That Old House

"And now I owe you twice," I told her. "First for giving me this wonderful place to fix up, and now bringing this sexy, saucy wench into my home."

I guess she wasn't quite done teasing. "I'm just glad you were up to both tasks."

Karen rolled her eyes, "Keep it up, old woman, and I'll see what kind of meds I can slip you to give us a little privacy."

Bev heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Privacy? Again with the privacy? And I thought we were making progress."

Fortunately that was the end of the teasing, and we discussed what we could do with our last full day together. They were leaving the following morning, but I didn't really want to think about it.

We settled for a relaxing morning of doing nothing, followed by a picnic under our immense ancient oak.

After lunch, Bev confessed to being a little tired, and asked for a nap. We were only too happy to accommodate her.

Karen and I hadn't had more than a couple of moments alone all morning, and I desperately wanted to share some time with her. I loved the old woman, more than I thought possible in such a short time, but wouldn't mind spending a couple of hours away from her.

Karen put together a snack and grabbed a tote bag, while I did a little maintenance of the fireplaces. Then we headed out for a walk. She wanted to see the stream I'd mentioned. I warned her it might be a bit of a hike, and got a machete out of the trailer to deal with any overgrowth.

We chatted amiably, mostly about The House, what work I intended to do over the winter, and about old Bev. The walk was a bit strenuous, including climbing over and under logs, and cutting our way through the underbrush in a few places. Our conversation turned to both of our jobs before too long.

The stream wasn't that far away, we soon found out, not more than a couple of hundred yards from the hilltop. Easy enough to find, we just walked downhill until we hit it. We reached the water at a point where we had about a 5 foot drop. Looking up and down the bank from where we stood, it looked like there was a more open area a short ways downstream. We cut back into the woods, and worked our way downhill, towards the main road.

We spotted the opening, an incredibly huge tree dominating a space probably 100 feet across. We approached it in awed silence, the trunk easily as broad as the old oak by The House, and stretching to the sky. The smooth bark and incredible size made its identification easy. "Beech, largest I've ever seen," I informed my pretty companion.

"My God, it's gigantic!" she gushed.

I walked around the massive trunk, which forked into several secondary trunks, each as big as the enormous oak near The House. The trunk at its base must have been over 6 feet in diameter. There were numerous other beeches in the immediate area, but none half as large. There was an area 40 feet or more around the base of the tree, where almost nothing grew. I looked around more carefully, and recognized that the woods had changed dramatically, down near the stream. It was ancient, probably as old as our country. Maybe older. The floor was clear of growth except for thick moss and ferns, a fallen log nearly as tall as me stretching across the running stream. It was incredibly beautiful.

"Can you imagine how ancient this tree is? The things it's seen? It must be hundreds of years old."

"No kidding. I bet it's even older than Bev!" Karen laughed.

I was running my hand around the trunk, and stopped. "Come here, you've got to see this."

Karen hustled over and gasped when she saw where I was pointing. A huge heart had been carved into the tree, nearly two feet wide, with Don + Mary etched in its center. The carving was so old the letters had stretched until each was an inch wide, and had mostly healed over, making it difficult to read. I watched her reach out, her fingers tracing the heart's outline.

"I guess we're not the first ones to find this tree," she said softly.

"Sad," I murmured. "He must have loved her a lot. Built this beautiful home for her, and then never returned to it."

Karen nodded. "This is a beautiful place. The running water, the open space, the shade of the tree, the thick moss under foot. Like a fairy tale."

She was turning slowly, taking in the atmosphere of this magical locale. She faced me and smiled, slipping into my arms. "Thank you for this. I'll never, ever forget it."

I leaned down and kissed her, and let her pull me down to the forest floor. The moss underfoot was nature's softest pillow. Our kissing intensified, and my hands explored her wonderful body.

"Make love to me, Jack. Here, in this cathedral." She sat up and slid her shirt off, then reached back and undid her bra.

I took off my shirt and placed it on the ground, moving her onto it. She giggled, pulling out of my hands, and pulling a blanket out of her tote bag. She passed it to me, and we stretched it out on the bed of moss. We each continued disrobing until we were naked in each other's arms again.

She chuckled.

"What?" I asked, smiling at her joyfulness.

"We've got an audience," she said, pointing.

About 10 feet away, a large black squirrel was perched on its hind legs, watching us.

"He's going to get a show," I teased.

She rolled onto her back, opening her legs for me. "Promise?"

I moved over her, ready. "Absolutely." I rubbed my stiffness against her, pressing between her moist lips. I could hear her wetness. She was more than ready.

It was beautiful, making love to her in the open air, feeling the breeze against our bodies, hearing nature all around us. The moss was incredible, so soft underneath us, making the experience dreamlike. The sound of the running water was a comforting constant in the background.

I felt strong and refreshed. The feeling of being inside her was amazing. I was pumping her easily, long firm strokes, no urge to hurry, no need for completion. The simple act was all I needed. I looked into her eyes, studying her, watching the emotions flutter across her face. She was getting excited, her breath coming faster, her hips driving back against me.

I kissed her softly, and was surprised by her passionate response. I picked up the pace, moving faster, taking her, claiming her, Mother Nature our sole witness.

She whimpered softly, pulling me down and hugging me tightly. I fucked her faster, harder, more desperately.

"Oh God, oh God, oh GOD!" she moaned loudly, her whole body tensing underneath me.

Her orgasm excited me to no end, and I sought my own release, moving my hips, searching out just the right friction and angle to enhance the feeling. When I found it, I started a nice motion, long strokes finishing deep inside of her, pulling out to the very edge of her warm treasure. "You're incredible," I told her softly.

"Jack, Jack," she gasped, arching underneath me, "soooo good," she groaned.

I was getting close, moving faster, spreading my knees wider, driving with my hips. "Fuck," I groaned. "Incredible."

She cried out loudly, coming for me again, and the experience pushed me over the edge. I slammed into her, making her scream for me. I came hard, pounding out rope after rope deep inside of her.

We lay in each other's arms, catching our breath, and reveling in the afterglow.

I gave her a kiss, and got up, slowly dressing. I enjoyed watching her cover up her body, getting those last few glimpses of her nakedness as she hid it away. I passed her the blanket, and pushed the moss back into place, where my actions had left dents and divots.

"Whatcha doin'?" she asked.

"Making the bed," I told her, earning a chuckle.

We walked back hand-in-hand, quietly. I helped her over logs, and through the brush, while we slowly started chatting again.

"It's all so unbelievable, surreal," she said, as we saw the edge of the forest at the top of the hill.

I laughed. "You're getting the bug. It's been eating away at me for 5 years."

"I can see how. This place is addicting."

I don't know what came over me, but I didn't want it to end. "If you need a fix over the holidays, the door is always open."

She hesitated, her hand clutching mine. "You'll be too busy," she whispered.

"Not for you. Consider it, please."

"I'll think about it," she said shyly. She turned and gave me another quick kiss, before we broke out into the open.

The evening was quiet, with a simple steak and baked potato dinner prepared on the outdoor Weber grill by yours truly. We moved out to the porch, and talked long into the night.

"What are you doing for Christmas, Bev?" I asked.

"Ham, with a house full of old farts, unless I have a better offer," she giggled. She was sipping on her second glass of wine, and I think she was already smashed.

"I get off from Christmas through New Year. I'd love the company."

"I was only teasing. I couldn't stand to interfere with your work," she said.

"Actually, I could still get a lot done, if you didn't mind. And still take Christmas and New Years off," I assured her.

"No promises, but I'll give it some thought." Bev answered. "I think I'd better call it a night. It's getting late."

I got up to give her a kiss goodnight. Karen prepared her for bed, while I closed The House down for the night.

* * *

After our afternoon dalliance, I wasn't sure if Karen would be up for some more fun, but she showed up in my room while I was still working at the fireplace.

We were more playful, exploring each other's bodies, teasing and exciting each other until the urge to go further overwhelmed me. Our lovemaking was different, more urgent, more demanding on my part. We tried a variety of positions, and I prolonged the act as long as I was physically able, taking breaks whenever I got too worked up, alternating between the use of my mouth, my hands, and my needful cock. After seeing how sexy she was climaxing, down by the stream, I was determined to have her come for me again, successfully, a few times.

I wasn't inexperienced, not by any means, but making love to Karen was different than anything I'd experienced, in a wonderful way. We meshed together perfectly, and when I could hold back no longer, I was completely satisfied, and enjoyed the feeling of my release within her.

We were both utterly exhausted, and she fell asleep in my arms, with me drifting off soon after.

During the night, I partially awoke again to that incredible feeling between my legs. I sighed peacefully, accepting her generous gift, moaning softly for her. I allowed her to get me off, remarkably quickly given the circumstances. I gave her my seed, and rolled over to take her in my arms, cuddling close for warmth in the cool room.

* * *

I was sorry to see them go, after such a short visit, and told them so.

"Please say you'll come back soon," I told Bev, with a hug at the airport. "If not at Christmas, then before the spring. I miss you already."

Bev cackled. "I know what you're missing already. And as much as I'd like to help you with that, I suspect I'd break a hip or worse." She reached up and gave me a kiss. "Thanks for sharing this. It's wonderful. Really."

I gave Karen a more intimate hug. "Come back soon."

She smiled, and squeezed me tightly. "I'll do what I can. These last few days have been nothing short of amazing. You're a hell of a man, Jack."

I kissed her, letting it prolong. "You're quite a woman yourself, Karen. I feel so spoiled and refreshed, and can't wait to get started on the second level."

"Stay in touch. I left my number on the kitchen table."

"Too late," I teased. "Already got it from Bev. You'll be hearing from me."

"Looking forward to it."

I hated to see them go, but I was aching to get back to work on that old house, to get her in better shape for their return.

* * *

That day was spent working on laying out the walls on the second floor, integrating the large vertical posts. I was originally going to lay it out much like the first floor and original design, with a large central hall and stairway, opening into four rooms on each side. I was still astounded by the pure size of the place, wondering how much space a single family needed. I remembered that back in the day, large families were not uncommon and servants might be housed as well. A spur of the moment decision had me changing things, creating only four spacious bedrooms, each essentially a suite.

With the first and second floors completed, I would have 4 huge bedrooms, each with its own full bath, on the second floor, with a kitchen, living room, dining room, study, bath and pantry on the first. I was thinking of leaving the third floor with a completely open layout, since it was unlikely I'd need to use it at all.

Which was good. The 3rd floor creeped me out.

It was drafty, the ceiling was lower, and the fact that the original occupant had leaped to her death from there wasn't helping. Plus, after my couple of close calls while working, I wasn't all that keen on spending any more time there than needed.

I did want to put in the windows on the second and third floors, but I was going to have to take my time on that until the funds improved. The House had 5 windows in front, two on each side, and three more in back. Twelve windows on the second floor. The third floor had 5 in front but only 1 on each side, and two in back. At over $240 a pop, I had enough money left to complete the second floor windows, but it would leave me nearly broke. I decided to just do the front, for the aesthetics, and one on each side. I'd leave the other five until my cash-flow was better. There was a lot of interior woodwork I could do in the meantime.

Between the trip to the airport, morning goodbyes, and closing off Bev's bedroom, I didn't get a lot done, but I was still feeling pretty good that I had a plan.

Dinner was lonely, and I wasn't up to making anything fancy, so I scavenged sandwich fixings out of my depleted food stock, and called it a day early.

I'd come to enjoy the late night porch drink and smoke, and indulged once more. A single malt and cigar was a nice way to end the day, and I told myself I'd have to put in a stock of both.

I felt a little better after receiving the call from Bev. They'd made it back in one piece.

"I had to call," Bev explained. "I know I said I wouldn't, but I had to tell you. The last few days with you were the best I've spent in decades. Thank you, Jack."

"Bev, I feel exactly the same. I love this place, love working on it. For the first time ever, there's something wrong. It feels empty. I miss you already."

She giggled. I loved that giggle. It seemed to strip away the years. "I know what you're missing, young man."

"Tease all you want, crazy woman. You know the truth as well as I do. I miss my partner, my friend, my adopted Mom."

"I miss you too, Sweetie," she said softly. "I can't thank you enough."

"You're coming for Christmas, right?"

"I told you I'd think about it."

"You had half a day. Don't make me go down there and kidnap you."

"Fine. You're mean, to twist an old woman's arm like this. Can I bring Karen again?"

"You better. Unless you're planning on doing all the cooking."

"Right. I'm sure that's the reason."

"You're a terrible tease, aren't you Mom?"

"You're just figuring that out? It's not like I have much else to do these days. You wanna talk to her? She's standing right here, trying to act all cool and collected. Think I should make her wait any longer?"

"Let's make her sweat," I teased. "You know I'd rather talk to you than anyone else."

"Who's teasing now? Love you, Jack. I'm putting her on."

"Love you too," I said quickly.

"Love me? You barely know me! This is so sudden," Karen said softly.

Shit. Oh shit. "Uhh," I started.

"I'm kidding, Jack. Don't have a cow. I'll let her know what you said. Ol' cranky puss is in rare form. Flying makes her grouchy."

"You keep saying that. I don't see it."

"You're a guy. She's sweet on the guys. One guy in particular it seems. Can't say I blame her."

"I miss you already. You're coming back for Christmas with her, right?"

"Is that what she meant by twisting her arm? You talked her into it?" She sounded pleased.

"Seems so. You wouldn't be mean enough to send her alone, would you?"

Karen laughed. "If you're inviting, I'm there. I'm no fool." She stopped her giggling. "I miss you too. God, it's like I've known you for years, not a few days."

We chatted for a few more minutes before she begged off. "I really do need to take care of Bev. These long trips are hard on her. Thanks for calling. Think of me."

"Non-stop, I expect. Take good care of her."

"Of course. I owe her big time."

Going to bed I reviewed my plans for the upcoming week. Unfortunately my job still beckoned, but I should still get in plenty of work time each evening, four to five hours at least.

My bed was lonely. I missed Karen. I found myself stroking an erection, almost laughing. I didn't masturbate more than a couple of times a week, often less, but the recent spate of sexual escapades had me hard as a rock, without my new playmate to take care of things.

The room was warm from the heat of the fireplace. I pulled the covers aside, and closed my eyes, remembering. I could almost feel her stroking me, sliding her warm mouth over my cock. The feeling was incredible, tingling, setting my nerves on fire.

I looked down at my hardness, standing tall, basking in the feeling running up and down my shaft. I grabbed the second pillow, putting it behind my head, propping myself up. I was getting close, so close.

With a gasp I bolted upright. I was being stroked, but it wasn't me.

It wasn't anybody. I was alone in bed, but I had felt it, a smooth soft movement up and down my length. I looked around, doubting my own senses.

Then it started again. A tingling feeling, that set the hair on my legs to standing on end. A soft movement, up and down my rod. It wasn't a stray breeze, or some other oddity. It was clearly a stroking. I gazed down between my legs. I didn't see anything at first, then I noticed the skin on my shaft was shifting up and down with the movement.

Was I crazy? Was I dreaming? What the hell was going on!

The feeling was intense, and I felt a new pressure on the head, enclosing it. Without warning, I felt the urge to come burst upon me, and I groaned as I exploded. It was powerful, and my hips bucked against the invisible force, spasm after spasm of pleasure emptying me. Yet when it was over, I looked down at my wilting cock to see it was dry and clean. No evidence of what had just happened.

I didn't believe in ghosts, or spirits, or succubi, or any other supernatural visitor, but my brain was short-circuiting, and I had no explanation for what had just happened.

Suddenly I was clammy, cold. I pulled the covers up and huddled underneath them.

It took me forever to get to sleep.

* * *

I was useless at work the next day, my mind still in a fog. It must have been my imagination, or a very real dream. I managed to answer a few calls, and avoid any serious snafus. I was glad when the end of the work day rolled around.

I delayed going home, stopping by the hardware store and ordering the windows, then hitting the grocery store to restock. I even splurged at the local Wendy's. By the time I finally got to The House, I had convinced myself that it had been my imagination.

An imagination that was running amok.

I found myself imagining things, touches to my hair, something brushing against my hip. I was normally pretty quiet when on my own, but I was talking to The House, asking if anybody was there. What did they want? What was going on?

At least moving some wood and tools up to the second floor distracted me for a while, and I worked later than I would normally during the week. I still opted for a scotch on the porch, nervous about going to bed. I made it a double.