Incendiary Summer
It can get sad for a moment, because now is the last month of summer .. But let’s not let this blues get our thoughts) Let’s have a little more fun this summer! With pleasure
– Withheld by request
——
Those aren’t my words. Those came from a model on the Literotica 18+ Webcam site who asked that I withhold her stage name. I always do.
What a beautiful sentiment from a beautiful woman, but Sonya is my only webcam love and has cast a spell on me to try and cast this new woman out. The forces of nature are due to clash!
That’s a story for another time. I must let Incendiary Summer be the passion burning through me tonight. Forgive me Sonya. Tonight’s fantasy is about another woman. You know what won’t happen. I am completely yours when it comes to that.
Fantasy time:
———————-
Gerard “Gerry” Stevens was a rich man. A very rich man. He had started as an importer of tropical fruits and nuts and now sat atop one of the largest food store chains in the United States.
His partner, Ezekiel “Zeke” Evans, was a marketing genius. He liked to take credit for their success and kept reminding Gerry to try and present himself with a better appearance by doing things like printing business cards which had their commonly used names in quotes.
Zeke was a pain in the ass. Gerry hadn’t gone by the name Gerard since his grandmother called him that in the eighties.
Gerry steered the van into the drive and parked near the entrance to the house. Four men rushed out to greet him and carried his supplies inside. Gerry liked to work with people. He liked to know a little bit about them and to get to know what motivates them. It was what made him such a great leader.
Zeke interpreted the whole thing to mean Gerry liked to get his hands dirty. To get down in the trenches and crush rock with the common worker. To be used.
But this was going too far.
Zeke had married a younger woman, his “trophy wife” as he called her, about 20 years ago. They had three children, all girls. His wife, Juanita, was having a midlife crisis at the ripe age of 40. She was convinced her body had gone to waste from the ravages of childbearing. She actually looked great. Her Latino heritage was well framed by her long legs and tight abdomen. Where the damage had occurred from having babies was unclear to Gerry. Maybe her large breasts fell to her knees when she undid her bra.
Gerry was a painter. A very good painter. He had picked it up as a hobby in youth and never did it for anything but his own pleasure. Many offers were given for his work, but he cherished them all and politely refused. Zeke had insisted that Gerry paint his wife’s portrait. Multiple portraits, actually. They were all to be in various poses while wearing a variety of swimsuits. Then they would be mounted on an obnoxious wall that Zeke had ordered built around their gigantic pool.
Gerry thought it was the dumbest idea he had ever heard of. This was exactly the reason he never married. A woman could make an utter fool out of a man.
———-
Zeke was rambling on and on. The press was there and cameras were rolling. There was no shutting him up when that happened. He was showing off the pool and his ridiculous wall. His wife and children were introduced. A huge unveiling ensued where Juanita basically did a striptease on the 5 o’clock news, dropping her robe to show off her first bikini. The cameramen then started heading toward Gerry. He felt like he was going to vomit.
They stopped instead and introduced the famous Native American artist Reince Whitehorse. He was an icon here in Oklahoma where he was born and raised. Gerry had insisted that his name not be associated with this project. Zeke agreed, but only on the condition that Gerry pay for this entire affair, a sham press conference and Reince Whitehorse pretending to be the artist. Reince and Gerry went way back. Reince did the whole act for the cost of one bottle of Corona. Without any lime. Gerry had the feeling that cost had just gone up to 2 bottles after seeing the pomp and bombast unfolding before him.
Gerry mindlessly bumped into someone. It was Zeke’s oldest daughter, Isabella. She had her two sisters Maria and Andrea with her. “My Dad is a black hole of idiocy!” Isabella bemoaned. She didn’t comment on Gerry bumping her. It had been right into her left breast with his arm.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Sorry? You are the one who is going to paint her flabby body and stick them up all over the pool. My friends will never come over again.” Gerry felt the impact of her words. She had a charmed life, regardless, but did Isabella actually suffer from her parents’ public displays of stupidity? He was sure she would be fine. She was very popular and not because of her parents.
She was the spitting image of Carly Foulkes, the super hot model that put T-Mobile’s commercials on the map by zooming around in pink and black on her motorcycle. She had just turned 18 and was making men act like fools with a quick twitch of her pert little nose or a pout of those puffy lips. Those lips gave Gerry a reason to want to stick around and talk. He had never noticed how sensual they really were. A subtle lick here and there or even sticking out her tongue could get a man hard as a rock. He was 43 years old and this 18 year old sizzling beauty was about to make his temperature rise to a dangerously high level. She knew she was beautiful and kept moving her head around like Carlos Santana was playing in her head.
“Who am I kidding.” he thought, “more like Taylor Swift.”
Isabella’s slate colored eyes came from her father. Thank God the rest came from her mother. The jet black hair. The insolent look. The long legs. He hadn’t seen her body, but in this heat it was likely to happen. He would be spending the rest of the day around the pool painting her mother.
“STOP”, he scolded himself, “that is enough!” He was acting like a dirty old man. Forget that she was half his age. She was his partner’s daughter! Zeke would probably kill him if something ever happened. He talked as if he knew men that did that sort of thing.
“I will need to catch up with you later, Isabella. With your leave.” She hated when he did that, especially the bow, but he couldn’t help himself. The whole family acted like nobility, why not play the part?
She gave him a coy smile and continued to bop her head around as if listening to music. “You don’t know yet, do you?”
“Know what?”
The youngest, Andrea, gave him that cute five year old look of hers and said, “We are all going to be in the pictures Uncle Gerry! Mommy said so.” Isabella stopped moving her head and bit her thumbnail while smiling at him.
The look almost gave him an arrhythmia.
————————
It was bad enough that Covid was ravaging the country. Now the heat was as well. Oklahoma had no beaches, so lakes and swimming pools were the only outdoor relief offering water. This was going to be a hot and miserable day for all.
Everyone was ready except for Isabella. The 18 year old was always late, of course. Gerry wasn’t about to make them all sit out in the heat while he composed his paintings. He would take photos of them in all of the various group settings, and then paint them in individual sittings. If the heat was bad enough, he might even have to do that by photograph.
She had arrived.
In the beginning of the Clint Eastwood movie High Plains Drifter, a man appears out of the desert as if coming out of nowhere. The heat rising off of the sand made it difficult to tell whether you had missed his approach, or he had simply appeared out of thin air.
The heat was rising off the walkway towards the pool. Isabella was walking towards the group. Whether she appeared out of thin air or not, it didn’t matter. She was composed of the heat, and the hazy effect it had on the senses.
He first noticed her legs. Long and perfectly shaped. Her stride was that of a panther. Strong, agile and dangerous. Her face came into view and his willpower began to fade. She was getting into his head. Her bikini was blue with black patterns and nearly made him drop his jaw to the floor. Her breasts were slightly smaller than her mom’s. There was no way they would sag if released from their top. The tightness of her abdomen and slight sway of her breasts as she walked had completely taken over his focus and concentration.
He dropped his beer.
Zeke hadn’t noticed, but Juanita did. Gerry begged her with his eyes not to say anything, and she thankfully complied. Her look was piercing, however. He knew this was going to be a rough weekend. He hated Zeke now even more than he thought possible. He had been forced to miss a barbecue at his playboy friend Steve’s house to do this painting catastrophe. A spicy hot woman at that pool party would have meant incredible sex, not menacing looks from her mother and the risk of getting caught by her father. He really hoped Zeke didn’t really have mafia hit man friends.
————————
The group photos went smoother than he anticipated. Zeke kept trying to mess everything up and the heat was getting unbearable, but they were done by early afternoon. Gerry wanted to start with the younger girls but genuinely cared about their skin. The afternoon rays are the most dangerous thing the Sun gives to this Earth. Juanita was not hearing a bit of it, however. She was the star of the show, and stated that if he didn’t want to do the children that she would go first. It was clear from her look that Isabella was included when she said, “children.”
The area cleared. The girls had to be happy to get out of the heat. Isabella looked like she could care less, walking off with her head still bobbing back and forth to what was probably Taylor Swift’s “Wildest Dreams.” Her ass swaying back and forth made him have a few wild dreams of his own.
“So which pose do you like best, Gerry?”
Sometimes in life we make mistakes. Sometimes we make big mistakes. Gerry opened his mouth and made one of the biggest ones of his life. “Why are you doing this Juanita? You are one of the most beautiful women in town and don’t need me putting your image up all around the pool just to prove it.”
She looked at him and reached down for his beer, taking a long pull on it. She was looking him up and down like he was some sort of outfit on a mannequin. “Let’s cool off a bit in the kitchen. It really is hot today.” He agreed heartily. Some cool air conditioning and iced tea would really hit the spot. As they entered the house he sighed deeply as the cool air washed over him.
She grabbed him by the arm and started leading him into the changing room by the entrance. He was surprised it was empty. Wet swimsuits were everywhere. The rest of the family had just come through. His eyes widened with surprise as she locked the door. “Did you really mean that Gerry? Or were you just wanting to get over to your friend Steve’s orgy disguised as a barbecue?
“Of course I meant it.”
“How would you know what I’m going through if you haven’t seen everything?” She reached behind her and undid her bikini top, letting it drop to the floor.
“Juanita!”
“Oh come on Jerry, we have known each other for years. Zeke refuses to even look at me anymore and my body is going to seed. My boobs are covered in stretch marks, look.” She pulled up what looked like a perfect globe and he saw a few light ones on the side. Her nipple had nearly brushed across his face as she moved. Then she did the same thing for the other breast. There were even less marks on the other. In all her breasts were large, full and quite arousing.
“Juanita, those are barely noticeable. Zeke is an idiot if he is not paying you attention.” Gerry knew he was having an affair. Zeke was leaving, in fact, that night for what he told Juanita was a business trip. It was actually a three day romp in the Florida Keys with a strumpet barely a year older than Isabella.
“You’ve never been married, have you, Gerry?”
Here it came. A topless woman, crying about her husband not paying attention, asking about you being single. Why did they always start with such an innocent question? Men are stupid, but not that stupid. Why not just say, “Would you fuck me now and make me feel like a woman again?” Gerry held off a sigh and knew he was stuck. He had no condoms. He was sure she would find some. But Juanita had a different plan.
“No, I haven’t Juanita. But I know what you are thinking. If I give in now and make love to you, Zeke will have me killed.”
She laughed. “You don’t believe that whole hitman bullshit he always talks about, do you? Zeke is all talk and no meat to back it up. You, on the other hand, seem to have no problem with the latter.”
His cock was completely erect. “Thanks pal,” he thought. She reached down and lightly stroked it through his trunks, then worked her way up his abdomen towards his chest. “You stay in such great shape, Gerry. How do you do it? Zeke lifts weights all the time, but looks like a blob of dough.”
“I work for a living.” That made them both laugh. Her breasts jiggled and she pressed her nipples into his chest. Whatever chance he had to resist up to then was now gone. She reached up and pulled his mouth to hers, kissing him ever so lightly. “I’ve been told my tongue can do wonders, and not by Zeke. He has never even known the pleasure.” Gerry was intrigued. They had been married 20 years. Apparently Zeke wasn’t the only one whose interests had wandered. Maybe the weekend wouldn’t be so bad after all.
She kissed him down his chest, stopping on his left side to lick the nipple. When she got to his trunks she didn’t simply rip them down like most women would, she went slowly and alternated kisses and licks with each inch of skin exposed. She was good. Real good. His cock was already pushing up against the band as she went lower.
She didn’t waste an inch of her fantastic body. As she moved his trunks lower down with one hand, her other had slid inside his shorts in the back and was working away on his ass. She used the same gentle, tantalizing style. Even tickling ever so lightly. Her breasts were pressed against his thighs and she had them working magic too. She had shorter nipples but they were as hard as bullets. Each thigh was treated to its own rubbing and poking.
His cock finally popped out and she let his shorts drop to the floor. Her deep, dark brown eyes looked up at him and he knew she was going to make this intense. They couldn’t be gone too long, however, or someone would come looking for them. Most likely Zeke.
Or Isabella.
Juanita began at the base of his balls with her hands and his belly button with her tongue. The tip of his cock was right next to it, but she stuck her tongue deep inside his navel and started kissing at as well. Her other hand was holding his cock against her cheek. Some pre-cum started to ooze out. She pulled away from his navel and brought the tip of her tongue to the first drop of precum gliding down the side of his shaft. “I see you like this. Maybe there is some kernel of truth to all the compliments you gave me.”
Suddenly, she went into overdrive. Grabbing his cock firmly at the base, she shoved it deep in her mouth and drove him wild as she went up and down on it. He was getting extremely hard. She looked up at him and begged with her eyes. “Cum in my mouth,” she said, “you know you want to. I want to taste your cum and then have it spill out and down over my breasts.”
How could you argue with a request like that? She took him back into her mouth and he exploded almost immediately. He started bucking and another blast of cum hit the back of her throat. True to her word, she closed off her throat and it started pouring down the sides of her mouth. Seeing it hit her large breasts nearly made him start having a second orgasm. He completely emptied his balls into her mouth and onto her breasts. He leaned back against the locker and tried to catch his breath. She wasn’t kidding. She could do wonders with her tongue.
They cleaned up and he sprayed down with cold water to keep his erection from lingering. She somehow had managed to not get any cum on her outfit, so they could still do the painting in the same swimsuit everyone saw her in. Good job Juanita.
She reached down and gently cupped his balls. Then she gripped tighter. Then tighter still. What the hell?
“I really hope none of that passion was meant for my daughter Isabella. Zeke is talking bullshit when he says he has hitmen. I am not.”
Oh shit. He was fucked if Isabella gave him even one more teasing look.
————
Painting always came easy to Gerry. Juanita kept trying to move her crotch in such a way that it was the center of the painting. He easily avoided that and in the end was satisfied with his work. He had made her look young and trim.
The girls were a slam dunk. They both loved him when he came over and he could have painted their faces from memory. For the bodies they were glorified stick figures. He had them wrapped up by 5pm.
It was time for Isabella.
And her mother. It was clear Juanita intended to sit in on this session. Isabella was having nothing to do with that. Their bickering as they approached took nothing away from the sight of Isabella’s young figure. Zeke and Juanita had contributed some to this girl’s looks, but the rest seemed to come from some private reserve of genes granted to the ancient goddesses of lore. Forget “The Face That Launched a Thousand Ships”. Isabella could easily put Jeff Bezos onto Mars in his blatantly phallic shaped spacecraft, rather than the next lot over.
“I’m staying and that is final,” stated Juanita. That seemed to put things to an end. Until an aide arrived with a phone call.
Zeke had been hurt on the way to the airport and was undergoing surgery to save his life. The painting sessions ended immediately.
——————
Gerry had lost his friend and partner. The children had lost their father. Juanita had lost her husband, and her only reason to stay in the United States. After the funeral she immediately took the girls to their sprawling estate in Rio De Janeiro. Isabella flat out refused to go. She was old enough to decide on her own.
The estate was locked up in probate, leaving Isabella in need of a place to stay. Juanita refused to talk with her. She also tried to scare Gerry off from intervening with threats of thug assassins. It didn’t work.
“Thank you again for letting me stay here, Uncle Gerry.”
“Isabella please. Drop the Uncle part,” he asked. She had taken the death of her father in stride, but the massive fight and estrangement from her mother had knocked her confidence down a bit. She rarely bobbed her head around anymore and was being so polite to everyone that he was beginning to wonder if the counseling she refused should be urged again. Gerry didn’t use much hired help, but they were taken in by the poor girl and a few even sat with her for some tears and comfort.
He knew she would snap out of it. It was only a matter of time. Then he suddenly got an idea.
Isabella was up early that a.m. and drinking tea at the kitchen table with her school materials spread out before her. When she was accepted to Stanford last year everyone assumed she got in on the merits of her father’s generous donations. The last few days had changed Gerry’s opinion on that, however. She was incredibly bright and very creative. She had written him a poem about it being the last month of Summer and that while it was sad, they should have “a little more fun.” The poem was titled, “Incendiary Summer.”
The choice of those words got him going. He thought back on how she nearly brought him to his knees walking into the painting sessions in a bikini. He needed to see that again.
And her poem sounded like she was crying out to do the same.
“Good morning my lady, if it pleases thee, I have a surprise for you.”
She almost rolled her eyes, but then the sad, polite version came through. “Really Uncle Gerry? That sounds wonderful, but I really must get ready for Stanford. So much to get organized and lots to buy.”
If that was the best she could do this would be easy.
“It involves painting. By the pool.”
“I don’t mean to sound rude, Uncle Gerry, but that was my Mom’s thing.” A twinge of anger showed on her face. Even that looked sexy as her lips drew slightly taut.
“Your Mother’s ridiculous paintings are locked up gathering dust somewhere, and so is she down in Rio. You are free now, Isabella. There is so much creativity in you. It is aching to be expressed. Trust me, as an artist myself I can see it.”
“You think I’m an artist? Based on a 4 line poem?” The brief moment of sarcasm in her eyes told him this was working.
No, based on seeing you. On seeing you this past month. On seeing you grow from a girl into a woman. On seeing you get “Uncle” Gerry so hot he dropped his beer when he saw you in a bikini.”
That got a giggle. It was beautiful.
“So I can get a dirty old man so fired up he drops his beer. That makes me an artist?”
“No.”
“No?” She raised an eyebrow. Did she just bop her head a few times?
“No. Not an artist. Art. You are art in its purest form. You emit art. You can’t help it. When you speak, when you write –
When you bob your head and bite your lip like that.”
“Uncle Gerry, shame on you. Are you trying to hit on me?”
“Only if you drop the Uncle and start giving me back those smiles, head bobs and wetting of your lips.” She stuck out her tongue. He solidified completely.
She got a serious look again. “Gerry, I know you want me. For some reason I like you too. It would be scandalous, however, for us to have sex so soon after my father died and my mother abandoned me to your care. What would the newspapers say if we were caught?”
“Sex! Whose talking about sex? I’m talking about painting. And what’s with the ‘for some reason I like you too?'”
She licked her upper lip and he nearly fainted on the spot. “Well, you are old enough to be my grandfather.”
She was back. The mopey Isabella had been put away for good.
“Your Grandfather? I believe there will have to be a spanking after this session.” The head bob was back. She also had an impish glint in her eye.
“I think we better get this session started then, but my bikini is still locked up in probate.”
“It won’t be necessary.”
——————
Gerry had more particular tastes than his recently deceased partner Zeke. His house was architecturally sophisticated and had many terraces and pools surrounding a small but impressive garden. Oklahoma wasn’t known for thick forests, but Gerry had found one in which he buried his entire estate. The large trees walled off his garden and pool area, giving him a place to relax in privacy and an almost surreal state of peacefulness.
Isabella was born to be in this garden. In his pool. In his paintings. The next few hours would be nothing short of glorious.
“Where do we start?” She asked, admiring the marble and granite pool. She had been to his house only a few times. Zeke and Juanita did all the entertaining.
“I think on that table next to the pool. It’s quite comfortable and can be used for sunbathing or a massage.” He didn’t mention that it could hold his weight as well, even if they were in the throes of passion. One look from her and he realized that she already understood.
“I get to pick the music,” she said, and began to walk over to the console.
Ugh.
“I don’t think there is any Taylor Swift in my collection.” He knew she could just add it, but was curious as to what would be her response.
“Tay Tay is much better than what you old Grandpas listen to, but I’m not sure I want to see the results of having me force it on you during your creative process. It might look like a paint by numbers disaster.”
“Grandpa again? The spanking is going to really hurt.”
She bit her lip and touched the screen of her phone. Samba Pa Ti, one of Santana’s earliest instrumentals, filled the air.
The weight of his balls nearly doubled.
“Gather what you need then. Let me prepare.” Her head didn’t bob now. It flowed. Like Carlos did on the guitar.
He couldn’t believe how she had already taken control of the situation, and he loved it. Her “preparation” consisted of stripping off all of her clothes and diving into the pool. Her body seemed to simply resist clothing. When others undid a pair of shorts or panties they had been wearing, the pattern was imprinted into their skin for at least a minute or two. Her clothes simply fell to the ground and her smooth skin started embracing the sun as if it was meant to be there. No imprints. No rough edges. No imperfections at all.
Her body was as perfect as he had ever seen, and that was saying a lot. He had closets full of paintings he had made of women in various states of undress. No one even came close to matching the vision that had just been flashed before his eyes. Her long slender legs were capped by an ass so beautiful it made your hands involuntarily start to make squeezing motions even though you were across the pool. Her abdomen was flat but not interrupted by overly buff muscles. Instead she had one of those deep looking navels that completely captured your gaze and brought on visions of paintings adorning pirate captain’s quarters in the South Seas.
Her breasts were completely unlike her mother’s. She had smaller nipples but not small enough to hide the pinkness of the areola and the stiff rosebud shape of her tip. The shape of her breasts were exactly what women ask for when they visit a plastic surgeon (unless they wanted ridiculous balloons glued to their chest). No surgeon could match the look completely. It was better to be born with the original. Isabella was the original.
She had a small, neatly trimmed stripe of pubic hair –
“Gerry?” She broke the vision to garner his attention. She had taken a swift lap and then exited the pool to lie facedown on the table. A quick flip of her hair was all the preparation she needed.
“I’m sorry.”
“Good thing you weren’t holding a beer,” she giggled. “Is it OK that I’m wet?”
His jaw refused to move.
“Don’t look at me that way you dirty old man. I mean will the water affect any of the lighting or tones?.”
He had no saliva in his mouth whatsoever. The nearby Corona was his only savior. Taking a huge gulp finally allowed him to speak. “No, it seems to add to your aura. You were born for the sun.”
“You are joking. I have incredibly light skin. My mother can be out in the sun all day and never so much as get a little pink.”
“Let’s leave your mother out of this. Today is a new beginning for you, but thanks for the warning. You have used sunscreen?”
“Of course.”
“How about rolling on to your side facing away from me. Let your legs lie comfortably with your knees slightly bent to bring out the tightness of your ass even better. That’s it. Now bring your left arm up in an arc and run it through your hair while you bring your right shoulder back to look straight at me. Perfect. Can you hold that for a while?”
“Yes. But this pose? Seriously? You are such a classic. This better look like a Monet, and not a Picasso.”
“A Manet, actually. Maybe we do need to use a towel behind your ears. It seems a bit wet as far as your knowledge of painting history is concerned.”
“Oh gramps, I think it is time for some Kanye West!”
“I did have an erection. Thanks for killing it.”
He proceeded to lay down his initial strokes and decided he could get to like Isabella for more than just her body. She had a wit about her that he enjoyed. They could carry on a fantastic conversation. Two months ago he could count the number of words he had said to her with a single hand. Now he was being spurred to a new level of artistic creation and was possibly – no – falling in love with her?
“Gerry?”
“Why thank you for calling me that! Yes?”
“I think I’m getting a cramp.”
“Oh let me help!” He immediately put down his brush and rushed over to her. She wasn’t overly distressed but didn’t look too good. She was spacing out her words like she was falling into a dream state. He lifted her up and gave her fresh water. She drank greedily. He noticed that even in this state, she licked the rim enticingly before handing the bottle back. “She must not realize she is doing it,” he thought.
“I think you better rub it,” she groaned. She must really be hurting. He felt guilty, looking at the sun and realizing how long it had been for her holding the same pose.
“Where is it?” He asked.
She dropped onto her back causing her breasts to jiggle and her nipples to stare him in the face. He could not wait to immortalize them in paint, but more pressing matters were at hand.
“Give me your hand.” He held it out and she wrapped it in hers. I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier. The cramp started a while ago.”
“That’s OK. Let’s just take care of it now.”
“That’s what I was thinking too.” She parted her legs and rested his hand on her open pussy, rubbing it around slightly to let him feel how sopping wet she was. He should have been stunned. He was simply consumed.
“Oh you she-devil. You got me.” He started working his fingers inside. Her clit arched up for attention but her wetness made him think it might be best to avoid it. She might climax before he had a chance to be inside her. That was now his only goal. It consumed his mind and his body.
Gerry dropped his clothing and climbed up to kneel between her legs. She watched his every move. “I’m sorry to call you Grandpa,” she said, “you are a handsome man with a fine body. Your cock is huge. Please be gentle.”
He looked at her eyes and realized she was serious. He seriously doubted she was a virgin. Maybe high school boys didn’t come well equipped anymore.
“Of course, Isabella. You guide me in. I would never hurt you.”
She looked in his eyes and the cold grey was nearly blue. “I want to make love with you Gerry. I want to make love and when I cum, we both cum together. I have wanted that for some time.” He began to worry it might be him that came too fast. That was the most arousing thing he had ever heard.
She reached down and lightly stroked his shaft. Even her touch felt like an art form. Guiding him towards her opening, she used the tip of his penis to part her lips and then rubbed it around slowly. With each circle she was working it in slowly, and getting wetter. Finally the tip was inside, but she still held onto his shaft. She was pulling him in slowly.
“I don’t want to be treated like a child anymore, Gerry. You were always the one who I’ve looked to for some form of sanity. If you weren’t around, I think my parents would have turned me into a some sort of drug addict or psycho killer. It doesn’t help that your body drives me nuts. I’ve only wanted you. I’ve known it ever since the night at the clinic.”
He knew exactly the night she was talking about. She had been dating a freshman in college, and he had hit her. She was afraid her father would kill him, so she called Gerry. He nearly killed the boy anyway. They took him to the clinic for stitches, letting his parents know loud and clear that he was never to come near her again.
When they later stopped in her father’s driveway, she took his hand and thanked him. They looked in each other’s eyes and something came over them. They were within inches of each other and about to kiss when she pulled back and said goodnight.
“I thought it was just me that night. You pulled away.”
“I saw my mother watching through the kitchen window. I had to stop it.”
He was overcome with passion and started kissing her. Lightly at first, but then hard and deep. His cock was doing the same thing inside her pussy. The table by the pool started creaking as they were filling the air with moans of pleasure.
“Oh God I can’t last any longer. Cum with me Isabella. Cum.”
They pulled at each other’s buttocks and he felt her pussy start to contract even tighter around his cock. She was quivering and started to pull him in even deeper. They both came.
“Oh my God Isabella. I love you!” His cock exploded just as her pussy went into spasms. They were like a concert, coming together in waves and then radiating it back out to their fans. The crowd was going nuts. Carlos just started “Black Magic Woman” and – who was that? – Taylor Swift was singing. More beautiful music has never been made.
At the peak, Gerry suddenly had a vision. It was as if he was on an airplane and broke through the clouds. Then he was in a palace. He was looking at two infants who were playing in a small garden by a Gazebo. One had a dandelion whose spores were floating off in the breeze. The other was trying to catch them by clapping at them as infants do. They were both laughing and rolling around on their naked rumps in the summer sun.
“Hold me,” Isabella begged as she couldn’t stop trembling. She shed no tears, but it had obviously been a deeply emotional experience for her. It had been for him as well. It was by far the most intense orgasm he ever had. They held each other tightly. Did he really say that he loved her?
She had stopped trembling and was looking in his eyes. “I’m sorry I said that,” he said softly. “That was just so beautiful.”
“Oh, you will be definitely sorry.” She sounded a bit hoarse.
“How’s that?”
“Because I will forever hold you to it. Gerry, our age doesn’t matter. We are kindred spirits. As artists we both understand how important that can be.”
“Won’t you get sick of calling me old?”
“Not at all. You really stink at catching dandelions, by the way.”
That decided it. For him. For her. The summer had won again.
———–
“The small town in Oklahoma had never been rocked by such a scandal as it found itself in during the Summer of 2021. The largest grocery chain in the country lost one of its co-founders, Ezekiel Evans, in a tragic accident. The man’s wife soon left the country to return to Rio De Janeiro, where she was unsuccessful in her bid to buy out the largest portion of the inheritance from her 18 year old daughter Isabella.
Within days of the settlement, Isabella married her father’s partner, Gerard Stevens, 25 years her senior. Mr. Stevens had never previously married and was a notorious playboy, often seen on yachts and at extravagant parties with a woman on each arm-”
“Now stop right there. Who told you that last part?”
Andrea wanted to become a famous reporter. Her first assignment had been to write a feature on her sister and older husband’s story. Juanita reluctantly agreed.
“I can’t reveal my sources Uncle Gerry.”
He looked over his glasses. Isabella had a wry smile. “He’s not your Uncle anymore, Andrea. He is your Brother-in-law.”
“But I always call him Uncle Gerry.”
“I know sweetie.” Isabella walked over and gave Andrea a hug. It had been nearly seven years since she had seen her. “But he is starting to get upset when anyone reminds him he is old.”
“Don’t I still owe you a spanking?”
“I don’t think you are up to it anymore, Gramps.”
Lucia rolled her eyes. “Stop! I’m about to vomit you two.”