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The Hedge
THE HEDGE


Saturday arrived much too quickly and I was on my laden bicycle going to confront the challenge of the hedge. I was young and naïve but I could set a string line and cut a hedge, it was useful pocket money while I was at university.


The lady who employed me watched for a time, she sat on the steps of the verandah, resting her chin on her knees with her arms around her drawn up legs. I watched her too but being shy I was careful not to be obvious.


Being the subject of so much attention my work rate was high and I made good progress. The sweat was flowing, my shirt was sodden. Once, when I looked up she was gone. I kept working. Soon there was the bang of a screen door and she was coming out. I ignored her but had seen enough to know that there was something different. Then I heard my name, and looking up I saw she was holding a glass out to me.


"Lemonade?" she asked.

I put down my pruning saw and, saying thank you, took the drink. As I drank she stood and I saw what was different. Her hair was wet and she had a white terry toweling dressing gown on. It was, I thought, a little too small for her. I could see a lot of cleavage. I did my best not to look as I handed the glass back, thanking her. She looked at me and said,

"Washing day, first me and then everything else." She looked at me and repeated,

"Everything!" and then walked slowly back to the house.


I continued to work. It wasn't long and I saw her at the clothes line, bending for clothes, then pegs, then stretching to peg them on the line. I saw her belt fall from around her and the dressing gown opened at the front. I couldn't see any thing, my view was from the side. She gathered the dressing gown around her and reached for her belt. I knew she'd want to know whether I was looking so I cut something with the long handled pruners.


I could hear the washing machine start a new cycle and I could feel her watching me again. I increased my work rate. The sweat was flowing. For some reason, perhaps it was the smell of shampoo, I looked down. There she was, looking up at me. Our eyes met, then I looked away and my eyes came to rest on her cleavage. I could feel myself flush red with embarrassment and I checked to see whether she could see. She was looking at me and smiling. After what seemed like ages she said,

"I've got cordial and cake on the verandah". Looking up she held the ladder as I climbed down.


On the verandah we sat. She drank coffee. I drank cordial and ate cake. I tried to keep looking ahead but somehow I kept looking back at her. The dressing gown was gaping a bit at the top. I couldn't be certain but I thought she had nothing on under it. I could see a lot of one of her breasts.


Then she said, "Your shirt, it's wet and dirty. I'm washing. Give it to me." Her hand was out waiting. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to take it off but her hand stayed there, waiting. Eventually I reached down, peeled it over my head and put it in her hand. "Thank you," she said. We sat there, silent for a while, before I got up and went back to work.


It felt strange working without a shirt on. I was sweating too, a wet sticky surface for all the dust and grime to settle on. I continued to work, cutting, sawing and pulling sections of hedge free. It was dirty work. The dust made me sneeze and it stuck to my skin. Major renovations are always dirty. It didn't take long and I was black.


Moments later she was under the clothes line with a bucket of clothes. Stoop, stoop, stretch; stoop, stoop, stretch. She was facing me. I kept busy with the pruning saw cutting the biggest branches I could find, half an eye on my work, the rest on her. As she continued to stoop and stretch I noticed that she was only getting one thing out of the bucket at a time. I was sure she could have managed more and thought I should tell her. But then I thought that I wouldn't. The belt was loosening. Every time she stooped I could see more. The neck line was becoming longer and longer. I wondered whether she knew I was watching. I had a strange feeling that I was being watched but knew she was too busy to be bothered with me.


I'd done enough sawing so I put down the saw and tried to pull a few branches free. As usual they were too tangled at the top so I had to climb the ladder and use the snips. It was difficult work, stretching to reach I had one foot on the ladder and one on the hedge so I could balance. I managed to get one branch free, then another and I was up on the ladder again when I heard a noise. I looked down and she was looking up.


"Lunch?" she said. I was hungry and happily said,

"Yes please!" She held the ladder as I climbed down and when I was on the ground she said,


"Just look at you. You're so dirty. You'll have to have a shower before you eat." I wasn't sure what to say but found I didn't have a chance to say anything. She'd turned and was walking away. I guessed I was expected to follow. At the door she looked around and said, "This way." I followed her to the bathroom. Opening the door she stopped and pointed. "Shower's in there, use the soap, shampoo and conditioner." With me now inside she pulled the door closed and left.


Looking around I saw that everything was very clean and tidy with lots of mirrors.
The shower alcove was made of clear glass. I saw that there was no lock on the bathroom door. I looked at myself in the mirror and was surprised. I was black all over and really did need a shower. I bent down to pull off my boots, my socks, my shorts and my underpants. In the shower alcove, as I washed, I saw that the water going down the drain was very dirty. I found the shampoo, put some on my hair and started rubbing it in. My hair felt very dirty so I rinsed and put more shampoo on and continued to rub it in. I had my eyes closed as I rinsed, then reached for the conditioner and rubbed in a squirt of that. Eventually, I was able to rinse and open my eyes.


Suddenly I heard her voice and I quickly turned away from where I thought she was. "Towel for you, and I've got your clothes to wash. I'm leaving some clothes you can use while I've got them." I heard the bathroom door close and I looked around. She was gone.


When finished I turned off the taps and got out of the shower alcove. The towel was soft and welcoming. I looked for some underpants but there were none. So I put on the shorts. They were very short shorts with almost no leg and they were very wide. I needed something to hold them up. Luckily I found a safety pin. Then I put on some socks she'd left me and my boots. She met me as I left the bathroom and I followed her out to the verandah where there were some sandwiches waiting. I sat, leaning against a post as she sat opposite me and we started eating. I was hungry and thirsty. After eating a sandwich I reached for the glass of cordial and drank it. Then I saw that she was looking at me.


"I chose those shorts well," she said. I was pleased to be complimented and looked down in agreement. I was very surprised because my dick was poking through the bottom of the shorts. I felt myself go bright red and I pulled at the shorts to make them cover me. I tried to push everything back into place but the shorts were too small. The more I tried the more my dick was exposed and the more it grew.


"Don't worry," she kept saying but I was worried. Being unsuccessful with pulling and pushing I eventually thought to turn myself so I was side on to her and I didn't have more cause to be embarrassed. But my dick continued to grow, it started to stiffen and rose from its hanging position to be standing, the purple head peeking out from inside its stretched foreskin and the veins along it's shaft so swollen it looked like they would soon pop. My dick was enthusiastic in its display and had no regard for my feelings. She watched as I tried to ignore it. I saw her craning for a better view and her dressing gown fell off one of her legs. I could see she had no knickers on because her whole hip was visible. My dick felt hot and throbbed. I wanted to touch my dick, to feel it, to enjoy its length and girth, to exploit its sensitivity but I didn't dare. I couldn't imagine what she would say if it was suddenly pumping out its sperm. I couldn't think of what I would say either. Instead, I sought to hide it, remove the temptation and not have to think about it.


I also wanted to touch her, to put my hand on her thigh and feel her smooth skin, to brush the dressing gown off her other leg and see the junction between her legs. But I knew that it wouldn't be manners and that I shouldn't. The timing was all wrong anyway.


I tried to look and I tried not to look, I could feel the prickles of embarrassment. I reached down and taking hold of my dick tried to put it back inside the shorts. It wouldn't bend, it was so hard the skin simply slid down along the shaft, my foreskin retracted and the head of my dick was fully exposed. Thinking quickly I undid the safety pin and pulling down the shorts a little, exposing my curly black pubic hair I was able to get my dick inside. But now I had a new problem. The waist of the shorts was so low that my dick was poking out at the top. Taking hold of it again, I pushed my dick to the side so that the shorts, as they stretched around my hips, were able to cover it. I could feel her watching and she didn't miss any detail. We both could see the impression of my dick as it strained against the shorts. While I was putting the safety pin in again I saw her throw the side of her dressing gown over her leg and tidy the placement of it. I looked up at her, wondering what she was doing and what she was thinking. She was sitting as though nothing had happened, her face seemed to be immobilized but her eyes moved, quickly taking in the surroundings and returning to the shorts. I had the feeling that she could start laughing uncontrollably with very little provocation.


There was silence for a time, then she asked about my trimming hedges which helped me to relax a little. I was honest and told her that I'd been cutting them for two years, it paid my university fees and kept me fed. She asked me whether I trimmed anything else and I wondered what she meant. But I couldn't relax very much because while she was talking to me I felt I had to look at her. I wasn't sure how I could look at her, the dressing gown had come apart at the front and I could see her chest, from her neck to the belt, between her breasts. Luckily they were covered. I wouldn't have known what to do if they weren't and my dick was still very hard. Soon there wasn't any thing left to eat so I got up and after thanking her went back to work.





 		Submitted by:
murmur

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