The Hedge 1

This story can be read in conjunction with "Redback". They are independent though.

Saturday arrived much too quickly and I was on my laden bicycle going to confront the challenge of the hedge. I was a nerd but I could sell my skills door to door, quote a price, set a string line and cut a hedge. It paid the university fees. Between cutting hedges, sleep and study there wasn't time for anything else.

The lady who employed me watched for a time as she sat on the steps of the verandah. I watched her too but being shy I was careful not to be obvious.

As the subject of so much attention my work rate was high and I made good progress. The sweat was flowing and my shirt was sodden.

Later, she brought me lemonade. As I drank I saw her hair was wet and she'd changed into a white, terry toweling dressing gown. It was, I thought, a little too small for her with a lot of cleavage showing. I did my best not to look as I handed the glass back and thanked her.

"Washing day, first me and then everything else," she explained and gave me a meaningful look.

"Everything!" she repeated, and walked slowly back to the house.

I continued to work. It wasn't long and she was stooping and stretching as she pegged clothes on the clothes line. Her belt fell from around her and the dressing gown opened at the front. I couldn't see any thing, my view was from the side. She gathered the dressing gown around her and reached for her belt. I knew she'd want to know if I was looking so I cut something with the long handled pruners.

The washing machine started a new cycle and I felt her watching again. I kept busy with the secateurs. Later, perhaps it was the smell of shampoo, I looked down. She was looking up at me. Our eyes met, I looked away and my eyes came to rest on her cleavage. I could feel myself flush red with embarrassment and checked to see whether she'd seen. She was looking at me, smiling.

"I've got cordial and cake on the verandah" she said, after some time. As I climbed down she held the ladder for me.

On the verandah we sat. She drank coffee. I drank cordial and ate cake. I tried not to but somehow I kept looking at her. The dressing gown was gaping at the top. I couldn't be certain but I thought she had nothing on under it. I could see a lot of one breast.

"Your shirt, it's wet and dirty. I'm washing. Give it to me." Her hand was out waiting. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to take it off but her hand stayed there, waiting. Eventually I reached down, peeled it over my head and put it in her hand. "Thank you," she said, as she looked at my chest. We sat, silent for a while, before I got up and went back to work.

It felt strange working without a shirt. I was sweating too, a wet sticky surface for all the dust and grime to settle on. I continued, cutting, sawing and pulling sections of hedge free. It was dirty work. The dust made me sneeze. Major renovations are always dirty. It didn't take long and I was black.

Moments later she was under the clothes line with a bucket of clothes, stooping and stretching again. She was facing me. I kept busy with the pruning saw, cutting the biggest branches I could find, half an eye on my work and the rest on her. The belt was loosening again. Every time she stooped I could see more. The neck line was becoming longer and longer.

I wondered whether she knew I was watching. I had a strange feeling I was being watched but knew she was too busy to be bothered with me. As the belt fell to the ground she turned away from me. I didn't see anything.

I'd done enough sawing so I put down the saw and tried to pull a few branches free. As usual, they were too tangled at the top. I had to climb the ladder and use the snips. It was difficult work. I stretched to reach with one foot on the ladder and one on the hedge for balance. There was a noise. I looked down and she was looking up.

"Lunch?" she asked. I was hungry.

"Yes please!" She held the ladder as I climbed down.

"Just look at you. You're so dirty. You'll have to have a shower before you eat," she said. I wasn't sure what to say but found I didn't have a chance to say anything. She'd turned and was walking away. I followed. "This way." she said when we were at the door. I followed her to the bathroom. She stopped and pointed. "Shower's in there, use the soap, shampoo and conditioner." With me now inside she pulled the door closed and left.

Looking around I saw everything was very clean and tidy with lots of mirrors.

The shower alcove was made of clear glass. I saw there was no lock on the bathroom door. I looked at myself in the mirror and was surprised. I was black all over and really did need a shower.

I bent down to pull off my boots, socks, shorts and underpants. In the shower alcove, as I washed, the water going down the drain was dark brown for a while. I used the shampoo and had my eyes closed as I rinsed. Eventually, I opened my eyes.

"Towel for you, and I've got your clothes to wash. I'm leaving some of my clothes. You can use them while I've got yours." I heard heard her say, as I turned away in case she was looking at me. The bathroom door closed and she was gone.

When finished I turned off the taps and got out. The towel was soft and welcoming. I looked for some underpants but there were none. So I put on the shorts. They were very short shorts, with almost no leg and very wide. I needed something to hold them up. Luckily, I found a bobby pin. Then I put on the socks she'd left for me and my boots. She met me as I left the bathroom and I followed her out to the verandah where there were sandwiches waiting.

I sat, leaned against a post as she sat opposite me and we started eating. I was hungry and thirsty. After eating a sandwich I reached for the glass of cordial and drank. Then I saw she was looking at me.

"I chose those shorts well," she said. I was pleased to be complimented and looked down in agreement. I was very surprised because my dick was poking through the bottom of the shorts. I felt myself go bright red and I pulled at the shorts to make them cover me. I tried to push everything back into place but the shorts were too short. The more I tried, the more my dick was exposed and the more it grew.

"Don't worry," she kept saying but I was worried. Being unsuccessful with pulling and pushing I eventually thought to turn myself so I was side on to her and didn't have more cause to be embarrassed.

My dick continued to grow, it started to stiffen and rose from its hanging position to be standing, the purple head peeked out from inside its stretched foreskin and the veins along it's shaft were so swollen it looked like they would pop. My dick was enthusiastic in its display and had no regard for my feelings. I could feel the prickles of embarrassment.

She watched as I tried to ignore it. I saw her craning for a better view and her dressing gown fell off one of her legs. I could see she had no knickers on because her whole hip was visible. My dick felt hot and throbbed. I wanted to touch it, enjoy its length and girth, and exploit its sensitivity but I didn't dare. I couldn't imagine what she would say if it was suddenly pumping out sperm. I couldn't think of what I'd say either. Instead, I sought to hide it, remove the temptation and not have to think about it.

I reached down and taking hold of my dick tried to put it back inside the shorts. It wouldn't bend, it was so hard the skin simply slid down along the shaft. My foreskin retracted and the head of my dick was fully exposed.

Thinking quickly, I undid the bobby pin and pulled the shorts down a little. With my curly, black pubic hair exposed I was able to get my throbbing dick inside. I pulled the shorts up and suddenly, as I was clicking the bobby pin, my dick managed to adjust its self. I felt the rasp of fabric as it suddenly dragged its head under the shorts and quivered as it escaped out of the other leg. I heard a little snort from her as she was trying not to laugh. I was determined not to look at her. I was so embarrassed. I felt a new flush of prickles race over my skin.

I tried to cover my dick with my hands. They were shaking so much it wasn't a good idea. My dick's head was purple and swollen. The throb was so pronounced it was actually bouncing. I heard the snort of another suppressed laugh. I pushed the shorts down again. I could feel her eyes on me.

I grabbed my dick firmly in my hand and pushed it under my shorts. The fabric of the shorts was rough against the tender skin. My dick was stretched up my belly, straining at the shorts and its head was poking out at the waist. I pulled the shorts up to cover and noticed my balls were hanging out at the bottom. I couldn't look at her. I knew she was laughing. She must have been.

I pulled the shorts down to cover my balls. and, once more, the head of my dick poked out above the waist of the shorts. I put my hands over it again so I could think. With my hands shaking and by dick bouncing it was all involuntary movement.

I thought I could make my dick sit diagonally under the shorts. I took it in my hand and began to move it. Perhaps it was a mistake. The sliding skin was difficult for my shaking hands to hold. The head was a very dark purple. I was determined. I pushed at my dick and suddenly I knew all was lost. I felt the trigger and the rush started. I wanted to stop it.

The wait wasn't long, perhaps two seconds. There was nothing I could do. It felt like a train rushing through me. If only the earth could open up. My dick suddenly sprayed a huge, white, liquid rope up my belly onto my chest. The back of my neck and ears were burning. Another spray followed. I heard her snort and the clap of her hands as a third rope added its self to the mess on my belly and chest.

She coughed, she was laughing, I could hear her. There was nothing I could do. All I wanted was to curl up and die. I was so embarrassed. My dick continued to pump its self out over me and finished with a dribble. I could feel her watching and she didn't miss any detail. I knew she could start laughing uncontrollably with very little provocation.

She handed me a serviette. I started mopping up. Five more serviettes she handed me before I was dry. I still couldn't look at her. My dick slowly shrank and eventually I was able to tuck it back inside the shorts.

Finally respectable I looked up at her, wondering what she was doing and thinking. She was sitting as though nothing had happened, her face seemed to be immobilized but her eyes moved, quickly taking in the surroundings and returning to the shorts. She threw the side of her dressing gown back over her leg and tidied the placement of it.

There was silence before she asked about my trimming hedges which helped me relax a little. I was honest and told her I'd been cutting them for two years. She asked whether I trimmed anything else and I wondered what she meant. I couldn't relax very much because while she was talking I felt I had to look at her.

I wasn't sure how I could look at her, the dressing gown had come apart at the front and I could see her chest, from her neck to the belt, between her breasts. Luckily they were covered. I wouldn't have known what to do if they weren't. I didn't want my dick to be making a repeat performance.

Soon there was nothing left to eat so I got up and after thanking her went back to work. While I was working, several times, I thought I could hear laughter coming from inside the house.