[1] Sunday Noon; the First Time
Here I was, dressed in my Sunday best, sitting about halfway back in the pews letting my mind reminisce instead of listening to the country minister's message. In my mind, I reckoned myself to be a 'good' man, yet by the same token, I had suspicions that I was a piss-poor Christian! One of the things distracting me was the thought that there were several damn-fine looking ladies here for me to look at. My widowed status made me fair game for those women to look back at me.
Ladies aside, my mind's meanderings were making me think of the past and wonder about the future of my family...
...
My father was a brusque, burly bear of a man who topped out in height at the 6ft 6in tall mark. When I reached the fullness of my maturity, I retained much of his burliness, but I turned out to be only 6ft 2in tall. Following family tradition, my boy turned out to be 4 inches shorter than I was. Using this illogical reckoning, I suppose I will have a grandson who will grow up to be only 5ft 6in tall. Hell, maybe I'm counting my chickens before they have been hatched, because the way things are going it seems like there won't be any grandkids for me!
For some reason, my father's rough, abrasive manner skipped a generation and fell for my son to inherit. How the boy ever managed to win and wed pretty Jenna Parker was a complete mystery to me. Oh, I suppose the girl thought she could change Benjamin once they were married, but if so, she was only fooling herself.
Now, I can't say that Ben and Jenna don't have a good marriage, because in truth, I guess they do. That little 5ft 2in tall daughter-in-law of mine must have the patience of a saint to put up with some of the stupid shenanigans my son pulls! Often, I'm not even sure if that boy has one single brain cell in his head! In my eyes, his misguided mistreatment of his wife is unforgivable!
Ben and Jenna had been high school sweethearts and the couple had seemed to have much in common. As the kids of neighboring farmers, they participated in many farming activities together. Jointly, they had worked on animal husbandry projects for 4H and the FFA. These two had been prom dates yet neither cared about being the king or queen of the ball.
Immediately after graduation, these two 'kids' had married. Ben had become a partner in a hotrod machine shop and had given up all love for country living and farming. On the other hand, Jenna, a longtime babysitter, had taken a position as a sitter at a preschool daycare facility. I had never seen a young woman who loved children as much as my daughter-in-law did! Although now living in the city, this girl never lost her love for her roots in the country.
While dating my son, Jenna had begun a tradition which lasts to this day. This farm girl really knew how to cook, so she began cooking Sunday dinner for Ben and me every week. How ironic it was that my dad, a long-time tobacco farmer and smoker, had succumbed to lung cancer by this time. My wife, a smoker also, passed away within months of Dad. Those goddamned, flesh-eating cigarette cancer-sticks made me so sick of death I changed my entire farming operation! I no longer produced the cancerous weed. My farm became strictly a hay and cattle operation.
I know that sweet Jenna goes by a couple of erroneous assumptions, which I foster and even encourage. The first is that I can't cook at all myself. The second is kind of a delicate subject. Well, it's this; that pretty little gal daughter-in-law of mine thinks I never get any pussy! Now, those are my words, not hers. That child would never voice any such vulgarity! Yet, knowing women, I know this is what Jenna thinks and I know this is the reason she keeps trying to set me up with ladies!
Well, unbeknownst to my uninformed daughter-in-law, and unlike most men, I 'do' like to cook and I do a damn-good job of it! My secretive ladyfriends, a couple of whom attend my church, like for me to cook for them. After feeding one of them a good meal along with a fine wine, I'll usually get a really nice reward in return. A wet, piping-hot pussy and a couple of rounded, tender-nippled tits, mixed with a heaping helping of engorged man-meat cock, makes an excellent recipe for dessert. Served at room temperature, this scrumptious indulgence will be topped-off with an orgasmic portion of steaming hot cock-cream mixed with a cupful of sizzling pussy-juices.
...
"Dad, Dad, wake up," a soft, timid voice whispered. I felt an elbow poking my ribs. "Dad, you're daydreaming again!"
And, so I had been. Now I was awakening to the sight of an angelic beauty sitting at my side. Dressed in a sparkling white, short-hemmed sundress, Jenna's sexiness was doing little to quell my horny imaginings. This young lady had started calling me 'Dad' when she was dating my son. Okay, that was fine for then and I reckon its fine for now. I 'am' forty years in age while the girl is only twenty-one, but by god, I'm not that gorgeous female's Daddy!
Jenna drove us home from church. It was just we two because my self-involved son was out scouting deer hunting sights with some friends. Hell, deer season doesn't start for two months! Shit, it would serve that young fellow right if some other guy were to jump the bones of his abandoned wife!
Forgetting about my son, I ate our noon meal with my daughter-in-law. As she strolled around the kitchen, I could see only two changes to her church wardrobe. One was the addition of a checkered apron. The other was the removal of her pantyhose. Oh, she was barefoot of course. Now, back to that absence of hosiery... Hmm, this made a man wonder about whether or not there was any other article of feminine attire beneath her dress. Specifically, panties!
"Dad, I have to tell you something," Jenna blurted out from across the table. "And then, I have to ask you something."
Since she didn't yet elaborate, I patiently replied, "Okay Sweetheart, tell and ask."
Jenna neither told nor asked for anything for an intolerable interval. The young lady eventually took a few steps towards me. Tears streamed from her eyes as she planted her shapely young ass in my lap. My burly, 6ft 2in masculine body swallowed up the petite, 5ft 2in young woman. Perhaps this gal didn't know it, but her short sundress' hem climbed up nearly to her feminine unmentionable. Without really intending to do it, I laid a hand on my daughter-in-law's exposed leg high up on her thigh. If I so dared, I could have easily answered my musings about whether or not she had panties on. God help me, I did dare, and she did not!