak) and I got several jobs painting houses, mowing lawns, and hanging drywall.

The hardest job turned out to be for a woman named Lauren Bagwell who was also a Mormon. She was married to an airline pilot who gone a LOT. In fact, I later learned that he volunteered to fly as money hours a month as FAA regulations allowed in spite of the fact that they had no children and more money than they could ever spend. It's VERY unusual for Mormons not to have a bunch of children. Having none almost always indicated fertility problems and this was no exception. Lauren wouldn't tell me who was at "fault" but I suspected it was probably her husband. I'll explain why later.

Lauren and her husband, Reed, lived on a huge sprawl of land in the suburbs of King County. They had some 80 acres of land and all of it was fenced in. Many of the fence posts were in dire need of repair and quite few others needed to be replaced altogether. One Sunday evening, Karen told me that "Sister Bagwell" wanted to hire me to take of this for her so she set up a meeting with her for me on Monday after I finished working on the farm.

I got there around 6pm which was as early as I could after going home, taking a bath (we had running water but no shower), and eating dinner first. Her home reminded me a lot of the home of my other Mormon friend, Sterling, whose dad was also a pilot but for a different airline. He loaned me two horses on my first date with my cousin Nancy so I could surprise her with something that didn't cost a lot of money. That and a key to his dad's cabin on the lake allowed me to make love with her once I was able to make her special after a long run with jerks who'd all treated her poorly.

I pulled into the long driveway and parked next to their four-car garage. I walked up the long sidewalk to the front entrance admiring the variety of flowers and topiary trees. I rang the doorbell and waited. A moment later a VERY attractive woman of about 40 opened the door and absolutely dazzled me with her smile. "Hi! I'm Lauren. You must be Cal. Please come in. Karen has told me so much about you. Thank you for coming. This is a really big job."

I couldn't believe the size of the enormous glass paned windows or the incredible amount of landscaping all around the property. Inside, there were massive wooden beams all along the ceiling and everything in the house was very high end. I thanked her for hiring me and asked her to show me what needed to be done. As we made our way through the 7,500sqft house, I could help but notice what Lauren was wearing. I've explained my "sweater fetish" more than once so I'll just recap by saying that I'm a sucker for anything that's form fitting with a ribbed-knit look to it. It need not be a sweater, per se. Just a knit top that fits snugly and shows off my favorite part of a woman's anatomy—her boobs. I should note here that Mormon men and women wear underwear they call temple garments. I like to refer to them as "magic jammies" but my Latter-day Saint friends don't appreciate my humor in that regard. These garments cover a woman from her neck to the top of her knee and make it impossible to wear anything with thin straps. It's even hard to wear something sleeveless but a top with cap sleeves will cover up the jammies quite nicely. That's important because what she wore on our first night together told me she wasn't wearing her garments—a huge no-no for any Latter-day Saint.

Lauren was wearing a white, rib-knit top with cap sleeves, and black short pants that went to the middle of her calves. She had a nice, tight waistline and a perfect ass to boot. Her face was just drop-dead gorgeous and it was not only still free of wrinkles but framed by a hair that was a beautiful shade of light red head. I suppose it would be called strawberry blonde but I'm not sure about that.

She wore just the right amount of makeup and as I said, she had a perfect smile and soft, full lips. Unlike my English teacher who'd long since abandoned her Mormon faith, Lauren was very much active in church affairs. Getting in bed with this woman looked a lot like climbing Mount Impossible but in spite of my setback with Donna, my two conquests gave me the confidence I needed to try. It was definitely game on!

We reached the back of the house which led out onto a huge deck which in turn led to a very large patio then out toward an enormous building which was a barn for their three horses and other supplies. Lauren chatted politely as we walked. When we reached the barn, she asked if I minded pulling open the very large and very heavy front door. "Not at all," I assured her. I grabbed the large metal handle and gave it a pull. It was on rollers so it slid very easily. In fact, it slid SO easily I had to grab it and slow it down before it slammed into the other side.

"Karen told me you lift weights, but I didn't think you could tear off my barn door!" Lauren teased. "The good news is you'll need all those muscles to put in the 200 fence posts we have stacked in here." I followed her inside and in the large, open area to our right was a humongous stack of wooden fence posts.

I knew better than to swear so I just whistled and said, "Holy cow. You weren't kidding, Mrs. Bagwell. That's a LOT of posts."

Lauren laughed politely and said, "Please call me Lauren, okay Cal? I just turned 40 last month and already feel old. The last thing I need are guys your age calling me Mrs."

That was my first in-road with this beautiful woman! "Okay, I'll do that, and thank you—Lauren. And for the record, I can assure you that no one who's seen you would believe you're anywhere near 40. Had you said you just turned 30, I might have believed you. Even then I'd still wonder."

"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and believe you're an honest young man Cal, but we Latter-day Saints don't care too much for telling lies." Lauren was feigning being serious. She paused for a moment and added, "Even when they're the polite kind of lies many call the 'white' variety. But thank you for that. It was nice to have an attractive young man say something so sweet whether or not he actually believes it."

"Oh, he definitely believes it, Mrs. Bag....Lauren. Trust me on that, okay?"

She laughed politely again then changed the subject. "Okay, these are all the new posts and over here is the tractor and trailer you'll need to move them around the property. As you can see, it has an auger on the back which you can use to deepen any existing hole or to dig a new one. And here's the chain for pulling out the old ones." She kept walking and talking. "Over here we have everything else you'll need like barbed wire, staples, and other stuff you'll need to tighten or replace the fence."

After that, she asked me if I'd like to drive or ride along on the tractor. "Guess I better learn to drive," I answered.

"I can do that," Lauren announced. "Can you help me up?" she asked.

I offered her my hand. She used it to steady herself and then stepped up and onto the tractor itself. "You go ahead and sit down and I'll stand behind you and be your backseat driver."

We both laughed. Lauren patiently showed me how to start it up, put in gear, and use the auger in back. After that short tutorial we did a whirlwind tour of their huge ranch and I got a feel for where all the new posts would go. The best part of the tutorial was that she kept her hands on my shoulders to steady herself as we bounded along through the fields.

"It's light until after 9 o'clock this time of year but since you said you'll likely be out much later than that, we have a portable LED tripod you can set up in the trailer back here," she said pointing to the large wagon following us around. She showed me how to set that up and use it, too, as part of the free tour.

I dropped her back at the house and told her I'd like to get started. She said she'd go in and fill up a large container with ice water for me and be right back. I pulled the trailer up next to the stack of posts, jumped out, and got ready to start transferring them to the trailer. It was one of those unusually hot days so I pulled off my shirt and tee-shirt, put on my gloves and starting moving wood.

I'd almost finished the first load when I noticed Lauren come around the front of the barn bent over from the weight of this huge cooler. I tossed the post I was carrying into the trailer and said, "Hold on! I'll get that for you." I trotted out to where she was and grabbed the orange cooler and said, "You should have told me you needed this carried out for you."

Lauren walked alongside me and said, "I may be old but I'm not helpless, you know." Again, we both laughed. I set the cooler up on the tractor and got ready to mount up again before she said, "Besides, if you'd come in with me then I'd have missed the Chippendale show you were putting on. I knew you were a weight lifter but I had no idea." She smiled but it wasn't a lurid kind of smile.

I lowered my head in what still wasn't a false modesty. I was learning to accept the new me but so many years of being overweight and having terribly, protruding teeth meant this wasn't coming easily for me. I did know enough to accept a compliment when offered and told Lauren, "Well, thank you. I hadn't planned to do a strip tease. It's just that it's very warm..."

Lauren cut me off. "Oh no! It's okay. I was totally teasing about the Chippendale thing. I only said it because it's the first thing that came to mind when I saw your..." She was clearly very uncomfortable. "I mean, it's just that it's really obvious that you work out." She now seemed even more uncomfortable. "Wow. Did I just say that? How cliché, right? It's the old movie line: Oh, do you work out? I can't believe I did that. But then in your case, you really do work out, so.... I better stop while I'm only slightly behind here. As they say, if you're in a hole, stop digging, right?"

It was now my turn to laugh. "You're a very nice lady, Lauren. I love when a woman can make me laugh." I made eye contact with her again and just as I did I noticed her eyes move up from looking at my chest to my face. Lauren was now clearly embarrassed.

"Oh, my goodness. I'm just gonna go back inside where I can't do or say anything else foolish." Lauren gestured toward the house using both arms as her thumbs pointed to where she wanted to go.

"Use the walkie-talkie if you need anything. Otherwise, I'll see you when you're done, okay, Cal?"

"Roger that, ma'am!" I said. I kind of saluted as I fired up the tractor and Lauren kind of returned my salute. More importantly, her smile seemed ever-so slightly different this time. It was somehow...softer.

It was after 11pm when I pulled back into the barn. I'd gotten about 25 posts in and the wire back in place. At this pace, I'd be here working nights until school started. I threw my t-shirt back on and carried my shirt in my hand. It was still warm and that was unusual in this part of the country.

Lauren was still up when I closed up the barn and she came out on the patio again to thank me.

"It was my pleasure," I reassured her as I returned the cooler.

"Would you like something else before you go?" she asked me. "Something else to drink or maybe a sandwich?"

"Thank you very much. That's very tempting," I told her. "Honestly though, I have to get up at 5am to be at work by six so can I take a raincheck?"

"Of course!" she said. "How far did you get tonight?"

I told her how much progress I made and she seemed thrilled. "Wonderful!" she said. "At this rate, you'll be done in no time!"