The Grotto 2

I'd intended to publish this at the beginning of June 2019, to get 13 stories in my first year of publishing on this site. Unfortunately, and despite pressuring Xpoerotica to edit it quickly, I got sidetracked and it's sat untouched for a few months. However, now the nights are drawing in, I should get back into finishing off the stack of stories I have waiting.

This story is about an older man meeting a younger woman, and their subsequent risky anonymous adventures. Special thanks to Xpoerotica for feedback and support.

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The Grotto

It all started over a piece of land.

For whatever reason, the plot of land next to my home has never been developed, and in the subsequent 40 years, it has laid a wasteland of stunted trees, brambles, and ferns. Across the middle is an unofficial footpath, acting as a shortcut through the neighbourhood. I know it is unofficial as I had it checked out before I purchased it.

Not that I planned on anything specific for the land, I'd only bought it, as it had suddenly come on the market and I didn't want additional neighbours.

I returned from the lawyers with the deeds in my hand and a deep hole in my pocket from paying commercial prices. Walking into the centre, I surveyed my new purchase. Decades of rubbish from schoolchildren's pockets had gathered on the spines of thorns and brambles. I suppose my first job is to try to clean it up to see what I've actually got.

"Excuse me." From a polite female voice behind me, and I step to the side of the path to let a young dog walker pass.

"Sorry, miles away," I reply and notice the woman, I'd guess to be mid-twenties, which is around half my age. She's walking a Jack Russell puppy and stands next to me looking into the mess of chest-high weeds.

"I hear this land is up for sale." She comments.

"Just been sold," I answer, but I don't mention I'm the one who bought it. It would only produce a shower of questions on what my plans were. And to be honest, I've no idea yet.

"What a shame, I suppose they'll want to build on it."

"I wouldn't be so sure. I don't think the new owner will."

"Wanna bet? For the money, they were asking, whoever bought it must want to build on it."

"How about £100 that they won't?"

"That's too steep for me. How about if I just flash you my boobs?" That caught me by surprise.

The woman is rather plump with very large breasts, noticeable even through her coat. Then I realise I'm staring at her chest and look up to see her grinning at me.

"It's a bit disproportionate, isn't it?" I scratch my chin thoughtfully. "I'm sure your breasts are amazing but are they really worth £100?"

"Not so certain of your wager now? How about if you get a chance to see them for a full 10 seconds?" she asks playfully.

"Ten minutes." I counter, trying to make it sound light and jokey.

"One-minute topless and that's my final offer. However..." she reaches down to scratch the dog behind its ears. "As we haven't set a time limit, how could we ever know who won?"

"True. But how about this..." I pull the deeds from my pocket and hold them out for her to read the cover. Then raise my hand in salute.

"I own the house next door, and I promise on my boy scouts woggle, that I will not build on this land anytime for at least ten years?"

She bursts out laughing, and I have to join in.

"OK, you got me. I suppose I should pay up on my bet now."

"It's OK, I'll let you off. I had you at an unfair disadvantage from the outset."

"Are you saying you don't want to see my boobs? That's a first."

"No!" And I realise I've walked into a trap. "I mean, I'd love to see them, but it's unreasonable for me to expect it in the circumstances."

"OK, how about a rain check?"

"Fine, I'll hold on to the wager until I'm sure my old heart can take it. Five minutes naked, wasn't it?" I query.

"One minute, and only topless." She replies and grins, then continues to walk the dog.

The next day sees me dressed in my old motorcycle leathers; I'd got rid of the bike years ago, but kept the leathers. They are a bit snug and rather warm, but ideal for pushing my way through the undergrowth. I have small pruning shears in one hand and the long handled 'grown up' version in the other.

I begin to clear a path about two feet wide along my property line. By the time I reach the corner, I have a mountain of cuttings and the beginning of RSI from the pruning shears. Taking a break, I leave to purchase a little incinerator, a galvanised bin on legs with holes in the sides and a short chimney in the lid.

I set up the incinerator and start to burn off the cuttings. This is very smoky and I have to limit it to a few hours at a time to avoid pissing off any neighbours with their washing out. Still, it gives me an excuse to reduce the hours I spend clearing up the plot.

Over the course of weeks, I bump into people who have been neighbours for years and most stop to chat about the land and my plans for it.

I don't see the Jack Russell woman again until the day I made a discovery. I'd dropped my pruning shears and, as I was bending to pick them up, I noticed a gap in the undergrowth. There was almost a little tunnel leading deeper into a thicket. Lying down, I could see the passage went almost straight for nearly ten feet and opened into a larger space.

I realised it corresponded with the base of one of the larger trees which seem to have a defence mechanism that kept the undergrowth thinner around their base.

Curious, I crawl on my stomach down the tunnel and into a little grotto under the tree. Patches of sky are visible between the brambles overhead and they are just high enough to allow me to sit up, in a space about eight feet by four. Obviously it took more than nature to make this space. I can see cut marks on many of the bigger creepers. The earth is compacted and mostly plant free.

Then I notice something pushed under a rock and pull out a plastic bag. I can guess the contents immediately, and a peek inside confirms my suspicions. Someone has rather cleverly wrapped a bundle of magazines in clear kitchen film to keep them dry and, for the most part, it has done the trick. When I was a kid it wasn't usual to find stashes of porn magazines in hedges or tree stumps. If you didn't want your "dirty magazines" found by your parents, you'd hide them in places like this.

It is impossible to guess how long this has been here, but I don't want children to find it, so I crawl out again, with the bag in my hand.

"Jesus Christ!" exclaims a voice, and I look up to see the Jack Russell lady holding her chest as I emerge as if from nowhere in front of her.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Why does each of our meetings begin with me apologizing?"

"Because you're a guy and a well-trained one. It's better to get your apology out early than wait until it's too late. What's that?" She asks, pointing to the bag. Should I tell the truth or pretend it is just rubbish?

"And where did you come from?" She squats down to peer into the tunnel.

"It's a little grotto under the tree. I just found it and then found this bag of porn in there."

"Really?" She asks, "Why?"

"Why what? The grotto or the porn? When I was a kid, it was common to have a stash of porn hidden in places like that."

"Wow, I suppose I'm so used to the internet. I can access porn for free anytime I like."

"And how often is that?" I ask, but she just grins back.

"Can I have a look?" She asks, and I don't know if she means the porn or the grotto again. As she gets onto her hands and knees, I realised two things.

Firstly, she means the grotto, and secondly, she has one hell of an arse. Generous and round and begging to be fondled and squeezed. That thought appears from nowhere, and I'm rather surprised. Since my wife's untimely death a few years ago, my sexual urges have withered to almost nothing.

As she crawls out of sight, I lie down to observe her progress. This has the advantage of providing the perfect vantage point from which to study her ample and amazing bum.

Once she turns sideways into the larger space, I get a true idea of just how large her boobs are. On her hands and knees they seem to fall halfway to the ground and swing pendulously each time she moves. She looks about, and then a shiver seems to convulse throughout her entire body.

"You OK?" I ask, and she replies she is, and then starts to crawl out.

This time I can watch her boobs swinging as she crawls towards me.

I offer a hand to help her to her feet, but as she stands, she looks down.

"Shit!" She exclaims and turns her back to me. Her hands reach under her jumper. "My tits have fallen out of my bra again."

"Oh!" is all I can manage.

"Just give me a second to wrestle them back into place." Then she looks over her shoulder at me.

"Unless you'd like to help?"

"I'd always like to help a damsel in distress." I give her a courtly bow.

"Too late! You snooze you lose." She laughs, and turns to me with everything tucked back into place.

"Could I have that?" She nods to the bag of porn at our feet.

"Why?" I ask.

"I'm curious. I've never actually see magazine stuff. I remember once overhearing my dad and his brothers tease each other about who had the largest collection. They didn't know I was eves-dropping at the time."

"OK, on one condition..."

"What's that? You want to call in our wager?"

"No, not this time. Just tell me what caused you to shiver like that in there? It was as if someone walked over your grave."

She looks away and bites her lower lip lightly, then looks back at me, appraising me for several moments before replying.

"OK, it's a little weird, but I was thinking how many times guys have jerked off in there. The amount of spunk spilled on the ground, it kinda got to me. You know - sexually."

"Oh!" is all I can manage again.

"So can I have it?"

"Sure, but I have to warn you I've no idea what's in there. It might be nasty."

"That's good; I like to be a nasty girl now and again." She scoops up the bag and walks away.

This is one strange woman. Interesting, but a little weird.

The next time I see her walking her dog nearly a week later. I call out "Have you read anything interesting recently?" She comes closer and whispered conspiratorially.

"It was quite eye-opening. Who knew everyone had afros down there back then?"

"Oh, they were from the sixties and seventies. Pretty tame, I suppose."

"Most, but one was pretty steamy. Had my motor running if you know what I mean."

Having a young woman comment on her sex life was a surprise. I'd meant to tease her a little, but it backfired.

"Did you know fashion choices today have nearly killed off the pubic louse entirely?" I ask, trying to get myself back on balance.

"Eww! Fortunately, I don't have to worry about such things. I'm as smooth as a anything down there." She smiles as she teases me.

I get another twinge of excitement at the thought of her smooth vulva and wonder if there is any way to persuade her to adjust our wager and let me see that, instead of her boobs.

"I wonder if anyone has been back to the grotto since we took the magazines away."

She looks thoughtful, but her Jack Russell pulls at his lead on seeing another dog, and she waves and walks away.

Later that night as I stand enjoying the crisp evening breeze with my back door open, I notice the light of a torch moving through the land next door. That's not unusual. I must figure out whether or not to shut off the path.

However, what is unusual is that the light cuts out part way through the land. Has the torch broken or is somebody planning something nefarious? Walking around to the front of the house and looking down the road, expecting to see someone emerge from the overgrown land, I see nothing.

Curious, I step onto the far end of the path and follow it. Then the idea hit me that it might be someone trying to retrieve his porn stash. There is definitely a sound coming from the grotto.

Now I have a dilemma, I don't want to crawl in there to find a guy jerking off, but I don't want whoever was in there to continue using it. Stepping closer, I must have made a noise, as a voice calls out.

"Is someone there?" It's the voice of the Jack Russell owner.

"What are you doing in there?" I ask and dropped to my knees to peer into the hole.

The moonlight from above is enough to reveal the woman inside, and in the split second before I'm blinded by her torch, I see one of her breasts is exposed, and one hand is inside her pants.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" She intones as I stand up blinking.

Seconds later, I hear her scurrying towards me.

"Fuck I'm so mortified right now," she says as she appears from the tunnel and clambers to her feet.

"Ouch!" She exclaims, and we look down to see she has a piece of bramble thorns sticking out of her hand.

"We need to get that looked at," I comment.

"No! I need to go home."

"That looks like blackthorn. It can be poisonous if not treated properly. You're coming with me." She looks like she wants to flee, so I added. "We're yards from my home, and I can clean it up easier than you could. Plus I'm not going to tell anyone what happened."

She nods and starts walking towards my house.

In the kitchen, she won't catch my eye, and I lead her over to the sink, take her soft hand, and extract the thorns carefully. Finally, after checking the wounds, I put her hand into a bowl of hot water and disinfectant."

"At least five minutes, OK? Now, do you want to tell me what you were doing?"

She finally looked me in the face and replies.

"I think it was pretty obvious what I was doing, or do you want me to spell it out?"

"I think you better, it looked like you were playing with yourself, but I'm sure it's a lot more complicated than that."

She looks away, out of the open back door and for a moment, I think she's going to flee, and I won't stop her if she does.

"When I was a small girl, an old guy in a raincoat flashed my mum and me. She chased him off immediately, but had to endure dozens of questions from me about it, and so much more. Questions she would never normally be expected to answer for years to come. And I wouldn't let the matter drop until she explained everything."

"So how does that have anything to...?" I ask, but she cuts me off.

"Ever since I've had a sort of obsession over men masturbating. I've asked boyfriends to do it for me, but they either refuse or do it for like ten seconds, and then insist we get down to business."

"And the thought of guys doing it in that little grotto made you want to..." The idea seems odd to me, but the brief image of a naked breast combined with what she was doing, has my long underused cock hardening.

"Yes, it was stupid, really. I shouldn't have tried it, or I should have waited until like 3 am or something."

"The idea of a guy wanking gets you excited?" I ask, and she looks away but nods.

"A particular guy or just any guy?"

"Why?" She asks, looking at me curiously.

"Would I do?" I've no idea why I make the offer. Tensing, expecting a rebuke, a slap in the face before she storms out. Instead, her curiosity turns to incredulity.

"You'd do that for me?"

My first reaction is to try to play it off as a joke, one that went wrong, but my voice won't come. I clear my throat and manage a faint.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because..." I run out of words and sigh. "I'm not really sure, but if I'm brutally honest. I suppose I was attracted to you the first time we met. The time you bet your boobs." I try to make light of it, and she looks down at her breasts and is smiling when she looks up.

"Then the other week when I saw you crawl into the grotto, your beautiful bum..."

"My great fat arse you mean?"

"No, I think it is a thing of wonder, something ancient men would worship. And by that, I don't mean I'm an ancient man. Although, I might be in your eyes."

"By no means, older but also wiser." She smiles again.

"When you were on your hands and knees with your great big bosoms hanging out of your bra. I got the first sign of an erection in years."

"Really? And you'd do it for me? Masturbate in front of me without expecting anything in return?"

"If you'd like me to?" She nods enthusiastically.

I'd been growing hard during this conversation and now was at the point of no return.

Kicking off my shoes, I unfasten my trousers and let them fall to my ankles, then grab the waistband of my underwear and tug them down. I'm only about average, although my wife was always satisfied with what I had down there. Looking across at the woman, I still didn't know the name of, I wonder what she thinks.

"Not bad." She says, staring at my mostly hard cock. It twitches, and she looks up at me. "Pretty good actually."

It was the first person to see my manhood in years, and somehow, the approval of this stranger meant the world to me.

Gripping the shaft, I ease back the foreskin, exposing the deep purple glans beneath. Her eyes are glued to my cock, and I lift my shirt up and off, leaving myself entirely naked. The many hours of hard work on the land next door had toned me up some, and I'd never quite let it go entirely.

My cock is now entirely hard and I slowly stroke it wondering why I'd given this feeling up. My thoughts move to the darker seas of my wife's death, and I seek to turn it to something more pleasant. Closing my eyes, trying to recall the brief instant when I'd seen one of her naked breasts in the grotto.

Not knowing why she wants this, or how, I decide to do it slowly. Savour it and take my time. Trying to build up an image of her naked before me. Opening my eyes to refresh the image of her, to see one of her hands under her jumper and the other deep within the stretchy confines of her trousers. Her eyes are fixed on my crotch, watching my hand wank my cock.

Speeding up a little, I notice her hands matching the speed of my movements.

"Is this what you wanted?" I ask, and she jumps, almost as if she'd forgotten I was on the other end of the cock.

Her hands stop moving, and she looks embarrassed, then a grin spreads across her face, and she nods.

"You can take off your trousers if it will help." She looks tense, so I try to reassure her. "It's OK. You're safe."

For an age, she sits there as I stroked myself in front of her, then she lifts up slightly, and the stretchy black trousers are tugged down to her ankles. Her extra-large black panties are quick to follow. Sitting down, her heavy thighs pressed together hiding most of her, but I can just make out the top of her slit and can confirm she is as hairless as she claimed.

"You cannot continue what you were doing if you sit like that." Again, a hesitation, but she opens her thighs. The sight is magical but covered quickly as both her hands descend, not to cover up, but to play with herself.

"Come closer." She orders and I step closer, I'm almost standing between her legs now.

"When I cum, and it won't be long, where do you want me to do it?" This time she replies instantly.

"On my tits! I want you to cum on my tits." Drawing my eyes up from her pussy to her jumper covered breasts. She seems to realise her mistake, grabs the hem of her jumper, and takes it off with such vigour that it flies off to land on the other side of the room.

Her giant black bra is struggling to contain her pale white tits, with practised ease, her hands reach behind her and the bra strap springs free. She tosses the bra after the jumper, and she's naked in front of me. Her breasts are huge and hang down, topped with angry hard dark nipples.

Pushing her bum to the very front edge of the seat, she reclines a little. Two fingers from one of her hands push deep inside her pussy as her other hand rubs her clit.

Then she surprises me by hooking her ankles around the back of my legs and pulling me closer. My knees against the side of her thighs and my legs pressing against the back of the hand buried in her pussy. This close, her are eyes locked on the rapid movement of my hand. Her chin juts forward, her mouth opens a little, and I have to wonder if she's changed her mind for my target.