Just Across The Fence Ch 04 1

These episodes won't make much sense unless you start at the first one and read them all in order.

Everyone's over eighteen, of course.

Going forward, I've decided to submit mid-week, so hopefully each of my new contributions will be available by the start of the weekend. Also, you will start to notice some elements of this saga might fit into other story categories, but I think Mature remains the predominant theme, and I plan to post them all here.

Chapter 4. A bump in the road; more sexy fun...and a big surprise.

Beth and I came lazily awake to the sun streaming in through her bedroom windows. Spotting my morning wood, she persuaded me that it deserved a slow, gentle fuck to settle things back down. I knew that left to itself it would subside quickly on its own without assistance, but I will readily admit she really didn't have much trouble convincing me to try her approach.

Lying in one another's arms, basking in the afterglow, I absentmindedly picked up my phone from the nightstand to check messages. One caller's name jumped out at me, and I quickly opened that message to see what she wanted.

Oops. Well, fuck. Shit just got real. Of course, it was my own fault, at least in part. But the music had to be faced, and putting it off would accomplish nothing. I had promised Beth I would harbor no secrets and, come hell or high water, I intended to honor that commitment. This marvelous lady I was falling in love with [and I was coming to realize that was indeed the case] deserved nothing less. She dozed comfortably in the crook of my arm. I gently shook her awake.

"What?" she whined sleepily.

"I just got a text from someone who wants to come visit me over the Memorial Day weekend coming up," I told her. "Someone you might want to meet. Or...then again, you might not, I'm not sure."

"What the hell does that even mean?" she demanded, still waking up. "And who is it, anyway?"

"It's my twenty-one-year-old granddaughter, Anna, Mike and Janine's youngest," I replied. "Your half-sister's daughter. Which makes her your half-niece, I guess."

"Well of course I'd love to meet her," she barked. "Why in hell would you think I wouldn't?"

"You'll have to tell me how you feel about her joining us this weekend," I said, "After I tell you why I think you might have some reservations."

"I guess you'd better tell me what the fuck you're talking about, John," she said, perplexed, and now fully awake.

"How much to you know about your half-sister Janine's family?" I asked.

"Not much," she admitted. "Like I told you, Mom wanted nothing to do with her my dad's second wife and her kids, so if she heard anything about any of them, she never passed it on to me. Since my stepdad was stationed overseas so often, coming to visit Dad while I was growing up just never happened. Mom pitched a tantrum if anyone even suggested it. Dad told me a few years back that he thought my stepdad was a fine man who would be a good role model for me, so he didn't press the visitation issue."

"My son Mike, your brother-in-law, or half-brother-in-law, if you like, is career Air Force; he flies jets," I explained. "He's been stationed all over the world."

"When Janine was pregnant with their oldest, Greg, she had very serious complications. It's a minor miracle he was born healthy at all, but Janine had to have a hysterectomy, so she couldn't have any more kids. Their two youngest are adopted."

"Twenty-one years ago, they were on Guam, where Mike was stationed. A serviceman got a local girl in trouble. Her family was Catholic, so no abortion, and they didn't want her to keep the baby either, maybe because it was going to be mixed race. The airman in question was Black."

"Mike and Janine were able to adopt the child, Anna, at birth. Over the years, whenever they were overseas, they would arrange for their kids to come stay with relatives stateside during the school year, and then spend the summers together as a family. Anna spent three consecutive years living with Margaret and me during the school year, attending grade school. Of course, she spent half that time over at Fred and June's place, since they're her grandparents as well. I've seen her for brief visits over the years since. The last visit was a long weekend last September, a quick fly-in from where she attends college on the east coast."

"Anna is...beautiful. Gorgeous. Not just my opinion," I cautioned. "She turns heads wherever she goes. Perfect bronze skin. Playboy Playmate figure. Tall. Stunning, exotic, sultry good looks. She takes modeling gigs now and then. If she should choose to make a career of it, like I think she will, she'll be on the cover of Vogue in no time." As I spoke, I brought up Anna's picture on my phone and handed it to Beth, and her face reflected agreement that Anna was indeed very attractive.

"Anna is...ebullient. Adventurous. Independent. A free spirit, even. Smart as a whip. And sexy as hell, and knows it, and loves to show it off. She's had numerous lovers, and doesn't care who knows about them."

I took a deep breath. This could be bad. Really bad.

"The last night Anna was here, last September...she seduced me," I confessed. And waited.

Beth stared at me wide-eyed. Finally, she found her voice. "You...SLEPT WITH HER?! Your granddaughter?"

"Of course, I suppose the truth is she didn't really find seducing me to be all that difficult. I woke up at one in the morning, to find her naked, already beside me in my bed, stroking my cock," I said, "I tried to tell her no, to send her away, but she was insistent. And irresistible. I tried to stop, I really did, but...she'd been flirting outrageously with me the whole weekend, flashing her body, rubbing up against me, dropping unsubtle hints about what she had in mind. I treated it like a running joke, warned her to be careful what she asked for, told her she was playing with fire, you know, just kidding around, playing along with her sexy little game, never dreaming she would really do something so bold."

"But once she dove under the covers to start blowing me, I was...gone," I confessed. "Lost. Helpless. Could not hold back, couldn't stop myself. It had been almost a month since I'd been with Sue, and I guess I was on a hair trigger. No excuse. Not exactly a zipless fuck, but close. She tested my resolve, and I was...weak."

"I don't blame her," I went on. "She was only being true to her own nature. And I wasn't strong enough to overcome mine, I guess."

Beth sat back staring at me, her expression unreadable.

"So what do you think, Beth?" I asked, desperately hoping she wouldn't just reflexively kick my stupid ass out of her bed, out of her house, and out of her life forever. "Am I a monster? Do I deserve to lose the wonderful new love that I just found, that I never expected, because one night nearly a year ago I couldn't summon the fortitude to kick a ravishing raven-haired goddess out of my bed?" I could feel my eyes getting ready to tear up, because I suddenly realized that, having found Beth, the prospect of losing her was frightening.

I held my breath. The moment seemed to stretch forever, and I waited fearfully to learn my fate. Finally, she rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Oh, hell," she said. "I guess if every man who let his cock do his thinking for him now and then were sent to the gallows, we'd need a lot more rope, wouldn't we? She's plenty old enough to decide for herself who she wants to screw. I know I sure made some...interesting choices of lovers when I was that age. I wouldn't call all of them smart choices, either...though some of them were a lot of fun."

"So, who the fuck am I to judge either of you? No one got hurt. And it was only incest in an arcane legalistic sense. The two of you share no actual common familial genetic heritage whatsoever."

"You sure you still want me?" I asked, not quite trusting my luck. "Knowing that I could be so spineless and idiotic?"

"If women refused to love men who acted stupid sometimes," Beth said firmly, "The human race would have gone extinct long ago. And the fact that you told me about this only confirms that you really are trustworthy and honorable. A lot of men would have tried to bury it."

"It could not stay hidden long with Anna around, trust me," I advised her. "She's not exactly indiscreet, but...she does tend to wear her heart on her sleeve, as it were. You would have figured it out, probably sooner and not later. As long as she was just a picture in a photo album, I didn't see any reason to tell you about it. But if a woman visiting me in my home is a former lover, my current lover deserves to know."

"Well, I can't be too mad at any woman who has such good taste in men as she does," Beth replied, smiling at me. "And I'm dying to meet her. Go ahead and text her, tell her to come. But when she arrives, mister, just be sure to make it clear to her whose bed you'll be sleeping in while she's here."

"Message received, loud and clear," I assured her. I typed a reply, and showed it to Beth before I sent it off.

"Would love to see you, have someone special here you must meet, who can't wait to meet you. See you soon."

Beth settled comfortably back into the crook of my arm, and my thumping heart gradually slowed back down to normal.

"I swear to God, John, if I wrote a soap opera script describing my last two days with you, the producers would laugh me out of the office for daring to submit anything so outrageous and unbelievable," she said.

"Tell me about it," I agreed. "And if I wrote it as the script of a porno movie, there would be bidding wars to buy it from me to make into a film, for the exact same reason."

"Sounds like a fun second career for you, though, don't you think?" she suggested, with a giggle. "You might even be invited onto the set, as an adviser. Wouldn't that be a gas?"

"I doubt it," I replied. "I would probably just embarrass myself with an awkward boner the whole time, from being around so many attractive naked women having sex."

"Well, I could come along to take care of that for you, darling," she suggested.

"And if the director saw you doing that, he'd want to put you in front of the camera instead of behind it," I asserted.

"Well, I'm game if you are," she said, a twinkle in her eye.

"I said you, not us," I retorted. "Men would be happy to pay to see you, but the women would just as happily pay NOT to have to look at my scrawny ass."

"Wait, did you just tell me you think I have 'porn star' good looks?" she demanded, feigning annoyance.

'Well, if the shoe fits..." I began, and immediately had to duck yet another pillow aimed at my head.

"Trust me, most men take one look at a beautiful woman, and immediately cast her and themselves in a porn flick that plays inside their head," I explained to her. "I'm no different. Except...most of us have the common sense not to admit it."

"I seem to recall that we have already established this morning that common sense in sexual matters may not be your long suit," she pointed out.

"I concede the point," I acknowledged. "But that brings the discussion full circle, so let's talk about something else. How about breakfast? Buy you some bacon and eggs, beautiful?"

------------------------

During breakfast at Woodward's Diner, I got a text from Anna saying that she would be flying in tomorrow, Friday, at 11:00 AM. After a brief chat with Beth, I responded, as Beth watched over my shoulder.

Me: Great, we'll pick you up, then we'll all go have lunch with your Grandpa Fred.

Anna: Cool. Who's your friend?

Me: It's a surprise. Bye, love you, see you tomorrow.

Anna: Oh, I just love surprises. Love you, bye.

"I'm starting to comprehend that you really get off on setting people up for shocking surprises, and then sitting back and watching the fun," Beth observed as I put my phone back in my pocket.

"I'm nowhere near that devious," I protested innocently. "These things just seem to fall into my lap. And it's only human for me to enjoy the fireworks."

"Enjoying the fireworks is one thing," she said. "Flinging buckets of gasoline on the flames is quite another. Sooner or later people are going to start noticing that, somehow, it's always you around on the sidelines rubbernecking at all these train wrecks. They'll get suspicious."

"Suspicion is not proof," I argued.

"I'm a woman," she told me distrustfully. "Suspicion is all the proof I need."

"That's old news to me," I commented. "I had a wife; we were married for forty-three years."

"In that case, I'm sure you know that, as far as the woman in your life is concerned, you're always guilty until proven innocent, or until you do something so spectacularly romantic that it distracts her sufficiently to make her forget why she was pissed at you to begin with," she told me.

"And I don't suppose you would happen to have any particular sort of romantic distraction in mind right now, would you?" I challenged her.

"I have inspiration is at my fingertips," she declared, reaching down provocatively to lightly stroke my crotch, her hand shielded from everyone's view by the edge of the tablecloth draped over our table. At least, I hoped it was concealed.

"Well, if you keep looking for it that way, you're liable to find you have more inspiration on your hands than you can manage," I warned her.

"Braggart," she growled skeptically. "I'm sure I can still handle any amount of inspiration you might be capable of bringing to the table these days, old man."

"Put your money where your mouth is, girl-child," I dared her, playfully.

Leaning in close, as she continued to clandestinely-and delicately-caress my swelling cock through the fabric of my shorts, she whispered lasciviously into my ear, "I'd much rather put my mouth where your inspiration is, dear."

------------

I managed to get us quickly out of Woodward's without embarrassing myself too much by the simple expedient of pulling out my shirttails to hang down over the conspicuous lump in my shorts. Driving home slowly while Beth distracted me by continuing to playfully, gently massage my erection through my clothing was tricky, but I managed it without killing anyone, though there were a couple of close calls that earned me a hullabaloo of blaring horns, indignant shouts, and rude gestures from other drivers.

"Is your pool ready to use?" she asked me, as I turned off into our neighborhood.

"All ready to go," I said. "The pool maintenance guys were there Monday checking it out. Want to stop by your place to grab a swimsuit?"

"What would we need swimsuits for, sweetheart?" she asked me, offhand.

"Oh, yeah, right," I stammered. Duh.

As I always did when unloading a passenger in the garage, I stopped a little short so Beth could exit the truck and walk across in front without having to squeeze between the fender and my somewhat grungy work bench. Once she had passed, I pulled on up so the garage door would clear the rear bumper, hit the remote switch on my visor to close the overhead door, and entered the house through the kitchen door.

I found myself following a trail of discarded women's clothing through the house: a couple of sneakers, then two ankle socks. Her purse sat on the kitchen counter with her necklace draped over it and her earrings, bracelet, and hair clip aligned neatly by its side. Just inside the den her colorful blouse lay crumpled in a heap, with her bra draped over an easy chair just beyond. In the middle of the room her shorts lay abandoned, and just inside the sliding glass patio door I came upon her panties, sporting a noticeable damp stain in the crotch, unmistakable evidence of her arousal, as the tented front of my shorts was proof of mine. Unable to resist the temptation, I picked them up and brought them to my face, inhaling deeply of the musky, heady, intoxicating aroma.

"There's plenty more where that came from, darling," Beth called from where she sat naked watching me, on one of the stone benches that surround my modest-sized pool. "I've been told it's best consumed directly from the source. But you're still more than a little overdressed, don't you think?"

"Sorry, guess I lost my head," I said apologetically, as I began to hurriedly strip down, working just carefully enough to avoid ripping any buttons off.

"Well, you better not have lost that little head you're always so proud of," she warned me, "Because if it's missing in action, there's not really much point in coming out here with me, is there?"

"I don't know, baby, I think I might have a pretty inspiring 'point' for your consideration," I lewdly suggested. Pushing my jockey shorts down to my ankles and kicking them aside, I strolled out on the patio to stand directly in front of her, as naked as she, sporting a full erection, seven inches of veined rod, topped with the engorged knob of my glans, aimed right at her head where she sat before me. From her seat, Beth ogled my quivering manhood speculatively.

"Hmm, all heads present and accounted for, it would seem," she said. "And you're absolutely right; it's an awe-inspiring sight, for sure."

"I'm kind of hoping to hear something a little more enthusiastic-sounding than just 'Aww' by the time we're done, or I'm going to be more than a little disappointed," I admonished her.

She grinned at my silly joke, and said, "That depends entirely on how well you use it, you know."

"You didn't have any complaints about how I used it the other night," I reminded her.

"No, I didn't, but you had some pharmaceutical assistance on Tuesday night," she reminded me, in my turn. "You're flying solo on this mission, captain."

"So I am," I agreed. "Working without a net, huh? Well, guess we better get going then, before my engines start cooling off."

"How shall we start, sweetie?" she asked, still staring fascinated at my bobbing boner.

"Dessert," I said firmly, turning abruptly away to walk over to the large cabinet that stood against the wall.

"Dessert?" she asked, puzzled, as I opened the cabinet and pulled out several large beach towels.

"We were in such a hurry to get out of Woodward's and back here, I didn't have a chance to get any dessert after we ate," I explained.

"Who the hell eats dessert after breakfast?" she demanded, flummoxed, as I carried the linen I had grabbed over to the large patio table.

One after another, I spread two of the towels out one atop the other on the stout, solidly-built redwood patio table. And as I did this, I told her, "The popularity of dessert after breakfast depends on what's on the menu."

"I see," she said, bemused, watching curiously as I returned to stand before her once more. "And what's today's special?"

"You," I informed her, holding out my hand. Instinctively she took it, and stood as I pulled her up. I pulled her arm gently but firmly back over my shoulder, at the same time stooping and ducking under, and wrapping my other arm around her backside I easily picked her up in a fireman's carry. She shrieked in startled surprise, her upper body now hanging down along my back, as I carried her the short distance over to the patio table.

Bending, I planted her ass gently on the edge of the table, on top of the towels, untangled her arms from around my neck, and then pushed her gently down onto her back. Grabbing another towel, I rolled it up tightly and slipped it under her head for a pillow.

"Comfy?" I asked.

From her prone position, she rocked her body experimentally, testing the stability of the table, and nodded. "This will do, I think," she told me. "Gonna dine at the Y, huh?"

"No better desserts to be found anywhere else in town, in my experience," I assured her.

I pulled over one of my huge wicker outdoor egg chairs, with its enormous flared backrest, and took a seat in it at the edge of the table directly in front of Beth's body, her shaved pussy directly below my face, her legs pulled up towards her chest to give me room. "You can extend your legs back down alongside my head, and brace your feet against the chair back,' I told her. "My weight will hold it steady." She did as I suggested, and found her legs supported comfortably by the back of the chair.