This story involves a retired man and a young woman whose paths cross one afternoon...
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Chapter One: She looked familiar.
She looked familiar, but for the life of him he just couldn't remember who she was. That's what starts to happen when you turn 60, he figured, but it doesn't make it any better to have an excuse for a failing memory.
He had seen her back in the fields the weekend before, only that time she was with some tall, skinny guy. They had been looking at plants and things back there, and were taking notes while they gathered specimens that afternoon, but today she was by herself. She was short and chubby, with dark brown hair that she wore shoulder length, and the glasses that she wore were big and round with thick lenses.
It wouldn't exactly be considered stalking, since the land back there was technically his, but he was watching the young woman intently. Just trying to remember who she was or where he knew her from, he reasoned to himself.
She was wearing a sweatshirt and shorts today, much like she had the other day, but today was much warmer. Too warm for that top, and almost as if she had read his mind, she unzipped the sweatshirt and tied it around her waist.
The young woman was wearing a white tank top underneath, and when that sweatshirt came off, the tall elderly gentleman immediately started walking toward her. Just trying to remember who she was, he kept telling himself, all the while fixated on the girl's enormous breasts that hung unsupported in the cotton top.
"Hello there," he said cheerfully.
She had not seen him approaching, and pushed her horn-rimmed glasses up her nose as she looked in his direction. Hurriedly, she tried to get the sweatshirt untied and back on, but only succeeded in dropping it.
When she bent down to pick it up, the man got a delightful view of her cavernous cleavage and a considerable part of her massive bosom as well, causing an immediate stiffening of a particular part of his anatomy.
"Oh, sorry," the young lady said, holding the sweatshirt in front of herself while looking at him funny. "Uh - Mr. Yorkshire?"
"That's right, and who might you be?" he mused aloud, unable to put a name to the face to save his life, although it was right on the tip of his tongue.
"I'm Cathy. Cathy Bauer. I used to live around here," she declared, and after she saw him still with a lost expression on his face, gave him another hint. "Down by the four corners?"
"Oh yes," the man said, and although he really didn't remember the name, at least there had been a reason that the face had been vaguely familiar. "Haven't seen you in a long time."
"We moved a few miles west way back when I was in fourth grade," Cathy said, continuing to push her horn-rimmed glasses up her sweaty nose.
"I recall you used to ride your bike down the road really fast," he said, his eyes working overtime as he surveyed the chubby gal's assets, which were considerable.
"That was me," Cathy said with a grin.
"Of course, you were such a little girl way back then, and now - well, you certainly aren't a kid any more," Mr. Yorkshire said, trying to peek around the sweatshirt that the girl was using to block his view of those big breasts. "You're quite the woman now."
Cathy shrugged and blushed, moving a step back toward the tree.
"Want to get in under the shade?" Mr. Yorkshire suggested. "That sun is brutal today."
"Uh... yeah, it is," Cathy said, and turned and stepped back into the shade, with Mr. Yorkshire in quick pursuit.
Cathy had a very full butt on her, and while her calves were plump, they were shapely. She was very short, he thought to himself. Maybe 5'1" or 5'2" at best, but there was a lot of woman packed into that short frame.
"There, this is better," Mr. Yorkshire said, wiping his brow as he stood next to the girl. "With these clothes on I'm not dressed for a hot day like today myself either. I saw you all bundled up in that sweatshirt and figured you must have been sweating up a storm too."
"Yeah, it is hot," Cathy responded.
"I saw you back here last week," Mr. Yorkshire said. "You were with a tall fellow. Boyfriend?"
"Ryan? No, I wish," Cathy blurted out. "We are doing a botany term paper in school and he got stuck with me as a partner."
"Where is he today?"
"With his girlfriend, I guess," Cathy guessed.
"And you get stuck doing all the work?"
"It isn't so bad," Cathy reasoned. "I love it back here. I used to come back here all the time when I was a kid. That's how I knew this would be a good place to find samples. Plus, it's so peaceful and secluded."
"Except when an old man comes back here and ruins it," Mr. Yorkshire suggested.
"Well, it is your land, isn't it?" Cathy said apologetically. "I'm probably trespassing."
"You're welcome anytime, Cathy," he told her. "Someone as pretty as you makes the place even more attractive to the eye."
Cathy pushed her glasses back up her nose and smiled, obviously not used to getting compliments like that. She was cute in her own way, but was obviously no raving beauty. Still and all, the man's words did have the desired effect.
"And you say that your young friend won't be joining you today?" Mr. Yorkshire asked, and when Cathy nodded he smiled in response.
"Here, why don't we hang this thing up here so you don't have to lug it around?" Mr. Yorkshire offered, but took the sweatshirt from Cathy before getting a response, and hung the hood over a branch beside him.
Cathy's hand reached out weakly and tried to grab it, but it was already up on the branch, leaving her feeling rather under-dressed under the prying eyes of her old neighbor.
..
Chapter Two: Exploring Cathy.
Mr. Yorkshire smiled at seeing Cathy's obvious discomfort. She crossed her arms over her chest, but there was so much chest that it was impossible, and the action merely forced more of her tits up to the scoop neck of her blouse for his enjoyment.
"What's the matter, dear?" Mr. Yorkshire asked. "You aren't frightened of me, are you?"
