This is a complete story.
It's a story about a man named Red Foster, an aging farmer who took an innocent trip out behind the barn one day and found that his life was forever changed.
...
Chapter One: What Red saw.
All I was looking for on that fateful day was a chunk of wood, and because I vaguely remembered seeing a decent sized chunk of an old and warped 2X4 behind the barn, that was what brought me back there on that sunny July day.
As it turned out, I guess my memory isn't what it used to be, because as it turned out the wood wasn't back there after all. Maybe I had used it long ago - who knows? The way I seem to forget things these days, I might have been imagining seeing the damn wood in the first place. I guess that sort of thing comes when you approach 60.
My mind may be slipping, and sometimes there's a little hitch in my giddy-up, but there's nothing wrong with my eyes, and when I reached the back corner of the barn and started to turn, I saw more than I had expected to.
Kelly - our granddaughter who has been spending summers with us every year since her father took off on her mother and left her behind - was back there, and she wasn't alone. Frank Balfe's boy Patrick was with her.
I had seen Kelly with the boy earlier in the week, just talking out by the mailbox, and I hadn't thought much about it at the time. The next day I had caught the two kissing out in Kelly's garden. It was just two teenagers being sweet on each other, and being out here in the sticks in Voorheesville, New York, there wasn't much for young folks to do.
What they were doing behind the barn though, wasn't holding hands or sharing an innocent kiss, and when I saw them I stood there in shock, holding my hammer at my side at staring in disbelief.
My granddaughter Kelly - such a sweet and innocent things, was on her knees in front of the Balfe boy. She was fully dressed, but Patrick wasn't. His jeans and underwear were bunched up around his knees, and although I was standing about ten feet behind the boy's right shoulder, I knew what Kelly was doing.
Kelly's hands were cupping the boy's bony little rump, her fingers digging into the flesh as she pulled Patrick towards her, and Patrick was holding Kelly's head in his hands. His fingers were running through her curly red hair, and as I watched her face moving it was obvious what Kelly was doing to the lad.
Kelly was sucking Patrick's cock, and he wasn't forcing her to do it either. Judging by the way Kelly was doing it, it wasn't the first time she had done it, because she was practically inhaling the young man with an enthusiasm that left me dumbstruck.
Suddenly Patrick's knees bent a little and he let out a moan which left no doubt as to what was happening. He was having himself an orgasm, and he was having it right in my granddaughter's mouth. Furthermore, Kelly didn't even blink but seemed to be swallowing his spunk like it was a sweet nectar.
It was then that Kelly, after looking up at her young lover with a mischievous grin, happened to catch sight of me standing there gawking at them. Her shocked reaction got Patrick's attention, and when he turned and saw me there, he went crazy.
Maybe it was the sight of me standing there, a bald old guy with a hammer in his hand, that got him moving, but whatever it was, Patrick took off. Running at a speed that would have been impressive even if he wasn't still pulling up his pants in the process, he made it to the field in seconds flat and didn't look back, probably fearing I was hot on his heels.
Heck, my running days are long over, and besides, I was still standing there like I had grown roots. Kelly was still on her knees, her face a deep crimson, and I'm sure I was blushing too. I mumbled an apology and went back to the house, trying to look normal as I entered the kitchen.
"Good lord, Red," Edna clucked as I went past her on my way to the bathroom. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."
"Hot one out there today," I mumbled in passing, ignoring her telling me to take it easy and hid in the bathroom for a few minutes until my head stopped spinning.
The rest of the afternoon was spent doing something, but I have no recollection of what it was it did because my mind wasn't into anything but that image of the two young folks behind the barn.
I admit to feeling rage for a time right after seeing them, thinking of that kid taking advantage of my little baby, but the more I thought about it the more I realized how wrong I was.
Kelly wasn't the giggling girl in pigtails bouncing on my knee any longer. She was going to college come fall, and that Balfe kid was probably a year older. Hell, by his age I was up at Fort Drum running obstacle courses by day and trying to get as many of the local girls in Watertown to do to me precisely what Kelly was doing to Patrick.
They weren't kids. They were adults, and it was my problem that I still saw Kelly as a child. They had been sharing a beautiful moment and I ruined it. Just because my sex life was in the dumper was no reason to spoil things for others, even if my intrusion had been accidental.
***
Chapter Two: Seeing Kelly.
Dinner was an awkward affair, with Edna acting as giddy as she always did, and poor Kelly looking around like the Sword of Damocles was hanging over her head for much of the meal. Maybe she feared that I had run in and told her grandmother about what I had seen, but when she figured out that Edna was as clueless as ever she seemed to relax.
It was over the course of dinner that I looked at Kelly for the first time. The changes had come so slowly over so many years, that I hadn't really noticed what a beautiful young woman she had become, at least in my way of thinking. Oh, I knew that she was no beauty queen, but she was a cutie for sure.
Those green eyes that seemed to sparkle constantly, and her flaming red hair that always made me think of Maureen O'Hara in The Quiet Man, were a dazzling combination. The freckles scattered around her face were adorable as well, and when I looked at that face I knew that if I was Patrick I would have been in heaven earlier as well.
Even Kelly's body seemed different now, or maybe that was just because I was seeing her in a different light. Kelly wasn't one for dressing provocatively like a lot of girls her age seem to do, usually wearing simple blouses that were tasteful and smart looking, but maybe that was for our benefit here.
Who knows? Maybe when she was back home she wore next to nothing and flaunted everything she had. At around 120 pounds on her 5'2" frame, she wasn't voluptuous but there were definitely a pair of breasts under that red and white checked top, and a firm butt in those jeans of hers.
"What?" I said with a start, just realizing that Edna had been yakking at me while I daydreamed, and after I answered her mundane question I tried to get my head out of my butt.
I had been sitting there mentally undressing my granddaughter. Where in the world did that come from? I suspect that it was because of what I had seen before, and the sick truth was that whenever I thought about seeing Kelly like that, I would get an erection.
Not just one of those semi-boners that I would get on occasion, mind you, but full blown erections that were very obvious in my Dickies. I already had more hard-ons that afternoon than I had in the last five years combined.
Not that an erection is anything to be depressed about, because at my age it is surely a welcome sight. What bothered me was why I was getting them, and it was enough of a concern that I was planning to go into town and pay Father Bryant a visit that next day, to see if I could sort this out without telling the guy too much.
After all, I'm not sure how I would ever be able to tell somebody that I was getting aroused by thinking of my granddaughter being on her knees in front of me, and doing the same things to my cock as she had done to her boyfriend's.
***
Chapter Three: Plain talk.