Please excuse what is obvious - that I am not a professional writer. Also, there is probably not the explicit verbiage you may be used to seeing here. But, following is my best attempt at conveying a special summer in my life.
Childhood Friends
Part 1
Funny how things happen. After some substantial financial setbacks, my husband, Brian, and I ended up living back in the Midwest, in the old farm home where I had grown up. It was quite a step down from the gulf-front home we had lived in previously, but we had managed to make it as homey as we could.
Brian had finally found work, but it required him to travel through the week most of the time. I had not yet found another job, so kept myself busy working in the yard and repairing the old house.
On this hot and humid 92 degree summer day, I was mowing our two acres of grass. After about 20 minutes I stopped and changed from my shorts and t-shirt into a two piece swim suit – my rather skimpy "sunning bikini" as I called it in more leisure times of the past when working on my tan on the beach. But I guess it's just as easy working on a tan while mowing grass. There were so few cars coming down this deserted road we lived on that I could have probably gone naked and no one would have seen me.
Mowing in the front yard, I saw a truck that I recognized coming slowly down the road – Billy Scott who I had gone to school with. Actually, I knew Billy even before first grade, as his family was friends with ours, so we had known each other for almost 30 years.
Billy always pulled to the side of the road to chat whenever he saw Brian or I working in the yard. This time however, he kind of rolled to a stop at an angle in the yard. I drove the mower over to where he was and shut it off.
"Billy, what's up?"
"Hi Emma. I was hoping this old battery would last until I got home to put the new one in, but I didn't make it. Do you suppose you could run me down to the house and back here so I can pick up the new battery and put it in?"
"Sure, just let me go grab my keys and a couple of bottles of water - meet my at my truck." And I headed to the house, realizing half way there that he was watching my near-nude butt walking away. Inside the house I decided I had better put some pants on, so I slipped on a pair of cutoff shorts, picked up my keys and some water and headed to my beat up old pickup, where Billy was waiting.
"You know Emma, you didn't have to put those shorts on. The view was just fine" he said with his easy grin. I just laughed and smiled, saying "don't be silly." Actually, he had always made me a little nervous, not really caring if his eyes openly roamed over you while chatting.
Billy was always that quiet guy in school that blended into the background. Until there was a fight, then he always seemed to be in the middle of it, and he always won. Even though he was well over 6' 4" tall and 240 pounds, he was never interested in sports, or any other school activities. If anything, he was even bigger now. On the other hand, I was in about every activity and club possible. And although we had virtually nothing in common, we had remained friends. Until we moved back to this house a year ago, I had not seen him for over 20 years. Glancing at him, he was wearing what seemed to be his usual clothes, a worn out pocket t-shirt with holes in it, a size too small, which I had noticed before accented his rather large muscles. And a package of cigarettes in the pocket. And a pair of jeans, also with a lot of holes. And I have to admit, you could usually see the outline of his, umm, penis laying against his left leg. That confirmed another rumor from those school days......
It was about a 15 minute drive to Billy's house. He was not shy about his eyes roaming over my body while he commented, "with all that running you've really kept yourself in good shape Emma." There were no gyms out where we lived, and no money for a membership even if there was, so running was about my only workout, managing about 20 to 30 miles a week.
Pulling into his drive I noticed for the first time a sign that simply read "Wood Shop".
"I didn't realize that you enjoyed wood working Billy."
"Actually, this is my full-time business now. I gave up construction work several years ago. Come on in and I'll show you what I do."
The furniture was quite interesting. I'm not sure how to describe it – very rustic, kind of Appalachian themed. I had never seen anything of this style, and we spent the next 30 minutes looking at various pieces as he explained how they were built. Then, having run out of things to say, there was an uneasy silence as we looked at each other.
I knew then that Billy was going to fuck me.
Pushing me against a wall, his mouth came down on mine. I tasted cigarettes on his tongue, could smell his sweat from this hot day. Both hands were on my breasts as he ripped the bikini top away, breaking the snap. His hands were very rough and calloused from years of hard work, and he rolled my nipples with his fingers.
"No Billy, stop it."
And he kissed me harder, his tongue probing inside my mouth, while one hand slid down my stomach, then between my legs as he cupped my pussy through my shorts, rubbing it while I wriggled under his touch, trying to get away.
"Billy, don't do this."
But trying to push him away was like trying to move a mountain.
"We have to stop this Billy" and I started to move towards the door. But he grabbed me around my waist, picked me up like I was a feather and tossed me on a sofa.
Stepping back, he pulled his shirt over his head, kicked his shoes off and pulled his jeans off. Then taking his shorts off, I could see for myself what the boys joked about when we were in high school – oh my gosh!
Standing me back up, he unzipped my shorts and slid them down my legs and off of me. Grabbing my thong on each side, he pulled and ripped it off. Kissing me again, his cock pressed against my stomach. Then without a word he turned me around and leaned me over a work table.
Moving his hand down me pushed my legs apart and began running his hand over my pussy, making me wet against my will. Unexpectedly he slid a rough finger inside of me, and I was embarrassed thinking "it feels like Brian's cock in me." Struggling to get up was useless – he was too strong and large.
"Please Billy, I'm begging you to stop."
Suddenly he stepped back, and for a moment I thought he was going to let me go. But then he flipped me on my back, pulling my hips to the edge of the table. Looking down at him I could see how enormous his now fully hard cock was.
"Billy, you can't."
"Think back to when we were were teenagers Emma, working on the farm. You always managed to cut off your jeans too short to leave much to the imagination. And those crop top t-shirts, you never wearing a bra, working on the hay wagon, and you so wet with sweat so that your nipples showed."
Think back to Sunday School, when I was always in trouble for not paying attention – usually because I was looking at your legs in those short skirts, looking at your thighs every time you crossed your legs."
"Think back to high school Emma, your cute cheerleader outfits, wiggling your hips. And me, all I wanted was you. Look at me Emma, look in my eyes as I finally fuck you. And you can wiggle those hips all you want to now."
