Hazel And Dan In The Hazy Days Of Fall

Hazel and Dan in the Hazy days of Fall. Book 01

My life became worth a story only after being loved and challenged to learn how to return it. Life for me became a do-over on a warm Saturday afternoon in September of 1978; the leaves are on the trees, but it won't be long before they go bare.

I left the house like most mornings, pissed at my family, pissed at the world, slamming the back screen door maybe more than I should've. So I went to the back of the garage where once my Dad's shop was, it was now mine, a complete blacksmith shop with a full forge, and power tools and hand tools of all kinds were out there.

I went with no clear idea in mind, like most days. I hoped to find something to beat on or work on, often the same thing to me. So I clicked on the old beat-up tube radio that was my grand-pops. The noise and music keeps me from thinking how alone I am as the furnace is warming up. This, You Belong To Me - by Carly Simon was playing on the radio.

I left the shop door open to keep the heat down, The cool air felt good it's going to get hotter today when I start working. The edge of my mad was on me bad I wanted to bang on something seriously hard. I fired the gas furnace up on high by firing up the blower.

Sticking a piece of cold steel in the coals and coke, maybe I make a spade or a knife or, better yet, another sword for the Renaissance fair, my last two sold well. It's adding to my car fund my first step in escaping from this so-called home, a hell hole in word and deed. Hell indeed it was Mom left the house to my Sister because she's older, hell Mom sold it with a Home Reversion Plan in place they pay her to live here.

I pick up the eight-pound hammer one-handed, striking hard making the anvil sing. The shock to my arm, making it ring is calming in a hard way. Then, I raise my arm to make it ring again.

I hear coming from my behind my back. "My word, that was loud, honey. That was you?" You asked.

I turn to the sound of an angel. You stop. Your face shows great deal of concern, but you've not come into my shop yet. The dust particles in the light dance around your head, making you look angelic. I've seen that look before. I'm scary looking when I'm mad; I get that a lot whenever I'm angry.

You say. "Your face sure is red, Hon." Yours brushed a touch, and your hair caught the light, making it look blonder.

I began to snap back at you like I would at my Sister my mouth opened to bark at you, but I could not move when why be mad at you crossed my mind. So I froze and un-froze like that my mad when away.

You say. "You go, Dude, look at you, one second mad as hell, seconds later you looked at me like you see me damn that's sexy. That other thing was scary; my brother got that way bad before he went off to boot camp." You say it as if you do not want to think further about that.

I choked out. "I'm sorry if you knew what I was mad about. You never want to talk to me ever again."

This incredible creature asked me. "What should we do, Dan? Look, we saw what you did for Mae the other day; Dan, trust me, I'm here because I want to be."

My voice dropped off after saying it. "I had to empty my Mom's bedpan again today. She was passed out sitting on it..."

Your face shows concern you are not a poker player; you wear your heart on your sleeve. My face looks like I'm trying to remember your name, your Mae's friend in school my next door neighbor but we don't hang out. We went through first grade together till now but we have yet to speak to each other.

I say. "Breast Cancer, they're taken one; they might want more, but I can't get her back to the Doctor. She has Agoraphobia, her social worker said. Had to look that one up; it means she is afraid of going outside."

I say, trying to hide my pain. Your look tells me I'm failing badly; I've no clue where the guts to tell you that came from.

Your voice was low, as if you were still unsure, you say. "Damn, Dude, I'm still here. I think it makes you well more of a man and not so much a damn boy anymore. Will you help me bring my bike over and fix it, kind Sir? I pay you with a kiss?"

I often mumbled around cute girls, and you sure were one; I have not mumbled once with you today. A senior cheerleader at school turned eighteen a summer ago.

Five foot Five, One hundred twenty-eight pounds, 36-30-34 with DD, dark blue-eyed with a touch of gold specks with long lashes with sexy full lips with white teeth and a long-haired golden blond, her curls catching the light, a vision of an angel was standing a foot or so before me.

Dressed in a matching pink and white seersucker patterned top with cute matching shorts shorts a true fad from the 1960s.

Your name popped into my mind as I spoke, looking into your eyes. "You're, Hazel, aren't you? Be happy to, but I not kissed..."

Hazel says. "Me too, Dude; every guy I know wants me to; many have kissed me without asking, and I kissed none back so far, but I have to want to first, you know? Nobody has been first until now, but we can learn together, right? So, Dan, I think it will be fun. Call me Hazel in front of our folks, but you can call me Hazy when it's only us."

We crossed the yard to your house; the small talk was about football and the upcoming season, I admitted to not knowing who we were playing or why and mostly knew a few on the team, but I was not a fan; I felt out of place like home.

We, or rather I, carried your bike back to my shop. Sticking the bike on my work table and see the wheel is badly warped. One of the spokes is bent with the wheel rubbing against the frame, and your chain is off the sprockets. Hazel is looking at my shop. It's neat, and clean two kinds of brooms are in the corner. A suitable size fire extinguisher was mounted by the door. It was a gift from my grandfather. You took one of my handmade screwdrivers it's turned rosewood handle made it stand out.

Hazel says. "Wow, I never thought you could buy tools that look so pretty, each one a different wood. All your tools look pretty. My uncle's tools look nothing like this."

I answer you by saying. "I was taught how to make tools; my Dad's rich, or we would not live in this subdivision. My Dad refused to buy me tools. He gave me something money can't buy. He taught me skills. He taught me how to make my first sledgehammer but gave me the forge and electric sledgehammer. They were my Dad's. With all the hand tools I made, I could swing a hammer in third grade. Made my first tool this hammer."

I hold it up. Its oak wood is turned for a better grip. Hazel looks at all the tools; they are all polished out, but the hammer's sides show tool marks.

Hazel says. "I'm not sure I believe you made all these, but my Dad takes me with him to the hardware store, and these are nothing like them."

I answer. "Because I choose how to make them. Never thought once they were pretty but thank you for that. They are my therapy from my well from my family."

I smile, thinking what to say without getting hit I say, grinning from ear to ear. "It looks like you got to need a total rebuild from the wobbly tires up, lady. Your shocks don't bounce no more. Them handlebars are all bent and all, your frames are shot and all wonky, your block is cracked and dirty, and the air in the tires is old. I sure smelly, your chain is wet and all greasy, your front end looks wobbly but oh so damn nice, your seat is unworn, but shiny, really damn shiny, but it's a really nice seat, and your smile lights up my shop."

I laughed out loud and hard; the look on your face was priceless. "I have you back on the road. It's a couple of hours tops, maybe a bit longer if I have to make a spoke. I was only trying to sell it as being lots more work than it was, so we can do lots more kissing than only once."

Hazel laughs; it sounds like music. "I'm prepared to offer an advance payment, kind sir." Hazel says. "Thank you for being honest; you're not like any of the other guys I hang with, but that was damn funny. You had me going there, you big kidder."

I move my six foot two and one hundred eighty pounds halfway to you; you look deep into my blue eyes. We let our lips meet for the first time, but damn sure not our last; your lips are hot. You have a taste. I was unsure what it was as we twisted our lips apart, your soft hands stroking my hard chest, making me shake. I snap to your taste of Avon hot cherry lip gloss. I pull my long dirty blond hair out of my eyes.

I whisper. "I love to do that to your chest too, Hazy, but I'm not sure if you hit me yet. We're still kind of new at this."

Hazel laughs and says. "Dan, you told me you had not kissed before; you kiss too damn good for me to believe you."

Hazel has a questioning look on her face, whether she is catching me being a player or not.

I say. "My Aunt showed me how to hold your hand like this; now kiss it." I laughed, kissing my hand near my thumb, making them into lips.

Hazel Laughed; hers was almost musical. "Hey, that works, Dude; now, Did you ask to touch my breast on our first kiss?"

I say, smiling hoping to live. "If the answer is yes, I did, I mean do, but you recall I did say we're still new at this."

Hazel says between breaths. "Do you think I'm a slut if I tell you I kind of want you to? But Dude, your hands are covered in dirt." You look into my face on what I need to do.

I say. "I don't think you're a slut, but if we touch now, it's only sex. I not saying that's a bad thing at all, but I think I like to wait till I want you to know how I feel about you equals how I touch you. I'm saying I want so much more with you; once would not be enough. Sorry, I have not felt at ease with a knockout babe like you, sorry... Babe, it's the wrong word. Goddess is closer but still not there yet. Hazy Hon, how am I this calm? I was not calm at lunch the other day when you sat down and tried to get me to talk to you; god, I'm such a dork. I'm, err, yes, I asked to touch your breast a few minutes ago, and I know we will, but it's going to be so fucking hot."

I wipe my hands on a clean rag picking you up and holding you by your waist up off the ground, so if my hands are still a little dirty, I won't soil your clothes. I kiss you holding you up, holding you, not squeezing you.

We kissed. I parted our lips, sitting you in my chair an old bar stool. I say. "Well, will you sit with me as I work, Hazel? Anything you want to talk about? You collect stamps I remembered you bringing them to show and tell in third grade. My Granddad does too; I think he would like you even though my Mom won't, not that I give a fuck."

Hazel looked up and smiled. I felt happy; yes, that was a new feeling for me. You say. "I rather hear you tell me why you were in the perfect spot to kiss Mae in the closet playing spin the bottle and did not. I heard the guys telling you to pop her bra and 'get some' Mae told me what you said."

I Told Hazy. "Fucking nobody tells me what to do with my friends. I understood she was going steady with Scott, so we did not have to kiss. I wanted it to be me; if it was anyone else when in there with her, they would have done it."

You get up and kiss me again, your hand on my chest again. "That's a reward for being a friend to us girls. I'm sorry we never hung out before; it's shameful your right next door. But, I trust you; if you want to touch my breast, I'm OK with it there, only breast; it sure feels nice touching you."

A guy could get used to this as your hand touches my hard stomach under my torn tee shirt.

I say. "Thank you, Hazy, that means a lot, but I'm not sure I've not have a total meltdown if I start that now. We will, dear, we will. Somehow I think there be a lot of firsts between us. I feel odd saying this. You're the first woman I ever kissed and wanted to. This is not enough; it will never be enough."

Hazy says. "You are my first too, Gosh Hon, we are virgins together. I think I like to plan on us being our firsts in everything. Did I say that to my new boyfriend, my dear man?"

I smile as I say. "Yes, weird, huh, you did; I won't say no to that; you take my breath away. Wait Boyfriend?"

Hazel chuckled. "Right, I don't feel shame saying this, no shame at all. Do parts of your body tingle right now, or is it only me?"

I laughed out loud and say. "Hun, you're making me firm man wise you can even say you're making me wet too. So come over here, woman, and earn your keep cleaning up this dirty bike. I would like to work next to you."

You begin cleaning and polishing your bike up, looking at me occasionally. I took the bent wheel off, letting the air out of the tire; it did stink. Taking it off the rim, the bent spoke off and tapped it on the anvil, hoping to make a straight one out of it, but it snapped; no luck there.

I turn the blower up on the forge taking the steel out with tongs. I add a piece of rod steel, drawing it out a few hits at a time. I heat it pulling it through a sizer. I cap a mushroom head on one end and bend it to match its broken brother. Quench it in motor oil, cut it to lengthen cut threads with oil, and put it back on the rim. I put the tire and tube back on the rim, turned on my homemade air compressor, filled it. Spun the wheel, oiled it up, and put the bike on the shop floor. We were done, and your bike was shiny. A few hours flew by. We talked non-stop all afternoon. It was nice, not one word on football. I've not seen a lot of nice in my life before. Hazel looks at the spoke and says. "I believe in you, never doubting you again. You made that part you took the bike apart like it was me with my Lincoln Logs.

I pull the scentless hand cleaner goop out to clean your hands with mine. My hands rubbing yours. Damn, how is this even this sexy? Hard to talk, but I hope that was your moan. You squeezed my hands back, and I did moan too. Damn, does everything about this woman feel good?

I asked. "Your smell is wonderful, Hazy, but had it changed in the last hour?"

Hazy says, a bit of tremble in your voice. "Are you turned on too, dear we're not on our first date yet to even ask that, but it's yes, damn it, you making it hard being this close to you."

I moaned saying. "It's because we're both turned on to each other our smell is doing that. But, Hon, if we kiss now, it will be all kinds of hard stopping."

Hazel says. "Dan, I'm OK with that; I'm not worried about you stopping; I trust you, Baby, I've looked into your eyes, and you won't ever hurt me. I have heard of many things we can learn to do that feel good, or so I've heard. We have all the time in the world, Baby, and to trust your heart; it won't lead us astray."

Hazel looked into my eyes; your stare told me you were an open book ready for whatever come's next, and your smile told me no; it challenged me to do the same.

I asked, hoping I heard you right. "I think now your bike is fixed, we should go get some fresh air so we can cool down, but Hazy, your saying we should do fun things, but will you do me one thing?"

Hazel smiled, saying. "What, that's Dan."

I say. "Please say no because I'm afraid I can't not to you; let's go get some pizza. It will be nice to be seen with you."

You say, looking down. "Dan, I like to be seen with you too. But I think you made me, umm, need to change my clothes. What the hell, Dude? You made me pee?"

I glance at you, seeing the wet spot on your shorts, a damp patch dripping down your inner thigh. I say. "Pee, I would think we would have smelled that, Hon, but I do smell you; what do you think is giving me such a boner?"

I take a clean shop rag rubbing your crotch, trying to dry you, and you moan, your shoulders shaking.

I say. "I know what pee taste like. Not to gross you out, but a few summers ago, my cousin peed in a glass tells me it was beer as a joke. Well, she did say it was her Lady beer. Of course, I gagged when I found out, but I did not die."

Swiping my finger across the wetness on your leg, stopping a few inches from such heat such desire, I grasp to your moan as you fold over your head now on my shoulder; you shutter.

Hazy moaned. "Dan, my heart's pounding. I ache for your touch, Baby. I never felt like this before, like a balloon needing touching; the slightest touch will pop it."

I touched you again on your pussy; my rubbing is making you tremble and groan.

You moaned in your need. "Please touch me more, touch me please, Dan there, I going to explode, please, Baby, is this coming?"

Knowing nothing but your smell with your heat, I grab the wet spot of your shorts. You scream as my hands rub you and flick my thumb across your mound; that did it. Your knees won't hold you up because there is no doubt you came biting my neck with one of your screams that will leave a mark. I'm not going to say this, but I'm dripping to the point that I now have my own damn wet spot.

As you run your hand outside my pants going over my cock. You say. "So hard, Baby. Did I cause this?"

You asked as you moaned again. "Wow, I guess I am a slut, from not kissing a guy to coming in under what two hours, Dude, what a fucking slut? But, Dude, you made a wet spot, too; please show me. I've never seen one up close or wanted to."

I shook, nodding; yes, I say. "Hazy, I don't even know why or how you came, but I loved how it made you feel when you did. I want you to feel a lot more of that, but I want to know how. Not to fumble like the kids that we are. I said I wanted us to wait, but I'm sorry if you think you're a slut, well, I'm one also as I unzip, but can we be each other's sluts?"

You wrap your hand around my hard seven inch cock it's width a hand full; one hand is simply not enough for you, and two have me dancing like you did. "OH Hell Yes, Please, Dan." You shout!

Hazy asked. "Baby, that's how you made me feel. I wonder how you taste."

Her tongue sweeps across my cock head as I, too, have to be held up as I now blow my load all over your cute face, even getting some in your mouth. I begin to say I'm sorry, it looks like you are covered in donuts icing, and being the freak I will become, I lick myself off you as I clean your face. We shared a sloppy kiss that was the hottest thing I had ever felt or done; the taste, the heat, and the lust were out of this world.

I am still throbbing hard in your hands. You say. "My gods, you taste good. How are you still hard?" You moan.

I say. "I can't stand it softer, please baby, please let me have a second."

Catching our breath and getting my senses back. Thank goodness I had the shop towels to clean us up with, but between me and my wet pants. To Hazel's cum splatter top with her wet shorts. I don't see any way out trying to sneak into the house a mess like we are; we're so caught.

Wait, pop like a balloon, I say. "That's it, that asshole next door; he hit me with a couple of water balloons. Mom, Boys make me tired. How women let them touch us is beyond me."

"That's what my cousin said, coming in covered in the water; we had been playing Doctor then, and things got out of hand." I finished.

Hazel says. "What a great idea a little white lie but I can live with it!"

I say. "I cover you in water to cover up; I get us extra cheese on your half of the pizza. I've never seen you eat meat before; wait, that makes it sound like I'm stalking you. I see things and remember things Hazy, well in till a few seconds ago anyway, about the meat thing. Oh, even that makes it sound like I watched you for years; it's only been a month. I swear I notice things."

Hazy says. "I eat meat in Chinese food and Pizza; that's a fine idea, but let's burn this puppy up before getting wet as she pulls a joint from her sock."

I say. "No, sorry, we should get wet and spark up; my Sister could come out here to tell me what I have done wrong now at any time."

Well, we played with the garden hose we ended up soaked. It was not a one-sided attack, but it was an all-out war. Our water balloon fight involved lots of touching and giggles.