Chapter 19

It was not often Gary went away. Not often he went on holiday or journeyed around. He had enjoyed taking Zara to university and, certainly, had enjoyed what they had done on the way. Had enjoyed walking with her naked upon the moors and had very much enjoyed her young body in the open air. It had been surprising meeting Dotty Loupe on the moor and also how she had chosen to walk with them — naked. Not at all a usual thing, he supposed, for mature ladies, But there again, he was rather sure what he was able to get up to with many of the ladies he knew was not usual.

Dotty had invited Gary to visit her at her cottage and he had accepted. One morning found him packing his car ready for the journey. A suitcase with clothes in put in the boot. He was not sure what clothes he would need. The weather looked promising and perhaps he might not need very much clothing at all. He had the distinct feeling he would be gardening naked, as he did at home, but with white haired Dotty. And she certainly had white hair. Zara had said it and she had been so right, Dotty’s bush had been revealed as very much like lamb’s wool, soft, white, and plentiful.

A good drive up the motorway and then, following his route plan, carefully written out and Sellotaped to the dashboard, he found his way to Dotty’s cottage in a charming little village of stone houses. It was on the edge of the village.

And there she was, coming out of her front door in a flowing dress, a rather wonderful shade of coral; sandals on her feet.

“Gary!”

“Dotty.”

Inside to settle in. Shown his bedroom; such a pretty room, feminine in an old-fashioned way looking out onto the street. And shown the bathroom to ‘freshen up’ as one says. Gary relieved himself. Down for a cup of coffee in the garden, seated at a little table just behind the cottage, shaded by Wisteria. Coffee in blue patterned cups with shortbread on matching plates. All quite delightful.

The usual questions about journey, health and so on.

“It was so good hearing you would visit, Gary. I haven’t had a gentleman visitor to stay in years. My Sister visits and a couple of old school friends but that’s all girls — or old women if you like. It will be good to have a man around the house for a few days.”

It seemed to Gary, politic to ask about her late husband. He had already seen many photographs around the house that he presumed was him. Dotty had lost him many years ago. She talked fondly about him. How they gardened together, where they went on holiday and the like.

“I thought we might visit a few local sites. I don’t know what you’d like? Fountains Abbey, perhaps Byland, York Museum, the Strid, Harrogate… Perhaps a long walk or even two? And I’d like to show you my garden and perhaps we might do some gardening together. You’ve brought your gardening clothes?” Dotty’s eyes sparkled with merriment.

“I think I packed them — or maybe I didn’t! Is your garden private enough to…”

“Oh yes. Do you want to go upstairs and change?”

“Are you going to change into your gardening things too?”

“I’ve got them on under my dress!”

Gary went back upstairs and undressed. A quick Shower and he felt cool and ready for a walk around Dotty’s garden. Being naked around the house and garden was ordinary enough at home for Gary, but a little different in a virtual stranger’s house. He had not expected to be naked with Dotty quite so quickly but it was a warm day and perhaps sensible to take benefit in case the weather did not last. Did she even expect him to come down the stairs erect? It was not that she had not seen him like that on the moors. He had had an erection and Dotty had not only seen but held. Tentatively Gary descended, with just a straw hat in hand. The naked gardener out of his usual environment.

He found Dotty sitting where he had left her, only the coral dress had been discarded. A little woman but with all the right bits in the right places. And, just as he remembered, her body did not really fit her age, of course her breasts sagged a little — a seventy plus year old was hardly gonna have ‘perky piggy noses’ and there were wrinkles, but it was clear her wiry body was fit and capable. And there in her lap that ‘lamb’s wool.’ A lovely triangle of white. It was rather pleasing — exciting even. Gary felt a stirring, his maleness coming to the fore. Dotty smiled, a knowing smile, or so Gary rather wondered.

“Dressed for the garden, eh. Very pleasing.” She reached out and took his hand and led him out into the back garden of her cottage. Two people walking on the old stone path in just straw hats and nothing else; one male and one female — and obviously so.

“I haven’t… for years…”

Was that ‘fucked’ for years? But Dotty did not elaborate, rather she started talking about her garden and plants. The first part of her garden was paved and had a little seating area with a clearly old wrought iron table and chairs painted white. Further down flowerbeds in the stony soil, fragments of stone mixed in with the soil. Not easy digging. Holyhocks, delphiniums, lupins, phlox and lavender backed onto stone walls — dry stone walls. A charming old bird bath and a garden shed completed the immediate view. A garden shed — but not like Gary’s. This was stone built, even the slates on the roof (sagging a little) were local stone.

It was all delightful and the two spent a long time walking around and discussing the garden and gardening matters in general. Dotty explaining the difficulties in a wetter and colder climate than Gary’s garden.

“Where does that lead?” Beside the shed an obvious path.

“There’s more to the garden but we’ll need to wear shirts. The neighbours can see your top half.”

“Not the bottom half?”

Dotty giggled, “No, they can’t; no need to cover up, you can leave it all out and dangling in your male way. I do like to see.” Another giggle, quite throaty, “Even better, Gary, that is good to see!”

It was happening. Gary was getting an erection. The blood was pumping and his little (old) man was thickening and rising — standing for the (old) lady. Up it went, nothing stopping it; stumpy and thick, its foreskin peeling back exposing his shiny knob to the sun and Dotty Loupe.

“It is lovely how well things grow in my garden, Gary. I’ll tend to that later, if I may! Tend the new shoot — the budding in my garden. Things do grow well here. But let’s get our tops.”

Gary walked back into the house and up the stairs to fetch a tee shirt. A clean and presentable one. Not the usual old thing he had to hand in his own garden in case someone came calling. Downstairs he came to discover Dotty had put her coral dress on again, just slipped it over her as easily as his tee shirt. It would, no doubt, come off as easily again. The wondered kept him hard, his short stump as upright as the hollyhocks or lupins. Beside the shed a stone chipped path led beside a dry-stone wall and over it, and a little below, the neighbouring garden backing onto Dotty’s at right angles. The neighbours were there, tending to their vegetables. They looked up and had Dotty not been wearing a dress her naked breasts would certainly have been on show — and, indeed, Gary’s chest, had he not been wearing a tee shirt. But their lower halves were hidden by the wall, even when the young woman looked up and waved. Gary had not missed, as Gary would not, the delightful sight of her cleavage. She had been bending to her work and her breasts had hung and rather opened her shirt. The sunlight had come through the material and rather illuminated all within. Gary was sure he had seen at least one nipple. It did not do anything to lessen his erection. It was a very pleasing sight — to an old boy (well, probably would have been to a young one as well!).

“Hi, Dot. Visitors today?”

So odd talking to the young woman and then her husband whilst half undressed, they unable to see he had no trousers or shorts on and, indeed, his cock and balls were not only out in the sunshine but his penis was engorged — well, heavily thickened and upright anyhow! Gary more than happy of course to talk to the young woman, any young woman, like that, noting the considerable swell of her breasts moving as she talked and breathed. They were introduced and then the husband came over in shorts and shirt and joined the talk. Gary wondered what a nuisance it was for Dotty having this ‘exposed’ part of the garden: though, for him, had it been his garden, it would not have mattered for naked gardening as the neighbours would not have been able to see the ‘essential bits’ of Gary Roldern on display, even if in their ‘very rude’ state. But it might be a nuisance to the young couple. Perhaps they liked to be naked too, but overlooked, at least at the bottom of their garden, felt they needed to cover up. A shame! Gary would very much like to see the young woman naked, see her breasts wobbling as she worked, discovered whether her hair below matched the hair above — seen all her, no doubt, pleasing femininity.

And what about the young man? Gary was hardly upset by nudity in any form. And a naked man with a naked woman had implications. Naturally as a small-cocked bloke he thought about the other man’s equipment as they talked. It would be good to see his cock exposed he was sure, most particularly in the business of his Wife — Mary, apparently. Even better in her hand and being stroked. How good would it have been to come into view with Dotty and see Mary and… Jonathan, his name proved to be, both naked and him being wanked, or perhaps copulating — perhaps Mary on her knees sucking. Would they stop when Dotty and he appeared? The wondered of leaning on the separating wall and watching as perhaps Dotty stroked him and he fingered her was a pleasing idea. Gary would like to have seen Mary sucking Jonathan.

But none of that. Mary and Jonathan respectably, if tattily, dressed. Indeed, the only one not properly dressed was Gary — Gary with his upright, peeled cock. Neither Mary nor Jonathan could have any idea just what was hidden by the old dry-stone wall.

Gary and Dotty moved on. Some way further down the garden stood a large rock. An unusual feature in a garden but it was a natural stone outcrop. It certainly had not been brought to site! What was even more unusual were stone cut steps led downwards behind it into a small dell or lower section to the garden. Almost certainly an old quarry, a small one, probably providing the stone for Dotty’s house and a few others nearby. At its bottom a real sun trap and so hidden from the world. Just the two of them down there and the sky above. Not only a sun trap but clearly the shelter made the dell a warmer place all year round. The plants rather exotic for Yorkshire, even banana palms. It was lovely.

“I have to do a bit of covering up and protection in the winter,” said Dotty, “but they survive.”

“It’s lovely. What a place.”

“My plants grow well here — are you going to grow again for me, Gary?”

It had come rather sooner than might be expected. That change from discussing a garden to sexual talk. Obvious to Gary the invitation to visit had been loaded with the expectation of sexual relations, but now Dotty was inviting him to erect in front of her, clearly with a reason.

“Once it is full grown — and it is the dwarf variety, it doesn’t need support — what do you want me to do with it.”

“Will it be ripe, Gary?”

“Certainly, ‘Roldern’s Exhibition, not Longpod.”

“Ripe for plucking.”

“Or something that rhymes with plucking?”

“I’d like to.”

“But will I be juicy enough for you?”

“Shall I find out?”

A slight parting of the legs was an invitation to Gary. Standing, facing Dotty Loupe, his short but solid erection up hard in front of him, Gary reached and for the first time put his hands between Dotty’s legs, under the lamb’s wool triangle. For the first time in many, many years a man’s fingers slipped into the valley between her lips, stroking and exploring. There was wetness. Slippery, sliding wetness — a Hot liquidity. But when he tried to push a finger up into her, he had not a lot of success. Dotty pouted.

“That’s the trouble — or one of the many troubles of age — one doesn’t gush like a young girl. Presumably not like your friend, Zara.”

“Yes, well, she is very liquid when aroused. Perhaps too wet…”

“Can you be too wet? I’ve taken the precaution of hiding a bottle of olive oil behind that rock. Just in case. Virgin olive oil though…”

“Aren’t you a virgin. Dotty?”

“As they say — in my left armpit!”

Just so good to take the bottle of oil and apply it to Dotty. Not just between her legs but Gary took it as an invitation to oil rather more. Dotty’s delight as he manipulated oily hands all over her breasts so clear, her nipples hard under his palms. Oil to her tummy, oil to her thighs, oil all in her white pubic hair, fingers slipping through the curls making them all shiny with the oil.

By the time Gary’s fingers slipped up thighs and between Dotty’s legs he found her own body had produced more lubricity. Did he even need the oil? Difficult to know as an already oiled finger slipped into her.

And then Dotty took the oil. It is wonderful, simply wonderful, to have a woman oil your cock. Oily hands all over it, oily fingers sliding around twin balls and manipulating; everything so slippery and sliding around in her hands. The cock so upright and absolutely shining in the sunlight, the knob looking so, well, ‘polished.’

“You have a lovely cock, Gary. I’ll suck it later, but now…” her hands came up around his neck, her mouth sought his and she pulled herself upwards, her legs coming around his hips and Dotty impaled herself on his cock in one. A perfect fluid movement worthy of a young gymnast, let along a woman of Dotty’s age; and Gary was holding her, supporting her — carrying her. It was a sexual position expected of the young and supple, not of senior people. But Dotty was slim, small, and quite wiry. She had kept herself in trim, could lock her feet behind him and keep herself connected — penis in Vagina — as they fucked — Gary standing, Dotty mounted. The oil had most definitely worked. The movement, the fucking movement, was very fluid and easy. Not quite frictionless but very much the kind of friction wanted by the participants!

Wonderful to fuck in the dell; to fuck naked and outside in seclusion. Next door Mary and Jonathon could have no idea. Not about the old people — certainly not of Dotty Loupe. Good to fuck standing like that and then switch to Gary sitting with Dotty on his lap, on his upstanding spike, she pushing herself up and down it, making oily squelching noises in the sunshine.

A wavering, breathy long sigh from Dotty. “You can come now, Gary. I haven’t come on a cock in… so many years. I’d almost forgotten how good… oh, I do so like this. It’s so animal, so natural. I’m going to make you come, Gary. I’m going to force you!”

Maybe! But Gary was hardly being forced. Having Dotty lithely bouncing up and down on his cock and, moreover, handling his balls with one hand, produced that so natural inseminating action. No chance of conception — not for many a year. This was not Zoe, but Gary’s stumpy job still did the self-same action and with his usual semen-generous output. Shudderingly good as Orgasm and ejaculations go. Great for Gary. Lovely in the sunshine.

Good to potter around in that little dell after intercourse and then to pull on dress and tee shirt and walk back to the house. They need not have bothered. Mary and Jonathan were not in sight.

The next day, talk over breakfast was about where to go. The Strid? Harrogate? York? Perhaps Malham Cove — but they chose simply to go for a long walk across the moors rather like Zara and he had done when they had met Dotty that first time. A picnic packed and two haversacks ready, they jumped into Gary’s car and were off.

A glorious day with fluffy clouds and a gentle, cooling breeze. It was just right for walking.

An hour into their walk found them standing atop a hill looking out over the moor all around. They could see no one. The beauty of the open moor was before them, the clouds moving creating shadows, one moment in bright sunlight, the next the brightness ran away from them as the cloud shadows passed over the land.

“I thought you’d be naked by now, Gary.”

“I wasn’t going to presume but if you like… I’d like.” It did not take much of an invitation for the naked gardener to become the naked rambler. Clothes tucked into his pack leaving him in boots, socks, and hat.

Dotty did not follow suit, at least not immediately, and they walked on ‘CFNM’ style. Years before Gary had come to so like being naked in the garden, it had become his thing, but there was an even greater freedom in being naked out in the countryside.

“What if we meet someone. Will you get dressed, Gary?”

“I don’t suppose I need to, what really would anyone say? Would someone be offended? I think I’m more likely to get dressed if there was a whole group walking towards me. Easier if just one or two I suppose. What do you think?”

A discussion on nudism and the naked body followed. An interesting discussion. Gary delighting in how Dotty said she would very much like to see a group of male hikers coming over the hill naked.

“Penises swinging?”

Dotty’s delightful giggle, “You know, Gary, I like the idea of them not swinging at all but all being up in the air — well, perhaps balls swinging underneath. Mmmm, I like that thought. Balls going from side to side in unison perhaps! All those hard cocks not swinging but perhaps swaying as they come towards me, getting bigger and bigger — because they are getting closer! Yes, Gary, just like that!”

Gary had reacted, his stumpy job now up and sturdy. Not a lot of swaying there — too short. Dotty reached out and encircled and stroked his foreskin as they walked on, gently exercising it.

“Imagine not a group of young men but young women too coming over the hill. Should I let go? What would they say if they came up to us and there is me with my fingers around your thick cock? Would they giggle, blush or even gasp? I can’t really see screaming but I’m sure their eyes would be fixed on your cock, so thick and strong. And what about you, Gary? Would you enjoy showing off to these girls? Are you a bit exhibitionist? Would it make you come, Gary, four or five pairs of eyes seeing your cock all hard and exposed, my hand stroking. Could you help yourself. Would you like that — them all seeing you spurt? Helpless to prevent the spurting.”

It was nice, really nice hearing that. Dotty so deliberately exciting him. Girls seeing him ‘perform.’ He knew his cock was under-sized but also knew he came well. It would certainly be quite a memory! Maybe for them too! And still Dotty’s fingers worked him.

“If you don’t stop Dotty…”

“Wouldn’t you like to come out here in the open?”

“Yes, but I thought we might…”

“Are you asking, Gary?”

He was! And so Dotty undressed, and they walked on like that, enjoying both being naked in the sunshine. Talking of who they might see — and looking for a eligible place to copulate. It proved to be a sun warmed rock a little off the track. It wasn’t likely anyone would come along but despite their talk of exhibitionism a little privacy was actually desired, so best off the path and a little hidden. Pleasant, slow sexual intercourse. Unhurried and delightful. Out in the open with the birds and the bees (on the heather), sun warming bottoms or whatever parts were uppermost with the two people. Natural copulation — easy and Free. It all moving to the natural and pleasant conclusion. And then they walked on again, retaining their nudity.

“I know a lot of women don’t like it. Like to dab it off, wipe it up, but this makes me feel young again.” The opinion came out of the blue.