Jumping the Fence
Copyright Richard Fuchs, 2025. All Rights Reserved. Original Story. Do not repost without permission from the author.
Chapter 2
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 2 - How a single event can change the course of one's life. This is the unusual story of how I got my second chance at love in my life and the women who helped me to get there.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Exhibitionism First Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Voyeurism
The next day, the pattern changed. She came to the fence while I was gardening and got my attention by mock clearing her throat. When I looked up she simply held up her arms like a child wanting to be picked up. “Oho!” I thought, “So that’s how it’s going to be like today huh?” I approached her and leaning over the fence, picked her up by her waist and perched her on the fence. She was in a summer frock today and again, I got a nice pantie flash as she swung her legs over. This time she grabbed my torso with her both of her feet and wrapped her arms around my neck and began to kiss me.
She gave a cute giggle. “Oh kind sir, this poor damsel needs to be ferried across the river to the other side” she husked. For a moment I did not get it. What ferry? What river? My expression may have given her a clue and she bopped me on my head and in an impish voice said “Give me a ride across your backyard silly!” “A mustache ride?” I asked tongue in cheek. She colored but managed to keep her composure, although she dimpled. “Later” she promised. “I told Sue I would go to the mall with her.”
So I carried her across my backyard and deposited her on the fence on the other side and mock growled “Did you pay the ferryman, young miss?” She giggled “I paid half on that side and here’s the other half of the fare.” She swung her legs across the fence in slow motion to gave me a nice long pantie flash. She quickly hopped off to the other side and sprinted away towards her friend’s house. I turned back to my gardening chores grinning.
She did not return that morning and so I headed in for lunch. I was dozing on the sofa with the TV on when I awoke with a start upon hearing a sharp rapping on my back door. I tumbled out of the sofa and opened it and there she was! “What’s the matter Larry?” she asked with an exaggerated pout. “I was knocking for a while.” She took one look at my face and grinned impishly. “Old Mr. Larry was having an afternoon nap was he?” She giggled as she pushed past me into my home. I noticed she was clutching a few bags with brand names of some of the outlet stores at the Mall.
She carefully tucked her bags beside my coffee table and sat on the sofa and imperiously patted the seat beside her. As soon as I sat down she hopped onto my lap and began kissing me. I responded avidly but before I could get a hold of her properly, she pushed me down until I was on my back on the sofa. She reached under her to take off her panties. She slipped off her sneakers, took her panties off and tossed them on the coffee table. I immediately got a nice aromatic whiff of pussy. She clambered on me and settled herself on my face spreading her skirts around my head.
Before I could grab her hips, she was already bucking like a bronco against my mouth and panting as if she had run a mile. The moment my mustache made contact, she was shuddering and writing her orgasm. I gently licked up her juices. “Gosh!” she said with a giggle. “I wanted to do that all day!” I finally situated her properly grabbed her hips and began to eat her out. What followed was a bunch of mewling, panting, shuddering and writhing as she began to have multiple orgasms. Finally, she lifted her skirt up from over my head and stopped me by gently holding my head and pushing it away after she had come four of five times. I lost count.
“I gotta rush back Larry and start preparing to cook. See you around 7.30?” she said. I simply gave her a wet-faced goofy smile and nodded. “I have a surprise for you!” she giggled, gathered up her bags and left via the front door. I latched the door after her and headed back in a daze and sat down. Immediately my eyes were drawn to her panties still on the coffee table. I picked them up and the gusset was soaking wet. I smiled. Well, that explained her sudden urge for a mustache ride.
I wondered what she meant by surprise but I had an urgent appointment in my shower with Mrs. Palmela and her five lovely daughters! With the panties in hand, I sprinted upstairs, quickly stripped and got into the shower. Holding Cassie’s panties to my nose, I began to stroke myself and seconds later I came so hard that I almost fell over. As Confucius say, “Man busy with tool in shower, not necessarily a plumber”. Panting heavily, I started the shower and just let the hot water cascade over me while I pondered at this new curve ball that life had thrown me.
What did I really want from Cassie? Was this a legitimate relationship? Was I taking advantage of her? Was it fair to her if I took her cherry without any commitments? I simply did not know at that time and that really bothered me. I just did not want to risk my formerly pure friendship that I had enjoyed with that sweet kid. Yes. In my mind, she was still that sweet kid. When I was away from her intoxicating presence, I could still think straight. Turning off the shower, I grabbed a towel and dried myself while still deep in thought.
I thought about going over for dinner and letting her down gently. With a start, I realized that I hadn’t even considered her mother Callie and how she would react. Did she know who was coming over for dinner while she was out on her own date? Up until yesterday, it had been Callie who had fueled my masturbation sessions. I shook my head to clear it. This was extremely confusing. My feelings for Cassie hadn’t changed. I still felt for her more as a protective uncle or dare I say it, as a dad. Well step-dad maybe.
To say that I was confused was putting it mildly. It was just 4.30pm I still had three hours before I went over to see Cassie. I sighed heavily and began to brew some coffee. This was not going to be easy. There hadn’t been any time to have a serious talk with her. She did not appear to be in love with me or anything. At least not overtly. Even after yesterday, she still behaved much the same as before except... “Hmmm. She did become a tad bossy and demanding.” “Nah! I mentally argued. “She’s just taking our informality up a notch given our newfound familiarity.”
Needless to say I spent the next couple of hours drinking coffee and whipping myself into a mental tizzy. Not a good combination I must say. It was too early to have anything stronger. You may have noticed from my story that I am not much of a beer drinker. Finally I reached the conclusion that Cassie was just taking our informal “arrangement” where I provided her a safe harbor to practice her femininity to the next level. That made the most sense. I was a safe way for her to lose her virginity before starting college without having to deal with any of the drama from her peer group.
Having convinced myself of that, I felt much better ... Until I thought about how Callie would react to all this. I was very conflicted to say the least. All this while, my eye had been on Callie, Cassie’s mom and not on Cassie. Sure I enjoyed Cassie’s cheerful company. Who wouldn’t? But until the fence incident, I never dreamed of having sex with Cass. It was nearly 6.30pm and another hour to go before it was time for me to go over. I decided that it was time for something stronger. It was time to break out the single malt.
I had stashed a bottle of 75-year old single-malt whiskey that I acquired on a trip to Scotland. It was from a new coastal distiller startup that had taken over a 100-year old failing brand and was trying to rejuvenate it. I had been there to tour the facility to see whether it was worth investing in with the funds I managed. I had already made a big dent in that bottle before and there was about three-fourths left. I quickly poured myself a double, resisting the temptation to make it a triple. I did not want to show up buzzed next door given that I hadn’t had anything to eat since brunch.
As I was sipping, I had a brilliant flash. I had been working on some pink hybrid roses in the garden. They were the fruit of a year long grafting and cultivation exercise to create my own roses. The were smallish, about two inches in diameter and mostly pink with red highlights. A botanist friend had taught me the grafting and cultivation techniques and they had consumed me over the past year until the first blooms of my own creation a coupe weeks ago. Cassie had admired them and so I decided to go and cut her a bunch of those roses for her.
Another sip and another brilliant flash. Damn, that single-malt was certainly doing its job. I decided I was going to name the rose for Cassie. The first thing that popped into my head after that was “For Cassie!” “That sounds like Focaccia!” I mentally scolded myself. “WTF? Wasn’t that a bread or something?” Another sip and I decided that I’d simply call then “Cassie’s Rose”. By this time I had cut enough for a medium-sized bouquet. The roses were not all that large and the bush did not have a high enough yield just yet.
I headed inside finishing up the rest of the single-malt and eyeing the bottle on the counter. I mentally steeled myself and put away the bottle. No more single-malt. It had done it’s job. I was feeling all smug when I realized that it actually hadn’t. The original problem Callie vs Cassie still remained. If anything, I was sinking deeper into quicksand. Here I was naming my roses after Cassie when I had wanted to let her down gently. “You want to let her down gently?” I asked myself. “Hmmmm. Where did that come from?” I wondered to myself.
Then it hit me. By naming the rose for her, I could show my obvious affection for her and soften the blow when I told her that I would not take her cherry after all. I mentally pictured the glowing guy with the halo on my left shoulder looking smug. Of course the red guy on the other shoulder immediately piped up. “All she is asking for is for an older guy she trusts to take her cherry dick-wad!” he screeched. “Do you want to give up that prime pussy that she practically gift-wrapped and thrust in yo-face???” “She isn’t asking for any commitment ya know.”
Damn that single-malt was good. Even tanked up on coffee that double was making itself felt with my empty stomach. I headed up to my bathroom to pee. Coffee does that to me. I decided to shave and get ready. For the next thirty minutes I engrossed myself in my shave and shower. Drying myself, I started to think of what I would wear. I decided on something semi-formal as I wanted Cassie to feel that I had made an effort while still not going overboard. So turtleneck, designer jeans and a blazer it was. I quickly dressed, put the bouquet into a plastic wrap and tied it off with a fabric ribbon and I was all set.
Looking at the clock, I saw that it was just a couple minutes to 7.30pm. Perfect. I stepped out the front door bouquet in hand, locked up and headed across next door. Cassie answered the door and her eyes lit up when I handed her the bouquet. “For you my lady.” I hammed. She enveloped me in a bear hug and kissed my cheek. “I love it Larry, Thanks You!” she squealed. I didn’t get into the naming yet. There would be time for that later. “Is your mom home?” I asked, anxious about whether I would encounter her.
“No. Mom said she was going out to a work event and would be back late” she replied. I heaved a sigh of relief. That meant I could tackle things one at a time. I had every intention of being up front with Callie about what had happened and to beg for her forgiveness. However, at the moment I myself did not know how things would transpire. Meanwhile, Cassie was happily putting my bouquet in a vase. “They are beautiful” she gushed. “No more than you, Cass” I responded laying the groundwork for telling her about the name of the rose.
Cassie brought out a bottle of wine and asked me to help myself. She said that she would have lemonade. Other than that, Cassie exuded a very mature and polished hostess attitude. I poured myself some wine and mentally grimaced as I wasn’t much of a wine drinker either. It was either whiskey or something non-alcoholic for me mostly. But the wine was actually quite palatable. Cassie had probably raided her mom’s stock. The conversation was wide ranging as we each sipped our drinks.
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