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Message-ID: <49611asstr$1098853804@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Kenny Gamura" <turtlemeat69@hotmail.com>
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ReSent-Date: Tue, 26 Oct 2004 18:58:48 -0400 (EDT)
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ReSent-Subject: {ASSM}{CURMUDGEON FEST} The Old Man and the Porch {Gamera}
 (Mf teen 1st)
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Subject: {ASSM} {CURMUDGEON FEST} The Old Man and the Porch {Gamera} (Mf teen 1st)
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Date: Wed, 27 Oct 2004 01:10:04 -0400
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                            Disclaimer

Sir or Madam or Crap for Brains, whichever applies in your case.
This post consists of this disclaimer and a sex story which
follows. You shouldn't read the sex story. Sex stories are bad
things that will rot your mind and corrupt your soul (quit
laughing; I'm being serious here). Sex is a wonderful thing that
is meant to be between two people in love (no, this is not
satire). Like eating, sleeping, drinking, and other bodily
functions short of taking a nice dump, it has been perverted
into some soulless activity that more often destroys happiness
than creates it (and quit laughing, damn it!).

I own all rights to this disclaimer AND the story. Especially, I
own those rights that involve making any income (ie. money, $$$,
cash, dough, and even Canadian quarters - not that anyone would
want to buy the story). Would you like it if someone stole the
fruit of your labour and charged people to buy it or forced them
to look at advertising or close annoying pop-ups to see it?  Of
course you would, provided they gave you a check too.  So, read
it, but don't sell it or in any way, shape, or form republish it
until the check has been cashed and spent at the strip club. By
the way, I own it because I made it up, the story and the
characters and everything else hereafter. Praise, hugs, and
snuggle bunnies to suzeeq and illion for reading the drafts of
this story.

Thank You and Good Day,
Kenny N Gamera
turtlemeat69@hotmail.com

www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gamera
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gamera/www
http://storiesonline.net


                     The Old Man and the Porch
                                by
                          Kenny N Gamera

The old man was on his porch.  He sat in his rocking chair.  The
morning sun shone on his face.  His eyes were closed.  He did
not sleep.  He rocked.  His chair rocked in a gentle rhythm.
The neighborhood and its houses stood empty.  The men had long
left for their work.  The women had gone to their shopping.  The
children had been sent off to their schools.  The houses and the
bushes belonged only to the old man.  He rocked.  An old tom
sauntered by him.  It glanced at the old man.  It saw he was not
a threat.  It sauntered away.

The old man reached down.  He lifted a Mason jar.  It held a
clear liquid.  He brought the jar to his lips.  The liquid
touched his lips.  It flowed into his mouth  He swallowed the
liquid.  He coughed.  The liquid spilled over his undershirt.
The undershirt was threadbare.  It was yellowed like the old man
and in places it bore holes.  He sat the Mason jar back on the
porch.  It landed with a thud.  He placed his hands on his lap
and he faced the sun.  His eyes closed.  The empty neighborhood
belonged to the old man and the old tom and the buzz of the warm
electric wires.  Silence surrounded the old man.  The smell of
many gardens filled his nose.  He smiled.  He rocked.  He heard
gravel crunching.  He heard a whirl.  He guessed a bicycle.  He
stopped rocking.  He waited and he listened for the whirl of the
wheels to pass, but he heard a skid.  He heard the crash of the
bicycle landing against the earth.  Footsteps landed on his
steps.  He heard them.

"Go away," the old man said.

"I will not go away," a girl's voice said.  "I came here to talk
with you."

He opened his eyes.  She looked down at him.  The sun had burned
her to a deep brown and bleached her hair to a mix of dark and
light.  Her hair came to her shoulders.  She wore no makeup.
She hadn't the need.  Her dark eyes needed no assistance to make
them attractive.  The girl sat next to the old man.

"I do not wish to talk with you.  I do not wish to talk with
anyone.  I wish to be alone with myself and the sun."

"I came to talk with you.  There is no one in the neighborhood,"
the girl said

"That is good.  It is very good when there is no one in the
neighborhood," the old man said.

"It is not good when there is no one in the neighborhood.  No
one truly wants to be alone," the girl said.

"You are wrong.  I truly want to be alone," the old man said.
"I am old and have had enough of people.  Now is my time to be
alone.  Now is my time to be sitting in the sun and rocking in
my chair."

The old man cleared his throat.  He looked at the girl.  She
wore a white top with thin straps.  The top was as thin as his
undershirt.  The hem of the top stopped just below her large
breasts.  Her tummy was brown with a silver dumbbell in her
navel. Dark circles showed she had no bra.  Her skirt was made
of denim.  It was short like her top was short.  It exposed her
long thin legs down to the tops of her white tennis shoes.

"Where were you going dressed like that?" the old man said.

"I was going out.  I was going out to talk with you."

The old man turned away.  "Girls did not dress like that when I
was your age," said the man.

"I am not a girl.  I am a woman," the girl said.

"When I was your age, I thought I was a man.  I was not a man; I
was a boy.  You are a girl."

The girl reached for the Mason jar. She placed its mouth beneath
her nose.  She smelled the liquid.  She wrinkled her nose.  She
stuck out her tongue and she went "ick".  She dropped the Mason
jar back to the porch.  The liquid sloshed.  A small amount ran
down the side and wet the wood decking.

"How can you drink that stuff?" the girl asked.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" the old man said.

"No, I shouldn't be in school.  I am finished with school.  I
took enough classes to be finished in the winter," she said.
"How can you drink that stuff in the Mason jar?"

"I take it to my lips and lift the jar and swallow when my mouth
is full," the old man said. The old man picked up the Mason jar.
He showed her how he drank the liquid.  He coughed.  He returned
the Mason jar to the floor.

"No, that is not what I meant.  I meant why do you drink that
stuff."

"It is bad for me.  That is why I drink that stuff," the old man
said.

"The girl wrinkled her face and shook her head.  "That is not a
good reason to drink anything," the girl said.

"When you are old, everything is bad for you.  Everything is bad
for you except pills.  I am tired of pills.  I am tired of
things that are good for me."

"I see," the girl said.

"No, you do not see.  You don't see anything.  You are young.
You need to be old to see anything," the old man said.

The girl sat next to the old man.  He rocked in his chair.  A
small breeze blew through the neighborhood.  Leaves rattled as
it passed.  Another power line began to buzz.  The girl turned
to the old man.  She peered into his face.  Lines crossed his
loose skin.  She reached out to touch his face.  Whiskers
scratched her fingers.  His skin felt thin and hard, like the
paper skins of onions.

"What is it like?  What is it like to be old?" the girl said.

The old man opened his eyes.  He blinked and closed them.  He
gave a hard rock to his chair.  He waited a long time before
saying anything.

"You can't do things when you are old," the old man said at
last.  "You can't do things because you are feeble.  People do
things for you because you are feeble and they think that they
can make you stop the things you like.  They make you take
pills.  That is the worst thing.  They make you take pills until
they come out of your ears.  You don't like the pills, but they
are good for you and you take them.

"It is like being a baby.  But it is much worse than being a
baby.  You know that it is all unfair.  Babies do not know that
it is all unfair."

"How do you know what a baby knows?" the girl said.

"I know what babies don't know.  The young think everything can
be fair.  If they ever knew that it was unfair, they would never
think that anything can be fair."

"Things should be fair," the girl said.

"No.  Things should not be fair.  Things cannot be fair.   No
thing should be what it cannot be."

The old man looked down at her nose.  Her nose was not small,
but it was small enough.  The bridge swept down from her
forehead in a gentle concave curve to its rounded tip.  It
turned up a fraction and it splayed no more than it protruded
from her profile. It was a fine nose.  It was a beautiful nose
on a woman.  It was a fine nose to place between two big dark
eyes.

"You are young and you are pretty.  You have learned nothing.
You have learned nothing about life and what is fair."

The old man turned away from the girl.  He closed his eyes.  He
turned his face into the sun.  He rocked his chair.  He wanted
the girl to go away.  He wanted to be alone in the sun.  He
wanted to be alone to enjoy the day and the liquid in his Mason
jar.  The old man had not deterred the girl.  He could feel her
sitting on the porch next to him.  He turned to look at her.
The girl sat with her long slim legs curled next to her.  She
smiled up at him.  Her teeth were straight and perfect and
uniform.

"You are not like the boys," the girl said.

"No, I am not like the boys.  I am an old man.  Boys are foolish
and dumb.  Old men take lots of pills.  I am not like a boy."

"I know nothing about pills but I know that boys are very dumb."

"Yes, boys are very dumb," the old man agreed.

They sat in the sun together.  The old closed his eyes again.
The sun warmed his face.  He felt himself start to doze.  He
reached down for his Mason jar.  His hand touched the hand of
the girl.  It was soft and smooth.  He moved to the side and
grasped his Mason jar.  He lifted it and drank.  He swallowed
the liquid.  He coughed.

"You shouldn't drink that stuff.  It is bad for you," the girl
said.

"I will drink that stuff if I like.  I am tired of being old.  I
am tired of taking pills.  I will not be treated like a baby.  I
just want to do this one thing and I want to be left in peace."

"You always drink that stuff.  Every day when I go pass I see
you drinking the stuff in the Mason jar."

"I take a lot of pills.  I am very old and I need to take a lot
of pills.  I need to drink a lot of the stuff in the Mason jar
to make up for all the pills"

"You are not old," the girl told the old man.

The girl took the Mason jar from the old man's hand.  She placed
it back on the porch.  She took his hand in hers and ran the
soft smooth tips of her fingers against the thin, wrinkled skin
of his hand.  Her tan skin contrasted with his paleness.  He
squeezed the thin, frail fingers in her small fist.  She brought
them to her lips.  She kissed them.

"You are not old, but you are not a boy any more.  You need to
take care of yourself."

"That is why I take the pills.  I take the pills because they
are good for me."

"You should not drink the stuff from your Mason jar."

"I must.  It is the one sin left to me.  Every man needs one sin
to keep him alive.  The Mason jar is my last sin."

The girl stared up into the old man's eyes.  She touched his
cheek and she stroked it.  She ignored the bristles of his gray
whiskers.  She smiled at him.

"I can think of better sins than that old Mason jar.  I can
think of sins that are much more fun," the girl said.

"What do you know about sins?  You are young.  You are young and
have not been around long enough to learn about sins," the old
man said.  The girl smiled at him.  It was the smile of someone
with a deep secret.  It was a deep secret.  It was a secret she
longed to share with some one.  "You must be old to know about
sin."

"It is easy to know about sin.  I have read a lot about sin.  I
have broadband Internet," said the girl.  She stroked the old
man's cheek again.  "I have read enough to know that I would
like to try to have some sin.  It is just that boys are very
dumb.  I do not want to have my first sin with a boy."

The old man found that he had quit rocking his chair.  He began
to rock again.  He wanted very much for the girl to leave.  He
decided to just stare across the street.  For a long time, he
watched the small birds picking at the gravel in the gutter.
The small birds would pick at the gravel and then fly to the
power line.  They would sit on the power line before flying
away.

"I do not want to sin with a boy," the girl repeated.

"That is wise.  It wise not to sin with a boy," the old man
said.  He did not look at the girl.

"They are so dumb.  I don't want to sin with one.  I want to sin
with a man," the girl told the old man.  He nodded to what she
said.  "Men are wise and know much about things like sin."

The old man had slowed his rocking while the girl talked to him.
He began to rock faster.  He rocked faster but he did not rock
too fast.  He rocked his chair with enough force to look
natural.  He tried very hard to watch the birds.  It was not
easy to rock his chair and watch the birds with the girl talking
to him.  He tried to ignore the girl.

"I would really like to have sinned with a older man.  I would
not want to sin with a dumb boy," the girl said.

She placed her hand on the old man's leg.  He tried to ignore
it.  He rocked his chair as if the girl were not there and her
hand was not on his leg.  He could still feel the girl next to
him.  He could still feel the hand on his leg.  He turned away
from the sun and he glanced down to his lap.  Her fingers were
long and thin.  Her nails were painted a shade of bright blue.

"Girls did not wear blue on their nails when I was a boy," the
old man told the girl.

"Phooey," said the girl.  "You are not a boy now.  You are a
man.  You are the man I want to make me a woman."

He stared at the girl's hand.  It moved up his leg to his
crotch.  Her hand reached his crotch.  She left it there.  He
turned to look into here face.  She smiled at him.  Her dark
eyes stared back big and hopeful.  He turned away.  The birds
were gone form the gravel.

"Go away.  I do not want you here.  My time is short and I do
not want to waste it with girls," the old man said.

"Please let me stay." The girl moved in front of him.  "I have
heard that you are really good.  I have heard the women of the
neighborhood say that you did wonderful things to a woman.  I
want to try them with you.  Please let me stay."

The old man swore.  He swore again.  He stood up from his
rocking chair and looked down at the girl.  He swore.

"Haven't you been listening.  Haven't you listened to me and
about the pills.  I don't need the pills for the Mason jar.  I
don't want to take more pills."

He looked down at the girl.  She sat back on her knees.  Her
fanny rested on her ankles.  She looked up at him.  Tear welled
in her dark eyes.  Her top pulled away from her body.  He could
see her bra-less breasts.  The hung free from her body.  They
were white where she was brown.  He swallowed.  He touched the
brown skin of her cheek with his hand.  His hand as pale and
full of blue veins and it looked very old against her young
face.

"Get up, girl.  Get up and come with me inside."

The girl's face brightened.  She stood up and she took the old
man's hand.  He led her inside of the house.  It was clean and
neat but things had a thin layer of dust over them.  He led her
to a couch.  Bottles of pills covered  an end table. The old man
picked up a bottle and he took a pill from it.  The pill was
blue.

Both the girl and the old man sat on the couch.  The girl sat
close to the old man.  The old man draped an arm over her
shoulder.  He stroked her soft hair.  She turned to look at him
and she started to speak.  He put a finger against her lips.  He
reached over and he shoved her short top above her breasts.  Her
red areolae were centered in white triangles.  He took a nipple
between his fingers.  He gave it a slight pinch.  The girl
moaned.

He kissed her throat.  She leaned her head back.  Her mouth hung
open.  Her breathing grew ragged.  He ran his tongue along her
neck and tasted the salt on her brown skin.  He lowered his hand
onto her thigh.  He gave the solid muscle of her leg a rough
squeeze.  She tensed and he relaxed his grip.

"You have not done this before?" the old man said.  The girl
turned her face from the old man.  He had seen red on her cheek.
He reached around and he took hold of her chin and he turned her
head to look at her.  She let him.  Her dark eyes were
downturned.  He tilted her face up.  She giggled.  He lowered
his face.  Their lips touched.  They kissed.  They kissed with
passion.  They kissed with heat.  They kissed and tongues roamed
within the mouth of the other.  They kissed and hands roamed
over the body of the other.  He lifted the girl's top.  He
lifted the girl's breasts.  The girl moaned.  He pinched her
nipples.  Her nipples hardened.  They grew and extended and
hardened.  He broke the kiss.  Her nipples stood above her
teats.

His tongue flicked her nipples.  It flicked her nipples each in
turned.  He took a nipple in his mouth.  It felt warm.  He
suckled on her hard nipple and he placed a hand atop her mound.
He pushed her underpants to the side.  He felt lace against his
finger.  He touched the outer folds of her sex.  She shook and
she whimpered.  He slid his finger up her folds.  He felt the
first hints of moisture.  He took his hand from her sex and he
licked the tips of his fingers.  He reached beneath her
underpants.  He touched her clit.  She sucked in air.  She
hissed like a cat as the entered her mouth.  He covered her open
mouth with his mouth.  She sucked in his tongue.  He rubbed her
clit in a circular motion and she sucked hard on his tongue.  He
pulled his mouth from the girl.  He looked into her face.  He
dark eyes fluttered.  Her mouth hung open and air filled it in
irregular gasps.  Her cheeks were flushed.  He kissed her cheek.
He kissed a nipple.  He kissed the flatness of her belly.

He pulled down her underpants.  Her underpants traveled down her
long legs.  He pulled them over her shoes.  He dropped them on
the floor.  He kissed the girl's sex.  The girl smelled warm and
musky and womenly.  She smelled of sex and the old man touched
the source of the sex smell with his tongue.  She groaned out
loud.  He licked the girl's sex.  Fine dew covered the folds.
The dew tasted sweet.  It had a slight tang.  The girl called.
He licked the dew away and the girl tossed her head back and
forth.  He reached his mouth to the button at her cleft.  It
stood out from the folds of her sex.  He took it into his mouth.
He sucked hard.  He stuck two fingers into the girl's sex.  He
felt her maidenhood.  He withdrew.  The old man jabbed his
fingers into her sex.  She squealed.  The girl cried out and the
room filled with her screams.

The old man stepped away and he let the girl lay on the couch.
Her eyes stared at the ceiling.  She took heavy breaths and her
chest heaved up.  He watched her breasts.  Her nipples were
coloured an angry red.  Her nipples stood erect.  The girl
looked at him.  He saw her smile.  Her white teeth flashed
between her lips.  The old man slowly lifted his tee shirt over
his head.  He dropped the shirt to the floor.  He undid his belt
and the girl pulled her top off.  She threw to him.  It dropped
to his feet.  He lowered his pants.  He stepped out of each leg.
His slippers fell from his feet.  The girl threw him her skirt.
It landed over his shirt.  He stepped towards her.  The girl
glanced at his manhood.  She spread her legs.  He reached her
and the girl took his manhood.  Her hands stroked it.  He took
it from her.  He knelt between her legs.  He rubbed her sex with
the head.  He pressed forward.  He slid into the girl.  Her face
twisted.  Her eyes squeezed shut.  She bit her lower lip.  He
pressed forward.  He touched her maidenhood.  He stopped.

The girl breathed slowly.  Her eyes stayed closed.  The old man
waited.  The girl opened her eyes.  She looked into his eyes.
"Please," she said.  He pressed forward.  The girl yelped.  He
slid until their bellies touched.  He touched his lips to her
lips.  Her tongue thrust into his mouth.  He responded.  She
broke the kiss.  "Fuck me," the girl told the old man.  He did.
He pumped his manhood into the girl's sex.  "Yes," the girl
called out. "Yes."  He pumped into the girl and the thrust her
body back into his.  Sweat began to form on his brow.  His legs
began to tire.  He felt the seed begin to rise.  He let it.  He
wet his finger.  He touched the girl's clit.  His manhood began
to pulse.  The girl began to shake.  She shrieked out.  The old
man pressed hard into the girl.  His seed filled her sex.

The girl collapsed.  The old man stepped away.  He looked at her
sex.  It was red and swollen.  White cum trickled out.  He
kissed her forehead.  She looked up into his eyes.  She smiled.
He stroked her cheek.  She shut her eyes.  She moaned.

"That was nice," the girl said.

The old man smiled at the girl.  The smile was sad.  He took the
hand from her cheek.  She took his hand and she kissed it.  Her
hands looked tiny.  The old man shook free.  His hand dropped to
his side.  The girl picked up her underpants.  She wiped her
sex.  The old man turned to his clothes.  He dressed.  He looked
behind him.  The girl had put on her clothes.  She tucked her
underpants in her waistband.  The girl walked to the old man.
She kissed his cheek.

"That was very nice.  No dumb boy would have done so well.  I
chose well to pick you," the girl said.

He stared at the girl.  The girl looked at her feet.  "I best
go," said the girl.  The old man nodded.  He followed the girl
to the porch.  He watched her pick up her bicycle.  He sat down
in his rocking chair.  She rode away.  The morning sun shined on
his face.  His eyes were closed.  He did not sleep.  He rocked.
His chair rocked in a gentle rhythm.  The neighborhood and its
houses stood empty.

_________________________________________________________________
On the road to retirement? Check out MSN Life Events for advice on how to 
get there! http://lifeevents.msn.com/category.aspx?cid=Retirement

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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