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A story about a shy virgin and how he spent his 18th summer. Please note that the story involves a certain degree of good-natured domination by a woman over a shy young man.
My kid sister made a face, sticking her tongue out after my mother turned her back, and if Mom wasn’t within earshot she would have given me one of those ha-has that annoyed the hell out of me. Cathy had good reason to gloat though, because she had managed to weasel out of something that I was getting stuck doing.
That was the way it always seemed to be, since Cathy was the the baby of the family. Being the older kid, it seemed like I never got away with stuff. That was the way it was when I was 8 and she was 5, and now that I was 18 and Cathy was 15, it was still the same.
Mom had volunteered our services to a friend of hers who was planning to clear the field around her house. According to Mom, the woman was going to use the land to start doing some farming and build a stone fence of some kind with all the rocks that seemed to little the landscape of our sleepy little hamlet in the Southern Adirondacks.
Just was the world needed, I thought when Mom explained this. Another farm stand on the side of the road with zucchini you couldn’t give way, I did my best to back out of it but failed. By not being able to find a summer job to fill the summer before college started in the fall, I had no good excuse to offer when Mom sentenced me to the task.
Cathy didn’t either, because I knew that the reason she gave was bogus. “My back hurts,” was Cathy’s out for everything, and while maybe it did, it was probably because her tits were so big that the weight of them caused her back to allegedly bother her.
“Miss Couse gives me the creeps,” Cathy confided to me afterward after she got done gloating about her victory. “She’s always staring at me. Ew!”
Miss Couse stared at all the girls at school, or so the stories went. She was the school nurse and if there was a dictionary with the word lesbian in it, chances are her picture would be there next to it. There wasn’t much feminine about her, from her short haircut to her short and squat body, she looked the part and had the reputation to go along with it.
Probably just talk, I figured, when it came to the stories that had gone around about Miss Couse, whose nickname “Bulldog” gives you an idea of her facial characteristics. If she ever did do anything with a girl at school she would have gotten canned or arrested, so I guessed that it was just people ragging on somebody who was a little different.
I probably had joined in on the snickering myself from time to time, but in reality Miss Couse interested me in some strange way. Beyond the usual fascination a lot of guys have about lesbians, I found her mannish and androgynous look attractive in some kinky way, although I would never admit that to anybody.
Miss Couse was about my mother’s age, which would put her near 50, and was about 5’6″. She didn’t seem to have much of a body, but she did have decent legs. I had noticed that through many glimpses of Miss Couse in her uniform, seeing those muscular but shapely calves as she walked briskly down the halls at school. NOT hairy calves, as many guys suggested.
So it was that I got sent over to Brown Tract Road to the little house that Miss Couse called home. Like many of the places in our rural area, Miss Couse’s place had seen better days, but to me hers looked pretty well kept as my mother drove me there that Thursday afternoon in late June.
“Now Andy,” Mom said as she pulled up to the house. “Please don’t do anything that would…”
“Ma,” I whined.
“Well sometimes you get this attitude,” Mom explained, dutifully playing the part of both Mom and Dad since the old man had bailed on us a few years back. “I just don’t want Meg to…”
“I won’t do anything to embarrass you, me, or anything else,” I assured her, although that was the first time I had heard Miss Couse’s first name.
I guess Mom knew Miss Couse because my mother was a nurse too, having worked at the local hospital most of her life and so she thought I would do or say something to humiliate her in her colleague’s eyes. Mom decided to walk up to the house with me, which made me feel even more like a kid than usual.
“Audrey!” Miss Couse said as we neared the door, and I admit to getting a little turned on when Miss Couse hugged my mother, as sick as that sounds. I wondered whether Mom knew her friend was a lesbian, not that I knew for sure myself, but when they hugged my teenage imagination ran wild.
Miss Couse had her hair cut even shorter than usual, and her black hair was almost like a crew cut. She was wearing a baggy t-shirt and denim shorts, so while I wasn’t going to get much of a view of the rest of Miss Couse, at least I would get to see those muscular legs.
“Where’s your little girl?” Miss Couse asked when she saw that I was the only help she was going to get.
“Cathy – her back has been canlı bahis giving her problems,” Mom explained, and I wondered how Mom could have missed the disappointment in her friend’s face when she heard that.
“Oh, that’s a shame,” Miss Couse said. “You know Audrey, you should have her come over so I could work on her.”
“That’s right,” Mom said. “I forgot you’re a massage therapist. That might be a good idea.”
“Well, I guess that I’ll have to get Andy here to work twice as hard to make up for not having your daughter here,” Miss Couse said. “You up to that Andy?”
“I guess so,” I mumbled, and then Mom was off to work.
“I’ll bring him home for you,” Miss Couse said. “Might be a little late though because that’s a lot of land.”
“Fine Meg,” Mom said. “If you need him for more than today that’s fine too because otherwise Andy would just be sitting around the house doing nothing.”
I didn’t see anything wrong with that, but having to spend more than one day here was going to be incentive enough to bust my ass to get done whatever old lady Couse wanted done.
“Come on in and have a cup of coffee, Andy,” Miss Couse said as Mom drove off, wrapping her arm around my shoulder and herding me inside. “It’s supposed to be a scorcher today.”
“I’m only going to use about an acre or so to start next spring,” Miss Couse said as she gestured toward the woods out back and to the west. “I’m going to clear the whole field all now and then gradually expand the planting every year, or at least that’s my plan.
I nodded while looking closely at Miss Couse, and as she waved and pointed I noticed a couple of things that interested me a lot. Miss Couse had muscular arms. I noticed that while looking up her sleeve she had bigger biceps than I did.
The other thing I noticed was that Miss Couse had hairy armpits. Not just a little stubble like my Mom and sister did if they didn’t shave for a few days, and not a little wisp of hair like I did. Even peeking down the darkened sleeve I could see that Miss Couse even had more hair under her arms than any guy I had even seen.
Ever since I found that magazine up in our attic a few years ago, the sight of a woman with hair under her arms had always excited me. The magazine, one of the few things my old man left behind when he took off a few years ago, was full of color pictures of all these girls – French and Italian it seemed – and all were unshaven. You didn’t see that much around here, that was for sure, and I knew that because I looked whenever the opportunity presented itself.
I think Miss Couse caught me looking down her sleeve, judging by the look she gave me, but she didn’t say anything and obviously wasn’t offended or self conscious about it either, since she took the t-shirt off later as the temperature rose.
She had a tank top underneath, one of those wife-beater things, and was also wearing a bra even though she didn’t look like she really needed one. This was a distraction, because this allowed me to not only get frequent glimpses of her armpit hair, but non-stop views of her muscular arms and shoulders as she worked, and while she wasn’t a large woman by any means, Miss Couse had a whole lot more muscles than the average woman.
More than I did too, which was why I resisted at first when she suggested I take off my shirt after she removed hers. Only after the shirt was dripping with sweat did I take it off, but I was really self-conscious about how skinny and weak I looked compared to Miss Couse, and I made a vow that I would start working out once college started.
It was tough work, picking up all of the rocks and stones, putting them into the wheelbarrow and walking the wheelbarrow out to the side of the house and dumping it, and then there was all of the other stuff that was out there. Bottles and cans, chunks of wood and metal, and all sorts of crap that had accumulated over time, and that junk got hauled out to the side of the road.
Eight hours later, we had only gotten about 2/3 of the field cleared, and that was with us working pretty much non-stop. I worked hard too, because Miss Couse was busting her butt too and I wasn’t going to let a woman almost 3 times my age show me up.
We only took a couple of breaks to speak of. One was for lunch, and Miss Couse delighted me when along with a sandwich she gave me a choice of beverage.
“Pepsi or beer?” she said as she looked in the refrigerator, and I guess I must have looked shocked because I didn’t answer right away.
“You work like a man, don’t you?” she said, so I eagerly accepted the offer of a Genesee Cream Ale, and while it wasn’t the first beer I ever had it was the first one I drank without feeling like a sneak. “Might as well treat you like one. Just don’t tell your mother.”
She said that with a wink, and I had to admit that Miss Couse wasn’t all that bad. She always had looked stern but I had learned she had a sense of humor. She cursed when she would hurt herself bahis siteleri and told a couple of off-color jokes too.
The other break we took was soon after we taken off our shirts. Miss Couse had gone into the house, and when she emerged she was carrying a bottle of suntan lotion.
“Can’t have you getting burned,” she had, and she took off her work gloves and moved behind me. “Always be careful about getting too much sun.”
The cool lotion she put on my back was refreshing, but that wasn’t the reason I got a hard on. That was due to feeling Miss Couse’s strong hand rubbing the lotion into my back and shoulders, even coming around to coat my scrawny smooth chest.
“Would you mind, Andy?” Miss Couse said, holding out the bottle with her right hand and reaching up and back behind her with her left while saying “Can’t reach.”
I dropped the bottle, partly because it was slippery but mostly because I had been startled when she had reached back like that, the action not only making her bicep bulge but exposing her armpit to me like that. It was like she knew the sight of those hairy hollows excited me, because not only wasn’t she embarrassed about them, she wasn’t shy about letting me see them either.
“Don’t worry about getting it on the shirt,” Miss Couse said as I squirted some of the lotion into my hand, which was trembling as I gingerly touched her shoulder. “And I won’t break either.”
I started rubbing the lotion into her with a little more force, and while her skin was soft the muscles were hard underneath. I had never touched a man like this, and if it wasn’t for the bra straps visible through her damp tank-top it would have been easy to think this wasn’t a woman in front of me.
I even got the nerve to rub lotion on her arms too as I stood behind her, and after I was done I had to walk around carefully so Miss Couse didn’t see the bulge in my shorts. If the guys could ever have seen me at that moment, getting a boner over seeing and touching Miss Couse. I could never live that down.
It was around 4, and it was clear that we weren’t going to get done. The massive pile of rocks on the side of the house and the junk out by the road was a testimony to how much we had gotten done though.
“Had enough for today Andy?” Miss Couse said as she took off her gloves and wiped her brow with the back of my hand, and I thought a little smile appeared at the corner of her mouth when she saw me staring at what she seemed to delight in showing me. “Bet you’re as tired as I am. Why don’t you put the shovel and wheelbarrow away while I go clean up.”
As I watched Miss Couse walk toward the house, her calves rippling with every stride, I couldn’t wait to get home. The first thing I was going to do was to jump into the shower and stand there until the water washed away the soreness that went from head to toe. I was a mess, with dirt everywhere except the parts of me that my shorts and socks covered, and I had a few scratches and scrapes besides.
I knew what I would do while I was in the shower too. I was going to jerk off, and maybe more than once. I had gotten so many erections during the day that my balls were aching, and my underwear were soggy from more than sweat too, because I suspect my dick had been drooling all day too.
Wonder how many guys had ever gotten hard over Miss Couse, I wondered as I put the stuff away. Not many, I suspected, but then again I was a bit weird anyway.
When I got inside I could hear the shower on in the bathroom, and then Miss Couse peeked her head out the door and told me to help myself to a drink. I took that as an invitation to grab another of those Genny Cream Ales, which weren’t bad at all.
I sat down and sipped the brew while imagining I was in the shower with Miss Couse, getting to soap her up and see what her tits looked like. They looked small, but that was fine with me. I was betting that she had a hairy pussy too, judging by how much hair she had under her arms.
The only pussy I had ever seen in real life, and touched for a few glorious minutes before she got cold feet and stopped me belonged to Vicki Praga, and that was pretty hairy, but I was betting that Miss Couse’s was hairier than that.
As the shower kept going, I went down the hall to take an innocent stroll. Actually not all that innocent, because I checked to see whether there was a keyhole or you could see though the crack of the door. No luck, so I went back to the kitchen and back to daydreaming about Miss Couse.
Maybe she was doing what I was doing, imagining me being in the shower with her, and when that thought crossed my mind I chuckled, because that was bullshit. Nobody had ever thought things like that about me, and if they had the did a good job of hiding their feelings.
I was debating whether or not to tell my sister that Miss Couse had mentioned her a couple of times, but then again she had asked about how Mom was and whether she had been seeing anybody lately. Hell, she also asked bahis şirketleri whether I had a girlfriend so maybe I was just reading more into this than was there. Miss Couse might just be a lonely old spinster who wasn’t anything like the guys and my fantasies had imagined her to be.
“There. Much better,” Miss Couse declared after she emerged from the bathroom, wearing a blue robe and a towel around her hair, which was so short it probably took 5 seconds to dry. “Your turn.”
“Take your shower,” she said, and when I protested she turned into the school nurse for a moment. “I’m certainly not going to take you home looking like that. You’re a mess.”
The next thing I knew, I was standing in the steamy bathroom, getting undressed. It didn’t take long, since all I had on were socks, which were white when I arrived with were all sooty now, equally filthy shorts and underwear than had a massive stain of dried pre-cum in them.
It took me a minute to adjust the temperature of the water, but after I got it right I hopped in. It wasn’t long before I had washed the filth off of me, and as I looked at the stuff in the shower caddy I started to stroke my cock.
Prell shampoo. Dial soap. Barbasol shave cream and a yellow disposable razor – had to be for her legs I figured, and as I tried to figure out what was in this other bottle, the bathroom door opened.
“Miss Couse?” I said, my voice quivering.
“There’s towels and a fresh robe here Andy,” she said from the other side of the curtain. “I’ve got your t-shirt from outside too so I’ll wash all these things for you.”
Then she was gone. Miss Couse took my clothes. It had occurred to me that taking a shower and putting on the same dirty clothes was stupid, but I had been hustled in here so fast that I never got a chance to protest. Hustled in and intimidated, I realized. She was nice but also could be authoritative too, and me being kind of meek was no help.
My underwear. I cringed when I though about Miss Couse seeing my stained briefs, and the only consolation was that they didn’t have any skid marks on them. I had lost my urge to masturbate and so I turned off the shower and stepped out to dry off.
At least the robe wasn’t a flowery thing, I noticed as I put it on and poked my head out the door. Miss Couse was out in the kitchen, and when she saw me out of the bathroom she walked toward me, still wearing her robe.
“It’ll be a while until the clothes are done washing, and then I’ll get them dried,” Miss Couse said as she herded me in the other direction down the hall. “Give us time to relax.”
“I called Audrey,” Miss Couse continued as she had me make a left turn. “I told her that we had just got done working and that I was going to feed you before taking you home. She was fine with that and said she was going to take Cathy to K-Mart anyway.
And with that I was standing in Miss Couse’s bedroom.
“Get on the bed, Andy,” Miss Couse told me while she walked over to the dresser, and when I hesitated she added, “Go ahead Andy. Get on the bed onto your stomach so I can give you a massage.”
A massage? I had never had a massage before, but all of a sudden I got cold feet and started to mumble a protest but Miss Couse reminded me that it would be over a hour until my clothes were done.
“So you’re stuck here with me,” she said with a chuckle, doing a imitation of a mad scientist or something. “You’re my captive, unless you want to run home in that robe.”
I got on the bed and when I did I heard her laugh.
“Take off the robe first Andy,” Miss Couse said. “Can’t very well give you a massage with you wearing that.”
I didn’t get off the bed, and instead managed to get it off my while still laying down. It was a lot more work that way, but the alternative would have been completely exposing myself to Miss Couse, and that was something I wasn’t ready for.
So there it was. Me, Andy Cousins, naked for the first time with a woman. It had taken long enough, but out of all the women I would have wanted to be with on this occasion, Miss Couse wouldn’t have been all that high on my list.
“Shy fellow, aren’t you Andy?” I heard Miss Couse snicker from the foot of the bed, and it sounded like she was putting some kind of lotion on her hands.
My suspicions were confirmed when I felt my left foot lifted and start to get massaged. It wasn’t a gentle rubbing either, because her hands were working deep, and after my initial start when she touched me I had to admit it felt good.
I wished there was a towel covering my butt because that would have made me feel more comfortable, but as Miss Couse did that ankle and then started on my right foot it felt so good I began not to care.
“How does that feel, Andy?” Miss Couse asked as she rubbed, and after I told her it felt good she added, “Good. You have a very nice body there Andy. If you stared working out with weights you would look even better.”
“I know,” I said sheepishly. “I wish I had some weights or there was a gym nearby.”
“I have weights down in the basement,” Miss Couse said. “If you ever want to use them, stop by. We could work out together.”
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