I remember all the rumors from my childhood. She was a man that dressed like a woman. She had both male and female sex organs. A man that had fake tits. All kinds of dirty stories and whispers.
I was a kid then. Now I was in community college and needed a source of income. She had a help-wanted ad in the newspaper. Her shop was only a mile from home so I thought, “What the hell?”
“Hey, Miss Walker,” I said into the phone, “This is Terry Harvey. I saw your ad in the help wanted.”
“Are you one of Charles’ boys?” she asked.
“Yes ma’am,” I answered, “I’m the youngest.”
“I’ve done a bunch of work for your dad over the years. He has some beautiful horses. Why don’t you come on over? We can go over what I need you to do.”
“I’ll be over in a few minutes,” I told her then hung up. I told my mom where I was going then jumped in my old F-One Hundred. Just a five-minute drive and I slammed the rusty old truck into park and walked to the open door of her shop. “Miss Walker, ” I called.
“Come on in,” she shouted over the noise of a grinder. “Call me Annie,” she said as she held out a hand.
“Annie, ” I said, as I shook hands with her, surprised at her tight calloused grip.
She wore her black hair tied up in an old red bandana, a sweaty blue tee shirt, and knee-length cut-off jeans. Her face and hands were covered in black grease or soot. It was hard to tell. Her arms were not huge but muscular. She waved me in and turned to lead me. I noticed the muscles of her calves. Tightly toned. She was in her fifties but very fit. A fleur-di-lis tattoo on her left calf and crossed hammers on her right.
There were hundreds of horseshoes hanging on pipes along the walls. Hammers, pliers, punches, and all manner of blacksmith tools. There was a forge running in a corner of the metal building, fire erupting from the opening. Bars of metal and round stock in bins and barrels along another wall. Several anvils of different sizes were mounted on concrete-filled drums lined up in the center.
“I need a helper or even an apprentice,” she began, “I’m not as young as I used to be.” She picked up a hammer and pulled a bar of stock that glowed yellow from the hot forge and started shaping it on an anvil. “The work is hot, hard, and heavy. The pay will suck until I know you have what it takes to learn to do the job. I can work with your school schedule if you can work late hours and weekends.”
I was eighteen years old and had never been afraid of hard work. Dad had a ranch and worked my brothers and me like our lives depended on it. I remember Annie shoeing horses for him for years. I nodded and told her I wanted to give it a try.
I watched as she hammered the metal stock into shape on the anvil until it was too cool to work. At that point, she put it back into the forge to heat it back to working temperature. I looked around and asked if she had made all those horseshoes.
“I used to,” she answered, “I buy them now, then fit them at the job site. Now, I make tools for other smiths. I’m more into making knives and swords now.”
“Swords?” I grinned.
She took the metal out of the forge again and began to hammer it. I could see it taking shape. She was making a knife. I watched in amazement at the technique she used to shape the curves of the blade and handle. I watched her strong arm as she pounded the hammer over and over onto the firey metal she held with her tongs.
As she worked, the piece of metal cooled to a red color. She put it back into the forge again, “You don’t want to cold work a piece of steel,” she said, “It will begin to microcrack and the tool will fail.”
With hands on her hips, she stretched back, causing her sweat-soaked tee shirt to tighten across her chest. Naturally, I noticed her nipples standing proud on top of the small swells of her breasts. They stood erect and long.
My eyes lingered a bit longer because hers were closed. I had never looked at her in this way. When I was a kid, I made fun of her with the other boys. Up close, yeah, she was a little masculine, but she was still a woman.
Her breasts were not huge, but they were there. Her hips were narrow, almost like a man’s, but her ass was nice. Her arms and legs were muscular, but she swung that hammer every day. She was not a beauty queen, but she had a friendly smile. I quickly diverted my eyes before she caught me staring.
After she finished hammering the yellow hot piece of metal into the shape of a knife, she offered a tour of the shop. I listened as she explained the different types of metals that lay in various bins. I learned the basics of how a forge works, the process of shaping a piece from beginning to end, and the importance of proper heat treatment. She walked me through the differences in blacksmithing, blade smithing, and farrier work. I followed her from the forge to the finishing room. She explained the processes of adding handles, guards, pommels, and bolsters to knives and swords.
Finally, she took me into her office where we went over tax information and my school schedule. She told me to wear comfortable clothes that I didn’t mind messing up. “A tee shirt and jeans or shorts like I’m wearing,” Annie said, “I can work around your schedule. I need to know if you’re okay with late nights and weekends.”
“Yes ma’am,” I affirmed, “If I have exams to study for, I will let you know in advance.”
“Cool,” she said with a smile, “Looks like you can start tomorrow afternoon.”
“I’ll be here as soon as I get out of class.”
“Go home first,” she said, “Change clothes and get something to eat. We have a job over in Leesville. Going to be a late night.”
We shook hands and I hurried home to get some studying done. After dinner, I jumped into the shower and then hit the sack early. It was going to be a long day so I wanted to get some rest. I found myself picturing her in my mind as she stretched, her tank top tightening over her breasts. Her nipples straining against the thin sweaty material.
What would the guys think if they knew? I was hard. I pictured Annie as she pulled that dirty tee shirt over her head, exposing her breasts. My hand squeezed my throbbing shaft. In my mind she stood naked, pinching her nipples. I slowly stroked my dick under the sheets.
She looked into my eyes as her fingers twisted and pulled her nipples. My eyes trailed southward on her body. I pictured a dark triangle of curly hair between her muscular thighs. It was damp with sweat and the flow of her excitement. I watched as she slipped a hand from her breast and slowly down her body.
I stroked my cock faster as my fantasy continued. I took time to push my boxers halfway down my thighs. Cupping my balls with my left hand, I continued stroking with my right. My mind’s eye watched as she knelt in front of me, taking my cock into her mouth.
Her dirty hands gripped my ass as she took my length into her throat. Her nose pressed into my belly as she swallowed every inch of my sex. She looked up at me as she worked up and down my shaft. Her brown eyes seemed to hypnotize me. I felt my balls start to tighten and draw into my groin.
I came to myself as I began to pump my seed into the night. It was too late to stop myself. I felt the warm, sticky fluid on my belly and my fingers. I came hard and drenched my sheets. My head spun as I tried to coax every drop out of my balls.
As my orgasm faded and I caught my breath, I flung the sheets off and stumbled to my bathroom. After cleaning myself up and changing my sheets, I turned in for the night. Aside from an unconscious dream or two, I slept well until waking to the alarm of my bedside clock.
It was another hot day. School dragged on and on but finally, it was time to go. I sped home, changed into some old clothes, and ate lunch. Throwing a few bottled waters and a bag of chips into my old Ford, I sped to work. Annie was loading her truck when I pulled up.
I helped her load the last bucket. It was filled with horseshoes and tools. “Are we going to the Hornsby ranch?” I asked.
“Yep,” she answered, “We have eight horses to shoe.”
The Hornsby ranch was the largest horse ranch in the area. It would be a thirty-five-mile drive, then however long it would take to do the job. After that, another thirty-five-mile drive back. She wasn’t kidding, it would be a late night.
“Did you eat?” Annie asked.
“Yes ma’am,” I answered, “I brought a snack and some water.”
“Let’s ride,” she said, “Sooner we get there, the sooner we get home.”
I tossed my bottles into her cooler and opened the passenger door of her F-two fifty super duty. It was in the nineties so the air conditioning felt good. The first fifteen minutes of the drive were spent chatting, and getting to know each other. I learned a lot about her. She was fifty-eight years old and had never married.
She explained that her fiance had been killed in an accident twenty-six years earlier. She had never wanted to go through another loss like that so she had given up on the idea of marriage. There had been other men, but she hadn’t tried to get serious with them.
I told her of my present girlfriend and some of my exes. I was not planning on getting married anytime soon so for now it was just fun and games.
“You mean sex,” she teased.
Never one for shyness, I smiled and replied, “What else?”
We drove on for another fifteen minutes in silence. I couldn’t help but notice her nipples, apparently tightened by the cold air conditioning, pressing through the thin material of her shirt.
I couldn’t understand what was so attractive about her. I had already masturbated with a fantasy of her. Now I was sneaking peaks at her. She was like three times my age. I had a pretty girlfriend that loved to fuck. Why the hell was I dreaming of Annie like this?
The tires clattered across the pipes of a cattle guard as we pulled into the driveway. About three-quarters of a mile of gravel drive and we stopped in front of a large barn. I recognized Mr. Hornsby when he walked out of the building. After a few minutes of small talk and handshakes, he led us to the horses.
Annie was a great teacher and had me working non stop for the next three hours. With three horses remaining to service, we took a break. Annie asked me to grab a couple of waters from the cooler. As I fished out the bottles, I noticed several bottles of Coors floating in the icy water.
“You’re doing good,” Annie said when I handed her a bottle of water, “Just a few more horses and we are done.”
“There is more to it than I thought,” I remarked, “I’m trying to catch on.”
“You learn fast,” she answered, “Keep it up and you will be shoeing them without me.”
After a couple more hours, we were finally finished. Annie told me to collect the tools and load up. She made out a bill for Mr. Hornsby. We were tired, sweaty, and dirty but we were finished. As I slammed the tailgate shut, Annie tossed her invoice book on the backseat and said, “I’m going to wash my face. There is a hose by the fence if you want to clean up.”
I followed her to the bib and opened the valve. She let the water run over and down her strong arms then handed me the hose. I let the water cool my arms as she rubbed her palms up and down hers, loosening the grime. She cupped her hands and I filled them with water.
She used the water to rinse the dirt from her hands and arms then cupped them again. I filled her hands with the cool liquid and watched her splash her face. The red bandana that she wore to keep her hair tied up darkened as the water soaked into its edges.
I filled her hands two more times and she repeated the process for me. Finally, we secured the hose and walked to the truck. I sat in the passenger seat and pulled the door shut. Annie went to the cooler and grabbed a couple of bottles.
“You like Coors?” she asked as she climbed in, offering me a bottle.
“Yes ma’am,” I answered, taking the cold wet bottle from her hand.
After taking her work shirt off, she cranked the truck and we were on the road. The beer was cold and refreshing. Again we chatted about the job and the techniques of properly shoeing a horse. I paid close attention. I wanted to do a good job for her.
After a while, we ran out of things to talk about so I sat quietly drinking my beer and glancing at her. She had cut the sleeves from her baggy tee shirt and the side of her breast was visible almost to her nipple which was evident against the sweaty material. Turning up her beer, he could see the tone of her muscularity. Hard, heavy work does that to people.
Catching his eye when she put her beer down, she raised an eyebrow, “What?” She asked, “Is there something on me?”
He had noticed that when she turned up her beer, her nipple had popped out and was still exposed. I quickly looked away when she looked down to notice what I had seen. Hooking her shirt with her thumb, she covered her breast and apologized, “Oops. That’s the last thing a guy wants to see from an old bitty like me. Sorry.”
“You aren’t an old bitty,” I said, laughing, “Gravity has been kind to you.”
“I’m certainly not a college girl,” she laughed, “That was many moons ago.”
“I mean, you got some miles on you,” I said, “But you ain’t no old bitty. That’s all I’m saying.”
“With miles come dents and dings, but the girls still hang in there,” she laughed, hefting her right tit with her hand and then letting it drop against her chest.”
Like I already said, I wasn’t one for shyness, so I said, “Don’t worry, the girls are hanging in there very nicely.”
“You little pervert,” she laughed.
“Hey, you’re the one flashing me and playing with them over there.”
“Playing with them? Fuck you, you little little dick.”
“Whatever, Granny,” we laughed, “But this dick ain’t little.”
“Yeah, stud,” she smirked, pulling into the driveway of her shop, “That’s what they all say.”
I unbuckled the seatbelt and volunteered to unload the equipment and trash. She told me it could wait, “It’s been a long day. I need another beer and a shower.”
Tossing me a cold one over the truck bed, she told me I could go home if I wanted. I caught the beer, and swallowed half the bottle, “What, don’t have room in that shower for me?”
“I knew it,” she laughed, “One look at my tit and you done fell in love.”
“I’ve been looking at your tits since you hired me, Granny,” I told her, “Watching you play with them just turned me on.”
“You pervert,” she laughed, “You probably been jacking off in the bathroom instead of doing your work. I was wondering what took you so long in there.”
“You’ve just been wondering how big this dick is,” I said, both of us laughing.
Finishing my beer, I walked around the truck and took another, handing her another at the same time. We teased and joked, softly insulting one another for half an hour and two more beers. After finishing hers, Annie looked at me and asked, “We getting that shower or what?”
Choking on my last swallow, I spat my beer in the air and with a cough, said, “You serious?”
“I mean, if you don’t want to,” she said, turning to walk to the shop door, “But I’m getting a shower.”
What would his buddies say? He decided that he didn’t give a fuck. He wasn’t about to pass this up. Yeah, she was old enough to be his grandmother, but she was sexy, at least to him. She was tough and muscular but for all that, she, for damn sure, was a woman. He followed her, just making it to the door before it slammed shut.
The shop was dark and smelled of coal and smoke. The tools hung like ghostly bones from the hooks and racks. Several steps ahead of me, she turned the lights on in the bathroom. My dick was already hard when I walked in to see her turning the water on. Annie turned to see me standing there and asked, “You like it hot or cold?”
My eyes narrowed, confused by her question. The beer buzz had me at a disadvantage. She looked at me with a smirk, “The water. Hot or cold?”
“Hot, like you,” I answered, shaking the clumsiness from my head.
She grunted a laugh, turning to adjust the heat, “Hot it is then.”
My eyes were on her, just wondering what was about to happen. My cock, so hard, pressed against my shorts in an obscene bulge when she turned back to me. Our hands and arms were covered in black coal soot and sweat. Her face, blackened from the dirty work mirrored mine. Something about this nearly sixty-year-old woman just said sexy to me.
I was surprised when she pushed me against the block wall of the room, shoving her tongue into my mouth and sucking mine into hers. I felt the palm of her strong hand on my cock, squeezing through my jeans. Her breasts pressed against my chest. I wanted to know how they felt and tasted. My hands found her firm ass cheeks, squeezing them through the grimy jean shorts she wore.
I was surprised at the supple firmness underneath those dirty jeans. Pushing my hand further down, her legs parted and I pushed my knee against her crotch, pressing her sex. She ground her body against my knee and our kiss grew more passionate. I felt her fingers working on the front of my cargo shorts, trying to free my impatient member. The brass button gave her a little trouble so she just popped it off my shorts with a firm pull then she pushed my zipper down. My shorts fell to my ankles, giving my cock slight relief.
“You’re hard,” she said, her tongue still wrestling mine, her hand squeezing my shaft through my boxers.
I figured turnabout was fair play so, I took the collar of her old threadbare teeshirt in both hands, tearing it open like Hulk Hogan. Her breasts pressed heavily against my teeshirt which I quickly pulled over my head. Another kiss then she pushed me away, her naked breasts beautifully displayed as she unbuttoned her shorts, letting them fall loosely to the floor. Naked before my hungry eyes, she wore no panties.
I pushed my boxers down and kicked them to the side. Her body, though aged, was amazing. Her breasts hung heavily, a rose tattoo on the upper part of the left. I noticed the scars of burns and cuts from many years of hard work. She wore them like badges of her life’s story. I was sure that each of them held a memory for her.
“Disappointed?” She asked.
My eyes lingered on the thin landing strip of hair between her legs. The muscular tone of her limbs was accentuated by a washboard six-pack on her abdomen. I shook my head, “No ma’am,” I stuttered, “You’re beautiful.”
Annie smiled, taking the bandanna from her hair and shaking it loose, letting it fall. Again, I was hypnotized. I knew she had thick hair but I didn’t know how long it was. The black waves hung past her hips, one wide streak of grey ran like a lightening bolt down from her right temple, covering her shoulders in a dense mane of curls. My cock was begging to get into this rugged beauty.
Steam boiled from the cinderblock shower as the water hissed from the shower head. She turned and stepped in, looking over her shoulder with a, ‘Come here,’ stare. I followed without hesitation. The water was hot and felt good on my tired muscles. Annie tossed me a bottle of shampoo and then stepped under the stream, letting the water soak her long black tresses.
“Wash my hair,” she said, “I’ll do yours when you’re done.”
She turned her back to me, putting her hands on the wall, and with one more look at her aged but taught body, amazed by her firm, tight ass, I stepped closer. Turning the bottle up with a squeeze, I purposely let my raging dick press the crack of her ass. She responded by arching her back with a wiggle of her hips. I lathered her hair, my hips pressed against her firm cheeks and my cock between her thighs. The suds ran black with soot from her hair and down her strong legs, swirling into the floor drain. I nearly lost my load when she dropped one of her hands from the wall and rubbed the bottom of my hard cock, pressing my shaft against her pussy. My fingers played in her thick soapy hair and my hips rocked back and forth forcing my throbbing cock between her hand and pussy. The only thing keeping me from hosing her with cum was the fact that I was concentrating on her hair. It was so thick and curly. The black suds running down were slowly changing color to white. The coal dust and soot were finally washed away. I could only imagine what she would look like had she been dressed for a date, her hair fixed up.
After rinsing the shampoo from her hair, which was no small chore, I took a bar of soap from the stainless steel nook in the wall and lathered it on a scrubber. Now I would explore every inch of her body. Her back to me, I started at her neck and shoulders, so strong and thick from heavy work and lifting decades of iron and tools.
A crossed cutlass tattoo on the left shoulder and a dagger, thrust through the head of a rattlesnake that coiled around the handle and blade adorned the right. Scars from so many burns dotted her body. Her sides tapered down to a narrow waist that again gave accent to slightly wider hips. Another tattoo just above the crack of her amazing ass. This one, the Tasmanian Devil, gave me a naughty smile.
I traced the length of a scar on the outside of her right thigh. This one had to carry a story. At least a foot long, it was by far the most severe injury on her body. Looking up, I saw her smiling down at me over her shoulder, “Mountain climbing accident,” she explained, “It’s a long story.”
“One day you’ll have to tell me,” I whispered, continuing my journey all the way to her feet then turned her around. A heart tattoo just to the left of her pubic mound offset the landing strip just above her sex. More scars, more beauty. I soaped my way up past her pussy and tits, kissing her again. Her fingers wrapped around my shaft, squeezing and stroking slowly.
I started to kiss her neck and shoulders, working my way to her breasts. Her nipples, though aged, were erect and firm. One at a time I kissed them, sucking and gently nibbling them as her hand pressed my head tightly to her chest. She moaned her approval, the hot water running from her shoulders and chest down her washboard abs. I paused at her little belly button, pressing my tongue to it. With a shudder, she pushed my head away with a giggle, “That tickles.”
I pressed it again, wiggling my tongue and pulling myself firmly to her with both hands on her hips. Squirming, she started pushing my head downward with both hands. I was given pause when I saw her clit. As big as her thumb, it stood erect, at least an inch and a half long. At first, I backed away, thinking the rumors might be true. Grade school friends said repeatedly that she was a man dressed as a woman, or that she had both man parts and lady parts.
She saw my confusion and asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I replied, looking up at her, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“It’s just my clitoris,” she said, “Don’t be afraid of it. It’s not going to bite.”
“It’s amazing,” I said, not taking my eyes off it, “Is it more sensitive than a normal one?”
“I don’t know,” Annie replied, laughing, “It’s the only one I’ve ever had.”
Taking it between my thumb and forefinger, I pulled the hood back, exposing the treasure beneath. It resembled the head of a tiny dick, twitching with every touch of my finger. I just had to suck it. Looking up one more time, I smiled and put her left knee over my shoulder, giving myself better access. Summoning my nerve, I took it between my lips, sucking it like a tiny cock, bobbing my head.
Call me a fan, but I was getting into it like a porn star. The more I sucked it, it seemed the longer it grew. I let it fall free and licked it with the tip of my tongue. Her body trembled with each flick. My dick was so hard that a cat couldn’t scratch it. I needed release.
Annie pushed my head back and said, “My turn,” taking the scrubber from my hand. She started at my feet, scouring my body. My farmer’s tan was dark from my feet to my knees and from my neck up. My arms were also darkly tanned but my nakedness was white. The soapy bubbles ran down with the hot water, cleansing the coal and sweat from my person.
Throughout the whole process of washing my body, she made sure to never touch my erection. My thick shaft jutted obscenely from my body like a six-inch piece of forged steel. Face to face, she smiled, finishing her task of scrubbing my body clean, we kissed again. She pressed me against the block wall under the stream of steamy water finally taking my cock in her hand.
Her grip was strong and tight but gentle all the same. Sliding her hand up and down my shaft, she was in control of the moment. Her calloused hand, strong and gentle, stroked me slowly as we kissed under the hot stream. She slid her hand under my scrotum, taking my balls in her hand, gently tugging at the loose skin. I let her have her way.
Annie dropped to her knees, quickly taking my entire cock into her mouth, sucking it like she was starved. Her tongue rolled over my cock head and shaft, letting me know that this was a passion that was not first practiced on me. I could tell she loved to suck cock. That passion brought me to a climax very quickly.
I had no time to warn her but it didn’t seem to matter. She took every drop of my cum in her mouth, bobbing her head slowly. My knees buckled and my heart pounded as I cursed through the powerful orgasm. Even after my cock stopped spurting and my body regained composure, she continued to suck me. I remained hard.
Finally, she pulled my rigid cock from her sweet mouth and stood face to face with me. Her body pressed mine to the cold wall of the shower and we kissed, her mouth still full of my expulsion. It was not the first taste I’ve had of my cum, but certainly the first time it had been put in my mouth on someone else’s terms. Her tongue pushed into my mouth, swirling around mine, sharing my cum with me.
I wasn’t grossed out. No, in the moment, I took what she offered and I enjoyed the kiss.
My cock showed no sign of exhaustion. Hard and ready for more, I took control, turning her around and pressing her to the wall. I forced one hand between her strong thighs, pushing two fingers into her soaking cunt. A moan from her throat let me know that she wanted more. Another finger inside, I pumped them all the way to the knuckle.
“That’s it,” she hissed, “Don’t hold back. Fuck me like you mean it.”
I remember Sharon Stone in that movie, “Basic Instinct,” how she liked it so rough. Having wanted to do it for years, I turned her around and pushed her against the wall, wrapping her hair around my hand and pulling it. My cock was rock hard when I thrust it deep into her wet pussy. I watched her ass ripple like jello when I thrust. She was so fucking wet.
“Yes,” she hissed, “Fuck me. Fuck me harder.”
I gave her what she wanted, slamming my cock into her sex, hard and fast. The obscene slapping sounds of fucking mixed with the splash of the hot shower, echoed on the block walls of the room. She cursed and called my name over and over. I grit my teeth, thinking I was a porn star, fucking her like a sewing machine.
“Oh,” she moaned, her orgasm jolting through her body, “I’m coming.”
That was all I could take. Her pussy, aged though it was, clamped down tightly on my swollen shaft, milking my balls. My cum gushed into her, flooding her womb with my seed. My thrusts became short and jerky. Cum spilled from her spasming pussy onto the shower floor, swirling in the hot water.
Finally coming down from the buzzing climax of orgasm, I stumbled back, my cock falling from her pussy, a strand of cum connecting our bodies until it was washed away by the shower. We leaned against the white painted blocks of the wall, panting, trying to catch our breath.
“Damn, boy,” she laughed, “I think you just got a raise.”
“Hell, Annie,” I chuckled, “I’ll work for free if I can do this every payday.”
