The Old Man and the Porch
by Kenny N Gamera

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.