NOTE: Normally I would post the entire 10,000 words of this ongoing story online at sexstories.com. For some reason, the post keeps getting bounced.



Dennis Richards is a 65-year-old retired Vietnam Veteran romantically involved in a May-December relationship with Darlene, a 35-year-old executive. What Dennis does not realize is that his lover is also one of the founding sisters of an off-the-grid lesbian survival community hidden deep in the mountains of western Colorado.

NOTE: The entire story has been edited by volunteer editor Pepere, and updated by the author.

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CHAPTER ONE

I stuffed my last cardboard box of personal belongings into the cargo hold of my girlfriend’s Rav4, jumped into the passenger seat, and waited while she fussed over a map with directions to our new home. I moved in with Darlene to save money when my landlord evicted me from my apartment for nonpayment of rent. We believed that two could live as cheaply as one. We were right, two could live as cheaply as one, but only for half as long.

Darlene and I had met at a local tavern where we developed an unlikely May-December relationship. She played the part of Ms. May at the youthful age of 35 years. I fulfilled the role of Mr. December at the tender age of 65. Darlene was an attractive, short, little brunette, just under five feet five inches tall, with small breasts, shoulder length hair, and a freckled baby face.

We had become romantically involved as much out of laziness as out of lust. Neither of us wanted to spend the necessary time to search for the perfect partner so we settled for the close enough for right now instead of searching for Mr. or Ms. Right. The joke was that I was ‘robbing the cradle’ when I took her to bed, and she would respond, ‘True, but I feel like I’m robbing the grave when we make love’.

We wouldn’t have had any luck at all if it weren’t for bad luck. The real-estate development company into which Darlene had invested fifteen years of her life went belly-up two weeks after we decided to shack up, and then her last two paychecks bounced. The bounced checks set up an overdraft chain reaction. Darlene’s rent check bounced, along with about 25 or 30 personal checks; each bad check racked up a $35 bank charge, $25-30 in returned check merchant fees, and her account soon was in the red by several thousand dollars. The certified letter ordering our eviction was the last straw. The back of our financial camel broke and the pieces shattered beyond repair. We needed a new place to live, and we needed it fast.

Our dwindling fortunes required drastic action, and Darlene had a plan. She suggested that we pack up, drive up into the mountains, and stay with a group of her college friends. They were a group of amateur survivalists living in an off-the-grid cabin. The commune was located somewhere in the Rocky Mountains about 250 miles west of Denver.

The more I thought about it, the better it sounded. Living off the grid far from civilization was an attractive alternative to living in a cardboard box behind a Stop and Shop supermarket. Besides, I liked the high country and I had made several treks into the mountains while I stationed at Lowry Air Force Base prior to shipping out for an all-expense paid tour of Vietnam.

Darlene and I discussed joining her friends in the mountains. I watched and listened as she dictated a text message requesting sanctuary for us, and shared her joy when she received an affirmative response a few minutes later. We talked long into the night, and we sealed the deal by morning with a wild session of lovemaking. We were going to make a new life for ourselves. We were going off the grid.

Darlene finally finished fussing with the map, folded it, parked it in the sun visor, followed US-70 out of Denver, and we were up into the mountains an hour later. We hit the town of Rifle four hours later, broke for lunch, and I asked Darlene to stop at the local Smoke Shop. I had learned that our new home wasn’t only remote; it was in the middle of fucking nowhere. The idea of running out of cigarettes a million miles from resupply was frightening.

I assumed our new off-the-grid home had some power, so I purchased an electric rolling machine. I then covered my bet; I bought two hand-powered rolling machines just to be safe. I then cleaned the shop out of their inventory of Zen rolling papers (three cases), along with 60 pounds of tobacco, two hundred cheap disposable lighters, and five tobacco pipes. The total bill put a $1,600 dent in my bank account (did I mention that I’m addicted to cigarettes?).

The Zen cigarette tubes and 60 lbs. of tobacco were too bulky to fit in the Rav’s cargo bay, so I ended up securing my newly acquired stash to the vehicle’s roof. I wrapped everything up in a tarp and triple tied it down with rope and bungee cords. The car looked like a band of gypsies owned it by the time I finished.

We turned north on Route 13, passed the town of Meeker two hours later, and we turned onto a winding dirt road leading up into the mountains about 45 minutes later. Darlene announced, ‘It won’t be long now’ for the twentieth time.

Darlene was a bright young lady. She had programmed a series of waypoints her friends had e-mailed her into her vehicle’s GPS system. We followed the dirt road through a thick pine forest until the road devolved into not much more than a poorly marked trail. The trail shrunk down to a path as we continued onward, our path soon became nothing more than a series of GPS waypoints connected by miles of barren rock as we climbed above the tree line. I finally asked Darlene after an hour of driving ever deeper into the mountain wilderness, “How long is not long?”

“We should be there within the hour,” Darlene answered.

“Christ Almighty! Your friends aren’t only off the grid; they’re off the fucking map. Do you have any idea of where we really are?” I complained.

Darlene just shrugged her shoulders, smiled, and kept driving.

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TO BE CONTINUED

 

CHAPTER TWO

Our Rav4 reached a ridge crest, which afforded us with a splendid view of a long thin U-shaped valley nestled between two towering mountain ranges an hour later. We could see a building almost lost in the distance at the far end of the vale.

I could see that the structure was considerably larger than it had seemed from the ridge as we approached the cabin. The rustic cabin looked like it was growing out of the side of the mountain upon closer examination. It was as much a log mansion as it was a log cabin. Solar panels covered the south facing steel roof, and a farmer’s porch wrapped around three sides of the cabin. The overall appearance was Buck Rogers meets Davy Crockett.

The sun had disappeared behind the snow-capped mountains. Night and the thermometer were both falling fast by the time we rolled to a stop in front of the cabin. A welcoming committee of at least a dozen women had gathered on the porch. They erupted in shouts of joy and hand waves when Darlene emerged from the vehicle. The boisterous welcome turned to silence when I stepped out of the car. It was as if someone had pulled the plug on the PA system.

Darlene stepped around the front bumper and gave me a hug as she whispered “Did I mention that this is a lesbian survival commune?” in my ear.

“You forgot to share that little detail with me. What the fuck are we going to do now?” I whispered back.

Darlene was like that. She tended to skimp on the details and fill the void in with trivia or useless information. Darleen held my hand as we broke from our embrace, and spoke to the assembled women on the porch, “I would like you to meet my lover, Dennis Richards, everyone. He’s old, but he’s a very nice guy once you get to know him.”

An older woman, who appeared to be the group’s leader, stepped forward and said, “I’m Lisa, Mr. Richards. Please come inside. I think we need to have a talk.” I had the same uneasy feeling that I used to get when I got summoned to the Principal’s office as a kid.

Lisa turned on her heels, walked inside, and the rest of us followed her into the cabin’s great room. If the cabin had looked large from the outside, it looked like it went on forever standing in the middle of the hall. It was enormous. A massive freestanding stone fireplace dominated the center of the room, and a blazing fire radiated heat and light in all directions. A cathedral ceiling towered over the open space, and a rustic balcony ringed the wall on all sides at the second story level. Thousands of LED icicle lights hung from the balcony’s railings and stairways. A soft, comforting glow bathed the room.

Lisa directed us to follow her to her office upstairs. She stood about 5’6” and was a good-looking woman about my age. Streaks of red highlighted her closely cropped brunette hair, and she appeared to be in excellent physical condition. Her skin had the bronze tan of someone who was no stranger to hard outdoor work. Her face was more attractive than beautiful. She was wearing faded work jeans and a low cut wool sweater which allowed an excellent view of well-tanned medium-sized breasts and ample cleavage.

Lisa’s office featured a large oaken desk and a stone fireplace. A picture window filled one wall with a breathtaking view of the frosted mountains painted silver in the light of a nearly full moon. A floor to ceiling bookcase crammed with books covered the opposite wall. Several oriental rugs were scattered about on the wood floor. Lisa said, “Make yourselves comfortable, I’ll be right back.” Darlene and I took a seat on a small sofa in front of a coffee table and waited.

I turned to Darlene as Lisa left the room, and whispered, “What the heck is going on? Lisa isn’t exactly giving us a warm and fuzzy welcome.”

“I don’t understand. I told Lisa’s assistant that you were coming with me, and she said, ‘Great, the more, the merrier.”

We could hear the voices but not the words of two women engaged in a heated discussion in the next room. The conversation abruptly ended, and Lisa entered the office with another woman in tow.

“Your presence here presents us with something of a problem, Mr. Richards. Darlene sent us a text message that she was bringing her lover ‘Denise’ with her. It was on that basis that we gave our permission for you to join our family of sisters,” Lisa explained.

Darlene let out a little gasp just before she burst out laughing. “Fucking auto-correct will get you every time. I dictated that message on my iPhone, and I never caught the error when it changed Dennis to Denise,” Darlene said.

It took Lisa only a moment to absorb the implications of Darlene’s unintended error. There was no conspiracy at work here; just faulty technology.

“Error or not, Mr. Richards’ presence in our family of sisters might produce unwanted sexual tension, and that kind of stress can be bad for families,” Lisa explained.

“Seriously? You’re all lesbians, how can an old fart like me produce any sexual tension?” I protested.

“There are capital-L Lesbians, and there are lower case-l lesbians, Mr. Richards, and then there are those who might want to find pleasure from a man out of mischief or mere curiosity. The fact that you’re old makes you seem harmless, but I know better. You’re not as safe as you appear. You have already seduced one of our first lesbian sisters and convinced her to take you on as a lover,” Lisa answered as she glanced over at Darlene.

I also gave Darlene an inquiring glance of my own. I had suspected, but never known for sure that my ladylove walked both sides of the street.

Lisa leaned forward and looked directly into Darlene’s eyes as she asked, “Since we’re already on the subject, why on earth did you pick such an old guy for a lover in the first place? My God, he’s old enough to be your father or even your grandfather.”

Darlene laughed and answered, “Everyone wants to know about our May-December relationship. I picked Dennis because he’s low maintenance, easy to be with, and treats me with respect. He’s a fantastic lover and knows how to make a woman happy. He has a very talented tongue.”

Lisa looked over at me and raised a questioning eyebrow. I just smiled back and shrugged as the ‘talented tongue’ comment seemed to hang in the air forever.

Lisa let the silence stretch out a bit, and then leaned across the coffee table, took Darlene’s right hand in her own, and asked, “Tell me, dear sister, is his penis as talented as his tongue?”

Darlene looked surprised at Lisa’s question, and then looked thoughtful. She told Lisa after several moments of reflection, “He has an untrained penis and it doesn’t work nearly as well as his tongue. He sometimes has trouble getting it up and his pecker has a mind of its own at other times. He often suffers from premature ejaculation when he finally does get an erection.”

Lisa glanced over at me and raised another questioning eyebrow. I just blushed, shrugged, and did my best to sink out of sight in the sofa.

“Thank you, Darlene. That was certainly a comprehensive answer to my question,” Lisa said with a wink.

Lisa turned toward her assistant and said, “Will you please show Darlene to her room and round up a few of the sisters to help unpack their vehicle, Lucia? I need to spend a few minutes to bring Dennis up to speed on the ground rules for our colony. Please let the kitchen crew and the others know that we may be a little late for dinner.”

Darlene gave me a quick kiss on the lips and followed Lucia out of the room. Lisa stood up as the door closed behind them, and said, “Let’s adjourn to the next room where we can be more comfortable. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

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TO BE CONTINUED

 

CHAPTER THREE

The ‘next room’ turned out to be the bedroom Lisa shared with her partner, Lucia. The walls were hand hewn pine planks decked out with bookcases and several very well done nude watercolor portraits of women. A queen-sized four-poster bed covered with a beautiful handmade quilt took up one wall, and a rustic looking nightstand with a large table lamp adorned with a stained glass shade provided most of the light in the room. The balance of the lighting came from a stone fireplace with several burning logs. A huge bearskin spread out on the floor before the fire, along with several large throw pillows, offered comfortable seating. The room had an elegant, warm and cozy feel to it overall.

Lisa retrieved an amber colored bottle and two glasses from the bookshelf and sat down of on the rug. She patted a spot next to her as she invited me to sit in front of the fireplace with her.

“Dennis, would you care to join me in a glass of home-brewed brandy?” Lisa asked.

“Only if you make mine a double,” was my reply.

I took a seat on the rug next to Lisa and made myself as comfortable as possible. I wasn’t as flexible as I had been when I was younger. Moreover, sitting on the floor wasn’t my preferred mode of relaxation.

I took a sip of the offered brandy. Oh my, God, it was as smooth as silk, and I could feel it filling me with a warm glow.

“Dennis, how comfortable are you with public displays of nudity?” Lisa asked, as she took a sip of her brandy.

Her question caught me off guard, and I nearly snorted the drink out of my nose as I coughed and choked in surprise. What the fuck kind of question was that?

I replied, “I don’t have a problem with public nudity” as I regained my composure. “I’ve visited plenty of nude beaches in my life.”

“Did you get nude yourself or just visit as a voyeur?” Lisa inquired.

“I got as naked as everyone else. Why do you ask?” I responded.

“Because our dress code most assuredly is clothing optional when we’re in the cabin. Most of us go skyclad when we aren’t working or cooking, or if safety requires that we remain covered up. I’m glad that you’re comfortable with this,” Lisa said, as she pulled her sweater over her head and exposed her braless chest.

Neatly folding her garment, she rose to her knees, unbuckled her jeans, and slid them down to her ankles. Lisa wore no underwear, and her naked body showed no trace of tan lines.

Lisa folded her jeans, placed them on top of her sweater, leaned back on the pillow behind her, and closed her eyes, “Ahh, that feels much more comfortable. I’m almost getting to the point where I hate wearing clothing,” she said with a deep sigh.

I took the opportunity to examine Lisa’s exposed body as she lay naked next to me. Her breasts were still pretty firm, and they showed few of the signs of aging or sagging, apart from a few stretch marks, which came along with advancing years. Lisa’s nipples were about the size of my little finger, and her dark brown areolas were roughly the size of fifty-cent pieces. Her stomach was flat with just a few wrinkles above a thin patch of reddish-brown pubic hair. She was in better physical shape than most women half her age. Either that or she was a very high mileage thirty-year-old.

Lisa’s face had the usual lines and weather worn creases of someone who spent most of their time outdoors, and there was only a slight hint of a double chin.

She opened her eyes as I studied her, and asked me, “Do I meet with your approval?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just not often I find myself alone with a naked woman I’ve only just met,” I stammered.

“This whole thing is way too weird. Talk about being beyond my comfort zone; you’re naked. There’s an entire colony of naked lesbians, and then there is this cabin in the middle of nowhere. It’s just everything. I don’t mind being outside my zone, but I still need the time to process it,” I said.

“Take this cabin, for example. It didn’t grow here. It seems to be at least ten or fifteen years old, and it must have cost a fortune. What did you guys do? Win the lottery or something?” I said, waving my arms around the room.

“That was either a good guess or a lucky guess, but it’s how this place came to be. Do you remember when everyone was freaking out over a $75 million jackpot that remained unclaimed for almost a year nearly 20 years ago? That was the sisters and me,” Lisa said.

“It took us that long to set up a corporation to hold the ticket. We decided that we would fly under the radar. We didn’t want the media attention,” Lisa explained.

“How the hell did you build this structure? You needed some heavy equipment to put this place together, and there are no roads in or out of the valley,” I asked.

“We cut and milled all the wood we needed on site. A French Canadian Heavy Lift Helicopter Service brought in all the necessary equipment to complete this building and about a dozen utility structures,” Lisa said. “I’ll give you and Darlene a tour of our colony tomorrow,” Lisa offered.

I nodded ‘yes’ while reaching into my shirt pocket to pull a pack of smokes out, and asked, “Is it OK with you if I have a cigarette, Lisa?”

“Shit! You’ve got cigarettes? I haven’t had one in years,” she said, as she took the pack from my hand. She tapped two cigarettes out and set the pack down next to her leg. Lisa gave me one before rolling onto her stomach. Slightly spreading her legs for balance, she stretched forward and reached into the fireplace to find an unburned twig to use as a match to light her cigarette.

Her buttocks were on vivid display as she sprawled before me. Each rounded cheek was firm, compact, and well-tanned. Her small puckered brown anus was clearly visible in the valley between them just above the lips of her vagina. I could feel a stiffening in my shorts as my body responded to the vision before me.

I was going to have to get my aging and raging hormones in check if nudity was going to be the new normal. I had a hunch that sprouting a boner every time one of the women of the colony bent over wasn’t going to cut the mustard.

I reached into my pocket, pulled out my Bic lighter, and lit my cigarette while Lisa worked to get her twig lit. I then tapped her on the leg and offered her my lighter.

Lisa relaxed against her pillow for the next few minutes and puffed away at her first cigarette in years. “Damn! I had forgotten how much I enjoyed a good smoke,” she said with a laugh.

“Keep the pack; it’s my treat. I’ve got plenty more in the car,” I said.

“Really? How much is plenty more?” Lisa asked.

“I’ve got enough tobacco to roll at least 24,000 cigarettes. That should last a few years,” I said, as I told Lisa about my bulk tobacco purchase in Rifle, Colorado.

My eyes kept drifting back to Lisa’s breasts and down to her pubic hair and vagina as we talked. I finally said, “I know that staring is rude, Lisa, but it’s hard to keep my eyes away from your body. You’re a very attractive woman.”

“So I’ve noticed, but don’t worry about it. I didn’t give you much warning before I changed into my birthday suit, and this was a test. I wanted to see how you would handle female nudity, and you did just fine. I’m frankly flattered when someone admires my body, even if it’s a man. Just try not to drool,” Lisa said with a grin.

“I understand the usual norms around social nudity, and it doesn’t include unwanted sexual aggression. Just because a woman is naked doesn’t give anyone permission to grope or fondle her. I get it,” I said.

“That is an almost a feminist viewpoint for a man. Maybe you’ll be able to fit in here after all,” Lisa replied.

“I’m famished and it’s getting late, Dennis. Let’s continue this conversation later, but we need to get downstairs before there’s nothing left of dinner in the meantime,” Lisa said, as she climbed to her feet.

TO BE CONTINUED

 

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