Chapter 1


The square dance club booth at the county fair was very tempting to me. I had previously grown up in a country atmosphere with 4-H, FFA, and "down-home" country values, where girls were to be fantasized about, but an actual date might consist of dating your girlfriend after school, maybe going to the local drive-in restaurant for hamburgers and fries, and on to the drive-in movie theater for a couple of featured films.

Before going back to the drive-in restaurant for a mug of root beer, cruising Main Street a couple of times and then taking her home. If we were lucky, she might be wearing a skirt with a hemline just "north" of her kneecaps, and if we kissed her just the right way, we might be able to gently caress her lower thighs, or feel her tits through her blouse.

Good girls did not fuck. This was because their mothers had often brainwashed them into believing that if our ole snake found its way to her pussy lips, she could be guaranteed that in nine months a baby would be born. None of us had ever heard that impregnation was often the result of continued fucking through the ovulating period. We did not know what an ovulating period was.

The only thing we knew was that if a girl got some sperm shot into her, that it was almost a guarantee that the next time she was due her period, it would be at least another nine months before that happened. And if she was so unfortunate enough to have those baby makers shot into her, that she was destined to not stop at "GO", but to end up in Hellfires for sure.

Obviously our parents knew better, but in our wisdom our parents did not fuck until such time that they decided we might need a new sibling. And of course none of our mothers and fathers ever ventured outside the marriage bed to fuck another's wife or husband.

So now with the Fair coming up and with my little 15- years old square dance partner seeming to want my body all the time I was in a quandary of sorts. Last fall when our square dance class had started, I had started it almost from scratch because my wife of 42 years had steadfastedly refused to square dance with me right after we got married.

Over the years I had often regretted not going back to square dancing, but I could never make myself do so for fear that my marriage might be over. My wife had many faults, but then again she had many pluses, and she had managed to "maneuver" our marriage right into a scenario where I was not sure I could live without her, economically and socially.

I had turned old enough to retire, so any economic benefits that my marriage might offer were diminished by the fact that Social Security sort of made up for it. So I more or less "went for broke" and told my wife that I didn't really care anymore if she did not square dance. That I was going, anyhow, and did so.

At first I was confronted with the normal string of widows that were seeking some husband to take care of them the rest of their lives after their now deceased first husband had sampled all the goodies, given those kids and those kids were now giving them grandchildren. Or were divorced from a guy that simply had gotten tired of all their shopping sprees that they traded their bodies for in bed so they could spend his money.

Somehow these old grey-haired ladies and divorcees thought it might be nice for a guy like me to be able to enjoy their grandchildren with them. All the while that we men could support their lifestyle to what they had become accustomed to before the deaths of their husbands or their divorces.

For some odd reason, this was not a turn-on for me, and while I had given them a chance, most of their pussies were simply too loose for me, not to mention their floppy tits. I had not lost my desire to have my hard cock in a tight pussy. I could go out and beat my meat and feel much better than fucking some hot old loose pussy that had given birth to as high as 10 babies.

I had started my square dancing lessons to a certain advantage over others who had not square danced. Most of the elementary calls I knew, so when it came time to doing a do-sa-do, or promenade, or swinging/twirling, allemande left, I suppose that my advanced dancing perhaps made me look good in their eyes over some of the other men who had never square danced before.

As time wore on, these divorcees and widows were being narrowed down by me to ones that I would not fuck for all the tea in China, to some that I might fuck if I was horny enough, to a few that I would fuck if the opportunity arose. I could tell by dancing with them if they were fuckable and what kind of fuck they would be. A couple of them had firm breasts that rubbed against my arm as I promenaded with them, or "poked" at my chest as we swinged. And of course the all fuck me look was given by the ones that want a piece of my body.


Nobody has left a comment on this story, yet.